Chapter 4
Amy didn't tell Georgia and Emily what had happened on the bus. How could she, when she barely believed it herself? It all seemed like a mad dream. Like one of the fantasies she so often had about Dr. Mitchell. But there was no escaping what she had done. Amy spent Saturday wallowing in her hangover and shame. Despite the attempts of her friends to drag her out of bed she simply couldn't face the outside world: if she stayed in her cocoon of blankets then maybe she wouldn't have to deal with the consequences.
Amy dreaded Monday. There would be no escaping Dr. Mitchell then as she had a 9am lecture with him. Amy thought of a thousand excuses to miss the class: perhaps she should join the Peace Corps and live out her days digging trenches in the Pacific... but in the back of her mind she knew she had to face him sooner or later. If Amy failed the class the university would cut off her scholarship and she would be screwed.
A mischievous thought kept creeping into her mind: there was a chance, ok a tiny tiny chance, that the professor might want her. Maybe he enjoyed their ride as much as she did...
"Wake up, lazy!" Emily shouted as she burst through the door, "You've been in bed playing with yourself all day, we're going out." Georgia followed her in with a bottle of prosecco and the pair jumped on to Amy's bed.
"Oh I don't think I fancy it..." Amy half-heartedly replied. But Georgia was already pouring the prosecco.
"Rubbish. This is the first weekend we haven't had work. And it is about time you got a rebound fuck." Amy couldn't tell Emily how close she had already come.
Before Amy could prepare any more excuses she was being pulled out of bed and plied with alcohol. Next thing Amy knew they were tottering down the backstreets of Chelsea to their favourite cocktail bar; a quirky little speakeasy. Amy and Emily found a corner booth while Georgia went to the bar to get drinks.
"So, how was your ride on the bus last night?" Emily asked with an impish smile.
Amy blushed. "I still haven't forgiven you for that!"
"Oh please girl, I did you a favour! Don't think I couldn't see your flushed cheeks when we got home, I'm guessing you got more than your money's worth."
Amy paused. God, she wanted to talk about it so much. Maybe if she said it out loud it would feel real. Emily could see from Amy's hesitation that something was on her mind and looked at her curiously. Amy was on the cusp of saying something when Georgia returned with jam jars filled with neon liquid and exotic fruit.
"You won't fucking believe it, he's here again!" Georgia blurted.
"Who?" Emily asked, but Amy had already guessed and the colour drained from her face before Georgia had replied.
"Only the hottest professor in London," Georgia smiled wickedly, "he must have enjoyed his ride last night."
"Shut up you idiot, he is going to think we are following him! Hide me!" Amy hissed, but part of her was excited.
Fate was not on Amy's side - at that moment the professor walked by with a tray of drinks. "Hi Dr. Mitchell!" Emily chimed. The professor stopped and greeted the girls. Amy felt like he was staring at her for minutes. Was it all in her head, or did he just smile at her a little more broadly than the others? Amy was so flustered she barely managed to say hello before he was gone.
"See, that wasn't so bad." Emily said with a patronizing pat on Amy's head.
As the night went on the bar filled up. One of the things the girls loved about this bar was the fancy dress boxes that everyone dressed up in, enabling them to disguise themselves and dance with abandon. Soon the dance floor was bustling with people in Venetian masks, fake glasses, and ridiculous hats. But Amy couldn't get the professor off her mind and kept finding herself staring at him and recalling the sensation of his hard dick rubbing against her clit. Amy fantasized about how it would have felt without her jeans and his trousers between them: the heat of his huge erection engulfed between her lips...it must have been 7 or 8 inches at least.
"Come on, dozy. Let's dance," Emily snapped Amy out of her fantasizing with a slap to her bare leg "I've just seen Kevin up there and I am taking him home tonight."
Georgia was distracted by the dress up box at her feet and pulled out three masks with a flourish.
"Ughh do we have to?" Emily groaned.
"Yes we do, get involved! Besides, you'll still be able to shove your tongue down Kevin's throat with it on." Georgia's mind was set and she passed the masks out. Amy put on a glittering Venetian mask and made her way to the dance floor, keenly aware of the professor's gaze.
Amy was able to forget about Dr. Mitchell while she danced. The girls swayed and grinded against each other, drawing quite an audience. But soon Emily had cornered her prey and was swishing her pert butt against Kevin's groin. Then Amy lost Georgia in the dark and crush of people: she thought she could see her making out with someone but it was hard to tell with the mask. Amy got on her tiptoes to try and get a better view but was knocked from behind and stumbled forward. Amy put her hand out to stop her fall and it landed on a familiar chest.
Amy shuddered; there was no way she would ever forget the tight muscles and coarse hair she had felt on the professor's chest the previous night. Amy looked up into a masked face, but in the flash of a light she caught only the glimmer of two green eyes beneath.
Amy's breath faltered and something came over her: a reckless abandon. Her open palm closed around the professor's shirt and she dragged him closer. As if in a trance Amy began to dance with him. With her arms above her head she swayed her hips. Her full, gorgeous tits brushed against the professor's chest making her nipples tighten and swell. Amy turned her back to the professor and began to gently rub her butt against the professor in time to the music. To her delight, she felt his hot breath against her neck and then his strong hands on her hips.
Dr. Mitchell's touch was enough to turn her on: he wanted her! And it felt like he was pulling her in, drawing her butt closer to his groin and the unmistakable swell in his trousers. Amy was so wet she could feel her thighs dampening as her pussy juice trickled down her legs. Her skirt was so short that she briefly worried people would see the glistening liquid, but fuck it, she wanted the professor to know what he did to her.
Amy placed her hands on his and moved them onto her tight stomach, then up, tantalizingly close to her breasts. Her hips thrust against him and his erection pressed between her arse cheeks. As Amy swayed against the professor she could feel it gently rub against her butthole making her weak at the knees. To her delight the professor's hands followed the curves of her body and finally across her breasts. Amy gasped with pleasure, her pussy desperate for his touch.
Then suddenly his body was gone. Amy spun round as the professor grabbed her hand and pulled her from the crowd. Dr. Mitchell led her out of a door to a quiet smoking area where he pinned her against the wall and ripped her mask off her face.
"We can't do this, Amy. It's wrong. I'm your teacher," Dr. Mitchell blurted, "Its an abuse of power."