Misc. Erotica Love Lessons (short story) (Completed)

[The_Writer]

Tanya paced the hall for five minutes before working up the courage to knock on his door. She couldn’t believe what a coward she was being. After all, they had already…

She halted her train of thoughts before it could go any farther—if she thought about that night, she’d crumble on the floor and the dustman would have to clean up the pieces of her tomorrow morning.

Taking a deep slow breath, Tanya strode to his door, reminded herself he was the one who’d called and asked her to stop by, and knocked. In the fifteen seconds between the knock and the door opening, Tanya had the time to live, die, and straighten her little navy dress that she had chosen because he had once complimented her on it.

The door opened and Tanya gave him a nervous smile.

“Hiya,” she said, feeling like an idiot.

“If I let you in, will you promise not to ravish me again?”

Blushing, Tanya rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. She looked at him waiting in the doorway to his flat. Wearing jeans and a black t-shirt—she had never seen him in anything but a suit and tie before—and grinning a little devilishly at her, her teacher Mr. David was without a doubt the most attractive man she had ever seen in her life.

“No promises,” she said and found herself feeling suddenly at ease with him. At least he was comfortable enough to joke about that night. “I can’t be trusted.”

“Well, you are YOU  after all. Can’t let you near my books. You’ll steal all the consonants and use them all in one bloody town name.”

Tanya laughed in rueful agreement. She had grown up near a town of which she never ever could pronounce the name… And whatever was the name; it indeed was long and weird. Such was the name that she once even took a magnifying glass to find the vowel in that mess of consonants.

“Heard a rumor you were a scouser, Professor David. Can’t let you near the silverware.”

As soon as he heard her saying his name, he immediately stood straight, gave her a half smile and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Umm… Well, I do think it’s probably safe for you to drop the word ‘Professor’ at this point, Tanya,” he said and all the joking disappeared from his tone. Not cold or angry…he just seemed very much in charge.

“Alright…So, umm… David?” she said, not sure if David was what he wanted to be called.

“Dave or David. But no Professor unless we’re in a study room.”

At this, both laughed a little… heartily.

Tanya looked around the hallway… becoming a bit serious, sarcastically she said,

“Are you going to let me in? If not, I’ll just go fetch a chair to set  myself in the hallway.”

David realized his mistake,

“Oh ya.. Am sorry. Come in. But I’ll be watching you, girl” he said and narrowed his bright blue eyes at her. “I expect to still have all my consonants tomorrow morning.”

“Nid yw eich llyfrau rwyf eisiau,” she said.

“Not fair. Other than Hindi and English; I do know French and some Spanish. And Hebrew, of course. And enough Yiddish to get myself in trouble. So keep the words to yourself.  Hahaha.”     He teased as she followed him into his flat.

“Hebrew. Really?” she asked. David is no doubt a great teacher… professor; but to be honest she had expected the French and Spanish. But Hebrew ?!!  That was a surprise.

“Well, I keep myself educated and well informed.”   David proudly said and bent a bit forward in a gesture to bow down to Tanya.

Tanya laughed. David certainly didn’t seem devout about anything other than literature.

“Oh yeah! A very knowledgeable Professor… I wouldn’t have guessed that. Haha!” she said, not at all bothered, just surprised. There was so much she didn’t know about David.

“You didn’t notice?”  He looked at her and winked. Suddenly his implication became clear and Tanya felt herself turning scarlet red.

“I didn’t actually look,” she protested. And even if she had, she wasn’t sure what to look for. Until last Friday night, not only had she been a virgin, she‘d never even had a boyfriend. At college she was the quiet girl who went to the library to write instead of  having lunch with friends. Indeed, she had a few kisses, a few brushes with boys, but the one or two blokes who’d approached her seemed so young compared to her. But now she was the one who felt like a gauche teenager in the presence of this handsome, older guy... Older to her, at least.

“I don’t blame you. Not one of the more attractive body parts God invented.”

‘Every part of you is beautiful dear David.’ Tanya thought, glancing around his flat and hoping talk of body parts was over for the moment.

His flat, like the conversation, wasn’t quite what she expected. His office at college was cramped and cluttered with books and more books but contained nothing personal. But his flat had…taste. He had leather furniture and a lovely dark rug covered the floors. There was little to no overhead lighting…just lamps everywhere. The light in the small kitchen was on and she could see a wine rack and glasses hanging from underneath the cabinet. David headed to the kitchen leaving her standing in the middle of his well-appointed living room.

Something about the place bothered her.

But she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Then she realized that it looked nothing like the flats of any of her friends. Their flats were cluttered with a mish-mash of found furniture with bicycles in the foyer and dirty dishes everywhere. David’s flat was so…adult! At that moment standing in his flat…that was the first time she felt their twelve-year age difference. In his office Friday night they’d been lovers—one man, one woman, two bodies coming together. Now she felt like a girl again and he was very much a grown man.

“Wine?” he called from the kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

“Do you prefer red or white? I think I may have a blush in the fridge. Merlot or chardonnay?”

‘Red or white or blush…Merlot or Chardonnay…?’  She’d had wine before at a wedding or two. But she didn’t remember what kind it was. Neither of her parents were wine drinkers really. They may have honeymooned in some fancy foreign dream destination; but they hadn’t picked up any wine habits.

“Oh, surprise me.” she said, trying to sound carefree when really she just didn’t want to make an arse of herself by picking the wrong thing.

David came out of the kitchen carrying two glasses of wine—one a pale yellow, one a blood red.

“Take the Chardonnay,” he said. “It’s very good.”

She reached out and took the red wine. David looked at her for a moment before smiling.

“The yellow one’s the Chardonnay, isn’t it?” she asked, feeling foolish.

“Actually, yes. And it’s a white, not a yellow.”

Tanya took a shaky breath. Her eagerness, excitement and stupidity was making her embarrassed; every now and then..

“I have to leave now. I’ll see you later.. next week perhaps…or five to ten years from now.”

It was like a sudden jolt to David. He really didn’t expect this from his fan-girl. He rushed towards her,

“Tanya, stop. Please Sit..”

Reluctantly Tanya kept the glass of wine down on the coffee table in front of the sofa and sat gingerly down. David sat next to her a few inches away. She pulled the  hem of her dress down over her knees and flattened it against her thighs.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Completely comfortable. Why do you ask?”

It’s clear that Tanya felt bad about something but she wouldn’t say it. The look on her face and her trembling lips clearly suggested David that she wants his full attention. She wants his closeness. Obviously, she ain’t going to say about it but certainly wants it… wants badly.

Understanding the situation, David couldn’t help himself and he started laughing. He laughed as a stupid boy.

It was such a wonderful sound.. that laugh…Tanya watched him, watched the way the corners of his eyes crinkled a little and his whole face came alive. She decided then and there, that she wanted to spend the rest of her life making him laugh like that.

“Sorry… Am sorry for this. No reason at all.”  He leaned back into the sofa and crossed his ankle over his knee.

Tanya wondered if David knew that he was possibly the most handsome man on the planet. She’d always wondered that—do beautiful people realize they’re beautiful or do they only see flaws? When she looked in the mirror she saw nothing but flaws—ridiculous shoulder length black hair, a blushy face and body covered in freckles. Freckles…of all things. Thighs as white as milk, Knees as sharp as knives, small round breasts with perky nipples and bloody freckles. Even when she would turned eighty one day; she’d still have those ridiculous freckles.

But David… He was an art. No, he was a poetry. She knew he played squash and tennis with a few of the other younger professors. She could see the sinewy veins in his forearms and part of her wanted to kiss them from wrist to elbow. In his fitted t-shirt she could see how broad his shoulders were. His face…she could see it even with her eyes closed…it was imprinted on her mind like the outline of a warm hand pressed to a winter window–masculine jaw line, strong nose and chin, and eyes that burned as if the hottest part of a flame.




(To be continued..)