Page 56 of Prosecco with My Professor
I’m getting an MBA inEurope,and I had a mind-blowing orgasm from an extremely hot man, and then I told my friends about it.
This is me living my best life.
And it allcomes crashing down the next morning. This is why I shouldn’t have hooked up with my professor because, when his class is the first of the day, several things happen.
My face goes completely red when I see him.
My legs clench together while I have very vivid flashbacks in class, which leaves my panties a mess and me unable to focus on anything else.
He treats me exactly like every other student, but I obsess about how he might not be looking at me as much or purposefully not looking at me at all.
I feel paranoid and needy all at the same time.
I remember his erection tenting his pants, and even though I told my friends I was glad it ended when it did, I realize I actually, desperately want to go down on him.
27
Santo
I have never beenin so much pain in my life.
It’s not unusual for one of us in the over-fifty team to have an injury, but this is the first time it’s happened to me.
Sure, I have the usual aches and pains that we all experience, and my knees pop and get super stiff if I sit wrong, and there was that time that I fell at Emma’s and strained my back.
This feels different, though, and it’s bad enough that I had to call Vincente to come help me get off the football pitch and go home. It’s been three weeks since the start of the new term, since I pleasured Emma, and now I have to live with seeing her every day. The mid-January air is chilly enough to send goose bumps up the exposed skin of my arms and legs now that I’m not running the pitch. I should have put my jacket on, but now it’s too much of an inconvenience since we are almost home.
My team was in the middle of a game, and all I had done was look back at the player who had possession, a simple move of running while twisting my body, and next thing I knew, I was down on the ground in pain.
“Okay,” Vincente says once we get into the lobby of the building, “almost there.”
On the drive over, thanks to Vincente’s urging, I called Chiara and she told me to lie down and ice my back and that she would come by this evening to check on me. The rest of her instructions were to Vincente, to make sure I didn’t move too much and definitely couldn’t lift anything.
The stairs hurt. Every step twinges my lower back.
“Should have taken you back to my place,” Vincente mutters.
“Yes, I’m sure my addition to your household would be very welcome,” I say through gritted teeth. Their house is too small as it is, but they’ve put up with it for this long, and the boys will be out of the house in a few years, god willing. Also, his wife is allergic to cats. “Mine and Zola’s.”
“That demon will survive without you for a few days. We could have gotten your neighbor to check in on her. You know, the hot one. What was her name? Starts with an E?”
I almost say Emma until I realize he means Eva. Vincente doesn’t know that Emma is my neighbor. “Eva.”
“That’s the one.”
I grunt. Eva is still dating someone, and hasn’t been around much anymore. And Oliver goes with her, so things are definitely quieter here.
We have to pause at the top of the stairs for a break. I’m breathing hard and still sweaty from the match, although now it might be overridden by pain sweat. I’m not sure it should hurt this bad.
Now it’s time to pass Emma’s door.Please don’t be home, please don’t be home.Emma and I haven’t had a private moment in these three weeks. We’re back to a relationship where I’m just her professor and jerk off to thoughts of her in secret (when Oliver is not home). The difference is now I know how she sounds and feels when she comes.
I hate it. I got the closure I thought I needed. I know how that night would have ended, with the tastes and smells and the sounds. Instead, I’m wondering why I can’t do that again and berating myself over and over for thinking it was a good idea. I still want her just as badly as I did before–no, worse.
“Santo, man, you need to breathe. Is it that bad?”
Emma’s door flies open at the sound of my name. As soon as she catches sight of my face, her eyes widen. “Santo? What happened?”
“Ms. Chance?” Vincente asks, confusion in his voice.
