2 comments/ 14128 views/ 1 favorites Seasons of the Heart: Fall Ch. 01 By: yourlittledominatrix It was a brisk fall day, the air slightly chilly as it swept through the trees sending bright leaves cascading to the ground. The afternoon sky was clear and bright, the sun shining down on the bustling college campus. It was the first day back from summer break and everyone was getting back into the swing of the educational system. Claire O'Malley was brimming with excitement, and her creamy, freckled skin was glowing with it and her sharp green eyes were alighted with passion. She loved these moments, when the year was new and promise awaited each student with hope. She new eventually the novelty would wear off and it would become the daily grind, like it had every year since grade school. As she glanced at her class list she saw a new name in the professor column next to her favorite class, Art History. Then she remembered why. At the end of last semester her professor had announced he was retiring. Her professor had been a sweet, white haired old man, who had a fondness for Irish whiskey and fine Cuban cigars. She was sad to remember him gone and was anxious to meet the new professor. As she took her seat in the lecture hall she, and the other students present, wondered at the delay in the appearance of their mysterious professor. She heard a couple of freshmen in the seats behind her whispering. "I hear he's really gorgeous, but I'll believe that when I see it." And with that the door swung open and a man strode purposefully into the classroom. Every eye in the hall took him in. Claire decided that whoever had said he was gorgeous was making a gross understatement. He was wickedly handsome. He was tall and lean, his broad chest and shoulders evoking visions of girlish fingertips trailing over that masculine surface. His hair was black as midnight, thick and curly, the ends brushing his ears and trailing down the nape of his neck. His eyes were like crystalline waters, the kind found deep in the ocean, the bluest of blue. She traced her eyes down his face to his full, sensual mouth, which might have appeared feminine had it not been graced with the strong wideness of the lips, stretching delightfully into a grin that played in his eyes. Michael Daughton introduced himself and handed out the class syllabus, Claire found it almost difficult to concentrate on much more than the man standing in front of the class. But as he began the lecture she forgot about his amazing face and body and was swept up in the swirl of the new school year. She would not forget for long. That Friday, Claire found herself at her usual place, the small on-campus café, snuggled into a corner booth with a thick novel and a steamy, pungent mug of tea. She was engrossed with the plot, and barely noticed the shadow that spilled over the pages. She slowly glanced up, and as her eyes left the page they came in contact with a long, lean figure. She raised her face up to his, her emerald eyes meeting his deep sapphire ones. She cocked her head to the side, intrigued by the appearance of her teacher in the café. Before she could speak, he grinned and spoke first. "I just stopped in to get a cup and I saw you sitting there, curled up with that book and I decided to say hello." She smiled back at him, turned down a corner of the page she had been reading and put down her book. "Well, Mr. Daughton, its great to see you here. Most of the staff doesn't normally bother with the student haunts. Usually the only people you see in here are caffeine junkies and wannabe beatniks pretending to write good poetry." Daughton threw back his head and laughed heartily, the sound thrilling over her ears. "Well, you don't seem to be either of those, so you must be the exception." She smiled at him and gave a coy shrug. "And I like to check out the 'student haunts' because I really believe that staff-student interaction out of the classroom is really important. I find that if a student can be comfortable enough with a teacher to chill with him or her on a Friday night, then the relationship in the classroom can be a lot more understanding and a student won't be so timid to ask questions or voice an opinion." He was really something, she thought. Without thinking she shrugged and smiled and said, "Well Mr. Daughton, if you're not too busy, maybe you'd want to stay and have a chat?" He grinned as he slid into the booth, keeping a respectful distance, but still close enough to make her heart flutter at the idea of having him so close. He reached out and gently picked up the book she had been reading and glanced at the cover. "You know, its so refreshing to see young people reading. It seems to have gone out of style with the birth of Mtv." She looked into his eyes and laughed. "Reading fuels the imagination and keeps you sharp. And oh, come on Mr. Daughton,'young people'? You you're no senior citizen." He grinned at her and produced on of those fantastic, full-bodied laughs of his. "I am 30 years old...don't you think that's terribly old young lady?" he asked her, his eyes holding the grin. Suddenly all Claire could think about was that he was only nine years her senior. "That's not hardly old at all...now, old Professor Jenkins was old. He had one foot in the grave, God bless him. You look like you've got plenty of vitality left in that bo...er...left in you Mr. D." She caught herself in time and was able to redirect the comment Suddenly she was aware of his gaze traveling over her body. His eyes rose from her slender hips to her large b-cup breasts. She felt her nipples stiffen as his eyes roamed over her. Finally they made their way up to her face and he grinned slightly, probably a little embarrassed at being caught staring. She was used to horny college boys scour her body with their stares as they made their thoughts obvious. But this, this was completely different. Before his eyes had alighted with a smile, his look had been that of a grown man thoroughly appreciating what he saw. She bit her bottom lip and gave him a small smile, trying desperately to douse the flames that had begun to travel her body. She cleared her throat and spoke. "Well Mr. D, it's been fun, but I gotta go hit the books. First week back and we already have to start digging in.," she offered the excuse pathetically, searching for a reason to leave. "Alright Claire, see you in class on Monday?" She was almost out the door as she called to him over her shoulder, "Sure thing Mr. D." Seasons of the Heart: Fall Ch. 02 That weekend it was near impossible for Claire to concentrate on anything else besides the encounter in the café. She hadn't thought anyone had seen, but just to be careful she didn't talk about it. But every night as she lay between her crisp, cool sheets, her body burned, remembering the paths his eyes had traveled over her. She wasn't sure if he was attracted to her or just appreciating a fine body. Either way, remembering the look he gave her made her shiver deep down in her core, a slow burn starting in her belly and radiating out to her fingers and toes. As she lay down for the night on Sunday, Claire could feel a giddy anticipation for the coming day. She was almost to class when she thought suddenly, "I should go home, I should just skip class for today... it will be so awkward to see him after that...and then...I can't miss class and I definitely want to see that gorgeous body of his...awkwardness will just have to do." With a new confidence in the day she strode the rest of the distance to the lecture hall and took her seat, in waiting for him to join the class. As usual, he came into the classroom a few minutes late and, with a friendly grin, swept the hall with his eyes. His eyes met with Claire's, but she quickly turned away from it. She thought she heard a low chuckle as he turned for the podium. "He's laughing at me," she thought. "He's laughing cause he thinks I'm embarrassed...well, I'll show him." She turned her head to the front and casually looked at nothing while listening, avoiding his glance for now. She thought she'd give him a tiny, little show to tease him, and to make him think twice about laughing at her expense. Without catching his or anyone's attention she slowly pulled the zipper down farther on her sweater, exposing the low, lacy black bra that she had on underneath. The lingerie gave her breasts a sexy, full look, with plenty of cleavage. She ran her fingertips over her collarbone to attract his attention. She brought her gaze back around to lock squarely with his intense blue eyes. There it was again, that look. She shivered once, bit her bottom lip and fixed him with a sultry stare. Watching the changes in his eyes as he stared at her, trying to concentrate on the lecture he was giving, was fascinating. The look reflected in his eyes was an intense, passionate one, and watching him watching her was beginning to take its effect on her. Claire could feel her skin heat, as she felt herself getting more and more wet as each scorching second ticked by. He cleared his throat and dismissed the class for the day. Claire hastily zipped up her sweater and made her way down the aisle toward the door. Just as her luck should put her, she was last in the line of students to exit. As she passed by Mr. Daughton, he stepped forward and his side brushed against hers. She felt the electric shock of heat move through her as she realized that it had been no accident on his part. He no longer simply appreciated what he saw, as she had thought. He wanted it, and apparently very badly. She glanced up and saw the confirmation in his eyes as she clumsily say goodbye and hurried out of the classroom. "Oh god, oh god, oh my god..." was the constant litany in Claire's brain as she somnambulated back to her apartment. Something very serious was happening here, and she knew it wasn't going to end up to be one of those things you can just brush off and let fizzle. He was...Christ, he was fucking hot, he made her body burn and ache for things she needed and missed so badly. As she unlocked her apartment and stepped inside, she began thinking about the last time she had ever been so incredibly burning hot. It had been 18 years before Claire lost her virginity. She was fine with that; she was fine with waiting until the "one" came along. But she soon realized that from the first exquisite taste of the sexual, she had to have more, and often. He first affair had been with an older boyfriend, who was, inevitably more experienced. But he had been respectful and never judgmental about her decision to wait. He had also successfully aroused her so incredibly badly that in a second she would have given her body to him. One cool, summer night, he took her out for a picnic at a secluded park in the next town over. He unpacked the soft, cashmere blanket and spread it out on the ground along with the basket of food. Out of the basket he took a bottle of sparkling wine and a bowl of bright, juicy cherries. As sat down and poured the wine he urged her to sit on the blanket with him. She sat and stretched out her legs, leaning back on her elbows and looking at the sky. She felt his eyes on her and she turned her face slowly to his and saw that he was staring at her body, her face, his breathing heavy. She giggled nervously and snatched up her glass, sipping quickly. As she fidgeted, he seemed to calm a bit and she relaxed, though the way he had looked so hungry for her had made the fire creep up from her toes, until her cheeks were a dusky pink. Leaning still on one arm she reached over to the bowl of cherries. God, but they looked delicious, as if he had chosen each and every one, assuring its perfection. She ran the tip of her tongue around the outside of the cherry, moaning in delight from the sweet and slightly bitter taste. Suddenly she felt it again, his eyes. She turned and looked, but as she saw his eyes, she wasn't nervous, she wasn't embarrassed. She was ready. But she wanted to tease him, make the hunger in his eyes deepen; make him want her like a starving man wants a turkey dinner. With her eyes alight with emerald flames, she kept her gaze on his face as she slowly parted her luscious pink lips and sucked the fruit gently into her hot, moist mouth. She heard him take a deep breath, his jaw setting as he watched her. She drew the cherry out of her mouth and dragged it from her full bottom lip down her chin and over her collarbone. Licking her lips she took the fruit once more into her mouth and bit down, the succulent juices washing her lips with dark red color. Dropping the stem and daintily spitting out the pit, she rose to her knees in front of him. His eyes roamed up and down her delicious curves and over her creamy white skin. Slowly she began to pull the straps of her top down her shoulders, holding the material over her breasts. She lifted the top over her head and knelt in front of him in her pink lace bra and jeans. He rose to his knees as well and reached for her, his arms surrounding her, bringing her close to his body. She could feel him, hard against her as she fumbled to slip the black t-shirt over his head. His hands wandered everywhere, each brush of the fingertips sending powerful sensations all over her body. She managed to loosen the button on his jeans and slipped the zipper down as her hand slid inside his jeans and boxers, her fingers lightly brushing over him. He gasped and lurched for her, his hot mouth finding hers, the flavor of the cherry dominant in their mouths. She squeezed him once more and then he began to push her backward until her back was against the blanket. He was kneeling over her, to the side with his hands planted on either side of her body. Slowly he lifted his hand and began to run it down her side, making her shudder with pleasure as he looked into her eyes. His hands slid under the waistband of her jeans, his thick fingers nimbly releasing the button from its hole. Sliding the zipper down softly he slid his hand into her jeans. She moaned suddenly as his rough fingers made contact with her fevered, wet skin. He groaned as he realized she wore nothing underneath the jeans and kissed her once more. She sighed deeply and moved herself against his fingers and their tongues worked feverishly in each other's mouths. He slowly began to move his fingers back and forth, working into her wet skin. As his fingertip brushed against her hard, sensitive clit she cried out softly, her lip finding its way between her teeth. Shifting his position he moved between her thighs and ran his hands over her lush thighs. Wanting to touch her skin he urged her jeans down her legs and tossed them on the far edge of the blanket. She gasped as the coolness of the air came in contact with her wetness. He slid his hands up over her sides and smoothed over her stomach, marveling at the intermittent freckles all over her creamy white skin. Fingers reaching upwards, they wandered upwards and closed around her pink nipples. Squeezing gently, she moaned deeply. She was so ready she just couldn't stand the teasing another second more. She closed her eyes as yet another wave of heat washed over her as he slipped each nipple into his hot, hungry mouth. She cried out suddenly. "Oh God...please! Please make love to me!" His eyes met hers as he lifted his head from her breasts. The look on his face was one of pure lust, shining through the eager grin on his lips. He sat up and worked his jeans and boxers down his long legs before slipping up in between her thighs once more. As he moved she took sight of his magnificent cock, standing rigid and urgent between his hips. He grinned and nestled closer to her, his cock sliding between her soft, soaked lips. He move the head of his cock against her, rubbing all along her moist slit, brushing over her clit and making her breath quicken and gorgeous whimpers rise from her lips. He paused with the head of his cock poised to enter her. He looked up seriously into her face and asked her if she was ready, if she really wanted it. She quickly and fervently nodded an affirmative and she groaned long and loud as he slowly pushed himself inside her tight pussy. She was writhing beneath him as he came to her hymen. He paused once more, looked up at her, and with her quick nod slid back and thrust fast and hard inside of her, pushing past her hot, tight pussy walls and breaking through to the even tighter area beyond. Her nails dug deep into his back as she arched her back and released a huge, ragged moan. She began to move her hips against him franticly, needing to feel him move within her. She felt so tight, so incredibly tight wrapped around his long, hard cock. He dipped his head and their lips met in a soft kiss. The kiss quickly grew in intensity as their bodies moved with one another and he began rocking his hips, sliding his cock slowly out, and slowly, but firmly thrust deep inside. He kept the slow, sensual pace for a while until they both began to sense the other wanted more. She kissed his neck, licking and nipping her way up to his ear where she bit down softly on his earlobe. "Oh God baby..." she moaned. "Please...I need to feel you harder, faster, my body is on fire..." And indeed she was, as his hands slid down to her hips he could feel her skin smoldering beneath his fingertips, driving him insane with her heat. With his hands planted firmly against her hips he began to thrust in harder and deeper than before, making her head fly back and her spin bend with pleasure. Her legs lifted and slid around his body, holding him tight against her as he pounded his rigid cock faster within her tight, wet sheath. She began to mumble and moan, making no sense, but just the sound of her voice, fraught with desire and need drove him further on until he was slamming his lean body into her soft one, surely bruising her tender flesh in their lust. Quite suddenly, she gripped him hard, her pussy clenching hard against his driving cock. She screamed out, her voice high pitched and full of need. "Oh lord fuck! Oh baby I'm gonna come, oh pleassssse please please baby. Fuck me please, I'm soooo close." It was as if those words had scorched his very flesh and he groaned hard and thrust harder inside her, his fingers slipping down to her wet pussy and into her slick folds. His fingers found her hard little clit and rubbed it furiously. Feeling her pussy squeeze and spasm around him brought him to the edge and he thrust into her, the need for release so intense. He moaned out for her to cum, his voice raspy with desire. The combination of his fingers, his driving cock and his plea for release drove her to the most exquisite orgasm. She cried out loudly and spasmed around his cock and moaned as she felt his thrusting cock explode within her. They cried out as one and shuddered against each other's fevered skin, his softening cock still moving within her. After a minute or so he sighed deeply and collapsed against her side, drawing her closely and wrapping his arms around her. They looked into each other's satisfied eyes and exchanged loving words, his hand brushing against her face in a tender gesture. As they sighed and moaned against each other, they brought the blanket up around them together. With one final soft kiss they slipped into satisfied post-coital dreams. The memory of that event had left Claire hot and dripping with sweat. Her legs were shaky as she moved slowly to the bathroom. Turning on the shower to hot, she slipped out of her clothes and shuddered as the images of it flitted over her memory once more. Claire slid her body into the steamy shower stall and sighed, her fingers roaming over her skin, over her breasts, her nipples hardening instantly. She moved her hand farther downward, biting her lip and moaning softly, her fingers finding her heat as the water rhythmically pounded her body into relaxation. Seasons of the Heart: Fall Ch. 03 As Claire stepped from the shower much later, she realized how badly she wanted something to happen between Mr. Daughton and herself. Having it put to thought startled her, she had never, ever, imagined doing anything with a teacher. Quickly she understood what her feelings could make her do, and she made the decision to take the tact of propriety and maintain a safe, professional distance from Mr. Daughton, and not allow herself to encourage him any further than she already had. Though, God knew she wanted to. Good lord, but did that girl get him going, Michael Daughton thought to himself. What exactly was it about her that had attracted him so? Surely, he thought, it had to be something physical, right? He hardly knew her enough to go any deeper than that. But deep inside, he knew there was something more behind his attraction. Her little show the other day in his classroom had been like a shock to his system and he was still reeling. Half the time she acted like a shy little loner, when the other half she set him on fire with her seemingly unconscious vixen ways. The seductive air she had had around her when she stared into him had slipped away so suddenly, he almost believed he had imagined it. Well, he certainly wasn't about to let her get away with half seducing him in public. He'd have her alright, but it would be on his terms and he would make damn sure she would suffer as he had through the torturous seduction. She would have to talk to him, she thought as she walked thorough campus the next day. Though the brisk fall air and swirling leaves did nothing to cool her heated body, it did help her find a bit of calm and resolve as to her latest task at hand. As she took her seat in the lecture hall, she felt slightly nervous but quickly steeled her mind from such feelings as she straightened her back and waited for him to begin class. She turned her head when she heard him walk through his office door and into the classroom. She blushed slightly when his warm smile fused into something different altogether as he turned it in her direction. The first thought that came to her was hungry, he looked damn hungry as his gaze raked over her face, down to her breasts and back up to her eyes before turning away. She shuddered in desire, but quickly remembered her decision to stop this back and forth flirtation. The cool smile he received from her puzzled him. Wasn't she the one practically stripping in front of him yesterday? He thought as he turned back to the rest of the class. He would have to come up with some good reasons to get close to her, he thought, to be next to her soft, warm, lithe...Christ...he needed to get a handle on himself before he lost it and took her right there against his desk. Looking up from a stack of papers in his hand he addressed the class. "Alright guys, here's what's going to be happening in the next few days. I've taken the liberty of planning a little field trip to the art museum in the city. In my hands I hold your assignments for that day. You'll each be assigned one piece of art, which you will study and write a short paper on." He looked to each one of his students faces as he passed out the papers. For many, who had taken the class just because they needed the credit, he saw either boredom or complaint registering on their faces. But for the precious few who had taken the class out of the love of art he saw excitement. When his gaze swung to Claire's he saw the raw joy all over her pretty face. She was going to love this trip, he thought, and strangely he felt very pleased with himself that he could make her face light up with such happiness. Suddenly the thought of other expressions on her face made his groin tighten with desire. An image of Claire's face twisted up in ecstasy as she arched and writhed beneath him had his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Holy fucking hell, he thought, how could she make him lose control like that? He was taking them to a museum to study art, she thought. Finally, some work out of the classroom. Perhaps she would be able to get away from him or at least out of his smoldering gaze for a few hours and focus on her work. The huge smile on her face faded slightly as she saw him staring intently at her. She glanced to her left and right quickly to make sure no one realized how hard he was staring at her. All of a sudden she saw his chest rising and falling rapidly as she made out slight gasping breaths coming from him. He looked away from her and dismissed the class, telling them to take the extra time to do some research on their pieces and to prepare for the trip. He walked quickly to his office door, stiffly it seemed, and disappeared inside. Now she was most certainly unsure about talking to him. But she bolstered up her confidence and strode to his office door, knocking politely as she imagined how she could possibly begin to explain what needed to be said. When he opened the door she gasped as she saw the hungry way he looked at her, over her whole body. Suddenly the look was gone as if he had purposely tried to contain his emotions. "Yes, Claire? What can I do for you?" he asked, his tone only slightly heated. "Umm...yes, well, I...uh...wanted to talk to you about something. Something very important." She said, her voice gaining confidence as she spoke. "Oh?" he questioned, "Well, please come in and have a seat." "Well, uh, ok I guess." She said as she followed him into his office. He motioned toward a chair positioned in front of his desk. He waited until she sat before he leaned a hip against the edge of the desk. She looked up at him, feeling uncomfortable at his being so close. "Mr. Daughton, I wanted to talk to you about...well, about how I acted the other day in class. It was ridiculous. I mean, Christ, you're my teacher...I guess I wanted to apologize and to say that it would never happen again." She hung her head as she blushed slightly. She felt his hand under her chin as he tilted her head to look at him. "Claire, I appreciate your sense of professionalism, but I want you to know, there is nothing wrong with the feelings you're having. In fact..." he started, but his words were cut short as his hands began to slide down her throat and reached for her breast. She brought him back to reality as she jerked away from him, a panicked, yet definitely aroused look on her face. He cleared his throat. "In fact, Claire, I must admit to having some similar feelings myself." "Mr. Daughton, please," she said, her voice a bit too breathy for her liking. "Mr. Daughton, I came here today only to let you know I intend for our relationship to stay strictly professional. I want to maintain a friendly distance, as to not encourage any...out of control emotions, on either part." She finished with a huge breath, her shoulders trembling slightly as she looked defiantly into his eyes. He smiled easily. "You, of course, are right, Claire, and I wholeheartedly apologize for acting the way I did just now. I will respect your wishes and keep a safe distance." He said, hoping he was convincing. But the challenge had just taken a very different edge, and he so badly wanted to see how far he could bend her before she broke to him. "I should go." She mumbled, as she stood and walked quickly to the door. "Goodbye Mr. Daughton, I'll see you in class tomorrow." She said with a quick smile as she slipped out the door. She had done it! Oh, but the way he had touched her in his office, the feel of his fingertips against her skin had her tingling with anticipation before she had remembered why she was there and stopped him. But she had made her decision very clear, and he had agreed to what she wanted. She had won this battle, she thought, now the only battle she had to win was the one that was raging against her body. Just the look in his crystal gaze was enough to melt her, to render her helpless against his will. But she would be strong, she would be sure of it. At least she hoped... As the door closed on him, he sank into his chair. He had crossed the line, out of curiosity, out of desire, but he had still crossed it. But damn, did her silky, creamy white skin feel fantastic against his fingers. He had wanted to take her breast in his hand, and take her lips with his own, to taste her in his mouth. He had wanted to make her moan into his mouth, voicing the desire he knew lurked beneath her cool reserve to keep him away. She was driving him damn crazy, and he'd be damned if he let himself loose his control again before she lost hers. Seasons of The Heart: Fall Ch. 04 The next few days went off without many problems. Occasionally Claire would find him looking at her, his gaze intent on her, but other than looking, he made no moves for her. Part of her was disappointed, but on the other hand, she reminded herself, that that was what she had wanted. Finally the day of the art museum trip came and she and her classmates prepared for the trip. They would be walking, as the museum wasn't far from the campus. As the students, bundled up in scarves and hats, huddled together on the sidewalk, Mr. Daughton strode toward them to round them up for the trek. The students mostly walked in groups of three or four, groups of friends walking together. But Claire, he noticed, walked mostly by herself, only talking occasionally to someone or another. Curious, he walked up beside her. "So, which clique are you part of Claire?" he asked. She blushed slightly and shook her head. "I'm really not part of any group, Mr. D, I mostly keep to myself, and people are pretty quick to oblige. I guess I'm just not the socializing type." She looked at him sideways and shrugged her shoulders. She shivered slightly as he leaned down, his lips very close to her ear. "You can be part of my group Claire, cause I sure as hell find it hard to leave you alone." He whispered. He let his hand stray to the small of her back, an almost possessive gesture, before he strode powerfully off to the front of the group, leading his students. Claire was speechless, and also very aroused. Her cheeks were bright pink, and it wasn't from the wind or the chill. She would have to be very, very careful around him in the near future if she wanted to keep a level head. He stopped the group of students in front of the museum, to remind them of their assignment. Some groaned as they remembered what they were there for, while others chattered excitedly. He looked over the crowd of students to Claire, and saw her, her eyes down as she studied her paper. The students dispersed to their various sections and he saw Claire look back at him briefly as she walked away. Claire found that her assignment was in a wing of the museum that was located very far away from where many of the other students were finding theirs. She was for the most part isolated from the rest of her class, but didn't give it much thought as she began to lose herself in the piece. It was a gorgeously done nude work, the subject of the painting gloriously free of inhibitions as she lounged upon a hillside of lush green grass beneath a flowering tree. The colors were so vibrant, it seemed to be a photograph instead of an 18th century painting. She could almost feel the slight breeze that would be rustling through the delicate pink blossoms of the tree. She could feel the warm rays of sunlight glistening off of the woman's soft, luscious breasts. She could feel the tender blades of grass brushing lovingly against her curves, her milky thighs. As he approached her from behind, he could see her lost in thought over the painting he had chosen for her. He knew that she would appreciate it and wouldn't shy away from the subject matter as some of his students would. He could see the soft blush of self awareness in her cheeks. He walked up beside her, and when she didn't turn to acknowledge him, he slid his arm around her waist. When she didn't tell him to move or to get his hands off of her, he slowly moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. As his large hands smoothed over her stomach and hips, Claire sighed, leaning her head back against his chest. He planted his hands on her hips and pulled her back against him, letting the hard plane of his body hold her soft, pliant one against his. Her fiery copper hair slid off one shoulder, exposing a length of soft, graceful neck. He wanted to touch her more, ached to, but he was sure she would wake up from whatever delicious dream world she was in and tell him to fuck off. Before he could let her go, though, he knew he had to taste her. Slowly, with his hands running small, gentle circles over her hips and stomach, he lowered his head to her neck, his breath shaky as he hastily licked his lips. He lowered his head the final painful inch and his lips descended upon her skin. As he began to suck, and nibble her delightful skin, she moaned. A helpless sort of cry that made his cock go rock hard in seconds. His hands slid upwards with a desperate need to feel more of her. His fingers slid up over her breasts and he groaned as he felt her hard nipples against her shirt. Daydreams were a funny thing, she thought, as she imagined she was the woman beneath the tree. In her daydream, her lover had come up over the hillside and was now holding her against him, his lips warm on her neck. She felt him urgently hard against her ass, his hands sweeping upward to grasp her breasts. Then all of a sudden she realized it felt too real, way too real for a daydream. She opened her eyes and looked down to see male hands covering her breasts. She felt warm, wet lips against her neck, and a suspiciously hard object against her backside. She stiffened, preparing to fight off the rapist. Suddenly the hands stopped and she whirled around. She almost screamed when she realized she was staring face to face with Michael Daughton, professor of art history. What stopped her scream was the look of desire, mixed with the look of... it couldn't be. No, he couldn't be feeling ashamed at what he had done, could he? She stared in bewilderment as he hung his head and dropped his hands, backing away from her. He felt like the World's Greatest Asshole. As his dark gaze dropped from her confused ones, he let his hands fall away from her and stepped away. "God, Claire, I am so sorry," he said, "I completely went against what you wanted, I know, its just....Christ, there's no reason to make excuses, I'm sorry, I'm just going to say that." He managed to rasp out as he saw her face register bewilderment. Feeling like a dick, he turned away from her, knowing she must hate him, he walked out of the museum to wait in the courtyard for the other students to finish up. Claire couldn't move. She was frozen to the spot. He had left her, left her standing there, aroused and hot, and all he had said was sorry? When she had turned and found herself standing surrounded by his arms, hunger written all over his face, all she had wanted was to kiss him, release the violent passion. The feeling had confused her and she was sure that he had taken her hesitation as her not wanting him in return. She knew she had to do something, having felt his hands on her, his lips hot against her neck, and his cock so hard against her, hard for her, she wanted it now more than ever. There could be no turning back. As Claire walked through the lobby of the museum, she felt a fierce determination come over her. It was actually kind of frightening, she had never been the kind to boldly go after what she wanted. But she wanted Michael Daughton like hell, and by God, she was going to have him. He saw her coming out towards the group, and by the look on her face he was sure she was going to give him a piece of her mind for practically raping her in the gallery. Wanting to avoid a public confrontation, he quickly turned and led the group of chattering college students down the street and back towards campus. Holy hell, she thought angrily, he was going to avoid her. Well, tomorrow is always another day isn't it?, she decided, he wasn't going to be able to avoid her for long. She would make herself known to him, whether he still wanted her or not. Seasons of The Heart: Fall Ch. 05 The week following the incident in the museum was like a living hell for Michael, she was constantly goading him on in the class room, many time causing him to cower behind his podium or his desk to hide the growing erection she aroused. The things she wore to his class, he knew were meant to tempt him. He had never seen her in anything but jeans and sweaters, but all of a sudden she was wearing tiny little skirts, very low cut sweaters, and jeans and t-shirts tight enough to make him have to catch his breath. But lord she was making it hard for him to keep his promise to her. It was as if she was purposely trying to get him to do something. He couldn't get his mind off of her out of the classroom either. When he sat at home at night, he couldn't sleep, and when he did sleep, he was hounded by dreams of her sprawled gorgeously naked over his sheets, her skin sweet and her lips yielding as she gave herself to him over and over and....it had to stop. She was getting supremely frustrated. What more did he want from her, she was practically parading herself around naked in front of him and he still held back. She knew she was having an effect on him, she could see him hard in his trousers whenever she would put on a little show for him. Hell, one day she even came to class dressed like a schoolgirl. The tight plaid mini-skirt and low cut sweater she wore had made him stop in his tracks. She had even played with him a bit and showed him a flash of white lace panties, but still he made no move! Well, she would just have to up the ante then, wouldn't she? When she walked into class late one Friday morning, just as he was about to chastise her, he didn't just lose his train of thought, it sailed completely over the bridge and disappeared forever. The jeans she wore looked painted on, slight rips in the denim exposed luscious glimpses of her skin, the white button-down was tight against her body, many of the buttons undone to reveal several inches of cleavage. What made his heart pound was the look in her eyes, eyes made to undo a man, make a man bend to the will of wicked women. As his gaze swept down again, he stopped breathing as he saw her tight nipples, the hard peaks pressed taut against the fabric, no lace or satin barrier in sight. As she walked to her seat she bent down in front of him, her gorgeously rounded ass in the tight denim directly in his line of sight. She sat down and stared into his eyes hard before looking away. He gulped before finding the words. "Miss O'Malley," he said managing to sound stern, "since you've decided you can afford to be late to my class, we'll make sure you make up the time lost after class." He said the last with as much suggestion in it as possible, and looking at her as she bit her bottom lip, he knew it had hit home. She had finally pushed him over the edge, he thought, as he paced his office, while she sat rigid in the chair placed before his desk. When he turned on her fiercely, she squeaked audibly, the look in his eyes managing to frighten her and arouse her at the same time. As he paced away from her he began to speak. "Claire, how far do you think you can push a man before he breaks? You told me you wanted me to keep a fair distance, to maintain a 'professional relationship'. Tell me how am I even supposed to fathom doing so when you test my patience and my libido, every goddamn day." At her gasp he went on, enraged. "You've been punishing me every day for what happened in the museum, and Christ, I told you I was sorry for that. And what do you do? Try and make me break my promise to you! I tell you I cant take much more of this, girl!" He was facing the wall, shaking with fury and pent up sexual frustration, so when he heard her slight chuckle explode into fierce giggles he turned on her in bewilderment. "What in Christ's name is so goddamn funny, girl?" When she could breathe again she began to gasp out the words. "Oh...my god...I thought...you didn't want me....anymore after...I hesitated....in the museum." His look of wild confusion sobered her up. "Seriously, I figured you thought I was just some little girl who didn't know what she wanted so you moved on. This past week I've just been trying to make you want me again and make a move. When you touched me in the museum, I realized I couldn't live with just a 'professional relationship', I wanted you and I still want you. Bad." She said it in a rush and blushed. She stood to go, thinking she'd blown it, when, in a second he was crushing her to his chest, her legs shaking as she felt herself being backed against the door. He leaned his head down to her ear and whispered roughly, "Honey, I wanted you then, I still want you now, I never stopped wanting you, only now its different, now I need you." She moaned and arched into him as his lips descended on hers, his groan muffled by her mouth as the taste of her enveloped him. His hands slid from her breasts down to cup her ass tightly. Before she knew it she was being lifted into the air and she gasped hard as she felt his hard cock pressed snug against her throbbing pussy. She moaned in disappointment as he set her down, but it was quickly drowned as he smothered her with more ravaging kisses. She felt his hands grab at her shirt, tearing it apart, buttons flying everywhere, her nipples suddenly bare to his touch. She groaned deeply as she felt his mouth close on her nipple, sucking hard, his teeth grazing the over-sensitive flesh. She frantically tried to pull his sweater over his head, but whimpered as she fumbled. He stepped back and ripped his sweater over his head, along with the t-shirt beneath it. He reached out to her and began tugging the tight jeans off her hips, picking her up again as she stepped out of them. He pressed her back against the wall, feeling her heat and her wetness soak through the fabric of his slacks, burning hot against his throbbing hard cock. She moaned and ground her pussy against him, desperate to feel him inside her, damning the fabric between them. She reached down to free him from his pants when he caught her wrists. She looked up at him, but forgot the moment when he began kissing her again. She felt her arms being brought up over her head, pinned against the wall by one of his large hands. She felt his lips slide down her throat to suckle against her neck, driving her crazy as his tongue flicked lazily against her fevered skin. He ran a fingertip down her trembling belly and paused, leaving her gasping and whimpering, just above her mound. She bucked her hips, trying to get his hand to touch her. She heard him chuckle, a devious, wickedly sexual sound that made her flush. He swept his fingertips in wide circles, coming ever closer to her heat, but always retreating when the moment seemed about to come. Suddenly she cried out as his finger found her hot little nub and pressed hard. She was slick and open when his fingers slid deep inside her, feeling her clench tight around him. He began to slowly rub her clit in tight little circles, kissing her again as she cried out for him and ground her hips against his hand. Suddenly he felt her begin to tremble hard, her head rolling against the wall as her tight flesh began to spasm against his fingers. She moaned his name, her eyes rolling in ecstasy. It was too much for him, he needed to be inside of her, and quickly. He fumbled for his zipper and groaned when his throbbing head came in contact with her hot, slick flesh. "Oh God, Claire!" he cried out sharply as his cock sank deep inside her, her tight heat wrapped around him. He hadn't realized he'd stopped moving until her fingernails began to dig into his shoulders, her little cries egging him into motion. He began to slide in and out of her slowly, his hands on her hips to bring her down on him. Suddenly he needed to be pounding into her, to feel her on him, flesh slapping together in a passionate rhythm. He pounded her into the wall, her throaty moans driving him faster and faster. He could feel it building, from down deep in his toes, it raced up his legs and straight into his cock, the climax so intense he wanted to just pound her soft, tender flesh into oblivion. He cried out once more, "Oh fuck, Claire baby, please come for me, I need you to come with me!" he screamed it as he felt his orgasm overtake him. He heard her cry out, scream as she shattered around him, her flesh squeezing his so hard it was all he could do to explode deep inside her, holding her pinned tightly against the wall as colors burst behind his eyes. The last thing Claire knew, they were sliding to the floor in a sweaty, exhausted, heap.