The professor stands on the other side of the room, watching.
Olly presses open-mouthed kisses down my arm as he moves to stand before me. His greedy, wet mouth suckles my breast as he shoves the other strap of my shirt off my shoulder and down my hips until my clothes pool around my feet.
A tremble rushes through me as I stand naked and more exposed than any of my characters on the page, but I’mnot panicked or embarrassed. Need, desire, and a sense of empowerment I only ever experienced when lost in my fantasy worlds surge through me.
Olly kneels at my feet and presses soft, reverent kisses to my thighs, driving my blood pressure up and making my stomach clench in anticipation.
Then his mouth is there, hot breath tickling me in my most sensitive area. Heat grows beneath my skin with each flutter of his tongue, and my knees wobble, but Olly doesn’t stop. He licks, tasting more, rolling his tongue over my clit and sliding his fingers inside me again.
Desperation claws at my insides. I grip my hair, then my breasts, trying to anchor myself.
Olly’s tongue swirls in a way that makes my toes curl. I stumble forward, then quickly grip his head to hold myself steady. Olly’s assault doesn’t end. His fingers stroke and curl, arousal leaking from me and his tongue lapping it all like a man starved.
A soft grunt reminds me that we aren’t alone. Professor Gibson grips the arm of the sofa, his breath heavy, his eyes on Olly’s mouth. I watch him as I claw at Olly’s scalp, rocking my hips and fucking my lover’s fingers and tongue. Coils tighten in my belly, drawing me closer and closer to that release.
Professor Gibson’s elbow jerks back and forth, his fingers still hidden in his pocket. His cock is so hard that I can clearly see the outline beneath his pants.
My belly tightens.
Olly wraps his arm around my thighs, pulls me closer to his mouth, clamps his hot lips over my aching clit, and sucks. Pinpricks of tension burst beneath my skin, blurring my vision and stealing my breath. Olly holds me tight as I rock against his mouth, riding his fingers until the last wave of relief crests.
I barely have a moment to recover before he stands before me, eyes wild like a man possessed. He squeezes my hips and tugs at my hair as his tongue fucks my mouth, tasting like sex.
Breaking the kiss, I look over Olly’s shoulder to Professor Gibson as I pop the button on my best friend’s jeans.
I am creating my own experiences.
I am my own inspiration.
I am the leading lady of my own story. “I want myNaughty Professorto stroke his cock while he watches me fuck you.”
Professor Gibson’s hand stills in his pocket, shoulders tense, but his eyes are hooded and intense.
I reach for Olly’s zipper, and my crush turns to obsession as he throws his head back and a primal groan rips from his exposed throat.
His desire fuels my own and turns me into the demanding protagonists I write.
I arch a brow at Professor Gibson, challenging him to stay and participate or leave.
He doesn’t move. Desire rages in the thin line of sweat on his forehead and the tent in his pants. Holding my gaze, he pulls his hand from his pocket and reaches for the button on his pants. Slowly, he pops it open and drags the zipper down.
I copy his movements until Olly’s cock head appears between his zipper.
“Oh my,” I whimper. I didn’t see Olly’s length before he slid inside me yesterday, and the video and photos didn’t scale to reality. Still, I knew he was larger than average from the delicious ache he left, but seeing him in the flesh… Olly is bigger than even he admitted.
I reach into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet as Olly strips, baring himself to me.
My eyes drink him in, all hard muscle and bold lines, too beautiful to be anywhere but an artist’s canvas. Words paintscenes in my head, each one centered around a love interest, almost a replica of the god standing in front of me.
And he’s mine.
If I knew I could have Olly so easily and keep him, I would have said what I wanted sooner.
He picks me up in one quick sweep, squashing my breasts to his chest and my soft, wet pussy to his rock-hard cock.
We both moan at the contact, Olly instinctively bending his knees and lifting me higher so that the tip of his cock presses at my entrance.
“Fuck,” he grunts.
