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She shrugs, watching me out of the corner of her eye. “It just seems like a good place to keep your trophy.”
“My trophy, huh? Are you going to tell me how I earned it?”
“Now what would be the fun in that?” She places her hand on my thigh and rubs through my jeans. My cock hardens under her touch and she squirms in her seat, rubbing her thighs together like a cricket.
“If I reach over, am I going to find you wetter than the ocean you just jumped into, Miss Hamilton?”She lets out a breathy moan. “I fucking love it when you call me that.”
“Yeah? Why is that? Do you get off on knowing I’m your professor?” I ask in a husky voice. She doesn’t take her eyes off of me, just nods.
“Do you like being dominated?” I ask, eyebrows raised.
“I think so. Maybe? I didn’t really like what Julian did, but he didn’t ask. He just did what he wanted.” My knuckles grip the steering wheel so forcefully I think that I may rip it from my dashboard.
“Is that your ex?”
“Yes.” She nods and doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t need to. I already see red from the connotation of her words.
“Well, if this is our one night of debauchery, you better tell me everything you’d like to explore. What’s the harm, right?”She looks at me, mortified. “Um, you’ll be standing at the podium for the next twelve weeks, silently judging me for said kinks.”
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” I chuckle softly. She thinks it over so long that I think she’s reconsidered this whole night.“Deal.” Her hand resumes the torturous stroking, languid and firm against my jeans. In a twist I don’t see coming, she unbuckles her seatbelt and leans across the center console.
“Do you have a fucking death wish, Miss Hamilton?”
“No, professor, just a wish for a mouthful of your cock at the moment.”
“I’m going eighty miles per hour. Do you think now is a good time?” I’m half stalling, half actually concerned. There’s no doubt in my mind Olivia does everything to its fullest, unable to accept anything less than perfect.
“One night only, right?” she says, unzipping my jeans and wrapping her hand around the base of my pulsing cock.
“You better be committed to getting a mouthful of cum. I told you I wanted to taste you first, and you got the final say. I have no plans on taking it easy on your mouth if you’re sure this is what you want.”
“Oh, I’m sure. And Professor DeLuca? Unless you want me to drown us, you’re going to have to keep that filthy mouth to yourself.”
“There’s not a chance in hell of that happening.” She jerks me, the rhythm surprisingly close to as if I was doing it myself.Someone was paying attention. I can feel her looking up at me as her tongue darts to lick the head of my cock and I groan, fisting her still wet hair. Her skin smells like salt water and sandalwood. She moans against me as she wraps her lips around the tip and takes me deep in her throat.
“Fuck, Olivia. I may actually crash this goddamn car.” She comes back up for air, making a sexy little moan as she does.
“At least I'll die doing what I love.”
“You've only had your mouth on my cock for a minute at best.”
“That's all I need to know that I love it,” she says before she takes me as far as she can, gagging a little as I grip the back of her head.
“Is this too rough?”
“No.” She doesn't bother taking me out of her mouth to answer. Her pace becomes more punishing as she sucks me to various lengths, alternating her hands, tongue, and lips, and leaving me guessing what she's going to do next. My hips have a mind of their own as they drive upwards, desperate to get into her pretty little mouth deeper. Her sweet little whimpers filling the air are driving me to the brink of madness.
“Do me a favor?” she says, catching me off guard.
“Anything as long as you get that pretty mouth back on my cock, Miss Hamilton.”
“Wrap your hand around my throat again. That was so fucking hot,” she says before resuming, much to my relief.
I move my hand from her hair to her throat and she comes alive under my grip. Her dress rides up, giving me a perfect view of her round ass.
“Play with your pretty little pussy again.” She runs her hand back under her dress and grinds against her fingers, matching her mouth’s tempo.
“Such a hungry little cock slut. Aren't you, Miss Hamilton?” She nods as she slips two fingers inside of her, riding them. I have no idea where to look. I know I have to look at the road, but fuck. Between this and her mouth, I'm barely holding on. She comes first, fucking her fingers with reckless abandon and shattering like the waves crashing on the beach, right before my eyes. She's not quiet as she was before. It's clear that whatever was holding her back isn't any longer. Her fingers slow, but the tempo of my hips does not. I feel my own orgasm on the precipice. I grip her throat probably too tightly and I call her bluff, sending every last drop down her throat like she wanted.
