“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” —Anais Nin
“Bid my blood to run.” —From Evanescence’s “Bring Me to Life” (Fallen DVD)
Professors Maria Suarez and Vilasrao Bannerjee relaxed in the former’s office in the 1920’s townhouse that had been converted to accommodate the Philosophy Department. The former sat in her large high-backed swivel chair; her colleague sat in an ordinary college-issue chair. They sipped fine amontillado sherry as they did the last Friday of every month since Professor Bannerjee had joined the department three years previously.
“Why are you smiling?” Prof. Bannerjee asked.
“Oh,” Prof. Suarez, “I was thinking about when you hit on me the first time we drank sherry.”
“We drank alot, as I recall, more than our now customary glass.”
“We finished a whole bottle of that, what was it? Colosia?
“No…Del Duque.”
“Of course! I wondered if you’d be my duque.”
“Do you still?”
“What? No, not any more. Sex with Mark is certainly satisfying.”
“But?”
“But I’ve become resigned, I suppose, to his being an unimaginative and fairly straitlaced lover.”
Professor Bannerjee swirled his sherry. “You said as much then, except the ‘resigned’ part.
“And you thought you could tempt me into a lewd and thrilling fling.”
“Thrilling because it was lewd? “No,” he continued, “thrilling because it tapped into a deeper truth.”
“‘That the pleasure arising to man, from contact with sensible objects, is to be relinquished because accompanied by pain such is the reasonning of fools’,” she said, citing one of her colleague’s favorite texts.
“Be that pain psychic or physical,” he added, “And your ass is such a sensible object.”
“Ever the Carvakan, thank you,” she giggled, “No wonder you didn’t fit in at Bangalore.”
“Why are you bringing this up now?”
“I was propositioned today.”
“Really? Do tell.”
“One of the masters students asked me for a two-week extension on the outline for his thesis, on Cyrenaic epistemiology. Very cheeky he was, said he thought I might jump at the chance to ‘do something secret and naughty’.”
“Perceptive boy.”
Professor Suarez blushed.
“What did he have in mind?”
“That I take him in my mouth and suck him dry.”
“‘Secret and naughty’ indeed; very Cyrenaic. I think that if more people today would take to heart Aristippus’s idea that we should embrace and enjoy pleasure now, and not defer it in the hope of avoiding possible future pain, the world would be a much happier place.”
Prof. Suarez tipped her glass to her colleague.
“Did you at least think about taking him up on his offer?”
Prof. Suarez laughed. “Not my type, not my style.”
“What did you do?”
“Said that while Aristippus would be proud of him, what he proposed contravened college policy, told him that he was lucky that I didn’t shorten his deadline and sent him on his way.”
Prof. Bannerjee finished his sherry, rose, locked the door, pulled Prof. Suarez to her feet and embraced her. “Is a dark Indian your type?” He grabbed her ass and kissed her.
Before Prof. Suarez could think to object, she found herself opening her mouth to his tongue. She felt his hardness pressing into her groin; her own sex moistening. Her knees buckled. “Please, Vilasrao,” she moaned.
“‘Please stop’, Maria,” he mumbled, “or ‘Please take me’?”
She wrapped her tongue around his and ground against him.
Prof. Bannerjee released his colleague and gently turned her around. She bent forward over her desk as her friend hiked her skirt and pulled down her panties, which she stepped out of.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, caressing Prof. Suarez’s hips, pulling her blouse out of her skirt, and running his hands up her back. He unhitched her bra, as he kissed and licked the small of her back, before stepping back to pull down his sweatpants.
Prof. Suarez felt him squeeze her ass and slide his cock up-and-down between her cheeks until resting the tip against her anus.
Prof. Bannerjee leaned over her again, working his hands up to grip her breasts, even as he pressed his cock against her opening.
“Do you want to be bad and slutty?” he whispered, “Tell me!”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I want to be bad and slutty!”
She trembled as he released her breasts, stood up and massaged lubricant, which he had brought, around her hole, gradually working in one finger and then another.
“Do you want it in the ass, Maria? Is that your style?” He inserted the tip of his cockhead inside her. “Tell me!”
“Yes, Vilasrao! Please, I want it in the ass!”
Prof. Bannerjee stood up, grabbed her hips and pushed the head inside her.
She gasped at the novelty of being thus penetrated.
He pulled almost all the way out and thrust gently inside her.
Prof. Suarez grimaced at the pain as this man, her friend, so familiar and yet so strange, took this most intimate liberty with her, in a way that Mark never would. But as he drove himself into her, taking her in measured strokes, the pain was drowned in a wave of pleasure. She slipped a hand beneath her and lunged for her clit.
Prof. Bannerjee grabbed her hand.
“Vilasrao, please!”
He reached forward and furiously stroked her clit. Prof. Suarez put her hand on his, grunting and bucking as her orgasm broke; her motions tipped him over the edge. Prof. Bannerjee cried out, convulsing as spilled himself. She writhed in sheer delight as his cock pulsed, filling her, and ground his fingers into her clit, gulping for breath as a second orgasm roared through her. Gradually, they stopped moving. Prof. Bannerjee bent over, withdrew his hand from her sex and wrapped his arms around her, caressing her tummy. When he began to pull out, Prof. Suarez reached back to grab at his hip. “No, don’t,” she mumbled. He kissed her back. After a few minutes, when his cock had gone limp, her hand dropped and he withdrew.
Prof. Bannerjee retrieved a box of tissues from Prof. Suarez’s desk, offered it to her, cleaned himself and dressed.
Prof. Suarez stood up, cleaned herself, and eased herself into her chair, watching her colleague as he dressed. “Why now?”
“Up until now, I didn’t have the guts.”
“What about three years ago?”
“That was sherry talking.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Your masters student, he’s a TA for my Intro to Philosophy class. Maybe taking him in your mouth and sucking him dry was not your secret and naughty fantasy…” Prof. Bannerjee’s voice trailed off.
Prof. Suarez looked at him, stunned.
“Maria, life is too fucking short. I dunno, maybe the ancients had a point?” He smiled weakly.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He nodded and unlocked the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Well, I’ve just come from walking, so over to the faculty gym to shower.”
“Oh.”
“Want to join me?”
“But we could be seen.”
“There’s always a chance.”
For a moment, Prof. Suarez was silent.
“Maria?”
“I’ll get my coat.”
Author’s suggested resources for this story:
Aristippus
Carvaka & Carvakann philosophy
Cyrenaic philosophy
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