“Yes, sir, I need it. Oh God, I need it so much,” she cries as her pussy spasms around my fingers.
I don’t dare remove my mask, but I can faintly smell the scent of her arousal as my mouth waters.
Once she comes down from her orgasm, I remove my fingers and slip them under my mask and into my mouth, savoring the taste of her as a low growl emanates from my throat.
Just like an addict, I swear this is my last hit. I’ve got to put a stop to this. Nothing good will come of this if I continue down this path, and she is too good, too pure. She deserves everything I can’t give her.
After a generous amount of after care and returning her to Alyx’s room, my phone lights up with a text as I’m getting in my car.
Mary
Hey John. I’m sorry to bug you during the semester.
I chuckle to myself. She starts most texts this way.
I promise you’re not bugging me.
Okay. Sam is out of town again. Can you stay over?
Mary had a rough childhood, living in poverty in an area of the world known for violence. She scares easily and doesn’t like being alone. She moved in with me a few years ago, and I let her stay at my place in Columbus with Sam and their son. During the school year, however, I rent a room from a fellow professor near campus so I don’t have to commute from the city. Our living arrangement works for all of us, and I’m happy to help them out.
I’ll be there in twenty.
This is the reminder I needed. Mary and her family need me. There are people in my life who depend on me to not get mixed up with students. I’m working toward a goal that is bigger than just me. I am someone’s white knight, even if it’s not in the romantic sense. And I need to focus on that and not the young woman permeating my thoughts and dreams.
CHAPTER 7
EMMA
Seeing my therapist was high on my priority list this summer, but then classes started and my course load increased, and it got pushed to the back burner. I feel like I’m barely keeping my head above water and it’s only a few weeks into the semester.
Last year I had a roommate, and she was nice, but I was always in the library or class so our paths rarely crossed. This year, I ended up with a solo dorm room. I’m excited to have a place of respite even if it is a little isolating. I really should get out more and make some friends, but I’ll have time for that later, once I figure out how to write a paper that Professor A-hole won’t tear to shreds.
Opening my laptop, I sign into the patient portal and click into my telehealth link.
“So, Emma, how is the new school year going?” my therapist Brenda asks.
“It’s good. There’s this professor that’s been really challenging, but I’ll figure him out,” I answer, shifting in my seat hoping she doesn’t make me spend time talking about him.
“Have you had anymore nightmares?”
“I have. They started up again over the summer. It’s the same recurring one.”
“I see. Is there anything you can think of that may have triggered it?” I can tell she’s taking notes as she looks off screen.
“No. Not that I can think of. I just wish I knew what was causing it.”
“That’s understandable, wanting clarity so you can make sense of your own experience.”
“And since we talked about how I was able to figure out that I’m not responsive to just any kind of touch, you wanted me to explore the context of what makes me react.”
“And did you do that?”
“I may have let a masked dom tie me up and blindfold me so he could touch every part of my body. Safely, of course. There were safe words, so I was in control.”
“That’s…” she says and then stops, and for a second, I wonder if her video has frozen. “That’s not the approach I would’ve recommended, but you know what’s best for you. I do want to make sure you’re not trying to shock your system into healing to prove a point. Reenacting past trauma can be detrimental if you’re not being emotionally safe.”
“But I can’t remember anything traumatic happening to me. And I felt incredibly safe. Like, I was anxious about how it would feel and how I would react, but I did a lot of research first to prepare myself. There was this whole process beforehand where I filled out a survey with my limits, and he read it before the scene even started. Then we established a safe word, and he jumped right into the role.”
