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“Just give me five, and I’ll be ready.” Seldon waves me off, flopping back onto my bed to inspect the green chrome polish on his nails.
“Take ten and make yourself cute. No rush.”
***
“So, question. Roan wasn’t your first, was he?” Seldon catches me off guard as I slide the hangers full of tee shirts across the racks. After a very quick shower we’d managed to escape the Black Stump without catching sight of Roan. Edith promised to let Mauvy know we were heading to Twin Heads when she was done pillaging my old belongings.
Not that I needed to tell anyone. I’m an adult and free to do what I want. I just didn’t want them to worry if anyone came to check on me.
We’d piled into Seldon’s crappy, old, convertible four-wheel drive, and he’d torn out of the car park blasting pop music out of tinny speakers. We’d cruised down the winding, tree-lined mountainous roads to Twin Heads singing along at the top of our lungs, sun on our face, wind blowing our hair wild.
When we’d pulled up, he’d insisted our first step was ice lattes for energy, and then he’d proceeded to drag me to every clothing store in town.
Twin Heads marketed itself as a small town, but with its position as being the easiest, not to mention friendliest, accessto the Whisper Woods and its historical seaside location, it is actually quite a bustling township. Almost a city in its own right.
We’d walked up and down the aesthetically pleasing, coastal-inspired main street, our arms sagging with our purchases. “Ours” specifically because I couldn’t help but buy Seldon some new bits and pieces here and there. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, and he looked cute in the sheer white shirt with bold floral embroidery. After that it just became more fun to buy for the both of us.
I hold up a shirt, not even looking at it before putting it back just to avoid his question for another moment.
“Uh, no. There was someone. Back at the University.” On the other side of the racks Seldon’s head pops up like a children’s toy, his face far too enthusiastic for gossip.
“Tell meeverything.” I can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. Giving up on this rack of clothes, I shrug my shoulder and turn towards the other rack, Seldon coming along like a puppy following bacon, sidling up next to me.
“Not much to tell really. He was in some of the classes I helped facilitate.”
“You were hisprofessor?!”Seldon fans himself dramatically, and I bump my shoulder into his arm.
“Knock it off, it was nothing like that. He approached me when I was finished guest lecturing in their classes and asked for help with his tutoring.” The iced coffee I’d enjoyed earlier curdles in my stomach as I remember how nervous I’d been when Darius had approached me on campus.
Sensing there is more to the story, Seldon’s big yellow eyes soften, and he nods encouragingly. It’s embarrassingly little encouragement, but it’s enough to unlock the dam that has been building in me, releasing the need that had been bubbling inside since, well, forever, but especially since my capture and rescue.The need to share, to finally pour every detail of everything that had happened between me and Darius.
The words flowed from me. How he was, without a doubt, a beautiful man, even if he had always seemed cold and aloof. I remember being impressed that even at the end of a long day of classes, his mousey blonde hair was still perfectly styled, carefully parted at the side and pushed back. Never a hair out of place, like it was scared to risk his wrath going rogue, his signature button-down shirts and slacks still stiffly pressed like it was freshly laundered.
I’d always tried to play the part of the dignified professor and academic, but my shirts had always become rumpled and my curly hair chaotic after running my hands through it a thousand times a day in frustration. I’d looked like the mess that I was. But then he cornered me in one of the quads while I was rushing to my office to begin the chase of my latest wild hair. I can’t even remember what it was my gift had been inspired to know every single detail about before it inevitably moved on.
He’d called my name, and I’d spilled my coffee all over myself in shock, not used to being approached by the students at the University. It was another one of those awkward things. They had been close to my age, some older, some younger, only by a matter of a couple of years, but I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t even technically a professor. I occupied a kind of nebulous space there, part-teacher, part-researcher, part-side show exhibition.
Ok, maybe the last part is me being melodramatic again, but it’s how I felt whenever they had trotted me out at fundraisers and the like. The strange man with the unique and extraordinary brain.
Darius had helped me to clean up and smiled at me in a way that I’d never really experienced before. He’d flirted shamelessly as he’d asked for tutoring help in a couple of his classes. I’d turned down plenty of tutoring opportunities, mainly out of lackof interest and time. And because my upbringing had made me especially wary of people using me for their own gain. But I’d been struck dumb with horniness and agreed to give him a helping hand.
Which had eventually led to a different type of helping hand.
It had been… okay. Not the mind bending pleasure that I’d expected, but then, as a twenty-year-old virgin, I’d thought I’d just built my expectations up too high. All too often, I’d “helped Darius out” and been left hanging. Eventually, things progressed, hand jobs had led to blow jobs, which had eventually led to me sleeping with Darius.
He had always insisted on topping, and I’d been so desperate for any ounce of affection that I’d agreed. I’d learnt quickly that he was just as ungenerous in that regard too. I didn’t mind bottoming; in fact, through my own super thorough and incredibly scientific experimentation, I’d found it incredibly pleasurable. But Darius had left all prep up to me, more often than not chasing his own orgasm at the expense of my own.
I’d been so wrapped in having someone that was mine, I didn’t see the parade of red flags he’d been dropping.
It started when I smiled and waved at him on the grounds of the Uni after our first tutoring session, and he’d coldly turned his back on me. It confused me at the time, as when we were alone together during our session, he didn’t hesitate to flirt with me or laugh at my awkward attempts at jokes.
The whole session he’d been in my space, holding eye contact a little too long, leaning in a little too close, brushing his hand “accidentally” against mine where I’d traced it along the text book.
I put the dismissal from my mind, writing it off as a mistake. Maybe he didn’t see me, I told myself, even though I’d have sworn he’d been looking right at me when I waved to him with his friends.
The next tutoring session, I’d casually dropped I’d seen him, and he apologised profusely, telling me that he hadn’t wanted to explain to his friends that he was seeing a tutor. He’d asked that we keep our tutoring to ourselves. He leaned in close when he’d whispered the suggestion, like we were sharing a secret. His intensely dark blue eyes held me captivated, and he tucked one of my loose curls behind my ear.
I’d been done for.
