There’s a spark between Emmaline and I that I want to explore.
“Don’t want to be late for Calculus II, and I’ve a full lecture hall,” I say, pulling up her shirt and yanking her breast out of her bra. Closing my mouth over the nipple, I swirl my tongue over her and slide my fingers back into her pussy.
Fuck, what am I doing?
If I don't want to get caught, maybe I need to worry more about what I’m up to. I slide my fingers into my mouth, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. I change into different trousers, the same style so not even the wandering syllabus seeker should know what’s transpired, and I head toward the door. Emmaline fixes her own clothes and stumbles toward the door.
If I could eat her pussy that she came hard enough to walk like that, I can’t imagine what truly letting loose on her could be like. The idea makes me fucking weak for a moment. I want to taste every inch of that girl.
“Thank you, Ethan,” Emmaline turns to say. “Reality is sweeter than fantasy,” she says as she walks out the door.
Fuck, that girl could wrap me all around her and I’d never see the sky again. I’d never give a fuck. She’s too damn sexy; I want to watch her leave. I’m holding my lecture notes in front of me like I’m a college student, trying to hide my throbbing erection. I want this load deep inside Emmaline’s pussy but we both have class.
And if I had some damn sense, I’d stop myself from starting something I shouldn’t be doing. Fuck, I don’t have any sense or control with her. And I goddamn like it.
Emmaline
My brain and my body don’t quite recover from the jilt of not having Ethan’s mouth, Ethan’s hands, all over me like they were in his office. This is the part where reason and common sense are supposed to interfere with my insanity, but, like, I’m just in a daze today. The memory of his touch ghosts over my body, haunting me to the point where I’m possessed with thoughts only of his touch and the pleasure it brings.
No man (or woman for that matter) has ever put their mouth on my breasts, much less my pussy, and that sensation has me amazed that my legs can even get me to my next class.
I remember how Ethan clearly knew about my next class coming up. Sure, he says everything in that self-assured voice, but Ethan knew I had a class soon, it wasn’t just bravado.
Judging by how hard I came and that gut instinct I have about him, there’s no way that man bluffs. He doesn’t have to.
I know having an affair with Ethan is wrong. I’ve been ignoring that fact as hard as I can and I’m shocked by how glazed over the idea still is in my brain. This is against university rules! I mean, I’m the kind of girl who would normally go into cardiac arrest at breaking the rules. Like, I used to be a good girl…but now I know how damn fun being a bad girl is. That’s so childish of me, like I needed to screw my head on right after the idiotic stupor I left myself in when I was in Ethan’s office ... and I need to think about the real consequences of my action. Any minute now the war my common sense is losing has to change tides, right?
Now I know that Delia and I have to talk. Like there’s just no way that I can keep this all inside. I have to talk to someone I can trust about this. My head won’t stay level and I need advice. Delia’s a jokester but after she gets over the shock of me breaking bad, then she’s sure to offer up some salient advice.
I snap the lid on my Zebra midliners and find that when I look over my page of pastel highlights, I’ve actually done a good job on reviewing my Calculus II notes. I can’t put the ability to pass the class I worked so hard to get into, into a ‘plus’ column for screwing around with my teacher though.
So what if I’m keeping pace with in-class lectures?
How on earth can I think that coming onto Ethan was okay? I mean, he was so ready to wrap his arms around me and bury his face between my thighs.
The painful thought that he must do this with lots of students does occur to me, but even if that’s true, he did only have eyes for me in class.
God, that probably makes me the dumbest girl in the world.
I whip out my phone. “Siri,” I groan to the phone even though I’m holding down the home button. Habit. I’m a stubborn, methodical person who does things the way they always do.
Well, until now!
“Text Delia,” I tell my phone.
“What would you to say to Delia?” my phone asks.
“Meet me at my dorm, or yours. Girl talk, stat,” I say and release my home button. Siri of course doesn’t pick up what I’m saying because I’m frustrated and that would've been too easy. I swipe her away and text Delia.