2 comments/ 11199 views/ 2 favorites The Games We Play Ch. 01 By: TheMedi8or Katie appeared at his office door as she always did, out of the blue and without warning. It happened about every six months or so, he would simply turn around and she would be there. Seeing her, as always, brought a surge of happiness through him that very little else could give him these days. He knew his face lit up like an idiot at the sight of her, but he couldn't help it, he was just so damned glad to see her. He always swore he wouldn't react this way. That he would be professional and polite, but distant, as the situation warranted. After all, he had been her teacher, her mentor, not her lover. They had never been that to each other, despite the fact that they both knew how the other felt. Katie never even tried to hide it, every glance she gave him though her long black lashes was filled with unspoken desire. As always, despite his intentions he opened his arms to her for a hug. And as always, there was a lingering in her embrace to see if, this time, he would take it further. She never pushed him, never said anything or made any demands, she simply waited. Despite the fact that she had been waiting for ten years now, she always left him with a slight, knowing smile, as if it were a foregone conclusion in the end. He tried to treat her as nothing more than another past student who dropped in from time to time. He tried to remember he was a married man. He tried not to think abut the fact that his mentor role to her had been fulfilled for ten years now, and that any professional obligation was long over. But there was always that look. He let his eyes wander over her, drinking in the sight of her. She was dressed as she always was; black dress slacks that he knew would cling to her just right when she turned around. Her button down, professional blouse was unbuttoned just far enough for him to see the curve at the tops of her breasts. He suspected that when she was working that those buttons went all the way up, and that it was only for him that this little peek was allowed. He didn't understand his own attraction to her. She was not the most attractive woman he had ever known. His wife, when he had met her, had been a much more beautiful woman, and still was in many ways. Her dress was not alluring in any blatant way, yet even when half his students were walking around three-quarters naked, there was something about the little glimpses that this woman gave him that sent his blood racing. Despite her demure clothing, there was a raw sexuality about her that seemed to come from her very pores. For that matter, he didn't really understand Katie's attraction to him either. He was easily old enough to be her father and ever since he quit smoking his figure wasn't quite the same as it had been. Yet, she was obviously drawn to him as inexplicably as he was to her. "Let me get you a chair." He had finally found his voice, and her smile let him know that she had been watching his inspection. He hurried into the hall, in part looking for a seat for her and in part wanting to regain control over his own emotions. He knew she would wait by his door. They went through this game very time she showed up. Sometimes he wished she would push him. If she weren't so damned patient, if she tried to force him into a decision, maybe it would make it easier to resist her. Maybe it would be easier not to let the next hug linger a little longer, or the kiss on the cheek wander a little closer to her mouth. On the other hand, maybe he was fooling himself. Maybe if she pushed it would simply be easier to give in to temptation and then not have to blame himself in the morning. He suspected that the second reason was why she never did push. If it happened, she wanted him to have no regrets later. He returned with the chair and set it down in the spot that had become, over the years, her spot. Even when the months ticked by without her arrival, he would still think of her every so often, and it was always there that he pictured her. Well, except when he pictured her on his desk and naked of course, but he tried very hard to repress those visions. He returned to his desk chair, and she sat primly in the hard, yellow, student chair he had retrieved for her. "How is Chicago?" She had moved south just after the last time he had seen her and the few emails he had gotten since had implied that she wasn't very happy there. Then the e-mails had stopped coming, they were as erratic as her visits, and he wondered if she had changed her mind and come to appreciate city living. Her shrug indicated otherwise. "I'm adjusting, but I still hate it. I miss being up here with all my friends." The look she shot him under her lashes suggested that she missed him as well, which was foolish because she had never come to visit often anyways. He wondered if there was a certain amount of reproach there are well, he had often promised he would visit her, but he never did. He had meant to, really, but he kept putting it off. The idea of seeing her alone, outside the office was simply too tempting. The moment of silence lingered, there was always a strained moment between then when she first arrived as they both re-tested the boundaries of the sexual tension in the air. He broke it, as he always did. "So can I buy you a coffee?" He was already standing, anticipating her response. This was how it always played out, and they both knew their roles well. So when she remained seated looking at him calmly, he was taken off guard. "No thank you, but if you need a cup...I can wait or leave, as you like." He sat back down. Something was up. It had never been about the coffee, they both knew that. It was about getting her somewhere even more public than his office and giving them both something to hang on to and get them through the awkward moments. Something was up. Something had changed and suddenly he felt a sickness in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly suspected the games were over. "I'm fine. Everything okay?" "I met someone in Chicago." The sick feeling was definitely rising now. For ten years she had waited for him and he had stalled, and now he had lost his chance. She had met someone. He felt his mind back-pedaling like mad. Resist her? He didn't want to resist her. What had been thinking? He tried to force a smile. "That's great. What's he like?" He had told her once, in a moment of weakness, that when she met someone he would be jealous, but that he would be happy for her. Hell, he had been encouraging her to meet someone for years, and she had always laughed and waved a hand as if the suggestion were the most foolish thing she had ever heard. She had never said that she was waiting for him, or that she would continue to wait, but part of him had always assumed she would. Apparently she was done waiting. Jealous but happy for her? What a joke. All he felt was jealousy. She shrugged again. "Kind, funny, sweet. He's amazing." "How long have you been together?" He was trying to make his questions sound natural, tried to keep the sickness he was feeling from being obvious, but he wasn't sure he was succeeding. Her expression gave him no clues. "Actually, we aren't really. We've eaten out a few times, but I've put off dating him so far." She had put him off? This "perfect" man? He felt a surge of hope and immediately felt guilty. "How come?" He knew he was being to abrupt, bordering on rude, but he couldn't stop the question. He wanted the answer, but dreaded it. "Because I cannot get you out of my head." Her look was direct now, and the games were definitely over between them. "I need you gone." He was confused, hurt, angry....hungry. The emotions whirled through him and left only that sickness inside him again. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. This wasn't the tidy script they had, and it certainly wasn't how his fantasies had played out. Dreams of her finally stammering her way through how she felt. Him holding her, accidental touches becoming light stroking, the look of desire appearing in her eyes... The harsh reality continued in her direct gaze and her words. "I'm not coming back after today, no matter what. I need some sort of closure in this...whatever it is between us. I have tried not to come back before, and I always give in eventually and come back here. I have never expected anything from you and never asked for more than you were willing to give. But I have also allowed myself to hope for too long. Hoped that something might change someday and you would come to feel about me the way I feel about you. Or at least there would be a sign that you would feel something for me." "I have hurt men who might have loved me because I couldn't love them. I was too busy loving you, even knowing you aren't mine to love. This man, this one I could love, even despite you. I don't want you between us though, and so I need you gone." "I don't understand." He knew he looked stricken, he had never thought about what she might be feeling. She had tried not to come back? That explained the erratic timing to her visits, why she would stay gone for so long between times. He had never realized that she was hurting herself, that he was hurting her as much as the temptation was killing him. "I want you fuck me." Her whisper cut across the room as if she had shouted it. He got up hurriedly and crossed to shut the door in case some student should choose that moment to need help with an assignment. "What?" It was a terrible response, but the only one he could manage. He was stunned, but he couldn't deny the excitement that swept through him at the thought. Unbidden thoughts of the fantasies he had kept secret over the year swept through him. Visions of her naked, seated on his desk as he plunged in to her, hand on her breasts. Visions of her underneath him in bed, moving with him. Vision of her on top of him, riding him with her head thrown back and her eyes closed in ecstasy. He had to close his eyes against her in order to bring himself under control. Even the imagination was arousing him to the point where he knew it would be visible if he turned around. "I'm married." It was a pitiful excuse, or at least sounded pitiful at the moment. It sounded like a man trying desperately to stave off the inevitable. "I know. And I will never come back, so you never have to tell her. I never intended to steal you from your wife. Even if you had wanted me, I never would have asked that. I would have been content to be your mistress whenever and wherever you needed me." He gaped in shock. Where was the strong, proud liberal woman he had known all these years? Turning to look at her, he realized she was still there. She had simply made a decision for herself about what she wanted and what she was willing to do to get it. He had lost an even greater chance than he had ever comprehended until now. He sat back down in his desk chair and looked at her, at a loss for what to say. He had no idea how to make this better, how to not hurt her. He didn't know how to make her stay. She stood up, standing over him for the first and last time in their relationship. She reached over him and set something on his desk and his eyes were once again treated to that tiny glimpse of her breasts. "If you decide not to, please make sure to return this to me anyways. Otherwise, I'll be waiting." With that, she turned and she left him. He realized too late that he should have asked her where. He should have tried to explain. He should have firmly told her no and wished her luck in her new relationship. Whatever it was she had left behind, he would mail it to her, and that would be that. The last tie would be severed and they would both be free. He tried not to notice the sick feeling was stronger than ever or that the thought of being free of her left him close to tears. He also tried not to notice the raging erection leftover from the visions of being with her. Instead, he sighed and turned to his desk to see what she had left. When his eye fell on it, he groaned and sank in to his chair, realizing the games were not over after all. It was a hotel key.