"Innocence can be difficult to define. Is it the absence of guilt? Is it the absence of guilty intentions? Is it being lucky enough not to be caught in the act? Are there levels of innocence? If the tension of hypocrisy is the partition between what exists inwardly in secret and what is outwardly projected, is that commendable or discrediting?"
Mike smiled and paused. He wanted to let the questions marinate in the minds of his students. He never grew weary of fostering a sense of intellectual curiosity in his students, compounded by the moral judgements required to address certain topics. A room full of mid-twenties aged grad students seeking his approval could be intoxicating. Especially when they tried to impress with their own perspectives in the belief that they could impress him, perhaps even debate on his level. He was no egomaniac nor an authoritarian snob, but he did enjoy what he viewed as the sacred honor of contributing to the successful journey of those who were willing to engage.
"Innocence is purity," was the first response. Short. Succinct. An honest attempt. Mike nodded without speaking. Jennifer was not sure if he was agreeing with her answer or patronizing her. She wondered to herself if she should elaborate, but for the moment chose to believe the he was signaling that at least she gave it a good effort.
"Innocence is the antithesis of guilt. Without guilt, there can be no innocence." Maria stopped as if she had more to say but wasn't sure she was willing to risk further investment until affirmed. Mike offered that smile. He nodded, as if inviting her to elaborate.
Maria bit her lip, then pushed a little further. "The moral weight of innocence can not exceed the moral weight of guilt. So innocence is only as robust as the countering, existing guilt."
The class was pensive and quiet. Mike looked directly at Maria, then in an accepting tone replied to her. "So Maria. If there is an absence of consciousness of guilt, would that therefore make innocence unobtainable?"
Eyes focused on Maria. Her soft, warm, brown eyes signaled that she could not respond, so Mike continued. "Let's say, for example, there is such an ignorance of a point of law that one is utterly bankrupt of even the slightest sense of guilt. Wrong has clearly been committed, but there is absolutely no association of guilt for the lawbreaker. If we understand your thought correctly, you would assert that this would define one as neither guilty or innocent; in essence, the absence of all moral accountability."
Maria tried to grasp the concept. Before she could speak, Mike continued. "For example. Person 'A' loves person 'B'. Person 'A' sleeps with person 'B'. Person 'A' believes that person 'B' is both legally and morally fair game. Is person 'A' guilty of anything if person 'B" is indeed married?"
From the back of the class, John quipped, "Guilty of being stupid." The class laughed, releasing some of the stress in the room.
Mike smiled. "Well Maria. It seems that John disagrees with you."
John squirmed as Maria glanced at him. He was simply being a smartass.
Mike pressed on. "So just to be clear John, let me restate what I heard you say. The absence of knowledge - which would set the perimeters for innocence and guilt - condemns a person to being guilty... of lacking knowledge. Is that right?"
John did not understand the question. Mike could tell. "Let me put it this way, in a way perhaps you better understand." Mike walked over next to Maria, stood directly next to her as she sat her desk, creating a dramatic moment. "If Maria would allow me to use her as a piece in this rubric for John's sake." He smiled down at Maria.
Maria nervously returned a smile to Mike while also shooting a glare in John's direction. "Sure, use me."
Mike coolly puffed, "Great. So follow along John. Maria believes I am single and never-married. She believes that my moral code is totally in harmony with a relationship between us. She gives herself to me. We fuck. She never knows that I am indeed married. Of what, exactly, is she guilty?"
The edge of tension increased in the room as each person tried to managed the multiple levels of conflict unfolding. Some were worried for Maria. Others were taken aback at Mike's use of the word "fuck." A few felt sorry for John, who obviously was in over his head. And nearly all were scrambling to mentally gather their own thoughts lest they be called upon to offer their judgment.
With the borderline sexual harassment hanging in the air, the outing of a class clown, and the moral dilemma not going anywhere, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Then, sensing his students need for an escape route from the moment, Mike announced, "I will let you stew on this. We will pick up here next time." As the sound of students stirring so as to not allow him even a second to change his mind, Mike added, "Reminder; chapters 8-10 next time... AND be prepared to defend your position." As the trail of bodies began to exit the room he added, "Make sure you HAVE a position to defend." He smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment it gifting his students an opportunity to think at levels that were challenging.
He watched as Maria made her way to the exit, a bit slower than the others. As he tried to gauge her state of mind, closely examining her body language, he enjoyed his own private thoughts inspired by her body. Those eyes were like puppy dog eyes, smoldering and sensual. Her coal-black hair glistened, hanging just above her shoulders. Then there was those curves. Standing no more than 5 feet 5 inches perhaps, a frame he guessed rounded out about 130 pounds, she possessed the salacious curves in both breasts and ass. As she wiggled away wearing leggings and a tee which both complimented that fit body of hers, he discreetly analyzed every inch of her.
During office hours that afternoon, he had three students who had made appointments. Although his office hours were posted as 4-6 pm, his students understood that due to the secretary's workday ending at 5 pm, you had to be inside the office no later than 4:55, as the doors would be locked when the secretary left. Those with appointments after 5 pm were relegated to waiting alone in the modestly furnished (a couch and two chairs) reception area after the secretary left.
The schedule showed Brian at 4:30, Jennifer at 5:00, Maria at 5:30.
As Mike addressed Brian's concerns behind the closed door of his office, both Jennifer and Maria arrived at about the same time and took their places waiting on the couch. Moments later, the secretary bid them a good day. Both Jennifer and Maria knew the procedures, both having had previous office appointments with Mike in the past. Wait your turn. Do not let anyone else into the office. When you leave, make sure the door closes behind you.
The two girls chatted politely as they passed the time. As soon as the secretary exited, Jennifer turned serious and shifted to look Maria in the eyes. "I guess John learned a lesson today, eh?"
Maria giggled, "He had it coming."
Jennifer nodded. "Yeah, but he is a funny guy. I don't think he was really voicing disagreement with you."
"No worries, Jen. It was nothing, really."
"Nothing?" Jennifer raised her eyebrows, extended her hand towards Maria's shoulder, and with a tone dripping in concern repeated, "Nothing?" After a brief pause she added, "Maria. That was a bit edgy don't you think?"
"Oh my god, yes. I mean, I know it was just an hypothetical example, but I think it was kind of edgy."
"You mean Mike using me as an example?"
"I mean Mike using you as an example, but not just any example . . ." Jennifer's voice tailed off.
Maria nodded, waited a moment, and then seemed to offer to finish Jennifer's sentence. "...An example our mom's might not be proud of." She smiled to disarm Jennifer. Jennifer smiled back.
The two of them chatted further, as Jennifer seemed to want to relive the moments from class about as much as Maria seemed content to simply move on from those moments. Then Mike's office door opened and Brian stepped into the hallway. He smiled at Jennifer and politely said, "Your turn."
Jennifer leaned in and gave Maria a hug before she got up and walked to Mike's office. Brian felt his own wave of concern for Maria, and sat down in Jennifer's place and rehashed those 'edgy' moments with Maria in his own way, adding his own perspective. Maria deflected the questions and graciously assured Brian that she was just fine. Brian was a great guy, but Maria was a bit on her guard around him. He was one of those people who was just too free with their opinions for her tastes.
After asking a few questions and offering even more opinions, Brian got up to leave. With a glint in his eyes as he headed toward the door he bid her farewell and added, "By the way, clever hoodie there."
Maria smiled, "Bye. Thanks." Brian left. She sat alone. His final comment echoed in her mind as she sat there, gently tugging the front of the hoodie jacket away from her as she glanced down at the printed message and just shook her head at herself, wondering how many people actually read the entire message.
Four lines were embossed in block, white letters across the front on the black jacket. The first three lines, printed across her breasts, each had a checked box bullet point.
--Big time student loans
The last line, positioned lower across her flat tummy, was the kicker . . .
Accepting applications for Sugar Daddy
Jennifer emerged from Mike's office and offered Maria a nervous smile saying, "Your turn. See you tomorrow, okay?"
Maria gave her hug. "Thanks, Jen." Then she watched Jennifer exit and took notice that the door shut behind her.
Maria walked to the doorway of Mike's office, peeked in and softly asked, "Ready for me?"
Mike offered a big smile and a sweeping gesture towards the chair next to his desk. "Am I?"
Maria shrugged politely, those big, brown eyes offering warm affirmation, as she shut the door behind her and sat down.
"I hope I didn't make you have to wait too long out there."
"Nope. Actually gave me and Jen time to catch up on a few things."
"A few things. Yes. I can imagine." Mike nodded knowingly.
"Seems she had some, um, concerns with some of the class material today." Maria smiled, signaling those concerns belonged to Jennifer, not her.
"She had a few comments."
Mike smiled. "As I remember, you had your own comment, veiled as it was."
Mike leaned forward and offered a replay in a whisper. "I believe upon my asking your permission, you stated, 'Sure, use me,' right?"
Maria smiled and offered a simple defense. "Well, not sure what I am supposed to do when you blurt out in front of the class that, and correct me if I am misquoting you..." she paused for a brief, dramatic effect ... "WE FUCK."
Mike nodded and smiled. "Yes. Well-played, Maria."
She shifted in her chair. "Is it warm in here to you?" Without waiting for him to reply, she crossed her arms and extended her fingers to the bottom of her hoodie jacket and tugged it upward. Mike watched as the fabric curled up over that provocative message and then popped up over her head. What was unveiled simply took his breath away. There Maria sat, her hoodie now puddled on the floor next to her chair, wearing a sheer, snug, black, tank top that did little to veil the lacey bra beneath. The bra really wasn't much needed since her breasts, although more busty than her smaller frame deserved, rested so firm and high as if immune to gravity. She was still wearing those leggings he had admired earlier.
"As for Jennifer. Safe to assume she is clueless?"
Maria leaned forward to answer as she felt Mike's eyes feasting on the limited view she offered him. "Not. A. Clue."
Mike's finger dared to extend, making first contact along the edge of the tank top shoulder strap migrating down from her shoulder towards the low-scooping, U-collar dipping generously. "And Brian?"
"Brian's eyes," she murmured, "they see what they see and are blind to whatever else."
Mike's finger delicately slithered down the slide of that collar as he quietly mused, "Brian's eyes aching to see . . . this?" He dared to tug just a little bit on the curve of that collar. She felt his finger nudge both the fabric of her tank top and the sheer cup of her bra lower. She knew he had managed to expose the upper curve of her dark, circular nipple. "Do his eyes want to... use you?"
She took a deep breath and exhaled. "Mmmm ... please, use me." Mike rose from his chair, locked the door, moved behind Maria as she positioned herself comfortably under his watchful eye. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck. Then, a series of kisses which journeyed from her ear to her cheek to the edge of her mouth. As she melted in the moment, her mouth fell slightly open, extending the welcome for his soft, probing tongue to slither towards hers. There was no threshold between nuzzles and kisses and open-mouthed engagement. It was as if they slid down the slippery slope without a single impingement of motion. It was a seamless connection like the foam on the waves breaking on the white sands of the beach.
Playing with fire was something Mike knew was a rare treat. He dared not create any further sparks with Maria during class, lest there be further concerns or questions that might raise suspicions. That was the last thing he wanted. That dance, their dance, was discreetly veiled when they dared tango in full view of others. The plausible deniability was, well to seize upon Jennifer's own words, what allowed it to be so edgy.
What existed in complete secrecy, was anything but innocent. Mike was married. Maria knew that. For their own independent reasons, they found perfect symmetry in using each other for their own needs. Maria was not interested in marriage or long-term entanglements. Mike was not interested in divorce. Maria was a hot little fuck and she knew it, although she had very, very picky tastes in her lovers. Mike was a typical, mid-30's husband whose career-occupied wife offered a secure homestead, but too many limitations to enumerate when it came to sexual activity.
On their better days, Mike and Maria could articulate a labyrinth of justifications to their secret and edgy sexual fulfillment together. On other days, they mocked each other with the simple reality that they were both horny for the same thing, the same rare thing that they had found in each other.
Maria did not like to suck dick. Mike was fine with that.
Maria did not like anal sex. Mike was fine with that.
Maria loved to masturbate, using a virile, strong, thick dick as her tool. Mike was well-equipped for that and enjoyed being of such service.
Maria craved the sensual touches, seductive musings, unspoken affirmations, and delicate connections that pushed her orgasmic experiences to new frontiers.
Mike loved the feel of his cum spurting from his throbbing dick onto the warm, accepting flesh of a beautiful pair of breasts. Maria was well-equipped for that and found a sense of arousal from being put to such use by him. Feeling HIS cum on HER breasts... rubbing it in like lotion... allowing it to linger on her body for future pleasures.
Fucking was a rare treat, as they spent most of their erotic times together exploring the depths of sexual pleasures they could discover outside of the act of penetration. It was an odd and edgy obsession they shared. But the contagious pleasure of Maria's glistening clit pulsating with pleasure with an insatiable ability to provide wave after wave of ecstasy was such a rush that both she and her lover could bask in the vibe of pleasure for hours upon hours.
Maria never expressed much, if any, jealousy, seemingly secure in Mike's continued affirmation that she filled a part of him that his own wife had no interest or knowledge to pursue. That what they shared touched him in ways the acts of lovemaking in marriage never could. Maria embraced that truth deeper than Mike thought possible, and he so treasured the results. They had a "no strings attached" agreement. Foolish as it sounded, as countless others have failed at such alignments of intentions, it was working for them. The depth of that agreement expanded borders that even Mike could not foresee, even as he occasionally would remind Maria with two simple, yet powerful words to articulate the scope of their bond: Liberating Immunity. Set free to the forbidden in secret, no explanations, no defense, no obligations. He loved the sly smile that would crease her lips whenever Mike would puff those two words in Maria's ear. How she glowed. How she seemed to quiver with both expectancy and pleasure at the thought those two words encompassed.
To be able to actually verbalize the words "Maria gives herself to me... we fuck" in front of an entire class of smart, intellectual, inquisitive minds was indeed edgy and a rush for Mike. It was playing with fire. He was a pyro for sure. Maria was hot. Yet, they managed to pull it off without raising any credible suspicions.
Their story would have no doubt eventually dulled into the dynamics of diminishing returns and eventually led to a termination that would have been awkward in timing, devolving into more of a liability than an asset. Eventually, one or the other would have to say "enough" which would lead to the short season of stops and starts until the final break would happen, only recognizable later when nothing more would happen.
But, their story would take a different turn, pivoting on one, simple misstep that the fates would thrust upon these mere mortals. A simple misstep when Mike was walking and texting and in a hurry. The unmarked, single-step drop in the sidewalk was unexpected. One misstep, followed by a stumble, and there he crumpled with a broken wrist. A broken right wrist.
Maria rushed to his side. She had been walking no more than 20 feet in front of him when he fell. In truth, she was the real distraction that led to his fall. What followed was a quick visit to Campus Health ... x-rays ... advisement to see an orthopedic surgeon ... and a ride home. Maria offered to drive. Mike accepted. It seemed all so timely and appropriate and 100% plausible and acceptable and whatever other securities his wife would need to eliminate any sense of suspicion.
Mike handed over the keys to Maria. She was now in the driver's seat. She politely took his directions and made each turn as he guided her. He was used to guiding her, using her. But this was different. I felt different. I was different.
Upon their arrival at Mike's home, Maria parked. Mike's wife, Kathleen, was not home yet, so Maria ushered Mike to the front door. Mike opened the door to Maria. He invited her into his home, something she would remind him of later.
What unfolded over the next few hours was the most amazing alignment of edgy circumstances and opportunities that Mike could have ever imagined. That these events unfolded while he was in moderate pain and immobility was the ironic twist.
When Kathleen walked in the door, Mike was reclined on the couch with multiple pillows tucked here and there to keep him comfortable, the work of Maria's touch. Maria got up to greet Kathleen. "Hi, I am Maria."
Kathleen quickly and politely greeted her, "Hello Maria" as she moved to Mike's side at the couch. "So you fell off a sidewalk?" She leaned down to kiss his cheek.
He sighed and muttered, "stupid me."
As Kathleen tucked Mike's hand in hers, she said to Maria, "Thank you so much for being in the right place at the right time to get him home."
"Happy he could use me." Her words hung in the air for an instant. They registered. It was edgy of her. But the ears those words registered meaning in did not flinch. More playing with fire.