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Shit!My whole body trembles as the thought of thrusting my cock in the fat girl's pussy become vivid in my head. My blood boils, pushing me to a climax, and – like a stick of short-fused dynamite – I'm about to explode with a desire I never had.
“Cum inside me, Ethan. I want your baby,” Mallows says under her moan. Her words pull me out of my imagination.
“Mouth,” I tell her. The professor shakes her head. I frown and pull her down the desk. “Mouth,” I push her into a kneeling position, leveling her head on my cock.
Grabbing the top of her head, I thrust my cock into her mouth until I hit her throat. She gags while I release and force her to swallow my cum again. I smile while she spits out the residue. Mallows' face is red with anger, but humiliation is part of the game. No. It's part of the plan I want to enforce – treating women's mouths as my cum bin.
It shouldn't be all women that I have sex with but only for one. But I have to practice humiliating that one woman. She will be the ultimate receptacle for my cum.
“Why do you love doing it?” Mallows says while wiping her mouth.
"You love it anyway, Professor," I smirk arrogantly at her. Her frown turns into a smile when I suck her tits. Before I can say anything, she positions herself on all fours and offers her ass to me.
“Let’s do more,” she says.
I look out of the window. The pouring rain has reduced to a drizzle.Shit. She must be gone by now.But she isn't. My heart jumps when I see her standing under the rain, still fascinated by the drops touching her skin.Those should have been my kisses.Heat engulfs me when my thought shocks my nerves. How the hell does she make me think that way? She shouldn’t. I shouldn’t let her.
“I have to go,” I pull up my pants and grab my shirt.
I look down at Mallows’ ass. It’s plump, but it would be nicer to conquer the fat girl’s hole because of her better cushion. I turn away from Mallows.Soon, I’ll have it.The fat girl will be under and above me, screaming my name.
“Ethan!” the professor calls. “You can’t turn away from me. I can fire you!”
I ignore her and walk out of her office. Her threats do not affect me as she can't handle losing me. That old hag is crazy over me and my cock. She'll stop everyone from getting it but won't stop wanting it.
#
Sasha
What was I thinking?I stop, look at the angry sky, and laugh. Another lightning flash dances in the dark cloud; a roaring thunder follows. This is life. I blow a shaky breath and rub my hands together to keep myself warm. Some who see me will think I'm crazy. For a moment, I was. I've never been out in the rain since I was five. No. I've never been out of my father's sight since that age.
My little rain dance is a celebration of my freedom. Because of a family tragedy, my father refused to let me be out of the house without him or a dozen bodyguards. I never went to a regular school and only had private tutors. Hence, I grew up with no friends – except for one. My uncle, Vigo Molotov.
He's not my real uncle but one of my father's most trusted men and often my guardian during my father's absence. Uncle Vigo helped me escape my father's control last month and got me into this private college. I don't know how he did it, but he pulled it off. And judging that my father hasn't come down to drag me back home, Uncle Vigo must have convinced him to make me stay, or Papa must be flipping half of the American soil by now to find me.
Friends.I've been here for two weeks but haven't made any friends yet. Students here have a thing about fat girls. I look at my reflection through the glass window of the tiny guard house, where I take shelter for a moment.
My size never bothered me. Well, nobody dares to insult their boss's daughter. I know it isn't ideal for many men, but I'm fat for a reason. Papa didn't want anyone from his circle to find me attractive. Before my mother died, she also told me that. My fatness is a gift that will allow me to love who I want someday. I didn't get it at first, but now I do.
Had I been hot and beautiful, my father's "associates" would have demanded an arranged marriage to one of their sons by now. Papa cannot object to it once their organization has decided. My marriage to any of them will be the death of me, like how my mother's marriage was her death. But since I'm fat, we manage to evade their demands. No Bratva lieutenant would sacrifice their heir to an unattractive woman.
Papa told me to wait a little more, and he'll allow me to live how I want. But I'm not getting any younger. I'm twenty-three and never had a life outside my father's compound. Women my age live independently, have jobs, graduate college, and have children. Me? I remain a sheltered princess. So when Uncle Vigo offered to help me escape, I didn't hesitate.
I take a good look at my reflection. No one here knows me as the daughter of a Bratva brigadier; I'm just Sasha Belov, a temporary exchange student from Belarus. I can't fulfill my entire wishlist, but I plan to make the most of this short window of freedom. Have a short course in college. Wander alone under the night sky. Be crazy - like running around under the rain. And if fate allows it, maybe have a short romance. There must be a man who doesn't care about size around here.
My wet sweater clings to my body as I pull it away from my skin. Its knitted wool molds to my curves. I can't help but feel a sense of pride. Except for my size, I don't find any flaws in me. Some may find me daft because I don't know much about life, but in terms of beauty, I'm nothing laughable.
Uncle Vigo jokes I'm lucky to have most of my mother's features and not my Papa's. But we share the same eyes – grayish green – which many find adorable. My chubby cheeks shrink my button nose, but it still looks pleasant. I puck my lips and smile. But everyone says my lips are the best. And when I say everyone, it's just my Papa and Vigo. I have the same lips as my mother; she looked like a goddess because of them.
My eyebrows furrow in curiosity as my reflection becomes distorted. I look up to see my face and am shocked to find dark blue eyes staring back at me, mixing with the colors of my eyes. The sparkling sapphires hold me captive for a moment, pulling me into a different world. My heart suddenly races, sending a wave of pressure through my head, making me lightheaded and almost throwing me into a fantasy.
Wait! Has the coldness and the rain messed up my head? Why am I filled with excitement? I lower my eyes and find a figure of a half-naked man behind the glass. His tattoos are visible from the window. The squares of his abs wave at me. Okay. I'm coming down with a cold, probably. I'm imagining stuff right now. Why would I be standing in front of a half-naked man?
I laugh a bit. Does rain make somebody horny?
Papa kept me out of the world, but it doesn't mean I never had worldly curiosity or desire. I have looked into magazines with sexy male models, and the man behind the glass window is sexier. I've had fantasies of men with that build, where I brush my palm against the sculpted torso while I lie beside him, and he lifts my face and kisses me while I trace the lines defining the blocks of his abs.Sasha!
I raise my head to look into the beautiful set of eyes again, but fear slaps me when I catch the darkness in the man's eyes. Why is he looking at me with hate? The look in his eyes, his build, and tattoos frightens me. I grew up with my father's scary goons, but none of them had any effect on me. But the man behind the window – I don't even know him, yet with one look, something tells me I should run away.
