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MidReal Story
Forbidden Lessons
Anonymous
Jul 25
Scenario:I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me, aparently I'm not good enough in bed for him. So in return I kissed a stranger in front of him. that kiss had been on my mind all week long, it was like a drug. I thought I never would have seen him again but sadly he's my new profesor
Create my version of this story
Mark Thompson
new professor and the kissed stranger, relationship with Emily is complex, tall with sharp features, intelligent and conflicted
Emily Carter
heartbroken student, relationships with other protagonists, petite with curly brown hair, resilient and impulsive
Sarah Jennings
Emily's supportive best friend, friends with Emily and Mark, blonde and bubbly, loyal and protective
I was drunk.
The kind of drunk where you see two of everything and the room is spinning.
The kind of drunk where you’re too hot and then too cold, and your head is pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to explode.
The kind of drunk where you’re not even sure how you got home or why you’re crying, but you can’t seem to stop.
It was the worst kind of drunk because I had just been dumped.
My boyfriend of three years had cheated on me, and I’d walked in on them in bed together.
I’d never seen him look so guilty, and I’d never seen her look so smug.
He tried to apologize, tried to explain that he’d been confused and didn’t know what he wanted, but I wasn’t listening.
I just ran out of there as fast as I could, tears streaming down my face.
I ran all the way back to my apartment, not caring that it was the middle of the night or that I was in my pajamas.
I stumbled into the dimly lit bar, my vision blurred by tears and alcohol.
The bartender gave me a concerned look as I slumped onto a stool.
"Another drink," I mumbled, barely able to keep my head up.
He hesitated but poured me another shot of whiskey.
I downed it in one gulp, feeling the burn all the way down.
My ex-boyfriend's betrayal replayed in my mind, each scene sharper than the last.
His guilty face. Her smug smile. The tangled sheets.
I clenched my fists, trying to drown the anger and sorrow with more alcohol.
"Hey, you okay?" a voice asked from beside me.
I turned to see a tall stranger with sharp features and piercing blue eyes.
He looked genuinely concerned, which only made me feel worse.
"Do I look okay?" I snapped, my voice slurring.
He raised an eyebrow but didn't walk away.
Instead, he leaned in closer. "Sometimes talking helps."
I laughed bitterly. "Talking won't fix this."
He didn't push further, just nodded and took a sip of his drink.
For some reason, his calm demeanor irritated me even more.
Impulsively, I stood up and grabbed his collar, pulling him towards me.
Before I could second-guess myself, I kissed him passionately.
The bar fell silent around us, shocked gasps echoing in the background.
The kiss was electric, momentarily numbing my pain and confusion.
His lips were warm and firm against mine, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away.
But then reality crashed back in, and I pulled away, breathless and confused.
"What the hell was that?" he asked, equally breathless but not angry.
I couldn't answer. I just shook my head and fled the bar, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed me out.
The cold night air hit me like a slap to the face as I stumbled down the street.
I had no idea where I was going; I just needed to get away from there.
Eventually, I found myself back at my apartment.
I collapsed onto my bed without bothering to change out of my clothes.
Sleep came fitfully, haunted by fragmented dreams of betrayal and that unexpected kiss.
The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache and a heavy sense of regret.
I groaned as I glanced at the clock—barely enough time to get ready for class.
Dragging myself out of bed, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag.
Coffee would have to wait; right now, survival was the priority.
As I walked into the lecture hall, my head still throbbing from last night's escapades, I prayed for an uneventful day.
But fate had other plans.
Standing at the front of the room was none other than the stranger from the bar.
He looked just as shocked to see me as I was to see him.
I felt a mix of embarrassment and defiance swirling inside me.
Sarah, sitting next to me, noticed my discomfort and leaned in.
"Hey, don't let it get to you," she whispered, her voice soothing.
I nodded, trying to focus on the lecture, but my mind kept drifting back to the kiss.
Mark's voice faltered slightly when he finally glanced in my direction.
His eyes quickly darted away, and he continued speaking about the economic theories we were supposed to be learning.
The room felt stifling, the air thick with unspoken tension.
During the break, I knew I had to confront him.
Gathering all my courage, I approached him as he packed up his notes.
"We need to talk," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mark looked up, his expression unreadable.
He nodded and followed me out of the classroom.
We stepped outside into the crisp autumn air.
Leaves crunched under our feet as we walked a few steps away from the building.
The tension between us was palpable.
"What happened at the bar stays there," Mark said firmly, breaking the silence.
His tone was authoritative, leaving no room for argument.
I narrowed my eyes at him. "It's not that simple."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Emily, we were both drunk. It was a mistake."
"A mistake?" I echoed, feeling a surge of anger. "You think you can just brush it off like it never happened?"
Mark's jaw tightened. "Yes, because it shouldn't have happened in the first place."
I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to steady my breathing. "But it did happen. And now we have to deal with it."
He looked away, staring at the ground as if searching for answers in the fallen leaves. "What do you want from me?"
"I don't know," I admitted honestly. "But ignoring it isn't going to make it go away."
Mark finally met my gaze, his eyes filled with frustration and something else I couldn't quite place. "Fine. Let's talk about it then."
I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Why did you kiss me back?"
He hesitated before answering. "Because... because in that moment, I wanted to forget everything too."
His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning.
"And now?" I asked softly.
"Now," he said slowly, "we move on."
I shook my head. "It's not that easy for me."
Mark stepped closer, his expression softening slightly. "Emily, I'm your professor. We can't—"
"I know," I interrupted him. "But that doesn't change what happened or how I feel."
He looked torn, conflicted emotions playing across his face. "This can't go anywhere."
I swallowed hard, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "So what do we do now?"
Mark sighed deeply. "We keep this professional and try to forget about that night."
I nodded reluctantly, knowing he was right but hating how final it sounded.
"Okay," I whispered.
He gave me a small nod before turning to walk back inside.
As he disappeared into the building, I stood there for a moment longer, letting the cool breeze wash over me.
The weight of our conversation settled heavily on my shoulders.
With a deep breath, I turned and headed back towards the classroom.
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur.
Mark avoided looking at me again, and I tried to focus on taking notes.
But my mind kept replaying our conversation outside.
When class finally ended, I gathered my things and left quickly.
As I stepped out into the hallway, Sarah caught up with me.
"Hey," she said gently. "You okay?"
I forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."
She gave me a sympathetic look but didn't press further.
We walked out of the building together in silence.
Just as we reached the parking lot, my phone buzzed with a new message.
I glanced at the screen and froze when I saw who it was from: Mark.
The message was simple: "Can we talk? My office, now."
I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen.
A part of me wanted to ignore it, to pretend that everything was fine.
But I knew I couldn't do that.
"What's wrong?" Sarah asked, noticing my sudden change in demeanor.
"It's nothing," I lied, forcing another smile. "I'll catch up with you later."
She looked skeptical but nodded and walked away.
Taking a deep breath, I turned and headed towards Mark's office.
The hallways were eerily quiet, the only sound being the echo of my footsteps on the tiled floor.
When I reached his door, I paused for a moment before knocking softly.
"Come in," Mark's voice called from inside.
I pushed the door open and stepped into the dimly lit room.
The blinds were partially drawn, casting long shadows across the walls.
Mark was sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he looked up at me.
"We need to clear the air," he said, his voice steady but serious.
I nodded, feeling a mix of anger and curiosity bubbling inside me.
I closed the door behind me and took a seat across from him.
The silence between us was thick and uncomfortable.
Mark leaned forward slightly. "I've been thinking about what happened."
"So have I," I replied, my voice tinged with frustration.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Emily, I can't stop thinking about that kiss."
His confession hit me like a punch to the gut.
A surge of conflicting emotions—anger, desire, confusion—rushed through me.
"Then why did you act like it meant nothing?" I demanded, my voice rising.
"Because it shouldn't have happened!" he shot back, his own voice growing louder. "I'm your professor. This is completely inappropriate."
"Inappropriate or not, it happened," I retorted. "And pretending it didn't won't change anything."
We glared at each other across the desk, our breaths coming in short bursts from the heated argument.
Suddenly, Mark stood up and walked around the desk to stand in front of me.
Before I could react, he leaned down and kissed me again—this time with undeniable intensity.
His lips were firm and insistent against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body.
I responded instinctively, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
The kiss deepened, filled with all the pent-up emotions we had been trying to suppress.
For a moment, everything else faded away—the complications, the consequences—none of it mattered.
But then reality crashed back in.
I broke away from him abruptly, gasping for breath.
"What are we doing?" I whispered, my voice trembling.
Mark's eyes were dark with desire but also conflicted.
"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "But I can't seem to stay away from you."
The door suddenly opened, and Sarah walked in, her eyes widening at the sight of us.
"What the hell is going on?" she demanded.
I stepped back, guilt washing over me.
Mark straightened his tie, trying to regain composure.
"It's not what it looks like," he stammered.
Sarah glared at him, then turned to me.
"You need to leave," she said firmly.
I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat.
I hurried out of the office, Sarah following close behind.
Outside, Sarah grabbed my arm.
"We need to talk."
I nodded, tears welling up in my eyes.
We walked down the hallway in silence until we reached a small courtyard outside the building.
The autumn air was crisp and cool, leaves rustling underfoot as we found a secluded bench to sit on.
Sarah's grip on my arm loosened but her expression remained stern.
"Emily," she began, her voice low but intense. "What were you thinking?"
I looked down at my hands, unable to meet her gaze. "I don't know," I whispered. "Everything's just so messed up right now."
She sighed deeply. "You can't let your emotions control you like this. Mark is your professor. This could ruin everything for both of you."
"I know," I said, my voice cracking. "But it just happened. I didn't plan any of this."
Sarah shook her head. "That doesn't make it okay. You need to stay away from him."
"But—" I started to protest, but she cut me off.
"No buts," she said firmly. "This isn't just about you anymore. It's about your future, his career... everything."
I felt a tear slip down my cheek and quickly wiped it away. "You're right," I admitted reluctantly. "I just... I don't know how to fix this."
Sarah softened slightly and placed a hand on my shoulder. "You start by keeping your distance. Focus on your studies, your friends... anything but him."
I nodded slowly, knowing she was right but hating how impossible it felt.
Just then, a group of students walked by, laughing and chatting as if nothing in the world was wrong.
I envied their carefree demeanor, wishing I could rewind time and erase all the mistakes I'd made.
"Come on," Sarah said gently, standing up and offering me her hand. "Let's get out of here."
I took her hand and stood up, feeling a mix of gratitude and sadness.
As we walked away from the courtyard, I couldn't help but glance back at the building where Mark's office was.
A part of me wanted to run back inside and confront him again, but I knew that would only make things worse.
We reached the parking lot where Sarah's car was parked.
She unlocked the doors and we both got in, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.
"Where do you want to go?" she asked as she started the engine.
"Anywhere but here," I replied softly.
She nodded and pulled out of the parking lot, driving aimlessly through the city streets.
The familiar sights passed by in a blur as I stared out the window, lost in thought.
Eventually, we ended up at a small café on the edge of town.
Sarah parked the car and turned to me. "Let's get something to eat. You need to take your mind off things for a while."
I nodded gratefully and followed her inside.
The warm aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries filled the air as we found a table near the window.
We ordered our drinks and sat in silence for a few moments before Sarah finally spoke again.
"Emily," she said gently. "You're stronger than you think. You'll get through this."
I looked at her, seeing genuine concern in her eyes. "Thank you," I whispered. "For everything."
She smiled softly. "That's what friends are for."
Our drinks arrived and we sipped them slowly, letting the warmth seep into our bones.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax just a little bit.
But even as we chatted about mundane things—classes, weekend plans—I couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from over.
Mark's kiss still lingered on my lips like a ghost that refused to be exorcised.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with another message notification.
My heart raced as I pulled it out of my bag and glanced at the screen.
It was from Mark: "We need to talk again."
