Izabella

Did he have to be so damn charming? Seriously. The plan, which had been the plan from the very beginning, was to hit on the professor, gain his trust, steal the artifact and let him take the fall for it.

Observing people and places was one of my favorite past times. The professor was taller than me, on the verge of lanky, with black hair and a full beard. His eyes were a dark hazel that seemed mercurial in some ways, depending on if he was outside or indoors. He rarely went anywhere other than his home, his office, or his classroom. He walked a lot. He talked a lot. But he didn’t do much of anything overly exciting. Or at least it seemed like that. Could anyone be that charming and that boring all at the same time?

As I sat in his classes under other guises, sometimes stealing his other student’s faces when they were absent. I was charmed by him. It was no wonder that his classes were popular. It frustrated me to no end that I hadn’t found an in yet until one night it somewhat presented itself when a fellow professor took him speed dating.

In a marvelous move by the organizers, the speed dating set up allowed the attendee to choose an area suited to their sexual preference. My charming, but boring, professor was posted up in an omnisexual section. Either he was there for the conversation, or he was seriously looking. Either way, I’d find out soon enough.

In his apartment, Professor William “Bill” Tennesson proved to be smart, witty, and mystifyingly, undeniably, sexy. I managed to forget myself when he reached out to kiss my hand, and the barest moisture from his lips stung. I’d have a mark there for a few days. Likely after tonight, I’d have several hundred marks to show for it.

There were advantages to what I am. A distinct disadvantage came into play when my skin came into contact with different forms of water. Sweat, saliva, bodily fluids were all problems I could manage, though they did leave a mark. As long as it didn’t rain or snow, I was fine.

“I’m, uh, a bit out of practice,” Bill said.

“Oh, no need to worry, I think you’ll figure it out. It’s like riding a bicycle.”

“I suppose that analogy makes sense, though I’m not sure who the bicycle is in this scenario.”

“You, for now.” I pushed him back on his bed while I was kissing him. He wasn’t as out of practice as he thought. His kisses stung slightly and tasted fiery. I liked the feel of heat in my mouth and how his hands moved across my clothed body.

Bill felt more than ready when I slid my hand between us. I undid his belt and opened his pants. He didn’t protest when I stopped him as he tried to take off his shirt. Nor did he protest when I didn’t remove my dress. He busied himself with kissing me instead.

He paused a moment and asked a simple question. “Protection?”

“Female condom.”

He looked surprised and pleased all at the same time. I planned for eventualities. There was nothing wrong with being prepared.

As I straddled him and let him press up inside me, and I let my body adjust to him. Being a semi-displaceable fluid entity made it easy for me to mold myself to his shape and even apply a certain amount of pressure. His face was worth it as his eyes fluttered. My adorable, charming professor was lost in that moment as I watched. I moved, and he stopped me again.

“Wait. Oh, by all the realms of hell, please, please wait. I don’t want to spend myself in thirty seconds.”

“It’s really been that long?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“I was serious about seeing the morning light. I don’t have to leave if you don’t want me to.”

“You would stay for breakfast?”

“I’ll stay until breakfast. But you have to make it worth my while.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

The first time was quick. When he came, he dropped his forehead to my chest and I brought a hand up to play with his hair. He gave a soft groan in response. I was amused by the sounds he made until he looked up at me with something in his eyes that drew me to him and scared me at the same time.

He recovered quickly, and I found that he was not boasting. It was as if a dam broke. I don’t recall ever spending an evening being that satisfied or feeling more like melted candle wax that would harden only to melt over and over again.