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The Professor's Star Student (dominant_minded X katie marie)

Aimee felt oh-so-proud of herself as she walked past him. He most definitely was considering her as an attractive girl right now, not a whore. She had caught a glance of him looking at her ass, and it made her heart warm a bit. So the work had been worth it. "Thanks." She replied once inside the house.

Following behind him, she glanced around the house. It was much nicer than what she had expected. Most teachers, even college professors, weren't paid too terribly well. But he looked to have made a pretty penny in his time. "Did you find anything I could improve on?" She asked before they went to the room. Happily taking a seat beside him, she left only a couple of inches between them. Picking up her paper she read over his comments marked in red. "So... Should I make it... More relaxed or more professional?" She leaned towards him ever so slightly, just enough to make sure he could smell the sweet vanilla scent that was radiating off of her.
 
"What I really want from you," he began, ignoring how the voice in his head chose to finish that sentence, "is to put something of yourself into this. You're using the thesis you've heard me repeat in class, but here, in the third paragraph, you almost start to suggest a slightly different view on the violence in the revolution. You know plenty of facts and pull them all into this, but you have an insight here that you don't explore. It's as if you're trying hard to stick to what I've said. The greatest writers aren't scared to offer insight into facts that others may not have already expressed."

He finished, almost romantically. He really did want to actually see something of her in her writing. He believed she was capable of being an incredible writer if she would just trust herself some.

Right. You're not just flattering her to see if you can get into her pants or anything, the voice was coming out more and more around her.
 
"Well... I mean, I wrote several times I thought it was wrong for the people to overthrow any aristocrat in France..." She flipped through the pages, pointing out random times when she did in fact do this. But after re-reading her thesis statement, it was quite obvious that she had very conflicting writings throughout her paper. "I...I just really wanted you to like it. So I sort of just used your view on it. Some teachers don't like it when we argue with what they say." Flipping her paper back to the front page, she picked up his red pen from the table, and began to make her own notes on the thesis.

"So... Are you sure you don't want me to help you with something? I mean, your helping me out a lot right now." She flipped the page and continued to make red marks at various points. "I could clean something, dishes or grade those papers, or something. I feel bad for taking you away from your break." No she didn't. She loved taking him away from her break. But if she got some other task to do around his house, she would be here longer.
 
He considered arguing with her, telling her that wouldn't be a good idea. But to be honest with himself, he simply didn't want to. He was worn out from the work week and certainly didn't feel like fighting a determined, attractive young girl simply to get her out of his house, though he really didn't want her to go 'cleaning up' and have to figure out where his files got off to.

"To tell you the truth, Miss Matthews, I don't really even want to watch someone else work right now. It might tire me out more," he grinned at her. "If you really insist on staying, I'd rather you do something more relaxing. I have movies or we could even simply talk if you like."
 
"That's okay..." Aimee thought for a moment that he was going to ask her to leave, and her heart dropped a little bit. But before she could really begin to pout, her smile came back to her. She could stay! And whats more, she could stay without doing student-y things.

"Well... We could talk if you want to. Or maybe I could go ransack your kitchen and make cookies." She grinned at him, and then set her paper down. Looking onto the table once again, she saw his glass of wine, and smirked to herself. "Or... You could get me a drink as well." Technically, she wasn't legal for drinking yet. Nineteen, she had two years to go. But she was in college! Everyone drank no matter what age they were.
 
He smiled as she suggested making cookies, finding it amusing that she would suggest cooking for him. He continued to smile as she suggested that he get her a drink, and almost started to ask what she wanted. He stopped himself as he realized that Amiee was probably still underage. He thought about it for a short moment, reasoning that it wasn't so terribly illegal in his own home. Instinctively he looked towards the front door, thinking about the front drive beyond where her car was parked. "Well... Alright, what would you like, Miss Matthews? Pardon me, would you mind if I just called you Aimee?"

He stood up walking to the doorway and added, "Oh and one condition on your drink, if I think it best, I insist on driving you home tonight."
 
"I always wondered why teachers don't call students by their first name." That was her answer to his question, leaning back on the couch, she arched her back in a stretch. It was more of a habit that her attempt to attract him, for once, she had never truly realized how far her chest and crotch where pushed out when she did so. Collapsing back into the couch, she tilted her head to the side, a mischievous grin on her face.

"You've been drinking as well. What makes you think you can drive better than me while intoxicated?" Standing up she smiled at him, and followed behind him. Aimee's fingers gently ran over the tables and statues that came her way, and eventually came to the kitchen with him. "So... Mr. Iverson.... What is your first name?"
 
He chuckled and took her tone as teasing. He said back sarcastically, "Well at least if I get pulled over, we're not looking at charges for underage drinking."

He watched as she touched some of the historical masks and artifacts he had picked up in his travels, and was struck by her femininity in a way he tried not to be. He walked into the kitchen and open the cabinets where he kept his various liquors and wines and started to open it up so she could 'shop'.

Hearing her question, he answered, "I don't usually get into that with students, but I guess it's not like you couldn't look it up on the department website. My first name is Thomas, but I usually go by Tom."
 
Aimee giggled at his response to her question. That was a good point. Either way, both of them would probably be sentenced for drinking and driving. Looking around the kitchen as he opened up the various cabinets, she searched around. "Hmm..." She mumbled to herself. After a moment she found a large bottle of tequila, and another of brandy. Pulling them both out she left the brandy to the side, and searched around the room for a margarita glass.

"Tom? As in Tom and Jerry?" She asked with a grin. Oh, old silent cartoons. They were cute - but the silent part bugged her to no end. Not looking at him as she grabbed the triangular glass, she continued on. "So may I call you Tom now when we aren't in class?" Aimee asked, and then poured a bit of tequila on the edges of the glass. Pouring salt into a tray she dipped it in, making her own salted glass. She sure was a perfectionist when it came to drinks. Shaking the tequila in with ice, sugar, and lemon lime juice, she soon poured out a nice looking margarita. "Viola. This is what I have learned from college."
 
He watched as this young girl played bartender in his kitchen, and had a rather sarcastic thought about the state of our educational system and what it was teaching our young people. He grinned at her and answered her, "I prefer Tom as in Tom Cruise, well without the crazy Scientology." He chuckled lightly then said, "I suppose I don't mind you calling me Tom in my home, but not on campus, alright young lady?" Something about the way he said young lady didn't come out as teacher-like as he had intended it.

Why didn't you just call her a hot young thing? the voice teased him now. He didn't bother to fight it off this time, but instead raised his hand jokingly and said, "Excuse me, barkeep, could you make me one of those as well?"

And now you're just flirting with her. Why do you always insist that we do these things the slow way?
 
"I'm not that young of a lady." She grinned at him, perhaps trying to push the notion that she was in fact a legal girl, no longer jailbait. Still smiling, Aimee grabbed him his own glass, and restarted the whole process. "How much tequila do you want? More lemon juice or more alcohol?" The brunette asked as she pushed his glass into the salt. It was then that she licked at the salt around her drink. She had a bad habit of snacking of that, and then lime wedge stuck into it.

Eventually finishing his drink, she turned around and handed it to him. "There. Now you can be caught drunk driving as well." With a small laugh she leaned against the counter he was by, before hopping onto it.
 
"Not too much on the alcohol," he smiled, "I like to keep my wits about me. After all, there are some experiences in life where you don't want your senses dulled." Although it sounded cryptic, to him it felt his last statement was far too obvious.

Still it wasn't direct enough for the part of him that the voice kept coming from. Are you going to do this all evening, just making double entendres and hiding your flirtations?

He smiled at her warmly, sipping the drink she gave him. He began to wonder whether it was her that he was teasing with his remarks, or himself.

"Well, do you want the dime tour?" he asked her and motioned towards the interior of the rest of the house.
 
Aimee raised a brow at his rather risque comment. Tilting her head to the side for a moment, she smirked at him, and then took a small sip of her drink. Damn. He was gorgeous. She hadn't though much lately on why exactly she liked him so much. The girl had been much too determined in actually getting him to think of why she wanted him.

"I would love a tour." She grinned, and without a word of agreement, she slipped her arm around his elbow, holding her against them. It wasn't too odd, was it? I mean, even elegant ladies did this with men during the French Revolution... So... It was okay? "To be honest, your house is really nice for a teacher... Well, professor. Even fancy ones don't have really nice places."
 
He just barely managed to keep from blushing as she looked at him with her head cocked to the side. He was relieved that she broke the tension quickly.

He tingled and trembled just a little when she slipped her hand through his arm; he hoped that she didn't notice. As he walked from the kitchen and past the dining room with Aimee on his arm and sipped his drink, he explained to her how he got this house, "Well, you see, I wasn't always a History teacher." He chuckled a bit and continued, remembering, "In fact I wasn't in the history field or the teaching field. I got my B.S. in Engineering." He went on to explain how he worked hard, got decent grades, and then got a very well paying job in which he traveled a great deal. He told her how he had slowly started to realize that the traveling and learning about new places and their history and culture were the things he loved about the job, and his heart was increasingly just not in the engineering work. After 4 years of this, he had started taking some correspondence courses in history to get his masters. At the time he had told himself that it was just a hobby, but deep down inside he knew. After 8 years working with the company, he quit and went back to school to get his doctorate. His colleagues had been stunned, he explained, when he left the six figure career. "And I've loved every moment since," he said as he finished the explanation, having made it to a large room lined with bookshelves and various artifacts that formed his personal library, "but most of the artifacts you see here were picked up while I was still traveling for the company."
 
Aimee grinned and nodded the entire time he told his story. She looked around at every room they passed, trying to make a mental map. Once they arrived at the library, she realized her head was leaning against his shoulder, as she was somewhat tired. "So teaching is more fun than being able to travel all over the world?" Looking around the room, she saw quite a few odd statues and trinkets from around the world.

"I like Europe a lot. Mostly England, Ireland, France... Those types of places." She said quietly as she looked around once again. A lot of his items seemed to be from South America or India. "But I've only been there once... Maybe sometime I can hitch a ride with you." Laughing a bit, she squeezed his arm against her.
 
"Well teaching's more fun than traveling for a company," he answered cheerfully. He pointed to a few statues explaining where they came from, it seemed he had quite a few that were fertility symbols from different cultures, for some reason. Even more oddly, it seemed that one or two of the trinkets were ancient torture devices of some sort.

He chuckled lightly when she suggested that she be his traveling companion and said, "Sure, I could be your tour guide and show you the things they don't normally show to tourists." He winked at her and the wink added just a hint of naughtiness to what he was saying. He showed her some of the books in the library and then quickly explained the rooms that they had just been through while he was telling his story.

He lead her out of the library and showed her the second guest bedroom and his master bedroom, which looked elegant though it was obvious a bachelor lived in it. He showed her the lovely bathrooms and a den that had obviously been decorated by Geek Squad from best buy and not an interior decorator, but there was one door that as they passed it she felt him speed up just a little, barely noticeably. He didn't say anything about what was behind it or even acknowledge its existence; he simply walked them quickly past it until they were back in the small study where her paper was still sitting. He sipped the last of the margarita and asked her, "Well what do you think of the place?"
 
As they passed through the rooms, Aimee made a map in her head, but her thoughts were mostly on him. He was a fairly proud man, not that this was a bad thing - no, it showed he was strong. Still, some of the rooms were rather bachelor like, and it was cute. Perhaps he thought she wouldn't notice the one room he had passed, but oh, Aimee was observant above all else. "I think you should let some stubble grow in Mr. Tom." She grinned, and then immediately pulled his hand in the direction they had came from. "You'd look sexy." Well, that was bold.

Aimee began to sink more and more into the place, and with that, became more comfortable with this man. And therefore, her levels of politeness dropped. She was being rather blunt now, like she was with her friends. "Now what is behind this door?" She asked, bringing him to the room they had passed.
 
Maybe it was the alcohol, or perhaps the voice that was growing steadily louder in his head (or even the fact that she was quite determined to push her infatuation until she got something from him), but he suddenly felt bold enough not to shy away from such a question.

"That, is a room reserved for my fantasies," he said with a rather broad grin, "It's quite filled with kinks, schoolboy dreams, and all sorts of naughty things that little girls like yourself shouldn't be subjected to." His tone and the smirk in his smile made the 'warning' he just gave her all the more suggestive. Of course, he figured that calling her a little girl would probably spur her on as well. "It's certainly not the sort of room that a responsible teacher would show his student," he said as a smile spread across his face.
 
"Oh?" Aimee asked, now covered head to toe in goosebumps. She was most definitely getting what she wanted right now. She wanted Tom to talk about these naughty things, and for him pull her into the room, or his bedroom for that matter. "A responsible teacher probably would drink a margarita with his student either."

She could feel the inner part of her body getting warm, a small wet spot forming outside of her panties. It was hard to control herself in such a situation. Before he could say anything more, she opened the door, and pulled him into the room. "Well... Why don't we play a little?"
 
He grinned from ear to ear, the drink and her enthusiasm overcoming his reservations. After all, why should he resist a sexy little girl like her that was so obviously willing? He started by teasing her, "Oh no... nope... against the rules." He paused, trying to create a little disappointment in her face and make her think he was talking about the Dean's rules, but he continued to grin. He let the pause hang in the air for a long moment. "No... no girl is allowed in here unless she has a collar on. And you, missy," he pointed playfully at her neck, "are not in dress code."
 
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