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)
“You,” he replies slowly. “You sitting in that chair with that cute notebook, asking me these questions. That would count.”
My body reacts and does several things simultaneously. My breath stops, my nipples go erect, and the place between my thighs—the one with ten thousand nerve endings—pulses like a pounding drum. And my hand moves on its own: I am the sustained psychological stimulation…
I can’t take this any longer. Seven questions? What was I thinking?
I can feel the arousal between my legs. My face is burning from the blush. I’m falling apart.
Time to skip to the last question.
“Can I see it?”
The silence that follows is so tense I can hear my own heartbeat. August doesn’t move for at least three seconds. It’s an anxiety thing. My brain just defaults to measurement when it doesn’t know what else to do.
Then he stands. And reaches for his belt.
My chest tightens.
He moves slowly and with the deliberateness of someone who is fully aware of what he’s doing. He knows this is wrong, but he’s doing it anyway. And he wants me to understand that.
And I do.
My chest tightens as the leather slides through the buckle. The top button pops, and his zipper comes down.
Despite my best efforts, my jaw drops, and my eyes widen. What I’m looking at is not what the textbook prepared me for.
The textbook had a diagram of the male reproductive anatomy. In the diagram, the phallus was four inches long and labeled with nice clean arrows pointing to the glans, the shaft, the frenulum, the scrotum. It was very informative but clinical and sterile.
What August holds in his hand now is not the diagram. What stands out straight from between his legs is at least twice the size from the book and thick—thicker than my wrist, I’d be willing to bet. He wraps his strong hand around it, and I watch the muscles in his forearm flex.
“The corpora cavernosa,” he says, his voice frayed at the edges. “Two chambers of erectile tissue that run the length of the shaft.”
The shaft…
The word buzzes through me like a jolt from my new toy, sending my already humming body into a new state of arousal.
“When engorged, they cause the rigidity.”
I swallow hard, and when I speak, my voice comes out at least an octave higher than normal. “It’s—” I start but have to swallow again. Jeez, I sound like a fairy! “The diagram I saw…the scale was misleading.”
August’s mouth twists now into an actual smile, a devilish smirk that seizes me like his bulky arms.
I feel it now. I’m sitting in a puddle.
“Diagrams are standardized for the average,” he says with unbridled confidence.
“And you…are not average.”
“Neither are you, gorgeous. Neither are you.”
He comes around the desk and stands before me, his erection standing out straight like a flagpole. Like a Spartan spear. From this distance, his enormity is even more striking. My tongue traces my lower lip on its own, and I realize I’m drooling.
I’m looking up. He’s looking down. My breath is uneven. His is deep and controlled.
You know what he wants you to do…
Cautiously, I reach up and wrap my fingers around him.
He makes a sound. Not quite a groan and not quite a gasp. I don’t even know how to classify it. But I like it.
“L-like this?” I ask tentatively. I genuinely don’t know. They don’t cover this sort of thing in the book.
“Tighter,” he says, closing his hand over mine, adjusting my grip. His head sinks, his forehead nearly touching mine. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.”
I move my hand up and down, stroking him as he guides me, testing angle and speed. The feedback from August is immediate, and knowing that I have this kind of power over him has me elated.
When I twist my wrist slightly at the tip, he sucks in a breath. And when I squeeze down at the base, he slams his palm flat on the desk to brace himself. That’s when I see a bead of moisture that has gathered at the head.
“The frenulum,” I say, tracing the underside of the ridge with my thumb, thinking of the diagram I studied. “The textbook said it was the most sensitive part—”
“Jessie.” His hand grabs the edge of his desk, his knuckles turning white. “You must stop quoting the textbook while you’re doing this, or it’s going to be over very fast.”
Again, his words strike me, scorching me with pride. Such a big, strong, rugged man, and I can make his body jerk with a single movement of my hand.
I love this… I love it.
“Can I…use my mouth?” I ask. His chest expands as he looks down at me. “Please, teach me, Professor.”
His eyes are wrecked. Green and shadowed but also glassy with something I’m learning to recognize: lust. Something that goes far beyond the anatomical framework we’ve been working within.