Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
I remove the vibrator, switch it off, and set it aside. Easing my fingers slowly out of her, I smile as she whimpers at the loss. With a final lick, I taste her hole before I pull her dress back down over her thighs and hold her against my chest.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but finally, she asks me for some water. I hand her a glass, and she sips it slowly, looking around my office like she’s remembering where she is.
Gerald, the skeleton, looks on quietly without judgment.
“Good girl,” I tell her without even thinking about it. The words just come out naturally.
She looks at me, and something moves through her eyes that there is simply no anatomical definition for. Something warm and new, almost like she’s proud of fulfilling her first lesson.
“Oh,” she says, like she’s forgotten something. Quickly, she takes her green pen, opens her notebook to a fresh page, and scribbles something down. It’s like she’s taking notes on what I just taught her.
That’s right. This was just an act of education. I genuinely care for my student and am filling a gap in her understanding.
Yeah, I’m lying my ass off.
I want this girl more than life itself. My hands are shaking, which is something they haven’t done in years. Not since before I started surgery.
I gave Jessie this lesson because she walked into my lecture hall and changed my life forever.
And now that I’ve had my first taste, I’m going to be back for more.
More, more, more.
God help us both.
5
JESSIE
My notebook sits open on my desk. I’ve been staring at the same two words for the last thirteen minutes.
Good girl.
I wrote them down. I underlined them. I don’t know why I wrote them down exactly, but it felt like the right thing to do. Like taking notes in class. After all, last night’s session with Professor Holt was technically a class…
…right?
But if I’m being honest with myself, I didn’t write those particular words down with the intent on reviewing them later academically. I wrote them down because when he said them, something burst inside of me. Right behind my ribcage, down in the core of my being. And I needed to get them down somewhere before they tore through me.
I close the notebook but instantly open it again.
Good girl.
Gasping for breath, I close it.
It’s seven-thirty in the morning, and I’ve been up since five. My body will simply not calm down. It’s humming with the aftermath of our ‘tutoring session.’ I may be no expert on anatomy, but it’s like every nerve ending in my body has been switched on somehow with no intent to switch off.
Pressing my thighs together, I feel a pulse so sharp it nearly causes me to jump. I look up at the ceiling, my gaze unfocused as I think about his hands…his mouth…the way he spoke to me…
“Ten thousand nerve endings. More than anywhere else in the human body.”
It’s such a clinical statement, but it was so erotic then. It’s even more erotic now as I think about his tongue and the way he taught me with it…
I snatch the sheets and pull them around me. This can’t happen again. He’s my professor. His profile page says he’s thirty-six years old. I’m only eighteen. There’s no way he’s actually interested in me.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about that moment with him down on his knees between my legs, explaining things to me I never knew. It’s like he walked me hand in hand into a whole new world filled with nothing but pleasure.
And he held me afterward. I felt safe wrapped up in his arms. Intoxicated as I inhaled the scent of his sweat. Smitten as I felt the beat of his heart against mine.
I’m going to go to his lecture today, of course, and I will sit in the front row because that’s my seat and if I swap, it might look like there was a reason for it. But what happened last night…cannot happen again.
I get dressed, this time pulling on a pair of jeans and a white sweater. I pull my hair into a ponytail because leaving it down makes me think about how he brushed it back with his hand. And if I think about things like that too long, I won’t be able to function during class.
I quickly chow down a protein bar, brush my teeth, and open the door.
All three of them are sitting in the common room. Waiting for me.
Becca sits on the couch with her legs crossed and a coffee in her hands, looking like a boss who’s been preparing for a sit-down with one of her employees. Dani is on the floor with a pillow in her lap, and Lourdes is leaning against the window, arms folded, an eyebrow raised at me.