Maggie and The Professor

"Tell me to go and I'll go." David leaned back against the door, one hand resting loosely on the knob. But Maggie only stood there, stone-faced, daring him to do whatever it was he had come to do. The dusky-sweet green of her eyes fixed on him, and she trembled for just a moment. David ambled toward her and stood so close she could smell his soap and sweat. He sighed roughly into her damp hair, his hands beginning to trace her jaw line. When his fingers reached her chin, he tilted her head upward and brought his mouth to her top lip, which he kissed quietly. She nipped at his bottom lip, and this was all the permission that he needed.

David grasped the sides of the robe to bring Maggie close against his body, and she found herself trapped between cool tile and David's radiating heat. He covered her mouth with his in a demanding kiss that dizzied her. A quick hand went to the place between her breasts and tugged the towel open. Her eyes remained on his as the towel fell to their feet.

David stepped back to look at her, worshipful of her, of the lithe shape before him. He reached out and Maggie took his hand and, with one last nervous look at the fallen towel, let him lead her out of the bathroom.

David had intended to take her into his bedroom but realized he couldn't make it that far. He crushed Maggie against the living room wall and kissed her hungrily. His hands squeezed her waist, then slid down to her hips where he grabbed her again, as if he making sure she was real. The thick wool of his sweater rasped against her bare breasts, eliciting a gasp from Maggie. Their senses crackled, amplified by each other's presence.

Maggie tugged David's sweater up and over his head, tousling his hair in the process. She let his robe fall to her feet. The coy look she gave him as she sank to her knees nearly undid him. In one deft movement, she had pulled down his pants and boxers, freeing his cock. He'd been hard even before he'd walked in on her in the bathroom. In fact, thinking about it now, he couldn't remember a time since he'd met her that he'd stopped feeling the tumult of desire.

His knees locked as he felt the soft velvet press of her mouth against him. She let her hands roam, from the head of his cock to its base and the thin skin of his inner thighs, her touch feather-light. The delicacy of her caress did not prepare him for how suddenly she took him in, how eager, how yielding.

Her eyes were on his as she gave over control of the rhythm to him, meeting his every thrust with the downward glide of her wet mouth, the ring of her lips tight around him, her tongue playing tricks. David knew that he would cum if she continued, and he wanted more.

"Stop, stop." Maggie released him and looked up, and he couldn't help admire her. Her luminous eyes, the lovely breasts, mouth reddened, the glow of her hair in the firelight. For a moment he was breathless, then thoughtless as he pulled Maggie to her feet, then lifted her up and all but tossed her onto the couch.

Before she had time to adjust, he had straddled her. He nipped at her chin and relaxed his arms around her, allowing his weight to fall against her. Maggie moaned.

David paused. "Am I hurting you?"

"Not at all." The weight was delicious, she thought as she surrendered to the sweet ache of his weight, his thorough attention, the gentle bites and kisses, and the sensation of his hot breath over her sensitive skin. He caught her breath and released it in one long, warm exhalation across the skin of her neck.

He lifted himself up and sat back on his knees, watching her.

"What is it?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"Just looking at you. You're beautiful."

Then he was traveling, sinking lower, brushing his mouth across her stomach and reveling in the resulting shiver, not stopping until he was between her legs, nipping at her thighs, then tasting her. She shivered again, shivering into him as he licked a slow line along her lips. He glanced up at Maggie, eyes closed, arms thrown behind her, grasping the arm of the couch. He watched her eyes fly open as he brushed his mouth over her clit, and then as he took her into his mouth. The motion of his tongue was almost imperceptible, but its effects were powerful. There was a shudder, a gasp, and Maggie's hands were at his temples, clutching his hair as she trembled beneath him.

David rose and admired the flush across Maggie's cheeks, her eyes bright and regardful of him. He bowed over her and kissed her deeply, moaning as she drew her nails across his back. She unconsciously wriggled her hips toward him, and David pulled her close, lifting her up as she helped guide the tip of his cock to her slit. David savored the feeling of her warmth surrounding him, and Maggie's heart fluttered at how close he was.

David slid slowly, snugly into her, wanting her to feel all of him as he pushed forward.

Maggie opened to him, throwing one leg around his waist as she drew him in deeper, closer to her. She bit her lip as he pulled back, then penetrated her again, his unhurried movements almost too much for her, his rhythm painfully measured. She was overwhelmed. For the first time ever, she desired someone to the point that she worried she might faint.

The care he'd taken in his movement could not and did not last long. He bit her as he kissed her and drove himself into her in one quick, frantic plunge. Maggie struggled to match his passion, to keep hold of him, both their skin too slick with their intermingled sweat to grasp. The sound of David's breaths, ragged and desperate, gave Maggie the impression that something somewhere in him had come undone, gone wild. She couldn't remember a time she'd seen such lust in Rafael's eyes for her, let alone a time when she felt her own hunger could rival a lust so potent.

David's kiss was searing against her sensitive mouth, and it left her gasping. She watched him pull away, his eyes locking on hers as she felt herself tense up. Something gave way inside her, her pleasure flowing molten through her as she came. David saw her eyelids go heavy, watched the quivering lip, heard the softest moan, and this was more than he needed to follow her. He sank himself into her as he came, moaning into her kiss as she nipped the corners of his lips and met his final thrust with her own.

The two lay together in the cocoon of a hushed quiet, Maggie's back pressed warmly against his chest. He listened to her, watched her. The soothing rhythm of her breath coupled with her heartbeat. The soft sighs. A glow about her, the firelight making gold flecks of her sweat. Her blonde hair knotted in his fist as he kissed her spine.

Maggie turned toward him and studied him. What had taken her so long? Why all the fuss, the struggle against this? Why had she ever chosen Rafael, when this could have been hers? When this was so obviously her future?

"I'm glad I'm with you," she whispered.

"You're glad?" he teased. "You're not the only one."

"You don't already have a valentine, do you?"

"Oh. She'll be mad." David watched as Maggie grinned, then saw something darken in her expression.

"Can I be serious with you? I want to tell you something, something that's a long time coming, that I've never been able to say."

"Of course."

"I think I love you. And I think I have for a long time. It's bigger than anything I've known before, and I've been terrified. But the choice was so obvious, so easy. And it would have been obvious to anyone else. I just wasn't ready." Maggie stopped to compose herself, to breathe, and David studied her, bed-headed and patient, his eyes just a little moist and bright with a longing deeper than lust. "There's a certain comfort in staying with someone who doesn't see you. You get to stay hidden, you get to keep your secrets. And I realize I haven't shared much with you yet, but you've known how I felt all along, even when I didn't. I want to know you just as much as you want to know me."

"And I think you already know what I'm about to say," David murmured, looking at her so intently that she trembled, "but it's only fair that I tell you I love you, too."

The couple stayed silent after that, hands lazily exploring, discovering each other, until they both began to doze.

Maggie woke late in the night to find David facing her, watching her. She sighed and shrugged.

"Rafael wouldn't have made a very good husband anyway," she teased.

"I knew all along it was me you should be marrying," David deadpanned, suddenly cocky as the weight of the night's events had finally sunk in. "I've been practicing, and I think I'll make a perfect husband for you. But it's late, so you'll have to settle on having me as your valentine. At least for tonight."