Tanya's Scent

Tanya’s Scent

I suppose it was Tanya’s scent. It certainly wasn’t her good looks although she had a warm and wholesome quality. Her body radiated heat and on a day I'll never forget, she was burning calories. I recall beads of perspiration on her forehead, bordered by locks of blond hair.

“...And so you see Ms Jenkins,” I lectured in a tone usually reserved for my slower students, "The Central Character must be Central, the protagonist must stand in the middle as the world revolves about."

“...And you don’t see this happening with Melissa?"

"Melissa is standing on the edge of your story…. She's the anthesis of central. She’s innocuous. It’s her Mother, Adriana, who’s the locus."

She stepped closer. The smell of her lilac perfume made me fidget uncomfortably.

“How do I fix it ?“ she asked.

I stepped back. “Make Adriana the central character; Melissa’s problems are trivial, compared to what her mother faces."

Tanya stepped closer. Her breasts were showcased protruding from beneath her blouse. With piercing radiance her eyes looked through me, demanding attention and shining with intensity. She tossed a lock of hair with a look of petulance.

Time slowed. She was flushed. Her face had an anxious look, beset with frustration. Something sublime, seemed egging her on, some powerful unseen force, whispering instructions and insistently guiding her actions. A spectacle of repressed yearning began to blossom. Raw obscenity bloomed, flowering before my eyes. A naked energy, animated her body, springing from every pore and fiber. Time stood still, oxygen fled, and the atmosphere filled with foreboding.

This is wrong, for CHRIST'S SAKE! show some judgement and get your ass out of here.

But I lingered, drawn by that damning scent. It filled my nostrils with the smell of unwashed desire. I gulped, the serpent stirred and a shiver raced down my spine.

“I hope I'm not making you nervous, Mr. Smith, you’ve been a great help and I was hoping you could teach me more."

Yeah, a lesson we'd both never forget.

She looked down and noted the bulge. It was as unmistakable as a tent pole. A smile of relief brightened her face. "Is there something more we should be discussing?"

I stammered, trying to say something, ANYTHING.

One hand reached low and gave a squeeze.

I STARTED! nearly jumping out of my shoes.

"I hope I'm not annoying you with with all my questions." Her other hand reached behind, pulling us closer together.

I knew I was lost. She began rubbing with one and embracing with the other.

"As you can probably tell professor, I love hands on instruction."

Like yesterday, I recall her fragrance.

"I'm always OPEN for tutoring,"

A Rorschach Inkblot came to mind, the one with the gaping vagina.

She continued. "Sometimes I need some prodding from a HARD teacher."

I saw myself between her thighs, hands guiding her hips.

"Your eyes are so expressive, Mr. Smith, and at times like this, you've such a compelling manner."

I gulped. Her nipples poked into my chest and I realized she wasn't wearing a bra.

Standing on tiptoes, she kissed my cheek and gave a final long squeeze.

I tried to speak.

“Hush,” she said, It’s time to step back or move forward.”

My heart pounded as I took her waist and felt the press of her stomach against mine. Then, reaching beneath her buttocks, I lifted up, depositing her fanny on my desk.

"Now, how difficult was that?" she giggled nervously, fumbling to unbutton her blouse.