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Writer's pictureChristy Hadfield

Dr. Margaret Morgan 06

Updated: Dec 18, 2020


© Christina Hadfield


JUNIOR YEAR


Tess Stanford was becoming a problem. No, she had always been a problem, but now she was a problem of an entirely different sort, and Dr. Morgan was slowly, no, quickly, losing her mind.

At first, Tess was a headache. She was boisterous and pigheaded and so very annoying. That was bad enough. But then Dr. Morgan found she was growing fond of the girl. It was because Tess cared, she reasoned. No one else ever cared. She didn’t fault others, of course, it was her own fault she was so isolated and desolate, she molded herself that way on purpose. She was hurt too many times in the past, preferred the lack of closeness over the aching intense heartbreak, but she was only human. She craved affection, wanted attention and intimacy, though she fought to not. And Tess had crashed into her life, being too much and not enough all at once, and she left Dr. Morgan wanting more, desperately wanting more.

She was confused, felt confused in Tess’s presence near all the time. She wanted more from the girl, of course, but what it was that she wanted more of she wasn’t sure, and she also wasn’t sure what she could take, what the girl would be willing to give. She did know, however, that the girl’s hair beckoned her, that her soft sun-kissed skin beckoned her, and that smirk—she wanted to kiss it right off the girl’s smug face. She wanted to pin Tess down, against a wall, a desk, the nearest surface, and make her understand that Dr. Morgan didn’t give, she only took, and used, and hurt. She wanted to make Tess understand that she was evil, not worth the girl’s time, but she also wanted Tess to beg and whimper.

“You’re fidgeting,” Dr. Greenwood stated with a huff.

Dr. Morgan glanced up from her desk, looking to her friend who was draped across her couch. She swore the woman didn’t know how to sit normally.

“Yes, well, perhaps I’m a bit angsty,” Dr. Morgan admitted with an equal huff of annoyance at herself.

“You’re the one who demanded we stay here so you could work,” Dr. Greenwood commented. “If it were up to me, I would have dragged us to the bar hours ago.”

“It’s too early. You can’t show up at a bar just past five on a Friday. You have to wait until the evening, the night even more ideal.”

“You’re angsty though to go as well?” Dr. Greenwood questioned, sitting up slightly. Nearly all summer she had been trailing after Dr. Morgan to the bar. She watched with slight envy the way Dr. Morgan could pick up a girl with such ease, would always have a partner to warm her bed in the evening. Dr. Greenwood was less fortunate, left the bar alone most nights because she was rusty, and something would always remind her of her ex. But she was more determined.

Hours later, they went downtown to O’Charlie’s Bar. It hadn’t opened as a gay bar, but the bartenders were queer and questioning woman seemed to wander in there every weekend. Dr. Greenwood wore a dress that she determined wasn’t too frumpy—though she looked a bit like a hippy art teacher—and Dr. Morgan was in a pant suit that was entirely too attractive to be fair. Sometimes Dr. Greenwood belittled herself for even temporarily falling for a woman like Dr. Morgan, but in times like that night, she went easier on herself.

“Mad Dog!” the bartender Jimmy called when Dr. Morgan shoved into the establishment. She winked at him and walked to the counter as he flawlessly passed over her regular. She downed half of it before she greeted him.

“Got a couple of cuties asking about you tonight,” Jimmy stated, polishing a glass. “I told them to hang around your booth, figured you’d be in tonight. Hello, Amy. Looking to get hammered or laid?”

“Could I take both?” Dr. Greenwood questioned, taking a seat at the bar beside Dr. Morgan.

“Of course, but there’s someone here tonight looking for you.”

Jimmy pointed off across the bar and Dr. Greenwood’s stomach bottomed out. It was her ex, sitting at a table, looking bashful and innocent. She made eye contact with Dr. Greenwood and battered her eyelashes. Dr. Greenwood turned away hotly.

“I need to go,” she choked out.

Dr. Morgan, one hand still on her drink, reached out with her free hand and grabbed Dr. Greenwood’s arm, holding her still. “Now’s your chance to get some answers,” she stated. “Go talk to her. But please, for the love of god, don’t go pleading after her. It’s unbecoming when girls fall back to their ex.”

“But twenty-years, Margaret.”

“If you sleep with her again, I’ll kill you,” Dr. Morgan threatened.

Begrudgingly, Dr. Greenwood went over to the table. She did have some questions and she did want a lot of answers. Dr. Morgan remained behind, talking to Jimmy only momentarily.

“Keep an eye on her, will you? Don’t let them leave together.”

“I’ll do my best to uphold my bartending duties,” Jimmy saluted.

Dr. Morgan nodded, standing. She was hungry, not for food, but for a fruit of the flesh she felt the need to satisfy every week. She needed to dominate, to be in control of another person, completely in control of their pleasure. She glanced back to her booth. There were three girls there, two engaged in conversation, the third alone and cute and innocent.

Dr. Morgan slid into place beside the woman with ease. They talked for a moment, Dr. Morgan bought her a drink, and hardly a few minutes later they were making out. On most nights, Dr. Morgan would have suggested they escape the bar, push to end up back at the girl’s house so she could leave early and not wait around for the stranger, but sometimes it didn’t matter, and Dr. Morgan’s house was closer, which was most ideal. That night, however, before Dr. Morgan could suggest such a thing, the girl giggled and wiggled away, escaping off to the bathroom.

Dr. Morgan looked back at her friend, Dr. Greenwood. She was leaning in far too close to her ex with such a whimsical look in her eyes. That was a mistake, a big fat mistake. She should have gone and torn Dr. Greenwood away, but there was an anger flaring in Dr. Morgan and a second later she stalked off to the bathroom herself.

The girl was waiting for her; she figured she was. Dr. Morgan slammed her into the wall, then scrambled to lift her up on the sink counter, their kisses all teeth. Dr. Morgan ran her tongue along the girl’s neck, biting, palming too hard, fighting to elicit a yelp from the woman. But the woman smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume, her clothes too skimpy, the skin too pale and rough. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t right.

Dr. Morgan’s nostrils flared. She jerked the girl off the sink and tugged her into one of the bathroom stalls. Within seconds she had hiked up the girl’s skirt and she was down on her knees, nuzzling. The girl tugged at her hair, but it was light, and she was sighing, not whimpering or begging, and Dr. Morgan couldn’t find her footing, couldn’t get the rise and response she was craving. She shoved back, the girl looking to her with question, but she wouldn’t even fight the loss of contact.

Furious, Dr. Morgan stormed out of the bathroom. She fell back into her place at the bar, jerking another drink free from Jimmy’s grasp.

“Hey, that was for a table,” he stated, though he wasn’t too serious, already pouring another drink. “What’s got your mood so sour so fast?” he commented.

“I’m suffering,” Dr. Morgan practically moaned.

“So I can tell. Want to explain why?”

Dr. Morgan mumbled out a few feeble excuses, like the women around that night being disinterested or unexcited, something about them not being her type and her being tired. She stared into the liquid of the drink she grabbed, displeased with the taste, but she took another gulp, frustrated with herself more than anything.

“You’ve got your eyes on someone else, someone specific,” Jimmy stated. Her knew her too well, had known her for over a decade, ever since she settled in downtown. He knew all the partners she claimed, listening to dozens of heartbroken girls crying over the woman at his very bar. He knew her type: a lone wolf, not someone with interests or dreams, just someone who took the nights as they came and moved on without commitment. To see her struggle was something new, but he was curious to see where it might lead.

“You’re being absurd,” Dr. Morgan answered instantly.

“Am I?” Jimmy questioned. “And here I thought I’d never see the day that Mad Dog would fall in love.”

Dr. Morgan scoffed. “I’m hardly in love,” she stated forcefully. “I don’t even know if I’m capable of love.”

“Not so serious then, a crush,” Jimmy offered more softly.

“It’s entire physical,” Dr. Morgan corrected.

“But there is someone particular then.”

Dr. Morgan glanced up at the bartender, noting that he was smirking profusely. She sighed, admitting defeat.

“Yes, there’s someone,” she commented. “I find that my… fixation on her has grown suddenly and quite intensely, just a simple itch to scratch. If I could just get it out of my system, I would be back to my normal self in a matter of hours. But as it is, I find myself comparing all other potential partners with her, and no one is quite living up to my expectations.”

“She might not either,” Jimmy pointed out. “Setting up expectations is dangerous.”

“At least I’d know then and she’d be out of my system,” Dr. Morgan muttered. “It’s difficult slipping into bed with someone you didn’t meet at a bar… different ideals and societal norms…”

“I have no doubt you’ll succeed, knowing your track record.”

“Hello there, sexy. Is this seat taken?”

Dr. Morgan turned, noting the woman practically draped over her back. She reeked of alcohol, far too intoxicated for Dr. Morgan to pursue on a good day, and the professor wiggled herself away.

“Excuse me,” she stated, more so to Jimmy than the woman, “I have a friend I need to fetch before she makes a horrid mistake.”

Dr. Morgan trailed over to the table where Dr. Greenwood was, getting entirely too friendly with her ex after the months of tear-filled nights. She tried to pull Dr. Greenwood away, who protested, and after the ex-stated, “She can make choices for herself, Margaret, she’s a fully-grown woman,” Dr. Morgan sent some choice insults flying her direction before jerking Dr. Greenwood away.

The two women shoved out the door, Dr. Greenwood already muttering out several of her woes, and they both failed to notice the student hovering near the bar, flabbergasted at what she just witnessed.


 

Elle slammed open Tess’s bedroom door, startling the girl so badly she nearly fell out of her desk chair.

“You gave me a heart attack!” Tess practically snapped. She struggled to compose herself, reaching out to pause her music.

Kai, who was also in the room, lounging on Tess’s bed studying, sat up as well, interested in what Elle seemed so excited about.

“I saw Dr. Morgan at a gay bar!” Elle shouted with no poise.

“So?” Tess stated with forced disinterest, though her heart stuttered.

“So!?” Elle whined dramatically. “The devil incarnate is a lesbian!”

“I can hardly picture her with anyone, man or woman,” Kai stated. “And just because you saw her at a gay bar doesn’t mean she’s gay, and even if she was there picking up women, it doesn’t mean she’s a lesbian, she could be bi.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Elle agreed. “But it would make a lot more sense if she wasn’t straight.”

“Would it?” Tess questioned, feigning boredom.

Kai smirked, suddenly, and threw her pencil at Tess, hitting the other girl on the head. She yelped, turning to fix Kai with a glare.

“If she likes woman, maybe you’ve got a chance, since you think she’s so hot.”

“Wait, Tess thinks Dr. Morgan’s hot?” Elle squealed, as if that were just the most fantastic information.

“It was an offhanded comment freshmen year,” Tess forced out.

“Are you saying then that if she was interested, because she might be, if she’s not straight, that you absolutely would not be interested in getting it on with the mysterious and aloof bio-chem professor?”

Tess felt her cheeks heating up, so she turned away, focusing back in on her homework. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Tess stated. “I’d never stand a chance, wanted or not.”

“You would,” Kai accused, though her tone wasn’t hostile. “You would most absolutely bang Dr. Morgan.”

“Heck, if I thought she wouldn’t kill me, I’d bang Dr. Morgan,” Elle declared. “She’s extremely attractive. I’d let her punch me in the face if she asked, she’s just got that powerful nature about her. I completely get it.”

“Was she with a woman, at the bar?” Kai questioned. “Was she flirting or making out with a woman? Anything that might confirm she wasn’t just there supporting a friend?”

Tess scoffed at that. “She doesn’t do friends.”

“Everybody has friends,” Kai argued, “even if they might claim they don’t. And if Dr. Morgan is gay, as you say, and she does wet a girl’s panties, as you claim, I couldn’t imagine she’d be alone at this gay bar.”

“Women were most certainly flocking around her,” Elle stated. “She seemed flirty, and she left with this one woman right when I got there. They walked right past me to leave, that was how I got such a good look and realized it really was Dr. Morgan.”

Tess’s fist clenched. She had no right to be jealous of what or who Dr. Morgan spent her free time doing. But it hurt, just a bit, and if anything, it just made Tess want to throw herself at the woman more, especially now that there was hope Dr. Morgan could be interested as well.

“Well I’ll be… what an interesting bit of information,” Kai said.

“I know!” Elle exclaimed, still high strung about what she had witnessed.

Tess, if anything, had a lot of contemplating to do.


 

“She’s a nightmare!” Dr. Kemper exclaimed light heartedly. “My daughter swore she’d be fully invested in the puppy’s training, but she got sick of it after a week of failed commands, so now we’ve got a terror of an energetic puppy and I’m left trying to pick up the pieces!”

“She’s so cute though!” Kai commented. “How could you stay mad at something so precious!?”

“She’s a terror!” Dr. Kemper reiterated. “I was late to work today because she knocked a vase off our kitchen table, and then, when I went to clean that up, she ran into my room and chewed up the shoes I was going to wear!”

“You need to get her into puppy classes,” Dr. Marlow stated.

“She’ll need the special ed class!” Dr. Kemper scoffed. “Aren’t you two friends with Elle? She works at the dog shelter, doesn’t she? Does she know any doggy class places?”

“I can ask her,” Tess answered.

The four—both baby bio professors, Kai, and Tess—were walking through campus after classes one afternoon. The girls had stopped by their professors’ offices to get some grading done and just talk, and they hung around until the teachers declared they needed to leave. So, Kai and Tess walked with the professors out towards their cars as they headed back to the on-campus apartments where they lived.

“Oh, don’t look now,” Dr. Kemper muttered, “but it’s Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass in the flesh.”

“Don’t call her that,” Dr. Marlow scolded.

“Well she’s been an extra righteous pain lately,” Dr. Kemper retorted.

Tess looked on ahead, across the quad where her professors’ attention was, and noted that Dr. Morgan was walking along, struggling to balance several large packages in her arms. Tess kept walking, though her attention was clearly torn. They were heading towards Dr. Morgan, though at a much slower pace, and the other professor would be gone down a separate path before they reached her.

Tess thought back to what Elle had said. Dr. Morgan… at a gay bar… flirting with women and leaving with one. Tess felt almost overwhelmingly predatory, as if Dr. Morgan and she had something special, a type of mutual understanding and tolerance.

Suddenly, Tess shouted, at the top of her lungs, “Dr. Morgan!” She took off at a sprint, away from the others who watched her peculiarly. “Dr. Morgan! Wait up!”

“What on earth is she doing?” Dr. Kemper questioned, and Dr. Marlow seemed just as confused.

Kai, on the other hand, was smirking.

Tess caught up to Dr. Morgan easily. She was fast and agile, and Dr. Morgan was struggling to not drop anything. She slid up beside the professor, smiling, and reached out, taking the top half of the packages from Dr. Morgan’s arms. “Here, let me help you with that,” Tess declared.

“God, now you’re bothering me outside of my office,” Dr. Morgan retorted, but her comment only seemed to make Tess smile larger. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying those, you know.”

“Of course,” Tess answered, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t lend you a hand. Where are you heading?”

“My car,” Dr. Morgan replied. She spotted the biology professors then, and Kai, who were watching them closely and heading in the exact opposite direction. “You really don’t need to help me. I’m quite capable and I do believe we’re heading opposite directions.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I’m heading in whichever direction you are.”

Dr. Morgan eyed the girl oddly before she suddenly jerked the packages out of Tess’s arms. “Stop being obstinate and give me those. Now get.”

“I don’t want to… get!” Tess punctuated her last word with a swift and playful hit to Dr. Morgan’s upper arm.

Something shifted in Dr. Morgan. She turned, grabbing Tess’s wrist harshly, and the packages fell between them, creating quite the noise. They stood, both frozen, staring at each other. Their breathing was heavy, and Tess nearly caved under the pressure, the roughness, a touch she craved and wanted so much more of. And Dr. Morgan, for a second, thought she could see the flash of want in the girl’s eyes. But she was reading into it too much, surely, morphing her desires into what she wanted to see. There was no way Tess was gay, for starters, and no way that she would want Dr. Morgan, of all people. This was different. This wasn’t the bar where Dr. Morgan was in control and could play the game with ease, this was work, university, and a student, and with Tess, she could never quite predict what was going to happen.

She shoved Tess’s arm harshly back, waited a beat more just staring at the girl, and then she quickly dipped and grabbed the boxes she dropped, practically running away. Tess stood frozen a moment more, her breathing so sporadic. Then, once she felt she had more control, she wandered back to the baby bio professors and Kai.

“What was all that about?” Kai teased, still smirking.

Tess fought against the blush trying to crawl up her neck. “She just looked like she needed some help carrying those boxes,” Tess answered.

“Don’t feel bad that she didn’t want your help,” Dr. Marlow commented. “She doesn’t take nicely to being inferior in any regards, and that includes asking for help, or even receiving help.”

“She grabbed your wrist rather harshly, didn’t she?” Kai continued, the teasing tone of her voice still easily heard. Dr. Marlow was oblivious to this, but Dr. Kemper, on the other hand, found the exchange between the two friends to be quite curious.

“She was just irritated with me,” Tess answered. She looked away, noting the library. “I, um, I forgot I need to print off some papers. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” Then she quickly turned and retreated towards the library, desperate for a moment alone to collect her thoughts.


 

Tess wasn’t sure when her near daily interruptions into Dr. Morgan’s office turned from twenty-minutes at lunch time to a couple hours between classes to her just lounging in the office after all her classes were done, doing homework while Dr. Morgan did work. She wasn’t sure when she started staying in the office until late into the night, when Dr. Morgan would finally, almost begrudgingly, admit that she needed to get home. She wasn’t sure when Dr. Morgan let her invade her free time more readily, or why the woman always felt the need to fight Tess’s presence with empty threats that lacked bite. Tess found though that she didn’t really want the woman to stop. If Dr. Morgan welcomed her in with open arms, like Dr. Kemper and Dr. Marlow, Tess wasn’t sure if she’d survive it.

That evening, she brought dinner with her, along with food for Dr. Morgan. The woman absolutely refused to be of any help when Tess asked her that afternoon what she might like. Instead, Tess was left to guess, but she found she had steadily learned the woman’s taste preferences just as she was slowly learning quite a lot about Dr. Morgan. Of course, Dr. Morgan scoffed at the calzone, had something sarcastic to say as she always did, but she ate it, even seemed blissfully content with the flavor if only for a moment, and Tess considered that to be a win.

Tess, nearly an hour ago, had finished all her homework. She didn’t want to leave though, and she knew if Dr. Morgan found her just siting and staring, she’d be more adamant that Tess leave. So instead, Tess busied herself on her computer, chatting with Kai and Elle online while stealing glances at Dr. Morgan from over top her laptop.

She was tantalizingly gorgeous. She always was, but especially when she was focused and hard at work, nibbling absently at her lip as she focused. Tess ran her tongue across her own lip. What she wouldn’t give to bite Dr. Morgan’s lip, to feel the other woman’s tongue trace across her own lip.

Tess cleared her throat, as she knew it would be hoarse, and stated, “Hey, have you ever heard of O’Charlie’s? I hear it’s a bar downtown… has some really good food.”

Dr. Morgan sat up taller and looked at Tess, who found she couldn’t quite read the older woman’s expression.

“Why?” Dr. Morgan answered, her tone neutral.

“Well I was just wondering if you’d been before, if the food was any good, or the price of the drinks,” Tess stated dismissively. “Kai’s twenty-first birthday is coming up and we’re trying to find a good bar to go to.”

Dr. Morgan swallowed somewhat difficultly. “Um, yes, it’s a good bar,” she answered. “I’ve been a few times. I would recommend it.”

Tess nearly smirked, but she stilled her lips. She focused on her computer screen, taking the time to compose herself so she’d speak her next words clearly. “Did you know it’s a gay bar?” Tess asked, and when she did, she couldn’t help but cautiously glance up at the professor.

Disappointed, Tess found Dr. Morgan was turned away from her, almost disinterested. “A common misconception,” Dr. Morgan answered.

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t opened as a gay bar, isn’t labeled as a gay bar, it’s just… well a certain crowd tends to gather there.”

“Well, we’d fit in fine there,” Tess answered. “Kai’s got a boyfriend, but she’s bi, and Elle is just about as gay as you could get. Mind if I play some music?”

Dr. Morgan’s ears were hot. She noted that Tess failed to mention anything about her orientation, and that annoyed her. She was furthered irritated when music began radiating from Tess’s computer. It was something electric and pop-ish, quite disgusting.

“Turn that off immediately,” Dr. Morgan snapped, spinning to face the girl.

Tess eyed the woman, a glint to her eyes. “Make me,” Tess challenged.

Dr. Morgan was up in a flash. She was a fury of emotion, angry and irritated and mad, but also something more. She charged at Tess, tried to pull the laptop away from the girl, but Tess turned and pushed herself down along the couch.

“You’re so obstinate and terribly annoying,” Dr. Morgan huffed.

“It’s good music,” Tess objected.

“It’s trashy noise,” Dr. Morgan corrected. She lunged at Tess again, this time crawling up onto the couch to chase after the girl.

She tried to grab the laptop again, but this time Tess spun it out of her reach. Dr. Morgan dove after it, then slowed, watching as Tess sat the laptop to the side, away and on the coffee table. Dr. Morgan turned then to address the girl and realized they were suddenly very close, face to face, with Dr. Morgan hovering over Tess on the couch.

Dr. Morgan was acutely aware of the girl’s hand resting against her side, was very aware of how heavily they were both breathing, and she was extremely aware of the burning ache in her lower stomach. She was also very aware of the smirk on Tess’s face, that same exact smirk that had been teasing Dr. Morgan for months on end. Underneath her, Tess arched up, her eyes almost pleading, and Dr. Morgan broke.

She surged forward and kissed that obnoxious smirk straight off of Tess’s face. She came at the girl all teeth and pain, a rough harshness that she expected would finally send the girl scurrying off, tail between her legs, never to be seen again. She bit Tess’s lip, hard, rough enough to draw blood, and she ate the cry that the girl released. She shoved Tess back harshly and then she pulled back, standing away from the girl, licking at her lips. “Time to flee, run back home to safety, you stupid, stupid girl,” Dr. Morgan thought, but then she met Tess’s eyes and she noticed with no subtlety that the girl’s pupils were blown.

Suddenly Tess was off the couch as well and she reconnected their lips with equal desperation. She balled her fists in Dr. Morgan’s shirt, clinging for dear life, and when she dragged her tongue across Dr. Morgan’s lips, the woman sprung into action once more.

How foolish she had been to think Tess wouldn’t want her back with the same extreme desperation. How could she have been so blind to misinterpret the longing looks and the teasing—the flirting! They had been dancing around this game of wits for months and now finally, finally, Dr. Morgan had the girl exactly where she wanted her… well, almost.

Dr. Morgan spun, jerking Tess with her, and she broke apart to hoist Tess up, dumping the girl back on her desk. Things went flying, pens and papers and various items all crashing to the floor. But Dr. Morgan found she didn’t care. She was surprised even when Tess desperately reconnected their lips, finding the professor was taking far too long for her liking. This was it! That passion, that desperation!

But… Tess was far too eager. She jerked at Dr. Morgan’s shirt, clearly wanting it off, and when Dr. Morgan tried to force her back, to still her, they fought for dominance and control. Of course, Tess wouldn’t be submissive, nothing about her personality suggested such a thing. And this realization caused Dr. Morgan to stumble back a step and regain her senses.

Tess surged for her again, but Dr. Morgan rested her palm on the girl’s sternum, stopping her. “We can’t do this,” Dr. Morgan stated. She was serious, though soft. Tess didn’t seem to get the message, however, so she stated more firmly, “You need to leave, Miss Stanford, now.” Dr. Morgan backed up, staring at the girl, her arms crossed over her chest.

Tess clearly wanted to say something, wanted to protest, surly, but instead she just slid off the desk and went over to the couch to retrieve her things. Dr. Morgan was worried she had upset the girl, that Tess might cry, as so many of the women she had hooked up with did. Tess didn’t seem sad though, which was peculiar and odd.

The girl stopped in the doorway, her backpack slung up over her shoulder. “Goodnight, Dr. Morgan,” Tess stated, and her voice was gruff and heavy with want.

Dr. Morgan shifted uncomfortably against the ache between her legs. She wanted to reach out and stop the girl, drag her back to her desk and claim her, but this wasn’t a random girl at a bar, it was Tess, and they were at school and things were complicated.

Then Tess was gone, and Dr. Morgan was even more furious.



© Christina Hadfield


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