Dr. Heath Olson looked older, of course, but hot damn, it’s the same man of Marissa’s misguided young fantasies. And he’s just as dashing now, standing in front of her, real as life and twice as gorgeous.
Christmas lights decorate the front picture windows of the cafe. Green, red, purple. Garland and tinsel hangs above the window frames. Seasonal music plays from the loud speakers. Everybody seems to be in a cheerful hustle, dressed in fuzzy sweaters and winter boots.
Marissa owes the Wenakaga Sun a news story on Heath. But fifteen years after she first met him, the heartache still stings.
Perhaps she owes herself something as well.
If you enjoy sexy student-teacher erotica with a holiday twist, be sure to read After All These Years.
The caramel latte was okay. Would’ve been better without the nutmeg, but it was the seasonal drink at Horney’s Coffee House. Marissa Thompson tried to make it last, sipping slowly.
Her interview appointment was late. And if he was who Marissa thought he was, then this was to be expected.
Christmas lights decorated the front picture windows of the cafe. Green, red, purple. Garland and tinsel hung above the window frames. Seasonal music played from the loud speakers—Bing Crosby, Nat King Cole, and more modern renditions of the carols. Everybody seemed to be in a cheerful hustle, dressed in fuzzy sweaters and winter boots.
Marissa opted for a low cut sweater, the green one with the loose three-quarter sleeves, and regretted her choice. She had to keep her woolen scarf on and tied around her neck in order to keep at least somewhat warm. Defeated the entire point of wearing a cute sweater that showed off her pushed up cleavage.
A draft came from the bottom of the window. She shivered and held her arms tight across her chest. She wore skinny jeans and black knee-high leather boots with two inch heels. Another glance in her compact told Marissa she had enough makeup on and her gold hoop earrings looked just fine.
She dropped the compact back in her purse, and got out her notepad and pen.
In the five years of working for the Wenakaga Sun newspaper, Marissa had never worried about her outfit while out interviewing for stories. Just never occurred to her, except to appear professional and courteous. Well, there was the period while working the sports desk, and Marissa got to interview the cute college football players. But they all stank like sweaty animals after games. And then the time covering the story on the local artists’ community. Ton of cute guys, covered in paint and wet plaster-of-Paris, but they seemed oblivious to Marissa’s flirting.
Marissa sighed, and checked her long curly black hair in the dark window. What was with her?
She tucked her curls behind one ear, and looked past herself. Snow fell in fat flakes that splattered against the sidewalk. The parking lot lamps cast a dim orange glow on the cars outside.
The other Horney’s patrons smiled at her kindly, as if to encourage her. As if she were on a date. Marissa tight-lip smiled back, and then reflexively tussled her hair. She really hoped it didn’t appear she was on a date. She imagined what she appeared like—nervous, anxious, not in control of her emotions.
Truth was, Marissa had a hard time pointing at what her emotions were.
Heartbroken? A little. Sick to her stomach with nervous energy? Certainly. Uncertain of what the next hour would hold?
Yeah, sounded like a first date.
Even though she had the advantage of at least knowing the guy from years back, and recently exchanging professional emails with him.
Marissa sipped from her coffee. Now it was bitter, sweet, and lukewarm. So much for saving some of it for the interview.
She just hoped Heath Olson would hurry up already.
He’d always been late, at least as long as Marissa knew him, which unfortunately hadn’t been for long. She’d been a freshman undergrad, with no life experience and curious about everything. Heath was a grad student and the teaching assistant for Marissa’s Psych 101 class.
The lecture hall might have been filled with a hundred students, most of them female by Marissa’s memory. But Heath always seemed to make eye contact with her. Maybe it’d been because she sat center in the first row.
But Marissa imagined his attention was something else. She daydreamed about Heath. His soft brown hair that seemed permanently shabby, reaching past his ears. Brown eyes, rough stubble on his chin, the way he rolled his shirt sleeves up while making a point.
For Marissa, his lectures were never boring. She never missed a class, and always stayed after with questions. Heath, in his soothing and relaxing voice, answered every one of them. And then he’d lightly tap her on the elbow and wish her a good day.
That’s the way it was.
Never once did he say or do anything inappropriate. Or even ask her out, like she dreamed of.
Nor did Marissa ever flirt with him. At least not in a way that got his attention.
“Miss Thompson?” said a familiar smooth, relaxing voice.
Marissa jolted. Damn near tipped her coffee cup over onto her lap. She fumbled with her notepad and pen, then laughed and tried saying hello. Didn’t work out so well.
Heath Olson looked the same. A little older—fuck it, fifteen years older—but still just as hot. More attractive, if that were possible. Instead of the stubble, he was clean shaved now. Glasses sat primly on his nose, obscuring those handsome eyes a little. His hair was shorter now, not as thick and brown as she remembered.
But, hot damn, it was the same man of Marissa’s misguided young fantasies. And he was just as dashing now, standing in front of her, real as life and twice as gorgeous.
Marissa couldn’t prove it, but he seemed bigger, more muscular all over. In the back of her mind, she wondered what it would take to prove it. To get him undressed.
She shook her head. And then smiled kindly, standing up, and offered her most professional handshake.
“Yes, call me Marissa,” she said. “Heath?”
“Yes,” he said. Heath held her hand a moment too long. He held eye contact, captivating her with his brown eyes.
Did he recognize her?
How could he? College was a long time ago, another lifetime, and he must’ve taught hundreds of freshmen girls.
The warm handshake ended. They sat down. Marissa sniffed her coffee and set it aside. She went through the motions of thanking him for meeting her. In a small way, she was thankful to just be this close to Heath again, after all these years of wondering what might’ve happened.
Three long-term boyfriends, one who proposed but never followed through. A house. Four major career changes. And more pet guinea pigs than she could name off the top of her head.
On the flip side… Marissa still wondered. If he noticed her. If he felt the same way. If a fire could be rekindled, even though the fire was less than a spark in reality.
“You okay?” Heath said.
“Huh? Yes,” said Marissa. “Sorry for being a bit spacey tonight.”
“No worries.” He leaned forward on his elbows. Then he pointed at her cup. “Maybe I can freshen your cup for you?”
Marissa giggled despite herself. “I’d appreciate that. And then we can do this interview.”
“Sure thing.” Heath stood, and leaned across her for the cup. He tapped her on the elbow before turning around.
She melted. As he walked away, Marissa realized she was holding her breath. And then she realized she was staring at his backside while he ordered a cup for himself, and a fresh brew for Marissa.
Heath came back before she was ready, and not a moment too soon.
“So,” he said. “I suppose you wanted to ask me questions.”
“That’s how this usually works,” Marissa said. Truth was, she wasn’t sure what to ask him anymore. The story, her assignment for the newspaper. He started up a community outreach program for mental health, and won several awards and grants for doing so.
“Not sure what you’d want to know,” Heath said.
“What do you mean?” she said.
“I’m just a community college professor with too much time on his hands,” he said. Heath rubbed his mouth, and then took a careful sip of coffee. “Look, sorry. I don’t seek recognition for what I do. I just do it.”
“And that makes you a good man,” she said.
Heath smiled, showing his laugh lines and a slight blush on his neck. He gazed at her, eyes narrowed. As if studying her. Marissa squirmed under his scrutiny. She smiled back, realizing how much she enjoyed him watching her. How much more she’d enjoy that gaze if she were naked.
Heath glanced away first, pretending to look at the garland and tinsel. “Sorry,” he said. “You just seem familiar. More than familiar, but I’m afraid if you’re not who I think you are. If that makes sense.”
“Who do you think I am?” Marissa’s heart hammered against her ribs.
“When I was a grad student, I taught Psych 101,” Heath said. “And there was a student, who sat in the front row of the lecture hall. She was gorgeous like you, but eighteen at the time and wet behind the ears.”
Marissa told him where she went to college. Heath’s face lit up like he’d just gotten the best Christmas present ever.
“I had hoped,” he said, and reached out and touched her hand. He let go almost as soon as he touched her. “But I wasn’t sure if it’d be you.”
“I never stopped dreaming about you,” Marissa said.
“And I never forgot you,” he said.
Marissa’s heart fluttered up her throat. She wasn’t sure whether to reach for his hand, kiss him, or take a sip of coffee. She did none of the above. Instead she waited with her hands folded in front of her.
Heath cleared his throat. “I couldn’t ask you out,” he said. “I wanted to. But I didn’t dare risk it.”
“I understand,” Marissa said. “Not so much at the time. But I do now.”
“Perhaps we can make up for lost time?” He smirked. “Unless you have someone…”
“No,” she said, smiling broadly. “Do you?”
“No,” he shook his head. “But hey, we’re already on a coffee date of sorts. Right?”
“I’ll take it,” Marissa raised her cup.
They clinked cups together. Outside, the snow kept falling.
* * *
Three hours later, Marissa and Heath were kicked out of the coffee shop by a tired barista. Out in the fluffy snow, the wind making her lips and cheeks pleasantly numb, Marissa kissed him. Just a quick peck on the cheek. Innocent. Mostly.
“I wish the night didn’t have to end,” she said.
“It doesn’t have to,” said Heath. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”
“What do you think I’m thinking?” She smacked him on the arm.
“That it’s too fucking cold to stand out here teasing each other.”
Marissa smiled. Her cheeks felt numb and warm. “Follow me home. I have hot chocolate.”
She got into her car, he got into his. Marissa couldn’t wait for the engine to properly heat up. Nor could she drive slow enough to be safe on the icy roads. And when she welcomed Heath into her front door, she was so excited that taking her boots off was a challenge.
She led him by the hand, icy cold fingers inter-locked with his, to the kitchen, where she put a kettle of milk onto the stove. Soon enough, the man of her dreams sat with Marissa in her living room. On her couch, right next to her. So close she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
She barely believed it. She had long considered her fantasies of Heath only that—wild fantasy, originally spun by a love-struck girl who should’ve known better.
And now, here he was. Marissa hadn’t even interviewed him for the newspaper story. Business was just going to have to wait. Over the course of the evening, she had learned so much about him, and shared so much of her life with him. It had been wonderful and magical. And Marissa felt it wasn’t over. Couldn’t be.
“Sorry,” she said. “I really wanted to write the story first thing tomorrow.”
“Write whatever story you need to,” Heath said. “Tonight is for us.”
He set aside both of their mugs, and then stroked her hair. Marissa closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. He had strong, rough fingers. Gentle, but forceful if a bit nervous. She didn’t blame him for being unsure.
But Marissa had waited fifteen years for this moment to happen.
She blew on her hands, to make sure they were warm, and then placed them on his face. Holding him.
And then she kissed him.
She meant it to be a short peck. A beginning, with no promise of anything else. But then it deepened. They locked lips, tagged each other with their tongues, and his body heat was too much for her.
Marissa pressed both hands against his chest. And then she slid onto his lap, straddling him. Heath used his gentle fingers and explored her body. Up her ribs. Across her back. Her shoulder blades. And then back down to her hips. She kissed him slow, savoring him for as long as possible.
It was everything she’d dreamed of. But she still wanted more.
He broke the kiss first. Panting, red in the face, but without the uncertainty. In place of uncertainty, was conviction. Conviction Marissa shared. She knew Heath wasn’t leaving her home without getting naked first. She felt it.
On a whim, Marissa slipped her sweater off. Before him, with so much skin exposed and lacy black bra nearly in his face, she felt both vulnerable and powerful. His fingers grazed up her stomach, loving and smooth. Heath cupped both breasts, squeezing for a moment before Marissa playfully shoved his hands away.
He gave her a devilish, irresistible grin. And then he reached around behind her.
Marissa expected him to unclasp her bra. Instead, Heath massaged her shoulders, and then slid her bra straps down. She tugged at his shirt, unbuttoning him as fast as her shaking hands allowed.
He had a smooth chest with wild hairs around the nipples. Marissa stroked his nipples and pinched them. Heath closed his eyes and leaned his head back. She massaged down his torso. Down his stomach, to the belt. She tugged, making him gasp and snap his eyes back open.
Heath stood and helped her with the rest. The button, the zipper, pulling his briefs down just enough for him to whip it out. He was long, well hung, with a bulbous head and half erect. A string of pre-cum stretched from his tip to the inside of his briefs. Marissa slid down between his legs, pulling his pants down further, breaking the string. Heath sat back down and raised his backside and Marissa helped him entirely out of them.
The room smelled pleasantly of him, an odor she realized she missed. Been too long, way too long, since she last had a mostly naked man in her life.
Marissa knelt closer. She stuck her tongue out and licked him down the shaft. He breathed slower, like he was meditating and found his center. Marissa took one ball into her mouth and tugged. Then did the same to the other. Heath moaned, playing with her hair. The sounds he made turned Marissa on even more.
She discovered something else she missed without realizing it—being cock hungry.
Marissa licked him up and down, savoring every sweet inch. The veins popping out, the salty skin, the prickly hair at the base. She had forgotten what it was like, taking a man into her mouth and watching him react. The “oh God” expression on his brow. The way Heath’s lips quivered while she toyed with him. How he flexed his muscles while playing with her hair.
When Marissa took him all the way inside her mouth, he let out the sexiest moan. Another thing she’d forgotten about. The sounds. The sighs. The pleading.
“Oh fuck yeah,” Heath said. “Oh, God. Fuck. Yeah.”
She couldn’t deep-throat him. Not a big guy like Heath. Maybe one day, if he taught her. He’d taught her many things in college. Marissa wanted him to teach her other kinds of things now.
But she took him in as far as possible. She loved the way her lips naturally wrapped around him, like she was made for him.
And then he pushed her away. A wild, savage look in his eyes. Heath lifted her by the arms and turned her around. Marissa pressed her palms against the back of the couch, planted her knees on the cushion with her thighs wide apart.
Heath buried his nose into her privates. Licked her out, flicked her clit with his tongue. When he entered her with a finger, she asked for more. Pleaded. Fingers weren’t enough. Not after all this time and all those late night fantasies with her sex toys instead of the real thing.
“One sec,” Heath said. He left. She could hear him digging around in his jacket in the front hall. Heath came back with a condom.
“Came prepared?” Marissa said.
“When you first contacted me,” he said, “I wondered if it was you. I wanted it to be you. And so, yes, I came prepared for this.”
“You sly devil.” Marissa stuck her ass further up in the air. Already wet and eager. She was glad he’d brought a condom. Made the night more perfect than it already was. “Need some help?”
Heath bit the condom wrapper, with no luck. Marissa laughed at him—with him, at least he was a good sport and laughed at himself. She got off her hands and knees and turned to face him.
Marissa took the condom from him, opened it with no fuss, and then knelt before him. One last lick and suck, just to taste him again, to get him fully hard. Didn’t take much. She licked his salty precum from his tip, and he twitched to full mast. Marissa slipped the condom onto his cock. She always enjoyed this part. Taking control. Watching the guy look on in eager anticipation.
The very fact this Heath’s cock… the man she figured she’d never see again. Never get to truly know, except as a teacher from long ago. And now he was here, in front of her, the smell of his cock mixing with the lube on the condom.
Once the condom was slipped down, Marissa stood up. Then she nudged Heath into the couch.
And then she turned around herself and sat in his lap. Marissa reached between her legs and grabbed him by the cock. She put his tip into her pussy. And then wiggled, her slick juices sliding him the rest of the way in. She rotated her hips, loving the way his hit her spot just right. Loving the way he massaged and occasionally slapped her ass while she fucked him slowly.
Her skin heated up. Sweat pooled inside her bra. Marissa ran her fingers through her hair. Somebody screamed. She was surprised it was her. Heath shifted under her, and then she felt his body heat pressed against hers. He reached around and fingered her clit while she rolled her hips back and forth. Another scream escaped her throat, and this time she didn’t hold back.
“Marissa,” he said in her ear.
“Heath,” she said. “Oh, baby! Fuck!”
Her pussy tightened and spat his cock out. Every part of her—the inside of her pussy, her toes, the tips of her breasts—tingled with orgasm. A flood erupted from her, ruining her couch. Heath shuddered underneath her. Heat flushed her body. She felt light headed.
But Heath was still hard.
Marissa grabbed his cock and slipped him back inside her. This time, she bounced up and down while rubbing his balls. Faster. Not holding anything back. Skin slapping skin. She pleaded him to give it to her.
He clutched her torso, holding her tight. Then he stood up and threw her into the couch. Heath smacked her on the ass.
And then, he was inside her again, doggy style.
Pumping her like a man possessed.
Marissa could barely breathe. Barely focus, except on the beautiful sensation of being fucked.
And then she felt him twitch inside her. Felt the condom grow warm with his semen. His cock fell out of her, she was so wet.
Marissa fell on her back, dizzy and giddy. Heath settled down on top of her, head on her breasts, and kissed her sweaty skin.
“Thank you,” he said. “I only dreamed…”
“No. Thank you.” Marissa played with his hair until he fell asleep in her arms.
And then she slept too.
* * *
Later, Marissa invited him upstairs to her bedroom, where they made love again. At dawn, wrapped up in his arms, bedsheets soaked in their body fluids, Marissa thought about getting up.
She needed to write the article. Even without the interview, she could’ve at least drafted it out. It’d be something for her editor to have. She had a deadline for this, after all.
Heath snored. He smelled of raunchy sex and sweat. Marissa’s hair was completely tangled. She had no idea what to do with Heath in the morning.
She’d had the best night of her life.
And all thanks to the man she loved in college. The one man she once convinced herself was long gone. Those lonely nights, crying about what never happened, seemed like ages ago.
And now, Marissa finally had wild sex with her teacher, after fifteen long years of wondering.
It had been better than she ever dreamed.
Before she nodded off to sleep again, she dreamed the morning sex would be even better.
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