Chapter 3
AUGUST
Jessie shows up four minutes early. Of course she does. She’s a model student and wants to make sure I know.
I hear her dainty knock on the door and stand up from my desk. But then I sit down again. I’m a grown man. I’m not going over to that door like a dog who just heard the treat box open.
I take a breath and collect myself. I’ve performed some of the most dangerous medical procedures ever and my hands never shook. But right now, I feel the hint of a tremble.
What is this girl doing to me?
I wait a moment, then call out to her, “Come in!” The door opens, and it’s like I’m hit with a paralytic.
She stands there in a floral yellow dress that might look domestic on someone else but makes her look like a sex kitten. My mouth waters as I look her over, fighting to maintain composure.
Her hair is down too. She changed from the last time I saw her. Is she just trying to be proper? Or does she feel some of what I feel too?
“Hello,” she says. Her voice is like an upper and a downer at the same time. It calms my breathing but causes my heart to race.
She looks around my office with genuine curiosity, taking in the bookshelves, the anatomy diagrams on the walls. And of course, she goes over to examine the skeleton standing in the corner.
“Wow. Fully articulated?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Real or composite?”
“Oh, it’s real.”
She looks at me, stunned, then back at it. “Wow. Does he have a name?”
I think for a moment, then answer, “Gerald.” Seems about right to name him after the son of a bitch who’s trying to destroy my career.
Her laugh hits me in the chest. A layman might not recognize where, but I know.
It’s my heart. I spent years operating on others’ but have forgotten to protect my own.
Smiling, she turns from Gerald and holds up her notebook. “I already did some reading. I found the course’s recommended texts and came up with some questions that I thought might—”
“Sit down, Miss Monroe.”
She obeys immediately. Christ, this girl will be the death of me.
She folds her delicate hands on top of her notebook and looks at me from across the desk with an expression of complete innocence, like she’s just waiting for me to tell her what to do.
I think about what I heard her friends talking about back at the coffee cart. The fact that this untouched beauty is sitting in my office. And then I think about what I’m going to do…
I’m going to hell.
“We’re going to start with the autonomic nervous system,” I say slowly. “Which governs every subconscious function of your body. Heart rate, respiration, digestion…” I pause. “Sexual arousal.”
Something flickers in those beautiful brown eyes of hers. It’s brief. Then it’s gone.
I stand and come around the desk to her side. “The sympathetic system prepares the body for an experience while the parasympathetic calms. Your body does this on its own, without your conscious permission. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” she says softly. “And this is…the gap in my knowledge?”
My God, she’s so sincere. So naively sincere.
“That’s right,” I say, sweeping my eyes up the curves of her legs and hips, barely hidden beneath the thin fabric of her dress. I search for panty lines but see none. Is it possible such an innocent girl as this wouldn’t be wearing any?
She opens her notebook and reaches for her pen.
“You won’t need to take notes,” I tell her. She looks up, confused. “What I’m going to teach you, Jessie, goes far beyond your curriculum. And it requires your complete attention.”
The moment hangs between us like a wire being pulled taut. The afternoon sunlight spills in through my office windows above and catches her hair, causing a halo effect.
She’s an angel, and I’m a devil, moments away from corrupting her.
“All right,” she says, setting her notebook down. “Professor Holt, you have my full attention.”
“Are you aware of what triggers the autonomic nervous system, Jessie?”
She swallows, drawing my attention to her throat. So delicate. So smooth. How much of my cock could she swallow?
“Well…perceived threats,” she replies quickly, clearly having done some reading. “Or…”
She stops.
“Or?”
A tomato-red flush spreads across her cheeks quickly, starting at the base of her neck and moving up. Blushing, she looks down at her hands, then back up at me.
“Well, I don’t have much experience with the or.” Wow, she’s just so honest and upfront it makes me want her even more.
“So,” I say slowly, drumming my fingers on the desk, “I guess your friends were right.”
She blinks, and her brow twists adorably as she processes. “My…friends?”
“What do you know, Jessie?” I ask, moving closer. “About your own body? Practically. Not theoretically.”
Her blush deepens and spreads, but I watch her considering the question genuinely. My pants tighten more as my cock swells with blood, throbbing with every beat of my heart.
“Um, not much,” she admits, looking down. “I’ve…read about certain things, but I’ve never had anyone—”
“To teach you,” I say.
She meets my eyes. “Yes. To teach me.”
I’m dying inside. Like a feral wolf, I want to devour this impeccable girl. Drag my tongue across every inch of her body and taste her. The adorable dress she’s wearing is like dirty glass covering a flawless painting. It needs to be removed. Now.
But I can’t do that.
I’m her professor. That would be an abuse of power. I must keep this lesson strictly educational. I’ll explain to her how her body works, and I won’t lay a finger on her. Then I’ll go home and take a long, cold shower.
That’s my plan.
But it instantly evaporates as she shifts in her chair, causing the hem of her dress to ride up, exposing more of the buttery smooth skin of her thigh.
My autonomic nervous system kicks in causing my cock to go rock-hard beneath my pants. And yet again, I feel the beads of sweat starting to form by my temples.
“Your body knows things you don’t, Jessie,” I say, my voice low. “My job, as your professor, is to introduce you to those things.”
My hand, as if reacting to a gravitational force, moves slowly toward her. I can feel her body heat, smell the flowery scent of her soap. That’s not what I want to smell right now, though. What I want in my nostrils is hidden between her legs.
Losing control, I reach out and brush back a bit of hair from her face—a piece that was denying me full access to her beauty.
“Is that all right?” I ask. I should warn her about what she’s getting herself into, but I’m just not able to.
“Y-yes…” she whispers.
My fingers graze her cheekbone, and she makes a tiny sound, so soft I almost miss it. Then her sweet eyes go wide.
“I–I felt something. That was my—?”
“Yes.” I nod. “Your autonomic nervous system. It’s called arousal, Jessie. Sexual arousal.”
She stares up at me with a mixture of scientific astonishment and pure, personal awe. Like she’s just observed something she’s only ever read about and didn’t fully believe until right now.
“Oh…that’s what they meant.”
That’s it. I’ve lost it.
Leaning in, I slide my hand up the nape of her neck and bring my lips to hers.
She goes completely still as I envelop her mouth with mine. For a second, I’m sure she’s going to pull back. I’ve gone too far. Lord forgive me.
But then her lips part, and she kisses me back with all of her innocence and inexperience mixed together. Her soft hands reach up and grab the front of my shirt.
She’s so clumsy it’s actually adorable. She has no idea what she’s doing, and that just makes me want her more.
I’m going to teach this little fairy everything.
I’ll bring pleasure to every inch of her body, every nerve ending.
I’ll teach her just how to please me and bring her more pleasure than she knows how to process.
I pull back. She leans in, chasing my lips with hers before catching herself. Eyes open, dazed and wet, her fingers tighten in my shirt.
“W-why did you stop?” she asks.
Because if I don’t stop now, I’m going to toss everything off my desk and fuck her so hard and so loud that the entire campus will hear. I’ll get fired, maybe even arrested, and my name will be all over the Internet.
Still, I can’t stop fully.
“Because, Jessie, that was only your mouth,” I reply, running my thumb across her lower lip, watching her body quiver. “And what I need to teach you is not about your mouth.”
Her lips part. I lift her notebook from her lap and toss it to the floor. She lets me, like she’s surrendering to me without even realizing it.
“The body is a hierarchy of sensations,” I say slowly, tracing my fingertips down her clavicle, down to the neckline of her dress, stopping just at the line of her delicious cleavage.
She’s watching my hand, taking shallow breaths as I catalogue every delicate inch, every response she makes. It’s like examining an angel.
“Some are incidental, merely functional,” I continue, moving my hand back up to her jaw. Her body shivers. My lips threaten to smile. “Others are significant.”
My hand travels down. Down over the fabric of her dress, down between her plump breasts, so warm and soft I nearly lose myself. Her back arches involuntarily, pressing her tits into my palm, and my cock jerks desperately behind my zipper.
No. Not yet. This isn’t about me.
“And some, Miss Monroe,” I say, my voice low and intent, “are the top of the top.”
She takes a breath and focuses on me. “Show me.”
Without hesitation, I kneel. Now she’s in the chair, and I’m on my knees in front of her, in a position I have never occupied in this office or anywhere else, for that matter.
I haven’t even known this girl for a day, and while the clinical part of my brain that is telling me this is wrong is still functioning, the primal part is overriding everything.
“There are around ten thousand nerve endings here, Jessie,” I say, placing my hands on her knees. Her skin is so warm and smooth against my palms. My chest is tight, my cock pulsing desperately.
I spread her legs, and she lets me, her fingers curling around the arms of the chair.
“Where?” she asks.
“In a tiny little structure that is smaller than the tip of your finger,” I reply, holding up my pinky. “You know what I’m referring to?”
Her blush deepens. She looks away for a moment, then back to me and nods. “Y-yes… The…clitoris?”
She replies like she’s answering a question on an oral exam. Right on the money but detached. Proper. The total opposite of the flush that’s moving down her neck and disappearing into the neckline of that yellow dress that’s keeping me from the best view in the house.
“Very good, Miss Monroe.” Fighting to maintain control, I slide my hands up her thighs, taking the hem of her dress with me as I go, slow enough that she’s aware of every inch of progress. “Ten thousand nerve endings. More than anywhere else in the human body.”
The fabric bunches at her curvaceous hips. My eyes lock on to hers. There’s a tiny pause, then she lifts slightly, allowing me to push higher. That little movement of obedience almost breaks me.
Not to mention the creamy skin just calling for my tongue…
“All those nerve endings exist for one purpose, Miss Monroe. Do you know what that is?” Her eyes wide, she swallows hard and shakes her head. “Pleasure. Pure pleasure.”
“P-pleasure…” Her voice is soft. It’s almost a question but more like she’s just repeating my words to me.
“And no one has ever introduced you properly. Have they, Jessie?”
She shakes her head again. “N-no…”
That’s right. I’ll be the first one.
“That ends right now.”
It turns out she is wearing underwear. A tiny, thin pair of white panties. I hook my fingers under the waistband and pull. She lifts her hips again, helping me remove them.
Her face is peach-red now, and her breath is fast and shallow. I’m definitely sweating as my eyes land on the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
A tiny, untouched, bare, pink slit. Jessie’s pussy.
“Mr. Holt,” she says. Christ, I might never recover from this, and we’ve barely gotten started. “No one has ever seen me like this—”
“No? Then why do you shave?” I demand, a hint of anger rising in my chest.
She chokes on her words, then quickly stammers back. “I dunno. My friends all said that’s what you do… Is it okay?”
The burning sensation dissipates. I shake it off and take a deep breath. “Yes, baby. It’s okay. In fact, it will make today’s lesson much easier.”