Fine, Marnie thinks. How will this work?
You'll see, the demon promises.
Marnie's professor has just begun with some pleasantries. He stops abruptly, his expression becoming confused, as if he has lost his train of thought. He sits. "What was I saying?"
"The budget—" Marnie found herself saying, "and something about there being problems?"
"Oh, yes. There's a problem with your travel funds request." He glances at the spreadsheet then down at his hands, which have started to play with a pen.
"What do you mean? I thought we planned for this at the beginning."
"We did, but since then the department had to re-evaluate things, and our budget had to take a hit. All of the grant money is still there, but when you factor in our other costs, I don't think there's much left for travel."
Marnie allows her lips to pout slightly. A warmth is spreading through her body, centred in her abdomen. She draws herself up, straightening her back and thrusting her chest outwards—imperceptible, except to the subconscious mind of the heterosexual male. Absently, she fiddles with the left strap of her tank top, exposing the bra strap underneath as she draws it past her shoulder blade to scratch a non-existent itch.
"Surely there's something we can do," Marnie says. "I just need to make this trip, Professor."
"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Chris, Marnie?"
Marnie stands. "Maybe a few more times." She leans forward across his desk. "Come on, Professor. Surely there's something we can do."
"M-Marnie—I—are you all right?"
"Not really. But if I let you help me out with that, maybe in return, we could make sure I have those travel funds." Marnie's hands inch across the desk.
Now Chris bolts from his chair. "Marnie, this isn't funny. You're making me very uncomfortable right now…."
"Mmm, I bet I am," Marnie says, directing her gaze down to his groin. "I bet I have for a long time, huh?"
"I don't know what you mean—I've never—"
"You can cut the crap, Professor." And Marnie pulls off her tank top in one, smooth motion, exposing the bra beneath. Though she lacks the bountiful chest one would expect from the porno version of this scene, the bra does more than enough to push up her tits and whet her professor's appetite. "I know you're not married. Even if you have a girlfriend, I doubt she's as sweet and young as me."
Chris visibly swallows. Whether it's Uhazral's influence or his own, natural but suppressed, desire for his grad student, he seems to slowly be coming around to the idea. He no longer looks like he is prepared to storm out of the office. Instead, as he runs a hand through his hair and looks around at the cluttered room, he says, "Lock the door."
The lock clicks as Marnie complies. In the moments it takes her to turn, Chris moves around the desk and his behind her. He pushes her against the door—lightly, so as not to hurt her or make a disconcerting noise for passers-by.
Marnie feels his hands moving up her bare back. "Mmm, I like it when a man is ready to take charge," she says. As one of his hands strokes her hips, her waist, her navel, the other deftly unhooks her bra. She spins around as it slides down her arms, then tosses it onto a chair and allows her professor a moment to gawk at her chest.
Chris decides to do more than spectate, however: he takes both breasts in his hands. As his thumbs brush against her hard nipples, Marnie lets out a satisfied moan. Still fondling her with one hand, Chris grabs her ass and pulls her close against him, pressing his lips to hers. The kiss is brief, ending with the two of them looking each other in the eye. "You're right," he says. "I've wanted you for a long time. Screw the policy."
"No," Marnie smiles wickedly. "Screw me, silly."
Comments