“Yes,” the dean says, “you should, but I’m out with my wife for our thirtieth anniversary, so we’ll talk about this tomorrow in my office, first thing in the morning.”
“Right, of course,” I say.
He turns and walks away without another word.
I glance at Georgia. She’s looking up at me with big, frightened eyes. My thoughts are spinning. I can only imagine what’s going on in her head. It’s not just my career that’s ruined over this. She could very well lose her scholarship too. I won’t let that happen.
Georgia sits in the passenger seat with her bare feet propped on the dashboard. “I can’t believe we were caught by Dean Meyer of all people,” she says.
I’m still sorting everything out in my head, thinking of a way to fix this, but I’m coming up with nothing.
“You’re quiet,” she says. I can feel her eyes on me. I’m trying not to freak out, punch the steering wheel and cuss like I want to. I don’t want to frighten her.
“I’m just thinking,” I say.
“Maybe you should just drop me off back at the dorm instead of both of us going back to your place,” Georgia says, resigned.
I know I’m not the greatest company at the moment; I’m not the most communicative person when I’m upset, but the last thing I want is for her to leave. I won’t stop her if she doesn’t want to be around me, though. I wouldn’t blame her.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, hoping she’ll say no.
“Of course not. But if someone sees me at your house it’ll be worse for you.”
I look off into the distance, the muted glow of my headlights leading the way, bugs darting in and out of their beams. “I don’t care about that. I just want to be with you tonight.”
She’s quiet. When I glance over at her, she’s staring out the window. “Okay.”
Georgia hasn’t said a word in twenty minutes. I start to think maybe it would be better if I took her home. Tonight was a lot to take in and perhaps it would be best if we both took some time to process it. But as soon as we walk into the house, she starts to take off her clothes. Shoes first, dress second, then others items follow.
I just stand in the doorway, waiting to see what happens next. “Do you want me or not?” she says.
I don’t hesitate. Kicking the door shut with my foot, I immediately begin taking off my clothes too. She waits for me by the couch. I kiss her, tasting the wine still on her tongue. She makes fists in my hair, keeping our lips sealed together, pulling our naked bodies closer together. She kisses me like her life depends on it. Suddenly Dean Meyer and my imminent ruin have left my thoughts, and all there is room for in my head is her. Her touch, her scent, her kiss. Her body.
She twists in my arms, exposing her backside to me. That round, pale, beautiful butt. I bend her over the arm of my couch and kneel to worship her. I kiss the fat fleshy mounds from top to bottom, then spread her open and bury my face in her delicious pussy.
Each time I take a break to catch my breath, it’s stolen away again by the view. Young and pink and vivid. The sweet scent of her arousal makes my cock twitch with desperation. I want to be inside her where it’s warm and wet and safe from the stresses of the outside world.
Once my lungs are no longer heaving, I go in for more, my tongue painting her folds and the tiny split of her entrance. She moans and rolls her hips, pushing back on me to drive my tongue deeper into her.
“Please fuck me,” she begs.
I pull back to give myself room to talk. “We’ll get to that, but right now I’m going to eat your hot cunt until you cum on my face.”
Back in the fray, all it takes is a little dirty talk and a skilled tongue to send her over the edge. She lets out a loud, desperate moan that turns into a cry. Reaching behind her, she grabs the back of my head and pushes my face into her creamy mound, smearing my face with her juices. I lick them up like a starving man.
When she finally lets go, I fill my empty lungs with air and catch my breath again. Being on the verge of suffocation so many times has made me lightheaded, euphoric. I never understood auto-erotic asphyxiation before, but I’m starting to get it now.
Strings of her cum drip onto the floor. Normally I’d lick her clean, but we’ll need that lubrication for what I have in store for her.
I sit on the couch. “Ride me,” I tell her. “I want to see your tits bounce and watch your face the next time I make you cum.
Before she climbs on my lap, she puts on a little show, bending over, spreading her ass cheeks, looking over her shoulder to watch my reaction. I immediately reach for my dick and start to stroke it. She turns around to face me, climbs onto the couch, standing over me with one foot on either side of my hips. Again she spreads herself, her pussy this time, making it gape. It’s a small gape, but enough for me to take a glimpse inside. I have to stop touching myself before I cum.
She squats over me, her ass hovering in the air a moment before she sits, spearing herself on my prick. She holds onto my shoulders for leverage and slowly begins her ride.
I feel the surface of her vaginal wall with the tip of my dick. She can’t go any further. She’s taken as much as she can, and yet there’s still roughly three inches of cock still exposed. She tries to push herself further, and somehow there’s a little more give, and I’m starting to wonder if I’m about to fuck her cervix. There’s a definite tightness there, but it feels amazing, and so I let her do what she wants to do. She knows her body. She can make these calls.
Her mouth opens and whimpers spill out.
“It hurts,” she says, and yet doesn’t try to release the pressure by easing up. Her legs start to shake. “But it feels so good at the same time.”
Just when I start to fear that I’m about to stab through her womb, she sits up until only the head of my dick is still inside of her, then impales herself again. She does this over and over until I can’t take anymore.
I grab her hips one last time and thrust hard and deep inside of her until I explode.
She screams, her body writhing and twisting. Her pussy strangles my cock as her orgasm rips through her with brutal force. Until she finally collapses against my chest.
We sit like this a while, spent and useless. Me, running my fingers through her sweaty hair, while she trails delicate kisses along my jawline. Not talking, just being here together in silence. It’s not uncomfortable one bit. Just the opposite. I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone in my life.
A half hour passes when suddenly I get my second wind. I’m still inside of her, growing hard again as I lift both of us off the couch. Her legs wrap around me and she giggles, trying to hold on. I carry her upstairs for round two.
Chapter 9
Georgia
In the morning, Loche and I are awake before either of our alarms go off. Even after several rounds, we’re not exhausted enough to sleep through the anxiety we both face. I’m wrapped up in his arms. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay like this, in the comfort and safety of him forever. But I have to figure out a way to get Dean Meyer not to can Loche and take away my scholarship.
When I try to leave, Loche holds tighter. “I have to go,” I say, smiling as he grumbles.
“Let’s just forget about everything and stay here. We can watch movies and eat junk food and pretend we’re not adults.”
“As amazing as that sounds, you know we can’t. I’m gonna call a cab.”
“Let me take you back to the dorm,” he says.
“It’s too risky. I don’t want anyone to see us.” His midnight-black Camaro with black rims and a V8 that can wake the dead isn’t exactly subtle.
“Fine,” he says, and finally releases me from his grip. “But find me later.”
“I’ll see you in class this afternoon.”
The thin smile on his face makes me think there might not be a class this afternoon.
Before my first class starts, I make an appointment to see Dean Meyer. I’m sitting in the waiting area with his secret
ary, going over a rough argument I prepared. It’s difficult to focus with the clack, clack, clack of acrylic nails on the keyboard as the secretary speed-types.
Every time I look up at the clock, five minutes have passed. I’ve been sitting here twenty minutes so far. I just want to get this over with. Another five and I’ll be late for English. I might even have to miss it. I’ve never missed a class before. Not for illness or any other reason.
The phone rings. His secretary answers it and continues to type at the same time. Finally, she puts down the phone, looks at me, and says, “He’ll see you now.”