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“I know, I know,” Brandon gasps, digging his fingertips into my waist as he pummels me like a wild animal.
My orgasm mixes with his own again. My legs give out completely, but Brandon’s quick to support me with his strength.
But I’m not just calling out from pleasure.
The bits of my messages I can piece together all spell out one thing.
“Oh my god!” I finally say again between sucking in breaths, my whole body quaking and Brandon keeping a firm grip on me.
Sounding like he’s just run the four-minute mile. Finally, he gasps, “What Is it?” but the only response I can manage is a dry croak before I clear my throat to tell him.
“It’s my tutoring professor from college,” I exclaim, hoping that explains everything, but it doesn’t.
“So?” Brandon asks, and I can feel him throwing his head back, relishing every last second he’s inside me.
“I’m supposed to be tutoring students right now,” I gasp, my hand reaching back for him, begging his body to stay in me just a little longer, letting Brandon know what I prefer doing over what I know I should be doing today.
“Just tell ‘em you’re sick or something,” Brandon murmurs, folding himself over, so his torso covers my whole back.
His mouth is next to my ear as he whispers, glancing at the messages for himself.
“Tell ‘em you’ve been teaching someone else a lesson for a change… Tell ‘em you quit,” he adds.
He makes it sound so easy to do. So final.
As much as I don’t want to, I separate myself from him, and rolling onto my back, I sigh bitterly.
“It’s not that easy,” I explain.
“The professor in charge of tutoring just called my dad to ask where I was or if he’d seen me today,” I add.
“Oh,” Brandon says, catching on to the gravity of the situation.
“You were just helping me. Forgot all about it,” he offers, working his post-orgasmic brain, trying to find an easy solution to my problems so we can get on with what we both want instead.
“I gotta call him,” I murmur, starting to fret and worry again.
Shit!
All the feelings, all those responsibilities of my own I thought I could just replace with Brandon. They’re already starting to come back to bite me on the ass.
Brandon slides onto his back next to me, our chests still heaving. His hand slips into mine, and he gives it a gentle squeeze as we lay silent for a while.
Neither of us wants to speak of or even suggest we just get up, get dressed, and get on with our days.
Because that’s just not gonna work anymore, either.
“Can it wait an hour?” he finally asks, catching me off guard.
“You ready to go again?” I ask him, astonished by his prowess between the sheets, but he only chuckles at my question.
“I could, sure,” he says, sounding sure of himself, lifting himself up onto one elbow again, stroking my hair back.
“But I was just gonna run us a bath is all.” He smiles. “One thing I’ve learned is that no matter how bad or big a problem is, it can always wait an hour. And my queen deserves a soak in the tub,” he says, pecking my nose with a kiss.
“One bath. And nothing else,” I caution him, holding up a finger of warning until we’re both laughing as he helps me up.
Walking me through to the bathroom like I’m an old lady, my legs may never be the same again after today.
