#learning curves

Mark had invited you out again, and things had been going relatively well since Jisung's family vacation. You two had been spending almost every day together.

Today Mark had taken you to the record store that he loved. He showed you his favorite albums and you geeked out over music together. You loved listening to him talk, he always looked so animated as he talked about the things that he loved.

 He bought you a vinyl and when you got back to his place he played it for you. It was a sensual R&B pick that you had been dying to get your hands on. 

Unaware of the sultry atmosphere the song had created, you were sitting on Mark's couch, humming and quietly singing along. The tension in the air was already thick, and the music wasn't helping. Mark listened and watched you, something heavy behind his gaze.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

"I love her voice," he said, his tone so pointed that you almost thought he was talking about you.

Things weren't awkward anymore, but the situation was still excruciating. You'd agreed to keep things casual, yet it was clear he wanted nothing more than to rip your clothes off and you would let him. His hands wandered sometimes, innocently gliding up your inner thigh when you were in the passenger seat of his car, or trailing down your lower back when he pulled you into a hug. Last time, during movie night, you were on his couch, and you could feel how hard he was pressed against your thigh as you cuddled. It felt as if he were testing your will each time, and each time you were close to snapping.

He was alluring, like a magnet, and you couldn't help but be drawn in. He was already sitting too close on the couch, his knee knocking against yours. There was plenty of space for him to move, but he sat suffocatingly close.

“She's really good isn't she,” you stutter under his intense gaze. 

He licks his lips. “I think you would sound sweeter,” his voice drops into a whisper.

Something snaps. He had wound you up too tight and you broke. You lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss. The moment your lips met Mark’s, it was like everything in your world started to align. The music suddenly felt louder, the bass thrumming in your chest, the melody seeping into your bones making you feel sexy and daring. 

His lips were soft and he deepened the kiss as he reciprocated without hesitation. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while the other rested firmly on your thigh, his fingers digging in slightly like he was afraid you’d pull away.

You didn’t. You couldn’t. Not when the tension that had been simmering between you for days— no, weeks. His tongue brushed against yours, and a low groan escaped his throat, sending a shiver down your spine. This was it. The moment you’d both been circling around, pretending it didn’t exist, pretending you could keep things casual. But there was nothing casual about the way his hands roamed your body or the way he kissed you like he was starving.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough, almost a growl. His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he shifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him. you could feel how undeniably hard he was pressed against you. His hips rolled up instinctively, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure if you were warning him or begging him to keep going.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt, fingers splayed across your bare back. His hands slid up, pulling you even closer so your chest was flush against his. His lips moved to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing occasionally, making you squirm in his lap. 

“You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured against your neck, his breath hot and uneven. “Every time I look at you… I can’t fucking think straight.”

His words sent a jolt of heat straight to your core, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up to kiss you again. This time, it was hungrier, more desperate. His fingers grab the hem of your shirt, pushing it up until you break the kiss long enough to pull it off completely. His eyes darkened as he took you in. He was barely holding himself together. 

His hands moved to the button of your jeans, and he paused, his eyes locking with yours. “Tell me you want this.” He practically begged.

“I want this,” you breathed, not even hesitating. “I want you.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. In one swift motion, he unbuttoned your jeans and helped you out of them before tossing them aside. His hands returned to your thighs, squeezing as he pressed another searing kiss to your lips. It's like he was slowly breaking as more time passed, his hands couldn't stay in one place, he couldn't keep his lips off of you and his hips kept bucking up involuntarily. His own shirt followed soon after, discarded carelessly on the floor, and you ran your hands over his chest.

He shifted slightly, lifting you off his lap just long enough to reposition you on the couch, your back against the cushions as he hovered over you. His hands trailed down your body until his fingers finally slipped under the edge of your underwear, you gasped. Your back arches off the cushions.

“So fucking responsive,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. He swallows your moan as his fingers teased you, slowly at first, then with more urgency. His thumb circled your clit and you grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin.

“Mark, please…” you whimpered, your voice breaking. You were so damn close, but he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice firm. His lips trail down over your breasts, your stomach, and then lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down, tossing them aside with the rest of your clothes.

He leaned in, his tongue sliding against you in one long, deliberate stroke. You cried out, your hands fisting in his hair as he worked you with his mouth, licking and sucking until you were writhing beneath him.

“Mark, I can’t—I’m going to—” you gasped, your thighs trembling as the pressure built again, stronger this time. He didn’t stop, his fingers joining his tongue, and when you finally came apart, it was with his name on your lips.

He didn’t give you time to recover. As soon as you came down, he was on you again, his hands sliding under your hips and pulling you down towards him to position himself between your legs. 

“Promise you won’t ghost me after this?” he whispered against your lips.  

Mark's words hung in the air, thick and heavy, as his body pressed into yours, the unspoken tension finally reaching its breaking point. Since the vacation, you had settled things between you two, but it seemed like he was still a little sore from you going silent on him. His lips hovered just above yours and you could see the hurt in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I won’t, I promise.” In one swift motion, he pinned you against the couch, his hands gripping your wrists and holding them above your head.

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy,” he growled, his lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. “Every fucking day, I’ve wanted you like this.” His teeth grazed your collarbone, and you moaned, your hips lifting to grind against him and his length glided through your folds easily, but he didn't slip inside. He smirked against your skin, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, holding you in place as his lips moved lower.

“Mark,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as his mouth closed over your nipple, sucking hard. You arched into him, the sensation sending sparks shooting through your body. He groaned, his hands sliding under your thighs, spreading them wider.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, his fingers sliding through your folds, teasing your entrance. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, he was torturing you, you needed him inside of you, you had waited too long. “I want to hear you beg.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. “Please, Mark,” you begged, your voice a desperate whine. “I need you. Please, fuck me.”

He smirked, his eyes dark with desire. “Good girl,” he purred and lined himself up with your entrance. You held your breath, your body trembling with anticipation, and then he was pushing into you, slow and deliberate, until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your hands gripping the cushions beneath you as he began to move, his thrusts deep and steady. He set a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you, each thrust hitting that perfect spot that had you seeing stars. Your hands tangled in his hair as he continued to thrust into you. 

“I’m going to make you cum so hard,” he murmured, his breathing ragged. “You’re going to scream for me, yea?”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as he fucked you harder, faster, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel it building, the pressure coiling tight in your stomach, and then it was snapping, your body convulsing around him. A hoarse scream rips from your throat.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” His hands hold you in place as he thrust into you one final time, his body tensing as he came with a low, guttural groan.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies pressed together as you both caught your breath. Then, slowly, Mark pulled out of you, his hands gently caressing your skin as he leaned back, his eyes meeting yours. There was a softness in his gaze now, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

“That was…” you started, your voice trailing off as you tried to find the words.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. “We should probably talk about this.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest. “I think we should just keep this… casual,” you said, your voice hesitant. “I mean, we’re both adults, and it’s not like we’re looking for anything serious, right?”

Mark nodded while scratching the back of his neck, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Casual works for me,” he said, voice soft. “I kinda just got out of a relationship, and I’m not really ready to jump into anything serious. But this… this is good.”

You smiled, relief flooding through you as you leaned back against the couch, your body still humming with the aftershocks of what had just happened. “Friends with benefits?” you ask.

"Yes," she answered and, despite herself, the pink at her cheeks deepened.

Dr. Orgia's dark eyebrows quirked upward, that amused smile twitching into a smirk. "And what do you think happens in a sex lab, with an incubus professor and mostly cubare students?"

"Sex, obviously." Martizka  rolled her eyes, ignoring how her cheeks flushed deeper at his teasing tone. Regardless of her embarrassment, she retained her smile. "But during demonstrations, am I paired only with you? Or will there be swapping? In the past, I thought some grad students also did lab assistant work and I thought they worked with the students, mostly."

For as long as she worked at the campus library, there were always new rumors about who met - and started dating - while in Dr. Orgia's Infamous Sex Lab. It was often grad students schmoozing with the undergrads. Though Torsyn was the most sought after "prize" every semester, if Martizka  was a judge of gossip.

"It depends on the subject matter and how many assistants we have on hand that day." Torsyn shrugged his massive shoulders. His smirk had faded a little, though a faint good-natured smile remained curled at the corners of his lps. "When we hit threesomes, foursomes, and orgies, there may be sharing. Are you a jealous one?"

"Not at all, sir," Martizka  laughed, shaking her head. "I just want to know what to expect."

Torsyn was finding that a little hard to believe. Most people who applied for the position of his lab assistant wanted to make sure they were his. "Really."

"Well, admittedly, having sex with college students is a bit weird to me." Her nose wrinkled, though she smiled in an awkward fashion. Besides working with the infamous incubus, Martizka  had agonized over how she felt about sex with the students. With cubare who may pursue jobs in sex work, or any other race that might interact frequently with the cubare, such a class made sense.

At that, Torsyn let loose a belly-deep laugh, briefly leaning forward as if to hide his mirth. "Don't like them younger?"

"Not particularly. I prefer older partners." She shrugged, attempting to ignore how his pleasant laughter had vibrated through her. And the implication in her own words, in front of the obviously older Dr. Orgia. Though, her blush never let up. In fact, it was making the tips of her ears tingle hotly. "But this is for education, not a relationship, so it'll probably be fine."

That easy smile never let up, though his tone did soften with understanding. "There's no shame in stepping down, if you have more emotional ties to sex than you realized when applying."

"I'd like to try before quitting."For some reason, his words made Martikza's spine straighten. As if he was pitying her or offering her an easy way out, though she knew his particular area of study was wrought with confusion between sexual wants and emotional needs.

"Alright." Torsyn decided to briefly relent on the point, instead focusing back on the questioning at hand. "Well, how learned are you when it comes to the carnal arts?"

"I'm sure you saw my résumé, Dr. Orgia," Martiza replied, inclining her head toward him and raising her eyebrows. Though she had applied for a highly sexual position, the thought of talking with her co-worker about her actual experience made her insides squirm a little. His unfazed smile remained in place, as if her point was lost on him. With a sigh, she relented, "I have personal experience with some kinks - specifically light bondage, impact play, and knife play - but I'm also trying many new things out for the first time. I'm more than happy to study up on what I don't have experience with."

When she finished, her eyes finally met Dr. Orgia's again. Logically, him knowing her experience level made sense. He could tailor his approach to her comfort or point her in the direction of references, so she could get to know the topic they'd be covering. Knowing this, it didn't make her flush recede any. His smirk wasn't exactly helping the squirms at her center, either.

"Your inexperience will be good." He'd seen people like Miss Barlow in the past, many-a-time. People who wanted to push their boundaries, wanted to explore their sexuality and kinks. Sometimes, they were good lab assistants. Other times, they stepped down when they realized it wasn't for them. It added another helpful layer to the lessons, at the very least. "It'll show the cubare students how to adequately explain their abilities to non-cubare clients and personal partners. Always ask any questions you have."

"I will." At his words, relief fluttered through her. She worried he'd find her lack of experience disheartening or, even worse, a reason to release her as a lab assistant. Though she certainly found Dr. Orgia attractive, she mostly wanted the experience the lab offered. Still, with the relaxing of her shoulders, she managed a mild flirtation. "Otherwise, I'll leave myself in your capable hands."

Playfully, Dr. Orgia raised his hand to his chin, looking Martizka up and down in mock-assessment. He took his time, letting his gaze linger at obvious points of interest. "Yes, you will certainly be a couple handfuls."

Her lips twisted into a wry smile, an eyebrow raising. "Was that a joke about my tits or my ass, sir?"

"It would be criminal to make me pick, Miss Barlow." Torsyn pushed himself from the desk, closing the distance between himself and his new assistant. He noticed her shoulders raise a little as he neared. "Are you nervous?"

"A little." She couldn't bring herself to look at him directly. With Torsyn standing before her, their size difference was flagrant. And that sent a not-entirely-unexpected thrill through her. Likely, he was enjoying himself too, knowing his incubus abilities allowed him to sense he was riling her up. "You're kind of a big deal on campus."

"I'm well-aware." Another chuckle came from him, this time with a little wry smile of his own. Admiration and interest was pretty much a workplace hazard that Torsyn accepted a long time ago, regardless where he worked. "And you used to work in the library, if memory recalls. I'm sure you've heard plenty about me there."

"I still work there." From the  corner of her eye, she watched Dr. Orgia skirt around her, her heart pounding as she wondered what his game was now. It wasn't that Martizka was concerned he'd do anything terrible. But she was curious. Her mouth continued to explain as her senses stood alert. "Since I'm still essentially working through the university, the library is being flexible with my hours."

"Ah," Torsyn hummed, noncommittally. Martizka jumped as he gathered her teal-green curls back, behind her neck, and gently flicked at one of her dangly skeleton earrings. He took great pains to not touch her directly, even with a brush of his fingertips. "Nice earrings, but you should remove them before the lab."

"I was planning to." She wasn't exactly sure what Dr. Orgia was doing. He stood close enough for her to feel his body heat, though being one of the Infernal variety he ran hotter than most. But it wasn't close enough for their bodies to graze.

Torsyn nodded, stooping low enough so his lips were ear-level to Martizka. Though, once again, he took care to not directly touch her skin. "Good girl."

At first, his hot breath played over her ear, making Maritkza shiver. But when his words registered, she gave a huff of a laugh.

"What?" He asked, watching her back carefully. Getting a grasp on what kind of person Miss Barlow was proved a little more difficult than he had anticipated. Perhaps he was just getting too old to read people successfully any more. Or perhaps she wasn't entirely interested in this position to get to him.

"You might be older than me," Maritzka started, finally daring to look over her shoulder at him. Given how close he loomed over her, she took care to not bash her face into his, which still remained at her ear-level. Heat licked down her back, getting visual confirmation on how close he was - near enough to kiss or touch - to her. Inadvertently, a breathiness entered her tone, "But I'm definitely not a girl."

Torsyn stared at her for a quiet beat. With as much as she was blushing, he had been certain she'd be rather submissive. But she hadn't made any attempts to lean into his almost-touches nor had she turned fully toward him. She only deigned to look over her shoulder at him, her voice dipping seductively.

"Oooh, you're one of those sorts," he chuckled, once he managed to suss out the vibrations in the air. Vibrations that only cubare could really feel.

"I'm one of what sorts?" A tinge of delighted incredulity lit up in Maritzka's voice.

A wide toothy smile split across Torsyn's lips again, making Maritzka's insides clench hotly. However, this time there was a hint of challenge in his tone. "A brat."

That made Martizka fully turn, her hair splaying out and grazing Dr. Orgia as she did so.

Her wide eyes - caught between shock and mild agitation - shot to his face, watching with burning cheeks as his smirk broadened. "Excuse me?"

Of course, she knew what a brat was in the kink world. But the way he said it, with such a shit-eating grin, razed something along her spine. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling.

"You're testing the limits of what's acceptable." Torsyn took a half-step back, standing at his full height once more and giving a careless shrug.

"Oh, am I now?" Martizka narrowed her eyes, her hand landing on her hip, but she was too entertained to be or sound angry. He seemed to think he had her down pat. She would have said she was simply getting her footing on unfamiliar ground with someone she didn't know quite as well as she'd like. Testing and exploring the terrain, as it were.

"Yes." One word, matter-of-fact and confident.