Mr. Murphy's Mattress

v. Plead The Fifth

"What's that?" Cillian asked, dumbfounded.

"It's like a saying— you know what, never mind." You leaned your head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Lolita, tell me your feelings for me," he said quietly, squeezing your waist.

"I'm scared," you admitted. "That's how I feel."

"Scared? Why?"

"Because I have these feelings and I don't want to have these feelings," you rambled.

"Describe these feelings," Cillian said as if he were a therapist.

"I had a crush on you since the night we talked about books," you mumbled. "And I didn't want to accept I liked you, my teacher. Sometimes, the only thing on my mind is that night."

"It's all I think about," Cillian added. "You're all I think about."

"You sound like an indie romance movie, shut up," you groaned, giggling after.

"So then, what are we?" He asked, looking into your eyes. You looked away. Not because you didn't wanna look at him, but because those damn blue eyes were brighter than the sky.

"Student and teacher," you said, grinning. "And nothing more. You know this, Cillian."

"That's Mr. Murphy to you, then." He closed his eyes and slightly jolted when he felt your lips on his neck.

"Mr. Murphy," you whispered. "You didn't let me finish." Your hands roamed his body before finding themselves at his belt, fiddling with it before slipping it off.

He watched you closely, leaning his head back to give you room. His eyes widened once he felt your soft hand sliding down his boxers, feeling him out. Your lips pressed against his ear, whispering, "It's as big as I remember."

You felt him grow harder at that, causing you to giggle. As you stroked him slowly, his groans made you giggle even more. "Shut up," he muttered under his breath, loosening his tie.

Pushing your hand up and down on his length made your panties a little wet, and Cillian's fingers were already traveling there to feel you.

When your hand was still wrapped around him underneath his boxers, the front door suddenly opened. "Fuck," you whispered, his dick still rested in your hand.

It was Scarlet. She stared at you two before a smirk grew on her face, and she ran off to her bedroom.

"I told you she wouldn't care," you whispered, pulling your hand away from him.

"You can't just leave me hard—"

"And you can't just leave me without a word when I tell you that we can't be together."

He stared at you. "Just finish me up, please," he mumbled.

"Finish yourself," you scoffed. You got off his leg and sat next to him, your hand on his knee.

He put his hand on top of yours. "You don't know how crazy this is making me."

"I'm giving you a place to sleep, Cillian, while you divorce your wife."

"Woah, who said I'm divorcing—" Cillian looked at you and saw that you were fully serious.

"If you wanna be with me, divorce her. If you wanna mess around with me, stay with her."

"Well if I leave her, you must marry me."

"I'm not doing that," you laughed. "No."

"We will get eloped," he started.

"I'm not marrying you. We barely even know if we like each other enough."

"So why should I divorce my wife then, for us to be together?" He looked you dead in the eyes, waiting for a response that never came.

You took your hand off his knee and crossed your arms. "Throw your whole life away for a twenty year-old college student," you mumbled. "Aren't you forty seven?"

"Throw your whole future away for your college professor," he said, crossing his arms as well.

"Are you mocking me?" You asked, turning to look at him. He turned his head to you and you couldn't help but notice a smirk growing on his face. "Fuck you," you laughed, shoving him.

Soon enough, you were on top of him, holding his wrists down. "Say sorry, say it," you giggled while he shook his head. "Come on, say it!" You squeezed your nails into his wrists.

"Ouch, fuck! I'm sorry!" He cried out, and you dropped your hands from his wrists. The two of you chuckled some more, Cillian wincing from the pain of your sharp nails in his skin.

Cillian pulled your head into his chest and rubbed it. "Are you still switching schools?" You asked, playing with his shirt.

"Yes," he sighed.

"But what about us?" You looked up at him and brushed his hair off of his face.

Cillian stroked your cheek. "I don't know," he whispered. "Would you like me to stay?"

"No," you said firmly. "I want you to do your job without me getting in the way."

"I can't do any job without you." Cillian sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Move in with me."

"What?" You sat up and stared at him. "Don't fuck with me."

"I'm serious." Cillian looked at you. "Why live the life your parents want when you can live the life you want?"

"I have to finish college." You cupped his face. "Stay. Be my professor. I'll stay after class with you and we can do whatever you want."

Cillian nodded. "Let's head to bed," he whispered. He carried you to your bedroom and helped you get undressed, before laying you down.

"I don't know if this is the right thing," you mumbled, watching as Cillian climbed in with you.

"You're the right person, that's all I know," Cillian said, admiring your beauty.

You nodded in agreement and kissed his head before slowly falling asleep on his chest.