The monotonous hum of the classroom was a sound Rudel knew all too well. The chalk hitting the blackboard, the distant whisper of a pair of girls sharing secrets, the barely concealed snore of someone who had already succumbed to boredom. But his attention was miles away, focused on the illuminated screen of his phone, hidden strategically behind the pile of textbooks.
The app in question showed a discreet icon: a silhouette of two people joined by a stylized heart. "Private Encounter," read the name. A digital space designed specifically for discreet connections, where age, profession, and personal circumstances could be blurred behind carefully curated avatars and descriptions.
Rudel, at his newly turned seventeen, had taken the step driven by a curiosity his peers would hardly understand. While they whispered about which first-year girl was hottest or fantasized about pop idols, he was drawn to something different, something with more weight, more experience… more curves.
(A mature woman… someone who knows what she wants. Who has stories to tell, not just hallway school dramas. That's what's interesting.)
His profile was simple: "Serious young university student, intellectual interests, appreciates deep conversation and quiet company." A half-truth that served as bait. And it had worked. Three weeks ago, the algorithm had "matched" him with a profile named "Enigmatic_Lady." Her profile picture was an elegant shot of a steaming teacup on an open book, no face. Her description: "Someone who remembers what youth was like, but values the calm of the years. Seeks sincere conversation, maybe something more."
The chat had been, until now, a dance of caution. Conversations about books, about the strange weather this season, about the frustration of daily responsibilities. Rudel enjoyed the anonymity, the possibility that on the other side there was really an interesting woman, not a troll or a scammer. But the doubt was always there, nagging.
"Ouch!"
A solid, sudden impact on the crown of his head violently pulled him from his digital thoughts. The pain was sharp and momentary, followed by a wave of heat in his ears.
"Rudel-kun," a voice, melodious but laden with icy authority. "Does the phone have answers for the analysis of the country's ancient period, or should you pay attention to the person trying to enlighten you about it at the blackboard?"
Looking up, the world came into focus in an image that, despite the blow, never failed to accelerate his pulse. There stood Professor Lecia, upright next to him, looking at him fixedly with disappointment. She wore a navy blue pantsuit, a deep lapis lazuli shade that seemed made to highlight the impeccable whiteness of her silk blouse. The jacket, closed with a single button, strained gloriously and almost miraculously over the wide curve of her breasts, a generous and perfectly contained silhouette that defied the laws of physics and tailoring. Her waist, remarkably slender in comparison, was marked with a thin belt before the skirt, snug, widened again over wide and powerful hips. Her face, with sharp, serious features, light glasses frames, and lips painted a discreet red, looked at him with a mix of exasperation and disappointment.
"I-I'm sorry, Professor Lecia," he stammered, hiding the phone as if it were an explosive device. "I… I got distracted."
A purr of mocking laughter came from the next seat. Liam, his companion since kindergarten and owner of a smile always on the verge of a sarcastic smirk, watched the scene with delight.
"Distracted is an understatement, Rudel. You seemed in a trance. Dreaming about your virtual girlfriend again?" he whispered, loud enough for only him and a couple others to hear.
Lecia didn't seem to catch the comment, or perhaps decided to ignore it. With one last significant tap of the textbook she still held, she pivoted on her stiletto heels and returned to the front of the class, her figure retreating with a hypnotic sway of hips that Rudel couldn't help but follow with his gaze, completely forgetting the pain.
◇◇◇
Recess found Rudel in the courtyard, surrounded by his small circle of friends. Liam, still laughing, was repeating the story of the textbook blow for the third time.
"And the sound! It was like when you split a watermelon in two! Crack!"
"Shut up, Liam," growled Rudel, still rubbing the top of his head. "It's not that bad."
"The issue," interjected Liam, nibbling on a bread roll, "is what the hell you were so into. You've become a ghost lately."
Rudel hesitated. The temptation to share his small, forbidden digital experiment was strong. Finally, shrugging, he blurted out:
"I was… checking out an app. A dating app."
The silence that followed was brief but charged. Then they erupted.
"Dating!?" exclaimed Liam. "Since when does the great loner Rudel care about that? Do you finally like someone from the institute? Is it Lucy? I've seen you looking at her!"
"It's no one from the institute," Rudel responded, feeling strangely defensive. "And she's not… a girl our age, precisely."
The confession fell like a bomb. His friends' eyes widened like plates.
"Wait, wait," said Liam, setting aside his mocking attitude for an instant. "Are you saying you're after a… lady?"
"Mature woman," corrected Rudel, with more firmness than he felt. "Someone with… more world experience. I'm not interested in girls who only talk about fashion or which idol group is better. It's boring."
His friends looked at each other, incredulous.
"That's… weird, Rudel. Sorry, but it's weird," Liam pronounced.
"Not that much," he replied, the most pragmatic of the group. "To each their own."
"But on those apps… are you sure they're real ladies? They could be creepy old men in disguise, or scammers. You have to be careful."
"I know," Rudel admitted. "That's why I haven't gone past texting. But if it were real… if there were a real woman on the other side, interested…"
A slow smile spread across Liam's face. He had that look, the one that announced he was about to drop a bomb.
"Speaking of ladies… if you really want an experience with a mature woman, the ideal candidate would be under my own roof."
They all looked at Liam, confused.
"Your mom?" asked Rudel, arching an eyebrow.
"The very same," Liam nodded, with a theatrical gesture. "She's been divorced from my dad for like… five years? He made it tough on her, the bastard. But since then, she's been in 'work mode'. Says she's not interested in dates, romance, none of that. Just her work and, I guess, making my life impossible."
"But your mom is… Professor Lecia," said a friend, looking at him weirdly, as if Liam needed reminding.
"Exactly! The fearsome Professor Lecia, the woman who can obliterate you with a look and split your skull with a history book," Liam exclaimed, laughing. "Can you imagine her on a dating app? Writing flirtations? Please! It'd be like seeing a tiger asking for a belly rub."
Rudel felt a strange pang in his stomach hearing the description. The image of Lecia, his real-life Lecia, the one in the lapis lazuli skirt and red lips, superimposed for an instant with the "Enigmatic_Lady" on the screen. The idea was so absurd it almost made him laugh.
"But hey," another friend chimed in, playing with the idea. "Let's say, hypothetically, she did. That fierce look hid a woman… I don't know, lonely. Who longed for a bit of attention, romance. And on top of that, with someone younger… Now that would be a twist!"
"It'd be straight out of a hentai, buddy," concluded Liam, shaking his head. "And no, it's not possible. First, because my mother is… well, to me she's my mom. And second, because, even if she weren't, I assure you she's not the type of woman who attracts looks on the street. She's… severe. Intimidating."
(If you say so, Liam.)
Thought Rudel, while the image of Lecia's breasts straining the fabric of her blouse slipped into his mind again. But he said nothing.
"Well, in any case," said Liam, "Rudel, be careful. Don't end up sending money to some guy named Bob who lives in a garage."
The bell announced the end of recess, cutting off the conversation. Rudel remained silent the rest of the day, but the seed of the most outrageous idea had been planted, and it was beginning to take root in the deepest part of his imagination.
◇◇◇
The Bradford house that night was a hive of chaotic activity. Rudel's mother ran back and forth with a pile of clothes, while his father checked the family car's oil for the fifth time.
"Paula, don't forget your ballet slippers!" the mother shouted towards the stairs.
"I already have them, Mom!" came the high-pitched voice of his twelve-year-old younger sister.
Rudel watched from the kitchen door, trying to go unnoticed. His family was preparing for a weekend trip; Paula had an important rhythmic gymnastics championship two cities away, and his parents would accompany her. His two older brothers, Lyle and Bram, were on extra shifts at their respective jobs and wouldn't return until Monday night.
"Rudel, dear," said his mother, stopping in front of him with her hands on her hips. "You're in charge. You know: don't order the service guys around, no parties, and for God's sake, keep the volume of the TV and… other things… at a decent level. We don't want to repeat the 'incident' of the horror movie at midnight last summer, right?"
Rudel's face flushed immediately. The "incident" involved a particularly intense movie, some state-of-the-art speakers Bram had left him, and the neighbor across the street calling the police over what she heard.
"It was once," he murmured, looking at the floor. "And I didn't imagine they were connected."
"Enough for the neighbors to think we had a pervert in the house," grumbled his father, passing by him with a suitcase. "Behavior, son. This weekend, be a responsible adult."
"Yes, sir," nodded Rudel, but inside, a plan was beginning to take shape. An empty house. A whole weekend. No parents, no siblings, no interruptions… It was the perfect opportunity. If he was ever going to take the next step with "Enigmatic_Lady," this was the moment.
Minutes later, with goodbye kisses given and the family car driving away down the street, Rudel found himself alone in the sudden silence of the house. The feeling was strange, powerful. It was his, all the space. He took a deep breath and ran up to his room, locking the door.
He took out his phone. The "Private Encounter" icon seemed to glow with a new promise. There was a pending message. With slightly trembling fingers, he opened it.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: Good evening, dear. An exhausting day is coming to an end. How are you?
[Rudy_Serious]: Hello. A bit overwhelmed, truth be told. My family went on a trip, left me alone in charge of the castle. Feels like freedom, but it feels… big.
Their conversations had evolved. From timid "hellos" and banal topics, they had moved on to sharing small fragments of their days. Rudel told her about study pressure (omitting they were high school studies), his frustration with his brothers (no names), his love for classic cinema. She told him about the stress of her office job (the cover she used), the difficulty of balancing work and personal life, how lonely it could sometimes be to come home to an empty house.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: Sounds like a big responsibility. But also an opportunity. A breather. I also had one of those draining days today. I had to reprimand a student who wasn't paying the slightest attention.
Rudel stopped. A strange chill, an impossible coincidence, ran down his spine.
[Rudy_Serious]: A student? Do you give private lessons?
There was a longer pause than usual. Rudel held his breath.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: Something like that. Private lessons for final-year youths. This one in particular was more interested in his phone than in the lesson. I gave him a little tap on the head with my book to get him to react. I hope I didn't hurt him, truth be told, I got carried away by frustration.
A little tap with my book.
Final year.
Today.
Rudel's heart began to hammer against his ribs with a force that hurt. No. It couldn't be. It was a monumental coincidence, a twist of fate so absurd it only existed in bad movies. But… Professor Lecia had taught third-year class today. And had hit him on the head with a book. He was the only one that had happened to all day, he knew it.
With hands that now trembled for real, he wrote.
[Rudy_Serious]: Sounds tough. What subject do you teach?
Another pause. Long, eternal.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: History. Boring for most, I know.
History.
Rudel let out a choked gasp. The classroom came crashing down on him. The scent of Lecia's discreet perfume, the sound of her heels, the glorious strain of her blouse… and this woman, in the chat, with whom he had shared confidences, virtual laughter, even the occasional mild innuendo.
He had to be sure. He couldn't risk scaring her, making her disappear. But he needed proof. An act of faith.
[Rudy_Serious]: Must be difficult. I admire you. Hey… I know this is sudden. But I'm alone this weekend. The house is empty, silent, safe. We could… meet. In person. A coffee, something simple. To see if the chat chemistry exists in real life.
The tremor in his hands was uncontrollable. He was playing Russian roulette with his own reality.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: Rudy… that's very fast. I don't know…
[Rudy_Serious]: Please. Just one date. A public, discreet place. We can go to "The Sleeping Pan," that family restaurant in the commercial district. It's cozy, anonymous. If there's no connection, we shake hands and each go our own way. But if there is… the weekend is long.
There was a silence that stretched for minutes. Rudel thought he had lost her. That he had pushed too hard, that the fantasy had broken.
Then, the response came. It wasn't a text.
It was a photo.
It didn't show her face. It was an angle from above, centered on a deep neckline. The skin was pale, smooth. The fabric was ivory-colored silk, barely containing an abundance of soft, generous flesh, divided by a deep shadow that made his mouth water. The fabric strained in a terribly familiar way. In the background, almost out of focus, was the tip of a garnet-colored wool scarf that seemed vaguely familiar to him.
[Enigmatic_Lady]: So you don't think I'm a bearded old man. This is me. From today. If you really want to see me… I'll be at "The Sleeping Pan." Saturday at 3 PM. I'll wear a simple black dress and a beige coat. Don't look for me with your eyes. I will find you. Tell me what you'll wear.
Rudel looked at the photo, then at the emptiness of his room. His mind made an instant, definitive connection. The ivory silk blouse. The garnet scarf. He had seen it today, in the classroom, when Lecia bent over to pick up a marker she dropped. It was the same. There was no doubt.
An instant, painful erection swelled his pants. It was true. The absurd miracle, the hentai twist Liam joked about, was happening. Professor Lecia, the fearsome, the unattainable, the owner of the most sublime chest curve he had ever seen, was "Enigmatic_Lady." And she had agreed to see him.
With a trembling hand, he replied.
[Rudy_Serious]: I'll sit at the back table, the one next to the ridiculous samurai pancake painting. I'll wear a gray hooded sweatshirt, from the institute's basketball team. Faded blue jeans. I'll be waiting for you.
He turned off the phone and fell back on his bed, looking at the ceiling. A huge smile, of pure wonder and euphoria, spread across his face. The weekend ahead promised to be, without a doubt, the grandest of his life.
◇◇◇
"The Sleeping Pan" smelled of maple syrup, cooked batter, and freshly brewed coffee. The place was half-full, with the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of cups. Rudel arrived ten minutes early, his gray sweatshirt with the "Hawks" logo perfectly visible. He went straight to the back table, the one presided over by a painting showing a pancake with a katana stuck in it, fighting evil-eyed waffles.
He sat facing the entrance, his heart beating like a war drum. Every time the door opened, his stomach flipped. He saw black dresses, beige coats, but it wasn't her. He checked his watch over and over, breaking out in a cold sweat.
(What if she doesn't come? What if she changes her mind? What if this has all been an elaborate joke by Liam?)
Then, the door opened again. And the world stopped.
A woman entered. A long-sleeved black dress, fitted to the hips and then flaring into a skirt that ended just above the knees. Simple, elegant. An open beige trench coat over it. Low-heeled shoes. And the face… serious, beautiful, with tortoiseshell glasses and hair pulled back in an impeccable bun.
It was Professor Lecia. But not the Professor Lecia from the classroom. This version had a touch of blush, lips painted a softer red, and an expression of nervous anticipation he had never seen on her before.
Her eyes scanned the place, passing over him at first, then returning. They fixed on the gray sweatshirt. On his face. For a second, nothing happened. Then, her eyes, those blue, penetrating eyes, widened in an almost comical way. All color drained from her face, leaving her pale as wax. Her mouth, slightly parted, formed a silent "O" of pure and absolute horror.
Rudel held her gaze. He didn't smile, didn't make a gesture. He just looked at her, allowing the reality to settle, heavy and undeniable, between them.
Lecia turned on her heel. It was a brusque, instinctive movement. She was going to flee.
Rudel stood up so fast the chair screeched against the floor. In three long strides he reached her by the door, taking her gently by the arm over her coat.
"We agreed to meet here," he said, his voice much calmer than he felt. "The samurai pancake table."
She shuddered under his touch, as if she'd been shocked. She looked at him, and in her eyes there was a whirlwind: panic, disbelief, shame, and something else, something deep and dark he couldn't identify.
"You… you can't be…" she managed to articulate, her voice barely a hoarse whisper.
"But I am," Rudel responded, not letting go. "Rudy_Serious. And you are Enigmatic_Lady. We're already here. Shall we have something? As agreed."
The internal struggle on Lecia's face was palpable. For a moment, Rudel thought she would struggle, scream, make a scene. But then, her shoulders, which were tense like violin strings, sank a little. A flash of resignation, mixed with that same curiosity that had brought them there, shone in her gaze. She nodded, an almost imperceptible movement.
They returned to the table in silence. Rudel ordered two Americanos. When the waitress left, the silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
"This is… I don't even know where to start," said Rudel, breaking the ice. He tried to sound calm, but his pulse still echoed in his ears. "It's… incredible. I never, in a million years, would have imagined it."
Lecia didn't touch her cup. She fiddled with the spoon, staring fixedly at the wooden table.
"Neither would I," she finally whispered. Her professor's voice, the one she used to give orders, had disappeared. This voice was softer, more vulnerable. "This is a terrible mistake. A catastrophic mistake."
"Why?" asked Rudel, leaning forward a little. "Because I'm your student? Because I'm Liam's friend?"
She quickly looked up at the mention of her son's name, and the blush that rose up her neck was telling.
"Because of all that!" she exclaimed in a forced whisper, lowering her voice again. "This shouldn't be happening. I… I went on that app out of pure stupid curiosity. After the divorce… my husband made it very clear that what no longer attracted him was… me. My body, my attitude, everything. I spent years feeling invisible, like furniture. Then, when I tried to go out again, men my age were only looking for young girls, or there was no spark. The app was a whim, a way to see if… if I could still appeal to someone. And you appeared, my first match."
"You were my first match too," Rudel confessed. "And since then, I didn't want to talk to anyone else. I was afraid you were a fraud, but… there was something in the way you wrote."
"I was afraid too," she admitted, finally looking up to meet his eyes. "But it was fun. Talking to you, sharing things… made me feel alive in a way I had forgotten. And when you asked for that photo… that part of me, the part that has felt so unwanted, wanted… to prove it could still arouse something. That's why I sent it. It was selfish, stupid…"
"It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen," Rudel interrupted, with a sincerity that made her hold her breath. "And now, seeing you here, in person… is even better."
Lecia covered her face with her hands for a moment, a gesture of deep frustration.
"I have to go. This can't go on. You're my student, Rudel-kun. And my son's best friend. The person I tutor at an academy, for God's sake."
"Not anymore," said Rudel, with a firmness that surprised her. "It's true I lied, but now that I have you in front of me I want to be honest. And about Liam… I never imagined it. I haven't been to his house for years, precisely because of this."
She lowered her hands, looking at him in confusion.
"Because of… this?"
"I'm in love with you," Rudel blurted out, and the words, once said, sounded so true and heavy they could almost be touched. "Since sophomore year. Since the first time I saw you lead the debate club. You were so confident, so intelligent, so… imposing. And beautiful. In a way no girl my age is. I stopped going to Liam's house because I couldn't be near you without it being noticeable that I saw you every day, without my thoughts becoming… inappropriate. So, for me, this isn't a mistake. It's a dream come true. A weird, twisted dream, but a dream nonetheless."
Lecia stared at him, her mouth slightly open. The blush on her cheeks was intense.
"You're seventeen," she said, but her voice lacked the earlier conviction.
"Seventeen and a half. Legally an adult in many ways," Rudel replied. "And my feelings have nothing to do with a number. They have to do with the woman I've been chatting with for weeks, and with the professor I've admired for years. They're the same person. And it drives me crazy."
He paused, taking a breath.
"But it all depends on you, Professor Lecia. If you want to get up and leave, I won't stop you. We'll delete the app, forget this coffee. We'll go back to being professor and student, and nothing more. But if… if some of what we felt in the chat is real here, outside the screen… then give me a chance. Give me a real date."
The battle in Lecia's eyes was epic. She saw reason, duty, fear of scandal. But she also saw, clearly, the loneliness of recent years, the desire to be desired, and the genuine attraction that had bloomed between the lines of text. Rudel wasn't a child. He was tall, good-looking, serious. And he looked at her as if she were the only woman in the universe.
"A date," she repeated, as if testing the word. "Just one. And under my conditions."
"Whatever they are," said Rudel, a spark of hope igniting in his chest.
"No contact in public. No holding hands, no kisses, no… groping. This is a test. To see if this is more than… teenage heat and middle-aged loneliness."
"Accepted," Rudel nodded immediately.
"And if, after today, I decide this is madness, we end it. Forever. No reproaches."
"Accepted."
Lecia observed his determined face for a long moment. Finally, with a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her being, she nodded.
"Very well. One date. What do you propose, Rudel-kun?"
◇◇◇
The "date" was, in Lecia's words later, "pleasantly youthful." Rudel, knowing he couldn't impress her with expensive dinners (and having no money for them), opted for a simple plan.
They went to a modern art gallery with a free exhibition, then took a long walk by the river park, and ended up at a small street fair where they ate takoyaki from a stall and laughed when Rudel burned his tongue.
Throughout the afternoon, the initial tension faded. They talked about art, about books they had both mentioned in the chat, about music. Rudel discovered that Lecia, outside the classroom, had a deliciously dry, sarcastic sense of humor, and a soft, contagious laugh she rarely showed at the institute. She, for her part, discovered that Rudel was much more mature and cultured than his age suggested, and that his admiration for her was genuine, not a simple hormonal fascination with her body, though she noticed, without being able to help it, that his eyes lingered on her neckline or the curve of her hips whenever she moved, which made her feel an embarrassed warmth and, secretly, very flattered.
As night fell, they found themselves standing under the dim light of the train stop, the place where they were to part.
"Well," said Lecia, adjusting the collar of her coat. "That was… surprisingly pleasant. For youthful activities."
"I'm sorry I can't take you to an adult dinner with wine and linen tablecloths," said Rudel with a half-smile.
"Adult dinners are pretentious and boring," she replied, looking into the distance. "I fell in love with my ex-husband because he seemed so adult, so established, so… secure. And now I understand I fell in love with an idea, not a person. And I suffered for that same idea when he stopped finding the reality of me attractive."
Her voice had a note of bitterness that broke Rudel's heart.
"That's exactly why," she said, turning to look at him, "I feel that this, us, is just another mistake. A nice one-day mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. I should never have left the anonymity of the chat. We should leave it here, Rudel-kun. Before we hurt someone. Liam, you… me."
Rudel felt the ground open beneath his feet. He had felt her relax, enjoy. Was it just politeness?
"It's not a mistake," he said, and his voice sounded harsher than he intended. "What I felt today was real. The connection is real. It's not just heat, Professor Lecia. It's… interest. A deep interest in the person you are. I know you, the strict professor, and I know you, the woman who writes to me at night and laughs when I burn my mouth. And I like both. I want both."
She looked at him, and in her eyes he saw the struggle again. The fear.
"I'm thirty-two, Rudel-kun. When you're thirty, I'll be fifty. Do you think I'll still interest you then? When I have wrinkles, when my body is no longer… this?" She made a vague gesture towards herself, a gesture that nonetheless highlighted the splendid curve of her breasts against the dress fabric.
"If the only thing that interested me about you was your body, I would have tried something stupid years ago," Rudel replied calmly. "I admire you for your mind, your strength, your laugh. Your body is… an added miracle, and yes, I desire it. A lot. But it's not the foundation. If you believe it is, if you believe this is just a passing whim for me, then yes, go. Take the train now. I won't stop you."
Instead, he did something that took her breath away. He knelt, right there on the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlight, in front of her. It wasn't a posture of submission, but of firm proposition.
"But if you believe there's a chance, however small, that this is real… then give me the opportunity to prove it. Not as your student. Not as Liam's friend. As a man. Be my girlfriend."
The word "girlfriend" floated in the cold night air. Lecia felt the world spin. She remembered, with painful clarity, how it had been her who had asked her then-boyfriend to be her husband. How it had all been a social calculation, family pressure after an unexpected pregnancy. No one had ever asked her to be their girlfriend like that, with that pure, honest intensity.
This was wrong. It was a monumental risk. It could destroy her career, her relationship with her son, her reputation. But looking at Rudel kneeling, with those black eyes full of a determination and affection she hadn't seen in anyone in years, something inside her, something that had been asleep and thirsty for too long, stirred and stood up.
Prudence screamed at her to flee. Her heart, that organ she had distrusted for years, whispered to take the risk.
"I remember," she said, and her voice was only a thread of sound, "you said your house would be empty this weekend."
Rudel held his breath. He nodded, unable to speak.
Lecia extended her hand, not to help him up, but for him to take it. A small, but monumental gesture.
"Then… take me there."
◇◇◇
The walk from the train stop to Rudel's house was made in a charged silence. Their hands remained intertwined, an electric and forbidden contact neither was willing to break. Rudel unlocked the door, and the silent darkness of the house welcomed them.
Once inside, with the door closed behind them, the reality of the situation seemed to pounce on Lecia. She let go of his hand and brought her fingers to her temples.
"My God, what am I doing?" she murmured, her voice trembling. "I need… I need tea. Can I make tea? Do you have any?"
"Sure," said Rudel, turning on the dim lights of the foyer. "The kitchen is in the back. I… need to go to the bathroom for a moment."
It was a silly excuse, but he needed a second to compose himself, to calm the whirlwind in his chest. She nodded and headed to the kitchen, while he went upstairs.
When he returned to the main hallway a short while later, Rudel noticed the door to his room on the first floor was ajar. He approached, his heart in his throat. Lecia was there, standing by his desk. In her hands she held a small hardcover photo album that Rudel recognized instantly. He felt panic stab through him like a knife.
She had found it.
Lecia turned a page slowly. Each sheet was full of clippings, color and black-and-white prints. All of them were of her. One, taken in profile during the school festival, laughing. Another, concentrating while writing on the blackboard, the silhouette of her breasts clearly defined against the window light. Another, from a field trip, in casual clothes. There were no inappropriate photos, nothing that crossed the line into sickness, but it was, undoubtedly, the collection of an obsessive admirer.
Rudel waited for the scream, the accusation, the flight.
Instead, Lecia looked up at him. Her eyes showed no horror, no anger. They showed… a deep understanding, and something that seemed close to shock.
"All these years," she said, her voice soft as silk. "All this… attention."
"I'm sorry," Rudel managed to say, his face burning with shame. "It's… it's pathetic, I know."
"No," she denied, closing the album carefully and leaving it on the desk. "It's… intense. Terrifying, even. But it's also… incredibly flattering. No one… no one has ever looked at me like that. Never."
She approached him, slowly. There was no longer any distance of professor and student. There was only a woman and a man, in a darkened room.
"You said you knew me," she whispered. "This proves it. In a way that scares me, but… also convinces me."
Rudel didn't dare move. She was now only centimeters away, and the perfume she wore, something floral and deep, enveloped him.
"And the promise?" he asked, referring to his request for her to be his girlfriend.
Lecia didn't respond with words. Instead, she brought her hands to the first button of her beige coat. She undid it. Then the second. The coat opened, revealing the fitted black dress. Without breaking eye contact, she took it off and let it fall softly over the back of the computer chair.
"The promise," she said, while her fingers found the side zipper of the dress, "is made by a girlfriend to her boyfriend. And a girlfriend… starts her relationship in her boyfriend's room."
The sound of the zipper opening was the most erotic sound Rudel had ever heard. The black dress slid over her shoulders, her hips, and pooled in a dark puddle at her feet. Underneath, she wore a set of black lingerie. It wasn't especially revealing, but the way the thin lace straps and satin fabric embraced her forms was devastating. The underwire bra lifted and contained her enormous breasts, presenting them as a sublime offering, her white skin glowing in the faint light from the window. Her waist, marked by the slight pressure of the lycra, seemed even slimmer in contrast to the width of her hips and the generous curve of her thighs, covered by matching panties that left little to the imagination.
Rudel looked at her, and his capacity for rational thought evaporated. Only she existed, this monument of flesh and desire he had idolized from afar and that now was, miraculously, naked before him.
"Your turn," whispered Lecia, and her voice now had a low tone, laden with a promise that made Rudel's blood boil.
With hands clumsy from haste, he took off his sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath. Then, the belt, the button of his jeans, the zipper. In seconds, his clothes lay on the floor next to the black dress.
Lecia's gaze descended over his well-built body, and a genuine smile, full of warmth and approval, curved her lips.
"How strong," she murmured, closing the final distance.
The first contact of skin on skin was an electric shock. Rudel wrapped her in his arms, and the sensation of her naked, exuberant body against his was almost too much to bear. His mouth found hers in a kiss that had nothing timid about it. It was hungry, deep, a collapse of all barriers. Lecia's tongue intertwined with his with an urgency that left him breathless.
"Wait," she gasped, pulling away slightly. "In the drawer of your nightstand… do you have…?"
Rudel nodded vehemently. He pulled away for an instant, opened the drawer, and pulled out the box of "standard" condoms he had bought. Seeing it, Lecia let out a low chuckle.
"Prepared, aren't you?" she commented, taking one of the silver packets from his hands.
"Optimistic," he corrected, pulling her back towards him.
They moved towards the bed. There were no more words, only touch, exploration, muffled gasps. Rudel learned the weight and softness of her breasts with his hands and mouth, savoring the skin and feeling her nipples harden under his tongue, while she moaned and buried her fingers in his hair. His hands roamed the wide expanse of her hips, squeezing the generous flesh, feeling the power of her body.
When penetration came, it was a moment of overwhelming intensity. Lecia was more than ready, wet and warm, and she received him with a choked cry that was half pain, half pure pleasure. For Rudel, it was the most incredible, overwhelming, perfect sensation of his life. He was inside her, Professor Lecia, the woman of his forbidden dreams. The heat, the tightness, the way her body adjusted to his…
"Slowly," she whispered against his neck, her nails digging into his back. "Like that… that's good."
And Rudel obeyed. Moving with deliberate slowness, learning the rhythm that made her arch and moan. Soon, the slowness became impossible to maintain. Passion swept them away, finding a frantic, synchronized rhythm. The bed creaked, Lecia's moans grew louder, less contained. Rudel watched her, mesmerized by the spectacle of her face in ecstasy, by the sight of her enormous breasts bouncing with each thrust.
"Rudel-kun… Rudel-kun…" she moaned his name over and over, until her body tensed like a bow and a violent tremor ran through her. Her insides contracted around him with a force that brought him to the edge instantly. With a hoarse grunt, Rudel followed her, sinking into her one last time as the wave of his own orgasm shook him to the bone.
He collapsed on top of her, but immediately rolled to the side, panting, feeling the cold sweat on his skin. Lecia lay beside him, her breathing still ragged, one hand on his sweaty chest.
Neither said anything for what seemed an eternity. The only sound was their breathing gradually calming.
"This," Lecia finally said, her voice hoarse from moaning. "This that just happened. It's our secret. The biggest one either of us will ever have. Understood?"
Rudel turned his head to look at her. Her eyes, in the gloom, were serious.
"Yes," he whispered. "Our secret."
She nodded, and then, with a tenderness that made his heart flip, she snuggled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Rudel wrapped his arm around her, feeling the incredible softness of her skin, the perfect weight of her body against his. And so, exhausted, happy, and terrified by what they had done, they fell asleep.
◇◇◇
Morning light filtered through the blinds, illuminating the mess of clothes on the floor and the two intertwined forms in the bed. Rudel woke first, with the sensation of a warm, wonderful weight on his chest and arm. Lecia was sleeping deeply, her beautiful, relaxed, mature face, her blonde hair loose and splayed over the pillow and his shoulder. After pulling back the sheets, he could see the full, soft curve of her buttocks against his plump thighs, and the dried moisture of their own fluids between them.
He moved carefully, trying not to wake her, but as soon as he withdrew his arm, she murmured and opened her eyes. For a second, there was confusion, then memory hit, and a charming blush tinged her cheeks and the tops of her breasts.
"Good morning," whispered Rudel, smiling.
"Good morning… darling," she responded, testing the word. It sounded strange in her mouth, but also good.
She stretched, and the sheet slid further, revealing the glorious upper view of her breasts, now free from the bra, hanging, enormous, heavy, and perfect. Rudel couldn't help but look, his mouth instantly dry.
Lecia followed his gaze and smiled, a small, confident, feminine smile.
"You like them, don't you?" she asked, with no trace of the severe professor.
"I'm… obsessed with them," Rudel admitted, with brutal honesty. "And with everything else."
"Well," she said, sitting up and letting the sheet fall completely, showing her naked body in the daylight without the slightest shame. "There's time for more obsessions later. Now, I'm hungry. Would you like your girlfriend to make breakfast? Ah, I should call Liam too."
Rudel laughed, a laugh of pure happiness. And so it was. As he watched her cook the eggs and toast, Lecia first wandered around the house, wrapped in one of his large shirts that reached mid-thigh, showing her long legs and making the simple act of walking seem like a provocation.
After breakfast, Lecia leaned over the table and gave him a soft kiss on the lips, tasting of jam.
"So… what shall we do today, boyfriend? The weekend has just begun."
Rudel looked at her, still unable to believe his luck.
"Whatever you want. A date. Or… we can stay here."
She smiled, a slow, intention-laden smile.
"The hot water in your house is good, right? We could… start with a bath. Together. To save water, of course."
Rudel didn't need to be told twice.
◇◇◇
Monday morning, the routine of the institute felt like a strange, distorted dream to Rudel. Every hallway, every classroom, was steeped in the memory of Lecia, her skin, her moans. He sat in his seat, trying desperately to focus on the math problems on the board, but his mind was in the shower at his house, with the steam fogging the tiles and Lecia's hands soaping his back… and other parts.
Liam, beside him, seemed particularly grumpy.
"I don't know what's wrong with my mother lately," he muttered, not complaining directly to Rudel, but loud enough for him to hear. "She's in a… weird mood. Today she scolded me for leaving a plate in the sink as if I'd committed a war crime. And when I asked her what was wrong, she got all crazy and told me to stop bothering her. I was just asking!"
Rudel felt a pang of guilt. At the same time, a perverse part of him reveled in the secret.
"Maybe she has a lot of work," he offered, his voice neutral.
"Or maybe she needs a date," grumbled Liam. "But she won't listen. Says men are immature."
At that moment, the classroom door opened and Lecia entered. She wore a pearl-gray pantsuit, impeccable and professional. Her hair was in its usual severe bun, her glasses in place, her expression serene and inscrutable. She was Professor Lecia in all her authoritative splendor.
But when her eyes met Rudel's, just for a fraction of a second, something flickered in them. A warm glint, a wink of complicity so fast he might have imagined it. Then, she went to the front and began the class with her clear, firm voice.
For Rudel, that little flash was like a ray of sunshine on a gray day. He endured the class, answered a question correctly, and survived until the bell.
As he gathered his things, his phone vibrated silently in his pocket. With a furtive movement, he took it out and slid his finger across the screen under the desk.
It was a message. From an unsaved number, but one he already recognized.
[Unknown Sender]: [Photo attached]
He opened it. It was a selfie taken from a low angle, in what looked like the teachers' lounge. It showed Lecia, standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the collar of the same pearl-gray blouse she was wearing now. The photo was cropped just below her chin, focusing on the neckline where the blouse buttons strained over the spectacular curve of her breasts. It didn't show her face, but the message was clear, intimate, and terribly exciting.
[Unknown]: Thought you might like a souvenir from my workday. A kiss. Have a good class, Rudel-kun. 🖤
Rudel quickly looked up, searching for her. She was gathering her things from the desk, but at the exact moment he looked at her, she slightly turned her head towards him. And then, she did something that took his breath away.
She brought her fingers to her discreetly red-painted lips and, with a quick, secret motion, blew him a flying kiss. Just for him. A tiny gesture, full of an intimacy and mischief no one else in the world could understand.
In that moment, all the guilt, the fear, the absurdity of the situation, vanished. Only pure, bright euphoria remained. He returned a tiny smile, a nod. She turned and left the classroom, her lapis lazuli skirt swaying with that hypnotic rhythm that now belonged to him, at least in secret.
Rudel leaned back in his chair, a feeling of hot triumph in his chest. He had a girlfriend. An incredible, mature, desirable, and forbidden girlfriend. And it was his secret, the sweetest and most dangerous he would ever have.
As he stepped into the hallway, still smiling like a fool, a girl running past, in a hurry to get to her next class, stopped short upon seeing him. She was a first-year student, with pigtails and a lively gaze. She looked at him, who was looking at someone, then cast a fleeting glance towards the figure of Lecia who was waving goodbye and disappearing down the end of the corridor. She frowned, as if putting together a mental puzzle. Then, shrugging, she murmured to herself, but low enough for no one to hear:
"That's weird… Mom, what are you doing?"
Was it just a coincidence? A meaningless phrase? Or perhaps…?
________________
Definitely anything involving Lecia is pure cinema. And poor Liam, he doesn't know his mom is getting doses of penicillin now, but the one who deserves the whole cuck joke is Leonis: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/10541339?q=hornet_%28kancolle%29+