The Sleepover

Tim went home with Rhian that first night after their encounter in her office. The night after, as well. Gone were her misgivings of their relationship. She was committed, and she trusted that he was as well.

And he was. In ways that he didn’t really understand, Tim felt close to Rhian, closer than he should having only been on one date. Maybe it was a sense of responsibility, of protectiveness. She had changed her opinions so quickly, Tim couldn’t help but feel responsible for who she was becoming. It was only right to do his best for her.

Her home was a two bedroom in an older part of town. No elevator was there to take a visitor to the third floor where she lived, only a broad staircase with rich wood panels on the walls and a matching wood banister, polished to a shine. The steps creaked as they climbed, while light from the skylight above highlighted the age and character of the building.

The arrived at the top floor and walked the worn carpet to a wooden door, hand-in-hand. Tim felt excitement buzzing in his brain. Rhian was inviting him into her inner sanctuary. Just days earlier he had never kissed a girl, now his favourite professor was taking him home with her!

On the floor by the door, Tim deposited his bags. The small suitcase filled with the outfits and essentials (makeup, sexy sleepwear) that he had packed when Rhian had driven him home after her actual office hours were complete. His backpack, too, filled with books for classes, as well as his notes that he had to review. He may have been turned into a playboy, but that didn’t mean he was willing to sacrifice his grades for sex.

No tour of the apartment was given. Tim’s welcome was a tongue in his mouth. Not that he minded. Nor did his penis. Very quickly his pink skirt began to show the tent of an erection, one of many he would get on the next couple days in Rhian’s apartment. She reached down and grabbed it through the fabric, softly pulling, causing Tim to moan.

And then she disengaged, panting, staring at Tim in the eyes.

“I don’t know why,” she said in a breathy voice, “I just can’t keep my hands off of you. You’re just so damn sexy.”

Tim blushed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Stop it,” she giggled like a schoolgirl. Then she picked up Tim’s suitcase.

“Let’s get you settled,” she walked toward what he assumed was her bedroom, “and I’ll order in. I’m hungry. Do you have a preference?”

“Italian?” He offered.

“I know a great place,” she agreed.

She put Tim’s bag on the bed, then rubbed her fingers on the cover. The room was tidy, and the queen-sized bed was the centrepiece. A small white dressed stood by the wall next to a closet door, and a window looked out onto a view of the next building over the alley.

“It’s been a long time since I had a man in here, you know,” she paused, then got a mischievous grin and began to rub her groin, “in here, too.”

The pair began to giggle, which escalated into peels of laughter. Tim steadied himself on his suitcase as he laughed, while Rhian flopped onto the bed. Soon the laughter stopped, though, leaving the couple staring at each other, eyes alight with joy, wondering where to go next. Then Rhian climbed out of the bed and gave Tim a gentle kiss.

“I’ll go order the food,” she said, “you get yourself set up.”

She gave him one more kiss, then left him alone in her bedroom.

As Tim slowly unzipped his bag, he realized that he had never been alone in a woman’s bedroom before, not one who thought of him like Rhian at least. As a child he had played in friend’s rooms of course, but as he aged into the age of sexual maturity, a girl’s room became forbidden geography. He could smell her, his professor, despite her not being there. He was standing in the room where she slept, where she dressed, where she dreamed.

Tim pulled his toiletries and makeup supplies from the bag, walking them to place atop Rhian’s dresser. Then he lifted the suitcase and put it on the floor under the window. It would be too assuming to take up space in her closet or drawers, so he would live out of the bag.

An urge came to him unbidden. There he was, in Doctor Rhian Morgan’s apartment, in her bedroom, and he had let her leave him alone and horny. He knew he didn’t need to suck up for grades, nor did he have to fight to earn her affection, but he felt something else. The urge he had felt that one morning when he found how his trade had made him flirty, it had returned. As he looked at the clothes he had packed, Tim knew that it was time to turn up the heat with his professor.