Happy Together

They spoke very little about school. What had been born in the premise of an exploration of Tim’s academic prospects had lost all pretence. It was exactly what the pair had hoped for, two people getting to know each other romantically, despite the difference in age and station.

Normally one of the greatest concerns that someone would have over a student dating a professor would be the power dynamic. But as they walked, as they unfolded the maps of their lives to see where they had been, to share where they hoped to be, Rhian realized that the power dynamic in their relationship was counterintuitive, and becoming more so by the minute. The more time she spent with Tim, the more began to naturally feel like obeying him, following his lead. Not just in direct commands like ‘hold this’ or ‘wait here’, but in the little things. Tim would ask her which way she wanted to walk, but Rhian could tell that he liked one way over the other, so she picked that one despite wanting to go the other way. Tim would smile as he looked at an ice cream cart, mentioning how a cone always made a day better, and Rhian immediately pulled out her wallet.

And every time she did it she felt it. A buzz, a dopamine reward for being obedient, for bending her will toward Tim’s. Each time it got easier than the last. If she kept it up, she realized, it would be quite simple to lose herself in him, to give up large swaths of her agency, just to be with him.

And he would be worth it. A strong, attractive, confident man like Tim didn’t come along every day. She’d never dated a man as short as he was before, but she wouldn’t change a thing. Besides, he had worn those amazing heels which more than compensated with the height difference. Sexy and considerate.

As they walked, not a thought was spared by Rhian toward the office hours she was missing. So enthralled was she with her date that her world seemed to grow smaller, more intimate. It was safe with him, enclosed in the bubble of each other, worries of every day unable to penetrate its shell.

And they kissed. Oh how Rhian had missed kissing. The neighbourhood they found themselves walking in was old, filled with iron wrought benches and empty lots being used as gardens. There were plenty of nooks and crannies for Rhian to pull Tim into, while she hungrily tasted his lipstick.

More than once, as she pressed her body against his, moaning as she thrust her tongue into his mouth, did she feel his penis in his skirt. It felt huge. Tim was piquing her curiosity, despite her rule to go slow at first, not become too intimate. She just had know. Was it as big as she thought? Was it beautiful? What did it taste like?

But she could wait. She would have to wait. To go any faster would make her far too slutty, right? She was a professor, for God’s sake! She couldn’t just be a slut for Tim. People would talk!

Although, if he would ask her to be her slut, would it be so bad if she gave in?

No. Stop. Rhian had already bent her rules enough to go this far with a student. She needed to hold onto her standards, her dignity. Yes, she absolutely wanted to feel Tim moving between her legs, but she could be patient. Tim could be patient.

She begged to God that Tim could be patient.

So hand-in-hand they strolled, like two lovers enjoying a reprieve from the business of the day, despite the fact that their affair was but a fledgling, too new to be much more than a flirtation, but felt like more. Much more. And as they spent time like loose change, Rhian’s imagination could not be held back from flights of fancy, paths ahead that held a future for the two of them in which they could they could be happy together.