One Plus Two Minus One

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Authors: Tess Mackenzie

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #relationships, #humor, #professor, #affair, #student, #college, #fulfillment, #cheating, #mathematics, #maths, #choices, #decisions, #maths professor

BOOK: One Plus Two Minus One
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ONE PLUS TWO MINUS ONE

 

Tess Mackenzie

 

 

 

 

 

 

C
opyright 2013 Tess
Mackenzie

Smashwords Edition

 

 

Table o
f
Contents

 

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Chapter
Six

Chapter
Seven

Chapter
Eight

Chapter
Nine

Chapter
Ten

About the
Author

 

Chapter One

Beth needed
one night of not being herself.
A night
away from work and mathematics and people who assumed, because they
knew her, that they knew everything she was.

She was at a
warehouse party.
She hadn’t realized they
still had them until some friends took her along. It was loud, and
badly lit, and full of strangers, and that was what she needed.
Lights too dim to see and music too loud to think. It was warm,
muggy from too many people packed too close together, and the bass
was so deep and full she could feel it in her chest when she
breathed. She was sweaty and sticky with spilled drinks, and had
been hit on so often she was just shaking her head no without even
speaking any more. It was perfect. She was having a perfect
night.

She was dancing, had been dancing with the
same guy for ten minutes or so, and as far as she could tell in the
darkness, he was hot.

She had a
fuck-me dress and heavy makeup around her eyes and stripper
heels.
The shortest dress and the highest
heels she owned, so high she shouldn’t really be able to walk
except she’d skated as a kid and still had good balance. Her legs
looked good. She looked good. She looked nothing like a
mathematician, and that was the point.

She pressed
herself against the guy and could feel the heat of his chest
through their clothes.
“I need a drink,”
she shouted into his ear.

He looked at her and grinned.


Drink,” she
shouted, and mimed it, then waved goodbye and turned away.
Beth assumed she’d lost him then, that he’d
forget her and dance with someone else.

There was a
bar set up in a back corner.
She wasn’t
sure how permanent or legal the whole place was, but they had a
bar. She got some money out her bra, warm and damp from her skin,
leaned over the counter and shouted, “Water,” and
pointed.

She stayed
where she was, leaning forward, waiting for the bartender to come
back.
She didn’t want him losing track of
her in the darkness.

Someone put
their hand on her hip, but she ignored it.
It happened fairly often. Usually it was gross and creeped
her out, and occasionally she didn’t mind. Right now, she’d been
dancing and forgetting and felt like the sexiest woman alive, so
she didn’t mind being felt up a little.

She stayed where she was, pretending not to
notice.

The person
moved, got right close behind her, leaned past her to get water
too.
She realized it was the same guy,
the dancing guy. He must have followed her.

She looked at him and grinned.

He kept
leaning forward, pressing against her a bit, so she was trapped
against the bar.
It felt good, that
contact. It felt good to be a little bit trapped. He moved his hand
slightly, put it on her ass like it being there was an accident,
and she just grinned at him and let him. He might have been meaning
to touch through her dress, she thought, but the dress was so short
that he got bare skin. He looked surprised, for a moment, like he
hadn’t expected skin, but left his hand there, touching gently.
Stroking Beth’s ass, while she looked at him. She hadn’t quite
decided if she should get upset or not.

His hand felt
good.
Far too good for the kind of
pervert who’d grope her at the bar. She decided not to make a
fuss.

She opened
her bottle, and sipped, and he watched her from inches away.
She thought he was going to kiss her, and she
wasn’t ready for that yet. He was still waiting for his water, so
she held her bottle out. He took it. Took it with his other hand,
still feeling her up with the first. He drank, and she pushed back
against his hand a little, just because. His fingers slid ever so
slightly down between her legs.

He leaned
over and said something in her ear.
It
might have been his name, but she couldn’t really hear. She shook
her head anyway, said, “Don’t talk. Don’t tell me.”

He
shrugged.
He couldn’t hear her, and she
couldn’t hear him, and that was kind of hot.

He was
younger than her, she decided
Definitely
younger than her, probably only just old enough to get in here. She
liked that, liked the idea of a one-night toyboy fling with a guy
ten years her junior.

She took her
bottle back, and he looked at her wrist as she reached over.
She had Euler's identity tattooed there, quite
small, black. She’d got it the night she finished her last
undergrad exam, a bit tipsy, before she decided having pi tattooed
anywhere on yourself was tacky. She’d probably been older then than
the guy with his hand up her dress was now.

“Maths,” she said, and he heard her that
time.


Yeah,” he
shouted, like that was obvious.
“I
know.”

That was kind
of hot.
No-one had reacted like that
before, even though any engineer or scientist ought to recognize
it.

She nodded,
and looked away.
Looked around the room.
He still had his hand up the back of her dress. He was rubbing the
back of her leg, rubbing her ass, trying to get his fingertips into
her underwear, into her. It was pretty deliberate now, he wasn’t
just feeling her up, he was trying to turn her on. She leaned on
the bar, breathing hard, resting. Breathing hard from all the
dancing, obviously.

She glanced
around, checked no-one was looking at them.
It was dark. No-one had noticed.

She was being felt up in the darkness, in a
crowd of hundreds of people, strangers bumping her arm, her
shoulder, reaching past her to the bar.

It was hot.

He waited
until she looked towards him, and kissed her.
She’d been expecting it, and kissed him back. Standing at
the bar, pressed together, ignoring other people jostling them
while trying to get their drinks. She thought he’d stop, after a
minute, but he kept going. For a long time, far longer than anyone
had bothered kissing her lately. He might have been high, since
people got a bit funny and started touching strangers for hours at
parties like this. He might have been worried she’d change her mind
if he stopped. She didn’t care why, she kissed him back. His mouth
felt good against hers, soft lips and no spit and no tongue at all
until she got desperate and opened her mouth first. And she had to
respect that, making her do it, so she looked like the needy
slut.

She leaned on
the bar to keep her balance, and just kissed him, and whole minutes
passed.
She was standing at a bar and
kissing a total stranger, and that was exactly what she’d needed to
do tonight.

After a
while, after five minutes, someone poked her in the back.
One of the bar staff, smiling, but waving them
away.

“Hey,” she said, into the guy’s mouth, “We
have to move.”

He couldn’t hear her, shrugged.

She pointed
across the room, pushed him gently.
He
got it, and took her hand, and led her across the room. Took her
hand, she thought, in case she wandered off. She liked that. They
pushed into gaps, worked their way through. There were people
everywhere, and it took a while. A lot of corners were taken. He
stopped and kissed her a few more times, just turned around and
kissed her for no good reason, and that made her feel horny and
wanted.

They found a
space against a pillar, right at the back of the warehouse.
The pillar was wide and square, unfinished
concrete, and there was no-one on the hidden side away from the
room. He tried to lean Beth’s back against it, facing her towards
him. She didn’t want that, and resisted being put there. She wanted
to be how they’d started at the bar, facing away, an anonymous hand
up her dress. She didn’t want to see his face, or talk to him, or
know who he was. She shook her head, and kept turning herself
around, and he got it after a moment and stopped trying. She leaned
against the pillar, facing it, and he kissed her neck.

She’d ended
up with him holding her arm in the small of her back.
He hadn’t let go of her hand when she was
turning around, and her wriggling and turning meant it had twisted
around with her. Her hand was now bent into the small of her back,
behind her, like a bouncer’s arm-lock, and he was pushing her
forward, pressing her against the pillar, holding onto her wrist.
Basically holding her there, helpless.

She knew she shouldn’t like it, but she
did.

He seemed to
know it too.
He pushed a little more
firmly, so she was flat against the pillar, her face sideways, her
cheek against rough concrete. He pushed his hips against her so she
could feel his cock hard against her back. He kissed her neck, and
held her arm, and she was so turned on she couldn’t
think.

Then he put his hand inside her
underwear.

Beth should
have screamed or jumped or told him to fuck off.
She shouldn’t have let him finger her in a crowded
party.

She should have.

Instead she closed her eyes and pressed her
forehead against the pillar.

It had been a
long time since she’d got any, and he had just the right
touch.
He was barely inside her, parting
her, just bumping down her lips. Gentle and faint and hardly there,
compared to her wrist in her back and his hard body pressed against
her. It made her concentrate on his hand. It made her forget the
rest of the party around them.

She moved her feet a little way apart, so he
could reach.

He went
inside her.
She closed her eyes and
pushed onto him and felt him open her, up inside her. She felt
spread and wet. He was rubbing in time to the music, although he
probably didn’t realize.

She realized
she’d been holding onto the pillar, grabbing it with one hand,
clutching tight against the concrete edge.
She realized she was being rude.

She reached
down, reached back, and did her best to rub him too, to rub him
through his trousers like he was her.
It
seemed to work. His breathing against her neck got
faster.

They stood there and felt each other up and
barely moved.

The music
began to get louder again.
It made her
pulse faster, made her breathing shallow. Music and darkness and
standing here, hidden, made this intimate, made it just them. She
was horny, wet, just tipsy enough to want this. The concrete
scratched her arm as she moved, snagged her hair. She closed her
eyes, and turned her face backwards, and kissed him. She needed
this.

He moved, and
it took her a moment to realize.
He
knelt, pulled her underwear down quickly. Did it without letting go
of her wrist, still pushing her against the pillar. Beth just stood
there, a little disbelieving, impressed he’d pulled that off. He
touched her ankle, and she lifted up her feet so he could get the
undies off. She put her hand down, fingers open, and waved until he
gave her undies to her, then tucked them into her bra. She wasn’t
going to leave her underwear behind with a stranger at a
party.

She wondered
if he was actually going to try and fuck her here, and wasn’t sure
if she minded.
There were people around,
but no-one really clearly in sight, and it was dark, and they were
hidden, and her face was under all her hair, besides.

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