Alpha Suits: Suits & Shades Read online

  I was almost sad that it’d be over soon. We had about a week left before we turned in our final papers, and another week to wait before we got our final grades. I knew I was getting an A: I aced every other assignment, followed the generously free online readings, and I’d finished my paper about a week after we got our syllabus.

  If only all classes were like this. If only it never snowed…

  I couldn’t help thinking of my film professor as I thought that. His class had been a winter one, a late night No Exam, No Problem class with a few reads that racked up just under a hundred bucks in expenses—and I got my books were used. I remembered simmering in my seat the first day, how annoyed I was class would start late. I had to fork up cash for the textbooks this professor couldn’t just post online and they couldn’t even show up to class on time? But it wasn’t just that: I couldn’t stand professors who weren’t punctual. I lived on a tight schedule with an even tighter leash. I didn’t like it when people made me wait.

  Which was why The Professor had been my only exception: tall, dark, handsome, and smart. His smile spaced me out. When he adjusted his glasses and apologized for being late, I almost didn’t hear him ask if anyone needed an outline. I almost wished I hadn’t then, I wouldn’t have heard his sultry voice, that accent. When he shrugged off his coat, I was lost. In his suit—and I would learn, he always wore a suit—with his chiseled charms and broad shoulders, he looked like a centerfold.

  That was one hot winter.

  I’d be lying if I said I was happy when the semester ended, but saying I was sad wasn’t exactly the truth. It was bittersweet, leaving him behind with the rest of my checked credits but secretly wanting more. In the end, I guess I could only be happy with my grade. Still, getting an A didn’t mean getting closure.

  For our final exam, I found myself in his office. Winter was long gone. The city enjoyed a springtime heat wave. The Professor had a fan going and all his windows cranked open. The night before, he handed out our final assignments: an essay on a film and how it fit into a list of topics. There were questions to choose from. He told us to drop by his office if we had other ideas to write about. I showed up that afternoon to pitch mine.

  As we spoke, I noticed his collar crisped apart to bare that strong neck of his. The flesh drifted lower to a rippling expanse. My throat went dry. I wanted to throw myself into the heat, that chest. Even The Professor felt fazed, rigid as he strove to stay straight despite the heat, the awareness. When I left, I tensed. My only consolation was my miserable pride, knowing how well I’d played the part and denied my desires in favor of respectability politics.

  Now, here I was: one semester later and The Professor still ran marathons through my mind.

  Today, I turned in my final paper. I knew it was early but I wanted it off my desk. Plus, the sooner I handed it in, the sooner it could get marked. Not that I was in a rush or anything, I just liked things done. Around me, I caught whiffs of conversation. The rest of the class tittered about how they had yet to start. Some hadn’t even thought about it until now. Shaking my head, I buried myself in my books and waited for class to start.

  Our professor cracked open the door, weighing her notes as she adjusted her sundress.

  “I thought we’d have class outside today,” she popped her head in, “Are we alright with that?”

  Judging from how fast everyone piled out, I guess we were. Everyone was more than happy to go out. Searching for a space to sit, we wandered all the way across campus. No one noticed me lingering behind. I was the shortest, the smallest but when class started, not the quietest. After all, we needed marks for participation. I just had to contribute. When we settled on a patch of grass across the soccer field, I bore that in mind.

  Our professor beamed, “Alright—so, tell me what y’all got out of the readings.”

  At the start of the semester, she’d told us she was a Masters student who taught part-time. She was a long way from wrapping up her thesis but assured us she’d graduate in the fall. If we took another class with her, her qualifications would be fresh off the presses. I liked her too. Unlike the other profs I’d had, she wasn’t stuffy or arrogant. It also didn’t hurt she was closer to our age too. Maybe that was why she could empathize. Whenever we held class, she offered real insight not formal platitudes. I couldn’t help wondering if my other professors had been like that, only to grow into the sanctimonious senates they were today.

  Smiling, she stared in the distance. “Looks like we’re not the only ones who had that bright idea,” she shaded her eyes, “But in this kind of weather, classes belong outside.”

  Chuckling, everyone followed her gaze. All of them smiled as they basked in the sunshine.

  I froze.

  A familiar face flourished in the foliage, sitting at the centre of it all.

  The Professor… I tore my eyes away, scared he might catch me staring—then, I remembered my sunglasses. Their dark, conspicuous lenses framed in red hearts. No one could see what I did or didn’t stare at. As our prof bubbled on, my eyes drifted to The Professor. Swallowing hard, I looked my fill.

  His sleeves were peeled up to his elbows, his collar was open. I bit my lips as I drank in his knuckles, the empathetic gestures of his hands. When his eyes strayed to mine, my cheeks flamed. I didn’t know why I ducked my head. It wasn’t like he could really see me. Even if he could, he wouldn’t know I was looking back.

  “Fallen?” my professor called, “Are you okay?”

  My head sprang to my name. I flushed as I found everyone staring. “Y-Yeah,” I nodded, “I’m fine.”

  “You look kinda hot,” she frowned, “Maybe you should get a drink of water?”

  “The washrooms are just through those doors,” someone volunteered. They nodded to the doors behind The Professor’s class, the doors a few feet away from his bench.

  “No, really,” I tried to smile, “I’m fine.”

  “I think we should end class early today,” our professor quipped, “We pretty much covered everything and I don’t want any of you dying of heatstroke on my watch.”

  I was going to insist I was fine but everyone stood before I could. Now, I had to go through those doors. We all did. Her office was a few flights up. She had our other papers to hand back. I remembered hearing her mention them, that we could pick them up anytime—only to reason that we might as well get them now since we were here.

  Fuck.

  While everyone spilled to follow our professor, I held my breath and crept by. Numbly, I stared ahead. Just thinking about The Professor sweltered my sex and staggered my sense of reason. Now I was a few feet away from him, burning as I fought the urge to take one more look.

  I lost.

  I looked.

  I saw him cross his legs.

  A few breaths longer, I thought I saw something else…

  “Come on, Fallen,” my prof held the door open for me, “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah,” I scurried along, “I’m fine, really.”

  * * * *

  That weekend, I let my hair down. Freshman year destroyed my social life, but by second year, I had my studying habits and workloads under control. But I’d still been pretty much a loner before those things. The more I studied, the more pointless people seemed. All their dramas, their whim and wiles… Life just seemed easier without it.

  It just became a question of what I stood to lose. At what expense would I spare myself the problems? Loneliness was a price I was willing to pay.

  While I fought to find my full potential in university, my friends faded into their favors. Most had kids. Some had husbands. Few had happy homes. The ones who weren’t flaring through families worked miserable jobs with endless hours. Bills broke their banks and in between the scenes, something else broke their spirit.

  As old as we all were, none of us really grew up. More or less, we were flung across some finish line after graduation. When the time came, everyone tossed their hats up and framed their diplomas. We’d made
it, we’d won. We just had yet to see the prize. Some people never would. There was nothing wrong with choosing not to go to university. It was kinda funny how it worked; how people found paradise in whatever they couldn’t have.

  For most of the people I’d left behind, it was university: the prestige, the paycheck that came with a PhD.

  For students like me, it was friends and family: a safety net, a circle of trust and love to wake up to every morning.

  And somehow, we sold ourselves short. Instead of counting our blessings, we griped about our shit deals. But the longer I stayed in university, I’d learn it was more complicated than that. For now, I just wanted to focus on what I had, not what I didn’t. This moment, this sunny state was all I could hold onto.

  As I adjusted my mp3 player, electronic orchestra blared through my headphones. I strove towards the sonata as I walked along. I lost myself in the melody a few songs later. The music drowned out the crunch of my sandals as I hiked further along the trail.

  It was useless.

  No matter how loud or lost I was, The Professor still lingered in the back of my mind as I roved the riverbanks. I thought of his smile, his carved features. The man was a walking disaster, dressed to kill as he cultivated carnality and charisma. Whenever class filled up and I found myself sitting in the front, all I could think of were his hips; their sinuous rhythm as he paced around for his lectures.

  Sometimes, I felt like crying. My sex ached for his. If he wasn’t pacing, he leaned against the board. I couldn’t handle that. When he stood still, things were too clear. I would’ve been a goner if I wasn’t sitting down. I could hardly resist the urge to sink to my knees where I would find his pubis to peck my pleasures. Then, my lips would lick into the strain of cock in his pants…

  The other day left him fresh in my mind. A part of me wanted to see him again, alone—maybe in his office—someplace safe, some time where we were driven by our desires.

  But I couldn’t.

  It had to be one-sided. What I felt for The Professor couldn’t be mutual, as much as I dared to dream.

  And, I was dreaming as I started to remember…

  The End

  ABOUT FALLEN KITTIE

  fallen kittie is a freelance writer and sociologist currently studying existentialism and supernatural folklore. Her characters are avenues in which she collates her own realities and musings upon sexuality within fiction. Midway into her academic career, she started to consider writing as a means to escape the miscellaneous monotonies of her syllabi. Her escape became story bound illicit intimacies and other imaginings. As she continues writing, she cultivates a preference for erotica over the emptiness of the empirical.

  Follow her on Facebook: http://www.fallenkittie.com

  ABOUT IamNOTthere

  IamNOTthere is a photographer from Montréal; he specializes in free-photography, banning the words that describe styles as certain humans reject the tag of the genders. The subject is the fuel of creation and the interest that it triggers in the artist's eye must be followed. Holding hand with his models and creative partners, he jumps barriers of the model or of the society.

  Send inquiries to [email protected]

  Read the rest of the story in the complete, THE FIRST OF FIFTY: SHADES OF LONGING!

  Keeper

  By Marilyn Faith

  I can see Calen coming through the door. He’s dressed in a dark blue suit, accented with a tie that looks to be two to three shades lighter blue. When he’s all suited up, coming from the courthouse makes my panties wet on sight. Calen is a defense attorney whose reputation is take no shit, take no prisoner, from either the law, or his clients motto. He is infallible when it comes to upholding the law. If you lie to him in any way, shape or form he’ll drop you quicker than you can say ‘You work for me! Or objection!’ Because of that strict no bullshit attitude he is respected not only by his peers, but also by his clients, and scary enough, the people who uphold the law: judges, police, as well as other attorneys all around. As he walks in I’m sitting and observing the way his muscular arms and shoulders bulge under his suit. Thinking ‘God how I would love to peel those layers off his body, before I lick him…’ I snapped back to where I am when he plops down on the bar stool beside me. He leans in and kisses me on the cheek. “Hey beautiful, have you been waiting long? Sorry for the suit, didn’t want to keep you waiting by going home to change. ”

  “No problem, I just got here about ten minutes ago.” Drinking him in once more I said “I like the ‘professional’ you. It makes you look…delic….um…I mean attractive. I answer shifting on the stool as I fidget with my long black mane, tucking it behind my ear. Looking around I can see Shark Bar is extremely busy tonight. It’s a Saturday night, so what did I expect? The dance floor is packed and the music is off the chain. Spinning to face Calen, he handed me a Bud Light Lime beer, my usual drink of choice. “Thanks” I say lifting the bottle to my lips, sucking down most of its content in one go. I’m a bit nervous, can you tell?

  “Fucking hell, she found me” escapes Calen mouth, as my eyes landed on his blonde bombshell of an ex-girlfriend sashaying through the sweaty bodies, maneuvering her way over to where we are seated.

  “What is she doing here” I ask, hoping that he didn’t invite her here.

  “I don’t know. I told her I was coming here when I spoke with her earlier. She wanted us to do something and I told her that’s not happening and that I already had plans with you,” he shifts to the side as Bethany stops before him. “There you are” she purred trying to put on an over sexy voice to lure him. “Yep, here I am. What are you doing here Beth? I told you I had plan with Lola, yet here you are.”

  “Oh, hey Lola” she looks at me surprised, as though I wasn’t sitting here, merely inches away from Cal when she walked up. “I didn’t see you there. How have you been?” She asks, trying to stand between Cal’s legs. He knows what she is up to and shifted so she had to stand between his stool and the counter.

  “I was doing better a few minutes ago” I answer sarcastically.

  She never liked me from the get go, jealous of my friendship with Calen. She always had it in her head that there was more to us than we were telling. Even though I’ve had a crush on Calen since I was seventeen, it never went beyond that. So she has no reason to hold our friendship against me. I’ve watched different girls come in and out of his life, but I’ve never interfered. There were times when I thought he was finally seeing me, not only as his best friend but as the girl who wants to more. Each and every time I think this is the day, I’ve been disappointed. Yet here I am seven years later still hoping that day will come.

  “Beth, cut the shit out. Stop trying to feel me up. I’ve told you over three months ago that we were done. I don’t know why you’re here, and frankly I really don’t care. You need to stop blowing up my phone. Stop showing up at the courthouse and for the love of God stop coming to my house” Calen voice snaps me out of my reverie.

  “I’ve missed you.” Bethany hands were resting on his legs, which pissed the shit out of me. He asked me to meet him here and now I have to sit and watch her grope him. Getting up from the seat I was occupying.

  “Where are you going?” he grabs my arm as I make a move to get away.

  “I need to get out of here” I said as I side glance Beth with her hands on him and roll my eyes. Snatching my arm away from him I say, “I’m going to go mingle. Maybe I’ll find someone that doesn’t think my company is boring and wants to take me home.”

  “Fuck no! What the hell are you getting at, Lo?” He’s off the stool, glaring at me with deep rooted anger, or could that look be jealousy. One could only hope, huh? I hope it’s jealousy maybe he’ll finally understand that I’m not going to sit and wait for his ass to see what’s right in front of him any longer. I’m sick of watching him flaunt his harem of women before me, especially this hussy. Six years ago, on my eighteenth birthday, I was too drunk to keep my mouth shut. And in my drunken state, I told him
that I’m in love with him and kissed him. Since then things have gotten a bit weird between us.

  * * * *

  “Fuck!” I say out loud as Lola walked off into the crowd. This is not the way I envisioned this night going. I asked her to meet me here tonight, so that I can finally confess how I really feel about her. I’ve wanted that girl since I was seventeen. I was on the fast track to becoming a lawyer, and on the verge of sounding like a pussy, I’ve been too scared of ruining our friendship; so I’ve kept my feelings to myself.

  “Hey baby, you want us to get outta here? We could go back to my place.” I forgot that Beth was still here until she opens her mouth.

  “Beth I’m not going to keep going over this with you. We’re done. I’ve told you this on numerous occasions, but you choose to play dumb. So let me make myself clear this last time, we are not getting back together; not in this life time or the one after.” Pouting with embarrassment, she drops her hands from my chest.

  I walk off leaving Beth standing there, as I go to find Lola. Rounding the corner, going to the restroom, I saw her standing with her back to some clown as he whispers into her ear. I saw red when I saw that his hands were on her. Walking over, not acknowledging the dude I said, “Here you are babe. I’ve been looking for you.” I pulled her away from the guy and dragged her to the other side of the room.

  “What are you doing, Cal? Aren’t you here with…” before she could finish what she was about to say, I crushed my lips to hers, catching her off guard. I can’t believe I’m finally doing this after all these years of yearning and fantasying. A part of me felt that she would shun me after I didn’t do anything when she told me years ago that she was in love with me, lets’ not mention all the girls she knew I fucked. I was expecting her to tell me it was too late. Instead she is kissing me back. Surprising the shit outta me.