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The Night I Let Go and Fell Hard
Last Updated:
2025-07-06 13:11:43
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In My Professor's Arms The Moment Our Eyes Met, Everything Changed
(Emily's POV)The hospital waiting area hummed with expectation. Light from the capital city streamed through high windows, reflecting off the newly polished floors. Disinfectant and the perfume of cut flowers from the vendor stand filled the air.I leaned against the reception counter, new white coat, blouse buttoned, skirt tied securely at the waist.My dark hair was secured tightly in a bun, loose wisps fleeing, neglected. My heart remained steady, but nervousness persisted.The memo yesterday repeated in my mind: a politician's stop. David Peterson. He was here to sign off on bills for mothers delivering today, a theatrics move.I'd dismissed it. My assignment was simple: be cardiology's representative, be professional, let the pageant blow past me. My existence was still, yet vibrant. A lot were falling apart and out of place. But I was firm and unshakeableStaff rushed. Cameras clicked. A crowd accumulated, reporters, nurses, patients. Whispers vibrated the air with hum.I shif
In My Professor's Arms He Gave Her Everything... Then Disappeared Without a Word
The hospital hummed with its usual rhythm. Beyond the tall windows, the capital city stirred to life, its skyline sharp against a pale morning sky.I was in my office, like I always am when there is not too much to demand my attention. My dark hair was twisted into a tight bun, strands tugging at my scalp, ignored. Charts littered my desk.A mug of cold coffee, its rim chipped, held down a pile of reports.The air was perfumed with antiseptic and held the soft, steady whine of monitors. Outwardly, I was composed. Inwardly, an invisible pressure pressed against my chest.This opus, offspring of a life in service, all of it had been a gift from Mark Kennedy.Now he is no where to be found. His phone silent. My gratitude unspoken. Doubt had begun to creep in, softly and insistent. All I remember of him is the hot night that we shared, before he orchestrated all of this and it all happened I stood and brushed my coat straight. My heels clicked on tile as I moved to the window.Below, th
In My Professor's Arms The Night I Let Go and Fell Hard
The quad glowed gold in the light the evening. Heat clung to my skin, thick with the bitter smell of food carts that lined the surrounding.I stood on the edge of the stage, my sneakers on grass, sundress flapping against my legs. My denim jacket was unbuttoned, hair loose and we'll brushed, resting on the nape of my neck.My heart pumped steadily, remembering all the madness that happened in the session. The pain mellowed, the shame less visible, but not blur at all.José's fingers clenched around mine, taut, warm. His companionship is something I can't undermine. All the moments flashed through my mind, all conversation, everything. He was fresh air. My body hummed, my breathing shallower, everything more acute with him near. The final ceremony whirled around us. Laughter filled the space, restless energy everywhere.My heart soared at the prospect.I noticed Sophie and Daniels navigating the throng. Her pink sundress radiating the fading light. His arm around her waist, the chem
In My Professor's Arms His Dick Was Still in My Head, Why This?
I walked fast into the humanities building. The morning was cool and calm, with crisp hair that makes it looks like going to rain heavily.I slowed my pace when I got in, my denim jacket loosely over a black with tight jeans, and backpack straps digging into shoulders.My heart beat was steady, each beat reminding me of last night's sleepless spiral. My parents' split, Mom's tears, Dad's reaction, everything had haunted down.I pushed through the doors, as I head for Victor’s office. The corridor was quiet. Doors closed. A janitor's mop splashing. My jeans rubbing, clinging to my legs, and I felt like I was sweating heavily even though I was not. My backpack feeling heavy, my mind running all around. The picture, him, the boys. I was destroying a home, like ours was.My heart was shattered.I got to the front of his door, Dr. Victor Graham, my heart seized, my breath trapped, my hand frozen, my rap sharp, and my knuckles trembling as I gave three soft knocks."Come in," he said, from
In My Professor's Arms The Night F**ked Me Harder Than He Ever
My bedroom was a silent cavern. The room was darkness , and the only visible light was the glow of a streetlight seeping through the blinds, creating slanted shadows on the walls. I was lying on my bed. The sheets were wrinkled, my askew tank top, tight leggings, my sticky skin from the day's heat, my hair down, draped on the pillow, grazing my neck, unnoticed.The air was still and heavy. My heart was pounding, and my breath uneven. The envelope, the picture—him, a woman, two boys, all smiling.My parents' divorce, ten years younger, Mom's tears, Dad's slammed doors, my headphones, my hiding, washed over me, wave upon wave, my chest constricted, my eyes stinging, my fear palpable, my reality clearer: I was going to be her, the other woman, wrecking a home, like Dad wrecked ours, like Mom wrecked herself, my world unstable, alive.I shifted, the bed creaking, my tank top sticking, my legs stirring, my hands wringing the sheet, its cotton rough, my heart racing, the photo's picture vi
In My Professor's Arms We Fucked Before, But I Didn’t Know..
(Lily's POV)The quad was a gray and green blur, today, the air heavy with spring heat, adhering to my skin like a second layer. I walked across the quad, my sneakers screeching on the ground, my backpack thudding, its straps digging into my shoulders, my denim skirt shifting, my white shirt sticking, damp at the base of my spine. The sun was hot, reflecting off bike racks, pounding against the sweat on my neck, my hair loose, strands adhering to my cheek, itching, unattended.My heart pounded, continually with every single step I took, going to Victor's office. My head was screaming at me to head back, my need for "Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche" is what's pulling me forward.I really need this textbook today, and I he's the only person I can remember having, but I've not seen or spoken with him since the last text.My phone was silent in my pocket, no texts, no calls. José’s word always in my mind, “Whenever you’re ready,” burning brighter, my heart torn, my world unst
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