Chapter 4
AUGUST
No one will ever see her like this again. She’s mine.
My self-restraint is quickly crumbling. I lean in and press my mouth to the soft skin on the inside of her knee, causing her entire body to jolt.
“I–I’m sorry,” she apologizes. But I shush her.
“It’s just an involuntary response from your nervous system. Don’t be embarrassed.”
She nods quickly, her tits heaving with each breath.
I kiss higher, relishing the smooth warmth of her intimate skin. By the time I’ve reached my goal, she’s no longer jumping at the touch of my lips. But that’s about to change.
I inhale deeply, drenching my lungs with her feminine scent. My eyes close as I embed it into my memory. Christ, I could stay here forever—lap at her sweet hole until the universe comes to an end.
The first lick, however, is slow. Just getting her used to it.
She gasps as I part her smooth pussy lips with my tongue and drag it up from her soaked entrance to the bundle of nerves I just lectured her about. I’m so delicate when I reach it, but she still jerks so violently that the chair scoots back an inch.
I snatch her hips and pull her back against me.
“Now let me show you what all those nerve endings do.”
I eat her unclaimed pussy with a hunger I can no longer contain. I try to be gentle but fail miserably. Her taste is heaven. Like something I’ve been starving for without even realizing I was hungry. She’s sweet and juicy, but most of all, she’s mine.
As her arousal drips down my cheeks and chin, I close my lips around her clit and start sucking.
Her hips jolt off the chair like she’s been electrified.
“Oh my God, oh my God—”
“That’s your clitoris, Miss Monroe,” I whisper, keeping my mouth against the tender bundle. Yes, I’m going to narrate this to her. I may be a man wrapped up by a fevered desire, but I am still her professor. I’m still giving her a lesson. “There’s even more internally, known as the—”
“Professor—” she cries out, and I stop talking. I use my mouth for what it’s meant for.
She grabs my hair with both fists as she comes. Her thighs clamp down around my head, and a moan pours out of her lips that I feel all the way through me. The desperate, shocked sound of a woman who has just discovered a secret of life that no one bothered to tell her about.
Her whole-body quivers, and her heels dig into my back. She tugs on my hair hard enough to hurt, but I don’t care. In fact, I welcome it. It’s just a sign of how much she’s loving this.
Not to mention the pain is the only thing keeping me from exploding in my pants.
She starts to come down, but I don’t stop. She stops pulling my hair and tries to push me away. “W-wait—it’s too—too sensitive!”
“That’s called the refractory period,” I growl into her delicious cunt as she trembles. I’ll allow her ten seconds of mercy before I go back to teaching. “It’s shorter for women than for men. Sometimes, it’s nonexistent.”
I press two fingers against her entrance and slowly slide them inside. Christ, she’s tight.
Her head falls back, and her mouth opens in a silent scream. I watch as her eyes roll back and smile. She is soaked, dripping onto the leather of my office chair.
I’ll never wash it again.
“This is the anterior vaginal wall.” I curl my fingers up and apply pressure. Again, her mouth falls open. “This is sometimes referred to as the G-spot. It responds to pressure.”
I apply more force. Her body responds.
I curl up and in, using a rhythm that matches the increasing movement of her hips, adjusting to every tiny breath, every clench, every desperate gasp. I press my mouth to her clit again and work both spots simultaneously, and within seconds, she comes apart again.
This time, her entire body lifts off the chair. “Professor Holt!” Her voice is almost too loud. Thankfully the door to my office is thick, heavy wood, or someone outside might hear.
I hook my free arm around her hips and hold her tight against my mouth as she shakes through her orgasm, legs quaking, voice breaking out sounds that are almost words but not quite.
Finally, she slumps back, panting and ruined. Her eyes are glazed over, nearly crying as she gasps for breath. She looks down at me, kneeling between her legs, with a dumbfounded expression of wonder.
“I…had no idea…” she pants, her voice raw. “My friends were right. I’ve been missing out.”
“I know.”
She hesitates, like she’s unsure if she should say what comes next. But she says it anyway. “Can it—can we do that again?”
The responsible answer is no. That’s what I should say. “No, that’s enough for one session, Miss Monroe.” I should hand her notebook back to her, walk home, and look at myself in the mirror.
This behavior is completely unacceptable from a man in my position.
“Yes,” I say, unable to contain myself. I’m not the man I was when I woke up this morning. “We can do all that again.”
To my surprise, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, rectangular box. There’s a Post-It note stuck to the front with a scribble that says: READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!!
Jessie holds it out to me, cheeks flushed and beads of sweat on her brow. “My friends got me this, and I…well I don’t quite know how to use it. I could figure it out myself, but—”
“No.” I smirk when I see what she’s holding. A vibrator. Pink. Still in the box. “I’ll show you how to use it.”
Using my Leatherman, I slice open the shrink-wrap with surgical precision and remove the device. It’s obviously expensive. Her friends chose well. I twist the knob to its lowest setting, and a soft hum fills the room.
“This device provides external stimulation, Jessie,” I tell her, pressing it gently to the inside of her wrist so she can feel what’s coming.
Her eyes go wide. “Most people don’t know this, but vibrators were created in the late nineteenth century as a medical diagnosis to cure ‘hysteria’ in women. ”
“R-really?”
“It wasn’t until the nineteen-sixties that they emerged as what they truly are.” I hold it mere centimeters from her tender, swollen button. “Pleasure toys.”
“I see…” Her voice is just a breath. She’s too adorable to handle. I’m licking my lips like a dog as I stare up at her.
“It does what my tongue just did. Only it doesn’t get tired.”
Her lips twist into a coy smile. “Your tongue didn’t seem to get tired.” The earnestness of her observation hits me like a fist.
“Oh, it wasn’t,” I reply hungrily. “But this device will help you understand your own body. Not just what I can do to it, but what it’s capable of.”
Snatching her by the hips, I lift her out of the chair and onto the edge of my desk. She goes easily, allowing her legs to slide apart, giving me a perfect view of her pretty pussy.
I tug her neckline down and expose the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. Two perfect, milky mounds with delicate pink nipples that send my appetite soaring.
Then I lower the vibrator down to her, setting it against her clit. Her entire body snaps like a live wire. “Oh my God—”
Nodding, I smile down at her. “And that’s just the lowest setting.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“There are six more.”
She looks down, taking in the show, but as I apply more pressure, her head falls back, and she clutches on to the desk for dear life. I keep the toy steady and slide my fingers back inside, curling them against her G-spot.
She grabs my shirt again and nearly twists it into pieces as she pulls me close enough that our foreheads press together. I inhale deeply, drinking her scent, feeling every single wonderful tremor that runs through her.
“Professor—”
“Call me August,” I tell her.
“August.” Her voice is soft and muffled as she speaks into my chest. “I think I’m going to—”
“Yes you are,” I reply, twisting the power up one setting. Just one notch and her nails dig into the fabric of my shirt, pressing into my skin. “Let it happen. Your body knows just what to do. Trust it.”
“I do. I trust you, August,” she says. Her words nearly knock me out. She does. I can see it. This girl who I just met this morning trusts me completely.
Her third orgasm builds quickly and powerfully. I feel her body tighten beneath me, hear her breath go shallow and stuttered. I feel her thighs begin to shake and hear the things on my desk begin to rattle. I press down on her with my body, my cock screaming to be where my fingers are.
No. Not yet. She still has much to learn.
“Come for me, Jessie. Come.”
And then she lets go.
She arches off the desk, screaming my name, her juicy cunt locking my fingers so hard that I groan back, holding her through the entirety of her climax.
Every wave, every tremor, every involuntary contraction as she clenches down again and again, weeping moans of pleasure that I will hear in my head for the rest of my life.
When she finally begins to come down, she’s quivering from head to toe, and her face is soaked with tears. She clutches me, hanging on like I’m the only solid thing in a world which has turned to vapor around her.
I remove the vibrator, switch it off, and set it aside. Easing my fingers slowly out of her, I smile as she whimpers at the loss. With a final lick, I taste her hole before I pull her dress back down over her thighs and hold her against my chest.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but finally, she asks me for some water. I hand her a glass, and she sips it slowly, looking around my office like she’s remembering where she is.
Gerald, the skeleton, looks on quietly without judgment.
“Good girl,” I tell her without even thinking about it. The words just come out naturally.
She looks at me, and something moves through her eyes that there is simply no anatomical definition for. Something warm and new, almost like she’s proud of fulfilling her first lesson.
“Oh,” she says, like she’s forgotten something. Quickly, she takes her green pen, opens her notebook to a fresh page, and scribbles something down. It’s like she’s taking notes on what I just taught her.
That’s right. This was just an act of education. I genuinely care for my student and am filling a gap in her understanding.
Yeah, I’m lying my ass off.
I want this girl more than life itself. My hands are shaking, which is something they haven’t done in years. Not since before I started surgery.
I gave Jessie this lesson because she walked into my lecture hall and changed my life forever.
And now that I’ve had my first taste, I’m going to be back for more.
More, more, more.
God help us both.