Stay After Class, page 20
Even though I was feeling the soreness between my legs, I wanted every inch of him and wanted to feel his orgasm rock through his body and into me. My hips kept moving in rhythm with his. We were wet and sweaty and wild.
“You’re going to be sore tomorrow if you keep it up like that,” he said in the heat of passion.
He lowered my legs from his shoulders. I immediately wrapped my legs around him and pulled him closer.
“I want to be sore,” was my breathy response. “When I walk around tomorrow, I want to remember how you felt inside me.”
He greeted my need by pressing deeper and deeper with each rhythmic thrust. He was truly into me now, and we just could not get any closer or any deeper. From beneath, I furiously rocked my hips against him, desperate to feel even more.
Just as I felt his muscles tighten and his breathing hitch before his release, my own contractions rocked through me. It spread through my lower parts until I felt the fire rise from my center. I came almost at the precise time he did, which made my muscles squeeze him in a most delicious way. Then suddenly, after being transported to the wild world of uninhibited sex, there I was lying naked with Jem inside me! His body slumped atop mine, and his head found my shoulder for a moment of respite. He kissed my skin, still inside me.
“Thank you.” He lifted his head to look at me.
I felt I should have a new badge of womanhood stamped on me: I did it with my hot, sexy professor.
“Well, that was a lovely end to your opening night,” I said. “And finally, an opening for me too.”
“You’re not going to tell me you were just using me for my body, are you?” He seemed softer, more relaxed.
“Would that be so wrong?” I asked playfully.
“Yes,” he said. “Because now we are truly connected and you are truly mine.”
“You mean I’m your girlfriend?”
He nodded. “And it means I love you.”
I stopped breathing for a moment. What did he say?
“Really?”
“Did you ever read my note on the back of the gallery post card, the one I gave you the last day of school?”
“I forgot about that. I thought it was directions to the gallery.”
He aimed a mischievous smile my way and he stood up. “Read it when you get a chance,” he said as he walked to the bathroom to dispose of the condom.
“So I guess you are sending me home in a cab now,” I said, “so you can get back to your guests?”
“You’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. You are the only guest I am interested in.”
“So what happens next?”
“I make you dinner. And make you breakfast. And make love to you again in between.”
He stood alongside the bed and extended a hand to help me up.
“If we were a king and queen, someone would rush into the room to check the sheets and would announce that our union was consummated.”
He pulled the covers off and I could see a slight bit of blood on his sheets.
“Thanks for my birthday gift.” I said. “It’s the best present ever.”
“Happy birthday, my love.”
When he left my side for a moment, I looked through my purse for the invite to the opening, to see what he had scribbled there.
“If we make it to this day and you still want me, I will make love to you, and make you mine, forever. And it will be because I love you.”
Just then, my VirgEnd App went off. This time it was playing, “Happy Days Are Here Again.”
Chapter Twenty-six
June 5
My Birthday at Jem’s
VirgEnd Countdown:
Mission Accomplished
My parents wanted to see me for my birthday, but I opted to stay in bed all day with my boyfriend.
We got out a few times to eat and went right back in.
A full semester, plus two weekends, of backed up semen takes some time to release. But we also spent a lot of time cuddling and being close.
I had two last things to do to complete Project VirgEnd: sign out of the app and check in with Tara.
I sent her a text with an eggplant, a plus sign, and a peach.
She sent me a thumbs up. Then came a question.
Tara: Professor Handsome Pants or Penis Model Man?
Me: PHP … But thanks for the backup plan. And everything.
Tara: Roger that.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Three Months Later
September
Basic Art Classroom
De Verge University
Queens, New York
I got to walk in the graduation ceremony on June 9, days after my virginity bit the dust, but I still had a summer school course and could not get my formal graduation documents until it was complete. Finally, that day arrived too!
Just as I left the registrar’s office with my diploma, a text came in from Jem.
Jem: Come to my classroom, Ms. Graduate. Let’s celebrate.
Me: Heading your way
This was the first time I would be back in his room since the end of last semester.
At the end of the semester of my lost virginity, I would later discover, he gave me a B for Basic Art. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the grade on my transcript. I thought I deserved an A for effort, but apparently he thought it was fair, and the grade helped convince the department head there had been no hanky-panky to improve my grade point average. It pissed me off but it helped him avoid suspicions.
Tara’s brilliant plan to send art model James to the opening also helped. Even though she really did tell him he may have to have sex with me, she later revealed she knew he would create a distraction and also get Jem jealous enough to stake his claim. With all the photos of James and me canoodling together, University officials, and gallery owners, assumed he was my boyfriend, not Jem. So we’d been able to stay under the radar—until today. Now that I had my diploma in hand we could let the world know we were a couple.
Jem was still was a full-time professor, even though his boss saw him scoop me into a cab outside the gallery. Turns out that the administrators had some skeletons—of the student kind—in the closet. That, and the prestige Jem brought to the university, moved them to deal with his “indiscretion” with just a friendly warning. I didn’t realize that he could have been brought up on serious charges and that it had led to his worries. They also seemed to be fast-tracking his tenure, which made him very happy.
It turned out, I did get my boss in the Security Department to help find out who slipped the photo of Jem and me under the gallery door. Camera footage revealed it was the wicked gallery owner, Regina Alcott, just trying to make Jem think there was some sort of threat so that he would break up with me. We later learned, as Jem suspected, that her son’s flirtation with me was for the same cause. They simply did not want me to distract him from making them millions of dollars.
And apparently I did not.
He got an email the day after the opening, when we were celebrating in bed, that his show had already made a million dollars. The number grew over the summer.
So the big gallery opening turned out great. The show was a financial success and gave him great standing in the art community. He also has enough money to tell the school to shove it, if need be. And the gallery made enough money that he could tell them to shove it when they demanded, Awe, Wonder, and a Penis back. It hung in his bedroom now as a proud reminder of all that had brought us together and of the grand gesture that sealed the deal.
On top of all else, we had fessed up to our relationship to my mother and she did not seem too shocked. We were having dinner with my parents tonight!
After that opening night drama, we kept our relationship outside of the classroom while I was taking my final class and he was teaching summer school. And we also kept it out of the White Room, since I had graduated to sharing his bed.
As I walked through the familiar suite of art classrooms, I saw his door ajar. Once again, he was packing up art supplies and organizing. He looked up and smiled.
“Ah, Miss Slade, so good to see you in these parts again,” he said, pulling me into the room. “I have a surprise.”
He locked the door behind us and turned me toward the blackboard, where he had positioned a big package wrapped in brown paper and string.
“Open it,” he said, moving me toward it. “It’s a graduation gift.”
I slowly untied the string, and let it slide down the brown paper. The paper was folded to cover the gift, not taped, so I slowly pulled one panel open and then the next. It was Sacred Love, the first Jem Nichols painting I ever saw. The one I fell in love with.
“Oh my God, Jem, you’re giving this to me? I love this painting so much. I know you do too. Why are you giving it away?”
“Because you are my Sacred Love,” he said. “I painted that with my heart, in hope it would draw my true love to me some day. And here you are.”
I rushed over and hugged him.
“We’ve come a long way in a short time,” he said, taking my hand. “There is still so much more for us to do in our lives, things we have to do for ourselves, like grad school for you. But I want us to be together, Amanda.”
“We are together,” I said, tears welling.
“I was thinking of the biggest declaration of our love we could make,” he said, letting go of my hand to walk toward the painting. He lifted it off the ledge of the blackboard and rested it on the floor, to reveal a message he’d written in chalk.
MARRY ME
Today, tomorrow, in five years from now … but marry me
“Oh my God, Jem.” It took a moment for the words to register in my brain.
He lifted my chin with one strong finger and looked deeply in my eyes. It warmed me to see all the love there. We began as an affair, a sweet taboo, but our relationship had grown into something special. He took my hand and slipped a ring on. I looked down to see a beautiful round diamond sparkling up at me. It was in a setting with sapphires that matched my eyes.
“Finally, you are no longer a student in this school,” he said. “And you are no longer a student in the arts of love-making. But I want you to be my wife. We can do this now or after grad school, or anytime. Just say you will be mine.”
“I am yours,” I said. “You had me from ‘stay after class.’”
I refrained from doing a happy dance but I was happy!
He pushed a button on his phone and the old Smokey Robinson song “Happy” came on. It was the song he was playing that night when I’d ventured back to his classroom to see him and he kissed me. That was the night it all began but he’d rushed us out, not wanting things to go any further. So much had changed since then.
He swayed me to the music, pressing closer, and softly singing the lyrics in my ear. Then he led me to the back of the room, pressed me against the wall, and gingerly lifted my skirt.
“And now that we are engaged, we can have sex in my classroom,” he said, pulling down my panties and opening his pants. “That’s if you want to, Ms. Slade.”
“I do.”
♥ The End ♥
Amanda’s VirgEnd Playlist
Happy – Smokey Robinson
Teachers Pet – Doris Day
Teach Me Tonight – She and He
Last First Kiss – One Direction
I’ll Make Love to You – Boyz II Men
Gentle, Calling Your Name –Frederick and Janice Dowling
Yes I’m Ready – Barbara Mason
Let’s Go All the Way – The Whispers
Let’s Get it On – Marvin Gaye
Between The Sheets – Isley Brothers
Amanda – Boston
She – Elvis Costello
Virtue – Jess Cook
You can listen to these and more on Amanda’s list on Spotify
About A.C. Rose
A.C. Rose is a sex and love journalist who also loves to write very steamy romance books.
As a former editor of an iconic women’s magazine, sexy stories and beautiful men have long been her beat.
She has written extensively on sexuality, relationships, female desire, and the “kissing book” industry.
Has real life provided fodder for her fictional worlds? She’ll never tell.
She is a member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), Passionate Ink (PI), and the Author’s Guild (AG).
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A.C. Rose, Stay After Class
