Page 48 of Prosecco with My Professor
One and done.
23
Santo
Now that Ihave Emma’s number, we text all the time. Vincente doesn’t appreciate the pictures of Zola, but Emma does. After the first one she didn’t respond for a while, but later she sent me a picture of herself with a very similar looking bow on her head and the messagewe match.
My Christmas was lonely, but I went over to Vincente’s house for dinner, and I saw Bell two days ago to take her out to a nice dinner and give her a Christmas present—a Hermes purse I know she has had her eye on and another one to send back to her mother for Christmas.
I have a quiet week catching up on paperwork, which includes grading the last of Emma’s assignments and giving her a passing grade. Next term, I have her in my Managing People and Organization course.
She’s not back from the States until January 2, spending time with her kids for as long as she can. Vincente has me over to his house for a small New Year’s party, where I ring in the New Year avoiding another guest who wants to come home with me, and then avoiding Vincente’s questions about why I’m not interested in her.
She’s forward and pushy and asked about my father. But I can’t stop fantasizing about one particular blushing, prematurely gray, tall, and buxom woman whose pussy I want to eat.
The next day, just after lunch, I get a message from Emma. I do some mental calculations and it must be first thing in the morning for her.
Emma
Happy New Year. I get back tomorrow.
I was wondering…does your offer still stand?
Santo
Yes.
Emma
Are you sure? You could get fired.
Santo
I’m sure.
I know the risks I’m taking. I want this. And it’s just one night.
What I don’t say is that I need this too. Ever since the night Emma ran out, it’s felt like an unfinished sentence. I tasted something and had it taken away from me, and I crave more of it.
Emma
Your place or mine?
Santo
Mine. Tomorrow.
Emma
My flight gets in at 4. I’ll be over around 6?
Santo
Perfect.
I am hard all day thinking about Emma. Eva and Oliver are out of town for the holidays, and I’m not sure when they get back, but it means that I have no barking to accompany me when I can’t take anymore and lie down in bed and stroke myself.
I don’t miss it.
