Page 41 of The Professor
“You have a great body.” He roamed over my slight curves. “And excellent tits.” He cupped my left breast then moved to the right to caress and squeeze and catch my nipple. “I’ve been looking at them for years, trying to make a picture of their exact shape in my mind’s eye.”
Despite my anger, my pussy trembled with need. He talked about me being a tease, but he was just as bad.
“Like this.” He suddenly rolled me over so I was flat on my back and staring up at him. “Hold yourself, hold your tits together.”
He rose onto his knees and undid his belt. Next he undid his zipper and took out his erection.
My eyes widened; his cock was long and thick, he was circumcised, and there was a straight dark vein running along the upper side.
He took it in his fist and groaned. “I’ve got to bash one out, you’re killing me here.”
I said nothing and held my breasts together, creating a cleavage. My nipples were hard and my skin a little goose bumped.
“Ah fuck.” He sounded like he was in pain. Could a stonkingly hard erection do that?
I watched, fascinated, as he jerked off. His hand a blur it moved so fast. My body reacted to the erotic sight, my pussy dampening and my clit pulsing gently in anticipation.
His belly was etched with muscle, and over his right pec was a detailed tattoo of the scales of justice, a flourish of Latin letters beneath it.
“Ah, yeah…fuck, Chelsea…” He stared down at my chest, his mouth slack. “Fuck yeah…so pretty.”
He came, warm cum slapping onto my flesh in several spurts from his wide slit. Each release dragged a long, low groan from him.
He switched his attention to my face. “That would be better if I was inside you, but it will have to do for now.”
I was breathing fast.
A shadow from a car headlight filled the room.
He glanced at the window. “First of the evening punters. Ignore them, they’ll certainly ignore you if you try and get their attention for help.” He frowned. “But they have a different entrance to the one you’ve used.”
“Do you mean the one I’ve been dragged through against my will? Twice.”
“Yes, that.” He stood and did up his zipper and belt then adjusted his pants on his lean hips. “Stay here, I need to check on a few things.”
He left the room, though I didn’t hear the lock. My chest was wet and tacky, the cum quickly drying. I looked around for something to wipe it with. There was nothing. The room was lean on anything of use.
I stood, checked the strength in my legs—they seemed okay—then went to the door. In the distance music was playing, upstairs perhaps, something fast and beaty. Peering into the small wood-paneled hallway, I saw that it was empty. My nakedness didn’t deter me. This time I really did want to pee and I wanted to clean myself up.
So I scooted into the bathroom, once again locked the door, then peed. A large bolt and lock had been put on the window. “That was quick,” I muttered then cleaned my chest with loo roll.
My stomach rumbled. Was anyone planning on feeding me? It was late, dark now, and I was starving.
The hall was still empty, and I stood for a moment, in the shadows, contemplating my options. There was a locked door to my right, and before me what I presumed was the kitchen. A strip of light came from beneath its door, and there was a low growl of male voices.
I inhaled deeply, jutted my breasts forward, then opened the door. I stepped in, ass wiggling, and made for a work surface that contained a loaf of bread and toaster.
“What the fuck?” A loud exclamation.
In my peripheral vision were three male figures at a table.
One of them was Andrew. “Chelsea! Jesus Christ. What are you doing, woman?”
“I’m hungry. I’m going to make some toast.”
A woman, bright-red lips, jet-black hair, let her gaze slip down me. She wore a body-hugging neon-pink dress with killer heels to match. “Nice,” she said with a smile. “Great tits.” She took a puff of her vape and grinned.
“Thanks.” I reached for a slice of bread, giving the guys a good view of my red ass.
