Page 4 of Pining For My Professor
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But he’s my professor.Walking next to Dylan through the quad, I feel like I’m being torn in two. On the one hand, the man I’ve been obsessing about for months is so close to me that I can practically taste him. On the other, still veryreal, hand, as of five days ago he was my professor, reading my writing and assigning me grades, lecturing at the front of the classroom with complete power over the entireroom.
Suddenly, Dylan shakes me out of my inner debate by clutching my hips and pressing me into him. We’re facing one another again, alone on the quad. Muffled noises from the party echo through the night air: the rest of the world is only a flicker at the edge of ouruniverse.
“Maxine.”
“My friends actually call me Max,” I manage to say. The truth is that I can barely muster the strength to speak. My entire body is on fire. All I want is for him to kiss me. I think it’s all I’ve everwanted.
“So, we’re friends,then?”
“I don’t know. Can professors be friends with theirstudents?”
“I’m not your professoranymore.”
“Good point,” I whisper back. And then I go for it. Ifinallygo forit.
I reach up and hold his head ever so slightly in my hands, pulling him towards me. I softly press my lips onto his, and even our first few pecks feel life-changing. Once his tongue slips into my mouth, all bets are off. His hands slide down to my ass, and his fingers slowly – almost painfully slowly – play with the hem of my toga, lifting it up almost imperceptibly. I moan into his mouth and he grows morebrazen.
“Fuck this,” he says, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he swiftly lifts me up. I was right. Hedoeshave the kind of muscles that can lift a woman up without missing abeat.
He walks forward until I’m pressed into one of the huge oak trees that lines the quad. His lips leave mine and I practically groan with disappointment until I realize that he’s moving on to my neck, my ears, mycollarbone.
He licks my earlobe and whispers, “Max. I’ve wanted this since the first day of the semester. I knew I’d have you. I haven’t touched another woman since the day you walked into myclassroom.”
His dick is hard and strains against those infamous tight jeans. I can feel it against my panties as we grind into one another. I’ve never loved these beautiful oak trees as much as I do now.They’re not just decorative – they’re functional, too.I wrap my ankles even tighter around his back. He can tell that I’m close to orgasm and starts to slow our rhythmdown.
“Dylan, don’t stop.Fuck.”
“Baby, you don’t understand. I’m just getting started. But the things I want to do to you? We need to be in my apartment.Now.”
