Double Dirty Mountain Men(32)

“Very organized,” he says. “I bet you’ve never forgotten socks.”

“Not yet,” I say.



Minutes later, I’m licking melted chocolate gelato from his fingers while he pushes me against the counter, his sweet, funny eyes burning again with lust. I feel like a storm inside, winds whirling around a center as he pushes his hand up my thigh to my soaking wet slit.

Then he fucks me against the counter, so hard and fast that I’m pretty sure my hips will be bruised the next day, and I come shouting his name.

Well, I guess it’s his title.

I shout Professor, and I swear every time I do he gets a little harder.

I’m going to miss him like crazy for the next three weeks, but it’s a pretty good sendoff.



Even though I didn’t pack the night before, by eleven-thirty the next morning I’m ready to go. Erica, my roommate, has already left for Christmas break so it’s just me, reading a book in my living room and listening to Christmas music.

I’d watch Love, Actually or something but my laptop is already packed, and besides, I hate getting into a movie only to stop it halfway through. Doing that with a book feels much more natural.

I’m not going to see Professor Sharpe for three weeks. Three entire, endless weeks. My parents live four hours away, so it’s not like I can convince them that I need to go back to school to study or something.

Besides, my eighteen-year-old sister is also out of school, and my parents only have two cars — it’ll be a miracle if I get to go anywhere. But still, I wish I were staying here longer. Now is the perfect time to do whatever I want with Professor Sharpe and not worry about getting caught.

I throb at the thought.

Just as I do, there’s a knock on my apartment door, and I sit up on the couch, checking the clock. I’m not surprised that my parents are early — they’re my parents, after all, and I love being early — but I’m surprised that they’re this early.

“Coming!” I call, marking my place in my book and walking to my front door, the floor in my old apartment creaking beneath my feet. “You’re—”

It’s Professor Sharpe, standing there in a scarf and winter coat, hands in his pockets.

“—You’re Professor Sharpe,” I say, my voice dropping.

He looks behind me, into my apartment. I’m frozen.

“Your roommate is already gone, right?” he asks, his voice low and needy.

I just nod, breathless.

He steps inside, closing the door after himself as he unwinds his scarf and takes off his jacket, tossing them onto a coffee table I got for free.

“I need you one more time,” he says, and pulls me to him. He plunders my mouth like he’s desperate, and I feel myself melt at his touch, going weak in the knees.

But I pull away, already panting for breath.

“My parents will be here at one, and they’re always early,” I say.

He runs his hands up under my sweater.

“It’s not even noon yet, kitten,” he says, and pinches my nipples through my bra, bending his mouth to my ear. “And don’t worry, we won’t get caught.”

I just nod, already speechless with desire. He pushes me backward until we’re in front of my crappy old couch, and as we move I take off my sweater, my shirt, my tank top, and my bra, littering them across the floor.

At the same time, he gets his clothes off, and I realize that I’m seeing him totally naked for the first time. Up until now, we’ve either been trying to keep this secret, or I’ve been too out-of-my-mind horny to wait to get my clothes off.

I run my hands across his muscled, powerful chest, and he grabs my hair and pulls my head back, just a little.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asks, his other hand tracing its way down my body. “You like it when I’m rough and hard and take what I want.”

I swallow.

“Yes,” I say, because what he wants is also what I want, every single time.

He puts his lips to my neck, pulling my head backward, and I close my eyes.

“Please don’t leave a mark,” I whisper. “Not now.”

He just chuckles, pushing me backward until I’m against the couch. I fall to the cushions and his mouth travels down until he’s licking and sucking at my nipple, hard, so hard it almost hurts but feels fucking divine instead.

Then he does the same to the other one, kneeling in between my legs, one hand still in my hair. Finally, he stops and I look down.

There are faint bruises around both nipples. I touch them lightly with my fingers.

I shouldn’t find them sexy, but I do. It’s like he’s marked me as his.

“Anyone else sees those, they’ll have to deal with me,” he growls.

Professor Sharpe lets go of my hair and stands. His enormous, thick cock is waving in the air in front of me, hard as a rock, and I reach for it almost instinctively.

He grabs my wrist, stopping me, then pulls me to one side, anchoring both my hands on the arm of the couch. I know what he wants, and instantly I’m on my hands and knees, looking at him over my shoulder, ass high in the air.

This is it, I think, my back-hole puckering in anticipation. He’s going to claim my ass.

The thought makes me squirm, it turns me on so much, and then his hand is between my legs, roughly. He pinches my clit lightly between two fingers, making me gasp, then pushes them inside me and I moan.

“What do you say, kitten?” he asks, twisting his fingers, making me gasp. “Want something to think about on the drive to your parents’ house?”

“Please,” I say, my voice nearly breaking. “Take me. I need you now.”

His fingers twist, and over my shoulder I can see him stroking his incredible cock.

“You can ask better than that,” he says.

I take a deep breath.

“I need you to fuck me with that big, thick cock of yours,” I say, my voice half a whisper. “I need you inside me, Professor, and I need to feel you fill me up and stretch me out and I want—”

I stop, my face flushing hot.

I can’t say that.

“What else do you want?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as he rubs against my pleasure spots, driving me wild.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

“I want you to fuck me in the ass and I want to feel you leaking out of me as I drive home with my parents,” I whisper.

He inhales sharply. He pulls his fingers out. His weight is on the couch behind me, and then he grabs my hair, slides the head of his cock against my wet pussy, and then drives it home.

“Fuck yes,” I whimper. “Please, I need you one more time before I leave, God...”

Within seconds he’s pounding me mercilessly, his balls slapping against me as he sinks himself deep again and again. I know I’m saying something but I think it’s nonsense, just babbling because this feels so good I think I might lose my mind.

I come, hard, because his cock is hitting exactly the right places, all of them at once, and my defenses are just gone. Then I come again, and again, and he’s fucking me so hard that I’m just face down on the couch, screaming and moaning and hoping this never, ever stops.

“I’m gonna come inside your sweet, tight little cunt,” he growls into my ear. “Because you’re mine, Melody.”

Everything goes white for a moment. My eyes roll back into my head and we come together, my pussy spasming around him, milking him dry as he pumps load after load into me, right here on my couch, minutes before my parents come to pick me up.

Without pulling out, he slides one finger along the base of his cock, wet with our combined juices, then rubs it in a circle around my asshole, just barely pushing the fingertip inside.

I spasm again, because I don’t think I can handle anything else right now.

“This is mine, too,” he says. “When you’re back from break.”

Then he kisses the back of my neck, and we stay there, like that — him on top of me, him inside me — for a long moment, and I swear I feel a perfect, glowing happiness descend over me before he stands up.





Chapter 20





Professor Sharpe




I don’t want to leave. Even after we’re unentangled, re-dressed, and I’m ready to go, I don’t want to say goodbye. But I know that Melody is getting increasingly agitated at the thought of her parents catching me, so I kiss her goodbye and go.

I’m walking, head down against the wind, and at the end of her block a station wagon with a man and a woman in the front seat turns down Melody’s street. I nod at them once, a friendly neighborly greeting, even as my stomach clenches.

I try not to watch, but the station wagon pulls up outside Melody’s building and stops.

We came this close to getting caught.



All I hear for four days from Melody are short, sweet texts: Hi, I got home safe, Merry Christmas, that sort of thing. I spend Christmas Day itself at my sister’s house, playing with her three kids and dodging questions about when I’m finally going to settle down.

It’s December 27th when I finally get a video chat from Melody, and I race to close the curtains in my living room.

“Melody,” I say before I can even see her picture.

“Hi, Professor,” she says, and then the video gets clearer.

She’s naked, holding her giant dildo upright, between her perfect breasts.

“Miss me?” she asks, grinning.

And then, without missing a beat, she deep throats the dildo and I groan, cock already in my fist.