Academic Seduction (profxgirl)(wlw)

Chapter Nineteen

Friday morning unfurled its welcoming embrace, a harbinger of freedom from the academic trenches. In the realm of weekends, I found respite—a fleeting sanctuary where the rigors of lectures and the ceaseless scrutiny of professors yielded to the prospect of liberation. But amidst the sea of unburdened hours, one face reigned supreme in my thoughts—Victoria's.

Beside me, Emily and I occupied the hallowed seats of Victoria's class, our anticipation palpable, like birds perched on the edge of a precipice, awaiting the appearance of our enigmatic professor. My phone lay in my grasp, its screen a mere façade, for my mind dwelled in the labyrinth of memories from yesterday.

Victoria, a beguiling force of nature, had dared to lay bare her heart. Her confession, a fragile and heartfelt revelation, hung in the air like a delicate tapestry of emotions. She had asked me on a date, a gesture of vulnerability that had etched itself indelibly into the annals of my memory. Her descent to bended knee, an act of surrender to her desires, remained a vivid tableau of our shared desires.

Yet, amidst the dizzying whirlwind of emotions, the enigma of her choice haunted me. She, the embodiment of grace and beauty, had forsaken her first love in favor of me, a juxtaposition of my disheveled appearance against Aurora's radiant allure. The revelation left me awestruck, a testament to the inexplicable allure that bound us together.

Emily's voice, like a gentle breeze brushing against my consciousness, broke through the reverie that enveloped me. I met her gaze, my attention refocused on the present moment, like a traveler returning from a distant reverie.

"Sorry?" I confessed, my words laced with a hint of distraction.

Emily, her laughter like a melody in the air, repeated her question, her gaze filled with anticipation. "Can you come to the party?" she inquired, her words a promise of revelry.

"Tonight?" I queried, my phone finding refuge within my pocket.

A nod from Emily affirmed the temporal destination of the celebration. "Yes," she confirmed, her enthusiasm palpable, "It's Steven's birthday party."

My initial reluctance gave way to the allure of memories and the promise of liquid escapism. "Sure," I replied, a nonchalant shrug punctuating my consent. A party, a celebration of surviving the tumultuous week of university, beckoned like a distant beacon. In its embrace, we would navigate the intricate dance of emotions and desires, like stars that shone brighter in the night's expanse.

Victoria's arrival marked the zenith of our academic congregation, a pivotal moment that drew my gaze back to the front of the class. The anticipation that had hummed within me yielded to the professor's presence, and like obedient stars in the night's sky, my attention found its focal point.

With a practiced grace, I unfurled the pages of my book, their crisp edges whispering promises of knowledge yet untapped. My fingers, nimble and sure, cradled the text, an offering to the forthcoming lecture.

Yet, my book was but a mere guise, a cloak for the true purpose that had claimed my attention. I allowed my gaze to trace the contours of Victoria's being, a study of allure and enigma. Her attire, a symphony of elegance and sophistication, bore witness to her status as the arbiter of intellect. Trousers, crisp as a winter's morning, cascaded downward, while a pristine white button-down shirt clung to her form. A neutral sweater, artfully draped over her shoulder, added an air of casual charm.

Her dark blonde tresses, like tendrils of night, were woven into loose curls that tumbled gracefully over her shoulders, an ethereal cascade that begged to be touched and entangled. Ethan's assertion, that she embodied the archetype of a 'mommy,' resonated in my thoughts like a siren's call, an enchantment that beckoned with the allure of forbidden desires.