The Professor’s New Office

Quinlan

I’m impressed with the progress of the trade building at Rainbow Dorset University. By the middle of August, the workshops for the first trades we’re introducing in the school’s new program are complete and machinery is being loaded in. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen so many new tools that it’s almost a wet dream.

Then again, there’s something to be said about well worn, familiar tools as well.

Although I’m not bringing over everything that I’ve come to know and love from Longwood, I do like much of their setup. I don’t want the school to charge extra money for these courses—that’s likely to discourage students from taking the courses. That means we need to find a different means to feed additional money into the program.

While I’ve been part of the hiring process for the instructors, I’ve been concentrating on what they can bring to the department. Not only as instructors, but also how they’ll be helpful in building secondary and tertiary income streams via their skills, knowhow, and experience. I’ve also been asking a lot about what they feel they specialize in.

Today was one of the first meetings with the deans of the college where I proposed to them a few different ideas. The one they really seemed to like the best was an open market a few times a year that encompasses the entire school and what the students are learning.

Not only will there be exhibits and items for sale from the trade department but also from the culinary majors, art majors, the sports teams could put together exclusive fan jerseys and merchandise for sale, and so on. I didn’t have ideas for every department. That’s not my kind of creativity. I don’t know enough about every career to do that.

But I thought by offering this open market, we could earn money for all our departments, but also encourage the community and people in surrounding areas to check out what we have to offer. Visit the campus. Learn about the school and the extracurriculars, the students and the staff.

If we do it right and prove that we have some talent here, we’ll create a demand for the items that we sell (making them exclusive for these events only). There is the potential to make a big name for ourselves. Not just in the higher education field and the community, but as an event that people from all over want to attend.

I won’t lie; I’m riding pretty high about the executive team’s enthusiasm over this idea by the time I head back towards the building. I spend some time in the workshops, making sure everything is ready for next week. Then check in with the new staff to assure them they have support and see if they have any questions.

Also, I made sure that the department has the means for at least a handful of work-study positions. When I brought it up, they looked at me like I was being dense. “Well, of course. As long as you have work for them, you can have as many as you want.”

Imagine that.

By the time I get back to my office, I’m happy and tired. I can’t wait to pull out my phone and text Simon. Check in and see how he’s doing. Tell him how my idea was received.

Simon’s been living with me full time since that afternoon in June when he burst into my apartment crying. I felt so helpless that all I could do was hold him. There weren’t any words to fix what had finally snapped in him, making him unable to tolerate being around the men he loved. I was so sure I could even feel the frayed edges where the twins had once been attached.

He was in pieces, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

Since then, he’s calmed down. He’s not anywhere near the happy, somewhat carefree man I first approached with my idea of a relationship contract. He’s incredibly sad and a little lost.

But he’s also nowhere near as stressed and miserable as he had been.

He’s not been back to the condo since he left. Simon went so far as buying everything new so he didn’t have to step foot inside it. Even when I offered to go for him, he said he’d rather just buy it all again.

The toiletries and stuff were easy, but when it came to clothes, I realized that he never picked out his own. He had no idea what size he wore or what he even liked. It didn’t take me long to see his stress build again, so I took over and gave him options based on what I’d seen him wear.

That’s where he’s at.

Thankfully, July first saw the beginning of his job and that’s done incredible things for his state of mind. Especially when he received his first paycheck. The smile on his face just melted everything inside me.

Living with him full time might have been a little sooner than either of us planned, but it’s been almost natural. There have been no growing pains, no arguments, no quirks or habits that I find I don’t like. Honestly, I’m so fucking in love with him, I don’t think he could do anything that would make me think he’s anything other than perfect. Every single day, I fall in love a little more.

Our only hurdle is during the night. He definitely doesn’t sleep well. I keep trying to figure out if it’s the fact that he needs two bodies, one on either side of him, to feel secure and settled enough to sleep soundly. Or if it’s the twins themselves. The verdict is still out, though I’m not sure what I’d do with either of those answers.

I open my office door and stop. Simon is kneeling on the floor, his hands on his thighs, and looking up at me with pretty eyes and his normal flirty smile.

My heart races. My dick calls all the blood in my body for itself.

Stepping inside, I quickly close and lock the door behind me. “Sweet sugar baby,” I murmur as I crouch down in front of him. His smile widens a little. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”

Simon shrugs. “I hit forty hours at nine this morning. So I decided to take the afternoon off. And… how was your meeting?”

I cup his face and kiss him. He sighs into my mouth. “It was amazing. They love my ideas and are thrilled to move forward with it.”

He grins. “I knew they would be. You were always the best instructor at Longwood.”

Rolling my eyes, I pull him to his feet and wrap him in my arms. “Oh yeah? Did you think that before I got you in a dark corner in the club?”

I can feel him grinning as Simon rubs his face into my neck. I swear, he’s a cat. “Hmm… I don’t know. You were always a good teacher, and I looked forward to your class. I feel like that means I did.”

Sighing, I hug him tightly. There’s a part of me that can’t believe that this man is here. He’s mine. I have the man of my fucking fantasies. Literally.

“How about you?” I ask. “How’s work?”

He nods a little. “It’s good. I’m still learning the store. I feel like once I have a grip on that and how the owners want it run, I can test the water with some improvement ideas. Some engagement with our customers. How to draw more attention to us within the community. And, maybe more importantly, get some employees who aren’t dead inside. How can these people work in a bookstore and be soulless? I swear, they have no personalities.”

I laugh, running my fingers down his spine. That was his first observation when he started last month. It’s become a running joke for him, but I can feel his frustration, too.

“I’m sure you’ll inject them with some exuberance,” I say.

He snorts, pulling his head back to look at me. “You haven’t met them. It’s going to take an act of the gods to make them look anything other than bored.”

I brush my thumb over his bottom lip. It’s soft. Perfectly shaped to his lean face.

“So… I thought we could celebrate,” he says, and I meet his eyes.

“What are we celebrating?”

He grins, gently biting my thumb between his teeth. My dick jumps in excitement. “That the deans liked your ideas.”

“You didn’t know that they would.”

Simon rolls his eyes. “Of course, I did. All of your ideas were amazing.”

Chuckling, I kiss him. Tasting everything that is Simon. “All right,” I say into his mouth between kisses. “What do you have in mind?”

I’m disappointed when he pulls his mouth from me, but he drops back down to his knees and looks up at me with a smirk. “Choke me,” he says. Fuck, the tenor of his voice has me nearly coming in my pants.

I groan and then glance at the door. The thought that I could get fired should really be more prominent in my mind, but with Simon on his knees in front of me? I’m not sure I’d care if the building was crumbling around us.

Managing a nod, he reaches up and undoes my pants, letting them fall to just above my knees. His hand over my dick with my underwear separating our skin has me clenching my jaw to try to keep my excitement in.

Everything we do is amazing. It means all the more because I know Simon doesn’t get excited in the same way. Still, I try to let him initiate all of our sexual encounters. There’s only been a couple times that I did and thankfully, he’s been receptive. Not that I’d have been upset if he wasn’t. I can take care of it on my own.

He loves touch. All touch. Every little brush of my finger across his skin. Even understanding his needs and sexuality as well as he does now, I know he still struggles. I think he gets frustrated with himself when he doesn’t physically respond to me when he wants to. Or when he thinks I want him to.

It’s been my goal to make sure he understands I don’t need him to be any particular way. I love him so fucking much, just the way he is. I don’t want him to change. Not for me. Not for anyone. And sure as fuck not like that.

There’s something almost sweeter and more satisfying about being with Simon as opposed to anyone before him. Because it’s intimacy he takes from our sex life more than anything. He’s only ever turned to me for that, and I can’t even begin to describe the high that gives me. Knowing that his body is mine. Knowing that any time he wants anything at all, I’m who he comes to. I’m who he asks to hurt him. To choke him. To hold him after, while I let him float around in subspace.

“No one will bother us in here, right?” he asks.

I nod. “It’s locked.”

He nods and sits back for a second. His cheeks are tinged red as he pulls his shirt over his head and my eyes are glued to his chest. He’s wearing a harness that Vulcan bought me years ago as a gag gift for Christmas. It’s light pink with white crystals in it. I didn’t think my dick could get harder.

But then Simon stands and shoves his pants down. I grab the base of my cock when I see him wearing a white jockstrap.

“Jesus,” I mutter, staring at the shape of him. The way it cups his dick and his balls as if they’re in a little hammock. “Simon.” My eyes trail back up his body, looking at the way the harness really emphases his chest and the thin, flat planes of his stomach. The shape of his biceps.

He smiles again and gets back to his knees, pulling my underwear with him. He leaves them at mid-thigh and then places his hands back on his thighs to look up at me.

“Are you familiar with the term ‘submissive’?” I ask.

His smirk makes my chest heat up. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “If you’re asking because you think I am, I think you’re probably right. But I’m going to end up a brat if you try to make me obedient. Or try to punish me.”

I touch his face. “Sugar baby, you already do everything I tell you to without question.”

“Because I want to.”

Smiling, I lean down to place a kiss on his lips. “Exactly. That’s what a submissive wants. To obey their Dom.”

His eyes narrow. “Just shove your dick in my throat, Professor. Make me choke on your seed.”

Chuckling, I stand back up. I know that he’ll put his hands on my thighs eventually, just to steady himself. Otherwise, I’m in complete control of him. That’s how he likes it. This fucking man has no idea all the things he is.

But I won’t push it. I’ve never truly considered myself a Dom or into that lifestyle. I won’t deny that when he does something like this I get so fucking hard I’m sure I can punch a hole through a brick wall with my dick.

I rub the head of my cock over his lips, spreading the beaded pre-cum over them like gloss. “Open your pretty mouth,” I say, voice low and husky.

Simon grins and does what I tell him to. There’s no way this is going to last longer than a couple minutes. Not with him dressed like this. Fuck.

I play with his tongue for a second before I grip his hair and push to the back of his throat. He grunts. Pulling out, I give him a second to take a breath. His eyes meet mine and I move back in. This time I don’t stop shoving into him until his nose meets my pelvis and he groans around me.

“I love you,” I say through pants, my other hand going to the back of his neck as I pull out a few inches before thrusting back into him. “I love you so fucking much, Simon. You’re everything.”

This time, it’s me babbling as I fuck his throat in hard, deep thrusts. Tears stain his face. I can feel his spit running down my balls. He trembles with his lack of oxygen.

But fuck’s sake, he’s kept his hands in his lap, splayed flat across his bare legs.

“So perfect,” I grunt as I shove deep. “Swallow, sugar baby. Suck me like a fucking lollipop.”

He does, even though he’s wiggling for me to release him so he can breathe. He’s making sounds now. Sounds of struggle. But I keep him there as I unload and he begins to choke.

“Yes. Choke.”

When I finally let him go, I nearly fall over from the euphoria. My collapse to the ground is not as graceful as it should have been. Simon gasps as he regains his ability to breathe. I cup his face against my chest and smooth my fingers through his hair until he’s trying to purr like a cat.

“You okay?” I ask after a few minutes when he’s still limp in my arms but chest heaving.

“Yep,” he says, turning his face into me. “I love you, too, Quin. I want this forever.”

I shiver and settle my bare ass on the ground, pulling him into my lap so I can hug him tightly. “Forever,” I promise. “However that looks, we’ll keep this forever.”