Political Interactions

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Authors Note: All mentioned characters are indeed eighteen (18) and above. Thank you to ‘Ginger’, because without you I would not have had the guts to publish this nor would it have been named. Thank you again.


The libraries in college are extensive at best. There are entire floors that go unmapped. The lights are not the modern motion sensors that the more frequented floors possess. For this reason and this reason only, people (more often couples) come down here to be alone. Every aisle, every shelf, has been…christened. So to speak. Both interesting and disgusting at the same time.

The lowest level, the back-most row. Her body stood encased in shadows. It was so incredibly dark. She had had to come down here with a flashlight in order not to get caught by flicking on lights.

Slim, strong hands held her coat closed, the high heels the only thing that gave away any sort of hint to her plan. An a-line flared coat with bell sleeves and a deep hood covered her costume. The short, extremely short, black and red plaid skirt. The too-tight white button up top so thin that it showed the coloring of her black and red plaid bra. The bra was her bursa escort favorite as well as the match to her skirt; it lifted her generous breasts and presented them on a bed of satin and lace.

The shadows at the end of her chosen row were split with a beam of strong white light. ‘Good, he got my note.’She thought to herself. She had been afraid that he would not show. Strong legs took her backwards, taking the turn to hide her body in the previous row. The light at once struck the spot she had so recently vacated. The beam widened as he came fast down the row, only cutting off his light when he reached the end of the corridor. She had left specific instructions: Stand at the end of the last row on the bottom floor, left side of course, and face the opposite way. So far he was following her instructions. As her eyes adjusted once more to the darkness around them, she could make out where he was and what he was doing. He was loosening his tie. ‘Good, he didn’t change.’

She observed him for another moment before stepping lightly upon the tile to stand behind him. Even in spike heels she knew how to move. She knew exactly where to put her hands to get the maximum effect. Fingertips bursa merkez escort pressed against the ridges of his abs, her lips coming to rest against his ear. She knew he had thought she would come before him, walking towards him like a queen to her king. A wicked smile curved plump lips. She was not his queen, more like his mistress.

“Hello Professor Crawley.”

Her fingertips caressed the buttons of his shirt, fingers so nimble in their mission as he drew in a ragged breath.

“Hello Miss Eden.”

A slow nod, her cheek skimming across his jaw as her lips parted against his neck.

“How are you doing?”

She smirked as her hands pulled his shirt open across his chest.

“I am..well enough.”

He taught advanced politics and encouraged nothing but the most thought out and well spoken opinions to be shared. His pupils, of the female variety, thought him the most handsome thing on the school grounds. She only took his class because her parents wanted her to understand their way of life, both were state senators..which left her quite well off, to say the least. Either she bought her grades or…earned them a different way. This time though, bursa sınırsız escort she didn’t need to buy or use anything else to earn the A she received in his class. His class was actually very interesting. As was he.

Blue eyes closed as she took in the heavy scent of his aftershave. Red painted lips parted against his jaw and were dragged so very lightly across his skin until she could take the flesh of his earlobe between those carmine lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Obsidian tipped fingers trailed the expanse of his abdomen, at first spread wide across his pectorals and then forming a diamond shape as they traveled down the ridges of his abdomen. Her hands brushed his away when they found his trying, almost frantically, to unfasten the pressed black trousers. Her fingers took over his previous mission, unfastening the trousers but slowly so she could savor every last sound he made. His every soft whimper and moan as her slim fingers brushed the contours of his cock.

“I want you.”

Well wasn’t that obvious? A devious smirk accompanied her soft mischievous laugh that fanned out against his ear. His belt was loosened and her hands pushed at the cumbersome trousers, feeling victorious as the fabric pooled around his feet. His legs were so strong, his body so muscled it lead her to believe that politics wasn’t the only thing he was passionate about. Her hands withdrew the shirt from his broad shoulders just a moment before she took a step back.

“Your turn.”

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