A Night With Professor Elliott

Nancy's POV

The club was bright and busy. Perfect place to get employed without anyone knowing, the music was loud and light barely showed the faces of people that filled the space, including me. 

It was an exclusive club, expensive, filled with men that had more money than morals. I told Nathaniel that I worked as a waitress outside campus. Although the lies made me feel guilty every time, but at least it kept him from asking questions I couldn't answer. 

I was almost done with my set on the side stage when the VIP section lit up. A private party filled with Elite clients. The kind of people that didn’t think before spending, sometimes, they wanted a show and other times, they wanted more.

As I danced, moving my hips and arching my back, my fingers ran down my naked breasts, pinching my nipples and faking a gasp every time. The tiny black shorts I wore hugged my ass tightly, leaving almost nothing covered. I hated it but I needed it at the same time. 

Then, I felt it.

Intense eyes, watching me, I knew I had caught someone's attention. 

My eyes moved from person to person at the VIP lounge and stopped when they met with a pair of blue eyes.

‘Oh No.’

He sat in the shadows with a glass of whiskey in his hands, legs spread. 

My rhythm faltered. I almost missed a beat. 

Yet, he didn't look away, instead the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, almost a smile.

I hastily finished the dance on shaky legs and went backstage, heart beating fast. Maybe he didn't really recognize me. Maybe he wasn’t Nathaniel’s boss or one of his stupid colleagues.

In the midst of my endless thoughts, a large hand held my wrist before I could enter the dressing room.

“Leaving so soon, Nancy?”

His voice was low, coarse and far too close. At the mention of my name, I turned around. The man stood tall in front of me, dressed in a dark shirt, sleeves rolled up revealing his veiny forearms. 

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I whispered, chest rising and falling speedily.

His grip tightened; it wasn't painful but strong. “You dance like that every night?”

I swallowed hard, playing along to avoid trouble. “I… it’s j-just a part-time job.”

His eyes moved slowly down my body. “And that pussy of yours looks even tighter in these shorts”

Heat flooded my face. I tried to pull away, but he moved closer, backing me against the wall.

“Don't fight it. I am going to pay you ten times what they pay you here for the rest of the night,” he said with a low voice “If…you let me fuck you.”

Ten times.

The number hit like a punch, I calculated it promptly, ignoring what I had to give in return. That was a week of Mom’s medical bills. Maybe even part of next semester’s tuition. I thought vigorously. 

I knew it was wrong. Who ever was behind the mask was somebody that clearly knew me, being reckless was the least thing I wanted to be.

But my mother's condition was getting worse and Nathaniel was over stressing himself working double shifts. I was so tired of being afraid all the time. I wasn’t going to do this; never, besides, money couldn't buy my dignity, or could it?

I looked at him. “Okay.” the last word I expected. I had long sold my dignity the moment I started working here.

***

Immediately the door of the suite closed behind us, he undressed, leaving just his trousers and his mask.

He pushed me to the wall, kissing me deeply. He tasted like whiskey and raw hunger. 

His hands were moving all over me… holding my waist. He slid his hand under my shorts, squeezing my ass hard enough to make me gasp into his mouth.

“Fuck, you sound nice.” he groaned against my neck, biting it hard enough to sting. He turned me around, pressing my chest to the wall and then I heard the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper.

He didn’t bother with much prep. He quickly swiped lube from somewhere and then the pressure of his cock against my pussy.

He was big… thicker and longer than anyone I’d ever taken. When he pushed in, slow but relentless, a broken moan tore from my throat.

“Fuck…”

“Papi,” he corrected, thrusting deeper. “Say it.”

“Papi…” My voice cracked as he bottomed out, stretching me open in one smooth hot thrust.

He fucked me as if he had been starving for it. He grabbed my hip with one hand and pinned my head on the wall with another. Every thrust made whimpers and moans escaped my mouth.

“You have a clean pussy, Nancy.”

I wanted to come embarrassingly fast, but my phone rang, it had laid quietly on the night stand, I pulled out immediately, to receive it, ignoring anything my client had to say.

 “Hey, I’m in the middle of something.” I panicked, but he kept yelling through the phone, it was passed my curfew. I hang up immediately and started dressing up, the man just stared, in disbelieve? I guess, “You can keep your money, I have to go now…s-sir.”

 A sigh broke from his lip, “Get cleaned up first, before wearing clothes, you'll find the cash in the drawer,” he said quietly and then crashed on the bed, a peaceful snore followed.

I stood under the hot spray of the shower a few minutes later, legs still shaking, a terrifying thought settled in my chest.

Who did I just fuck?

***

I disliked how my hands shook every time Professor Elliot looked at me, nowadays. 

The lecture hall was filled up with students, but I still felt as if I was completely exposed, sitting alone in the front row. 

Advanced Human Anatomy was my favorite subject and dream class. The one that was supposed to bring me a step closer to school and a real future but instead, it felt as if it was a trap. And I hated him for it. He was so thoughtless and insensitive.

“Miss Brooke,” his deep voice echoed in the room. “The brachial plexus, what happens if the upper trunk is damaged?’ 

I knew the answer. I had studied until my eyes started hurting last night between hospital visits and… other work. But my tongue refused to move, stuck to the roof of my mouth. 

Eyes turned towards me, making me more nervous. My cheeks burned.

“I… uh…” My voice came out small. Timid. Stupid. “It… affects uhm… shoulder movement?” 

Professor Elliot rested on his desk, crossing his arms over his broad chest. He was feared for various reasons as well as respected. At forty, he appeared as if he was still very good looking, with a sharp jawline, dark hair with a few silver strands at the front, and those eyes… those blue eyes?

“Wrong,” he said with disappointment in his voice. It made my stomach twist. “Next time, you won't be pardoned.” 

I sat down lower in my seat, wishing that I could just disappear that moment. Pamela, my best friend, who was sitting two rows behind me, looked at me sympathetically. She was the only one who knew how hard things had been since the accident. Since Mum…

I immediately pushed the thought away. I couldn’t start thinking about the hospital right now. 

“Miss Brooke!” Elliot called louder this time, disturbing my thoughts.

 “Meet me in my office.”