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She nods, her eyes huge. “Yeah, okay.” She scrambles off the bed on the other side, but the sheet gets tugged with her, revealing just how out of control I really am. Just how much she’s affected me. Just how much I want this sweet woman with an angel face and a body made for sin.
“Oh my God,” she looks away quickly, but the damage is done, and she runs out.
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Katie
OH. MY. GOD. MY HEARTis racing, and I can’t breathe.
Professor Sanders, otherwise known on campus as Professor McFuckme, is HUGE.
That thing is big, very big, and thick. So thick. And it curves upward from its base of pubic hair, like it’s...proud of itself. It should be. He has possibly the world’s best penis. I’m not, like, a connoisseur or anything. My direct experience with penises involves a few handjobs in the dark. But I’ll admit to using the internet for nefarious purposes from time to time. I’ve seen some nice-looking ones in 2D, and I have a 3D model in the nightstand that kind of squicks me out because it’s too lifelike yet disembodied. Disembodied parts make for some less than sexy experiences in my book. I much prefer the showerhead.
At any rate, he puts both pornstars and the dildo to shame. And now I have to hope and pray he doesn’t open the nightstand drawer until I can pack my things. I do not want him to find my dildo. Or my vibrator. Or my other sex toys. I’d prefer to keep my deviant nature to myself. There is a buttplug in there that doesn’t get used often, but I still don’t think it’s any of his business.
Even though this is his house. Damn that Devon.
I can’t believe I saw Professor McFuckme’s dick. I feel like the Chosen One. Every girl on campus nurses a crush on him. And his dick is a fabled thing, for above all else, everyone knows Professor McFuckme would never fuck a student. Speculation about what it looks like and how well he probably uses it is common chatter.
I’m blushing in places normal people don’t blush. Because I can’tunseehis dick, and I still have to face him again in a minute with both of us knowing his dick is now...something between us.
Is there a better, stronger word for “awkward”? Awkwardamundo?
This is bad. This is so very, very bad.
I’m trying to blink away the picture of the behemoth penis from my mind’s eye when my girly parts pipe in with the reminder of how that penis felt when it was touching them more intimately than they’ve been touched in a while. They get very little action, you see. And none of it has ever been a real penis. They’ve spent some time with the fingers of boyfriends past, but they’d like to state for the record that naked behemoth penis is more interesting.
I don’t know what to do, so I make tea. That’s so weird, I know. But tea seems safe and everything else feels out of control. I start the electric kettle and get down a couple of mugs. My hands are shaking now. It’s a mix of a little adrenaline from when I thought I was being molested by a stranger, a little adrenaline from when I realized it was instead the hottest professor on campus, and a little adrenaline from seeing him naked. That’s a lot oflittleadrenalines, and they all add up.
He clears his throat before he enters the kitchen, giving me plenty of warning to get my shit together when I look up. Instead, my eyes go straight to his groin. I want to die. Kill me now. I turn and open the cabinet under the sink, moving bottles of cleaner and such around.
“What are you looking for?” he asks.
“Arsenic for my tea. Is there any rat poison down here?”
He laughs, and God, even his chuckle is sexy. I stand up and turn to him, willing my eyes to his face this time.
His cheeks are stubbled sexily. Usually, he’s pretty clean-cut on campus. “Why don’t we save the rat poison for the rat who got us into this mess?”
“Devon,” I answer.
“Devon,” he repeats.
The texture of his face is making my thighs quiver. I’m not used to such visceral reactions to men. I really need to get myself together here.
“I’m sorry I barged in on you like that, Professor. I really had no idea you were home. Or that this was your home. And I was just trying to get Devon to wake up and get out of my bed.”
“So he doesn’t share it with you, then?” he asks. He says it casually, but his eyes are a little on the intense side.
I shudder and make a retching noise. “God, no.” I slap my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. He’s your brother.” Way to insult the man’s family.
He seems relieved, not mad. “I’m glad you have the good sense to stay away from him.” He takes the bags out of the tea and picks up both our cups. “Let’s sit down in the living room and see if we can sort this mess out.”
And that’s when it hits me that the way we sort this mess out is by me moving, and my stomach starts churning with nerves and worry. Where can I go tonight? Especially when it’s so late? And I don’t have enough money to rent a place after I paid for books. Everyone is already settled with their roommates for the semester.
I sit down, and he takes a seat next to me on the couch. He smells intoxicating. My nipples pebble at his hella masculine scent. Tingles tease over my flesh, giving me goose bumps. He shouldn’t be allowed to smell that good. I feel like his mere proximity could get a girl pregnant. He’s just so virile and manly. I mentally order my ovaries to stand down.
Then we just sit. Quietly and without speaking. Because, now what? There are no etiquette books for this kind of thing. Well, maybe there are, but I’ve never actually looked at an etiquette book. I’m guessing the index doesn’t include things likePenis, accidental viewingof orSleeping, groping strangers while.
