Chapter Four
Walker
Given the fact that I decided not to think of Rosie’s perky little tits anymore, I really shouldn’t be lying in bed, jerking myself to thoughts of her swinging them in my face. Nor should I be thinking about the way her long red hair would fall over her shoulder, the way her mouth would drop open, or the way she’d moan as she sunk her needy little pussy onto my hard cock.
I shouldn’t be thinking about any of those things, and I definitely shouldn’t be jerking off while I think about them, but on the way home I decided that what I think about on my own time is my own damn business. The university can’t police what I do in the confines of my own bedroom. If I want to look at the picture of Rosie I secretly snapped last week in a cute, little skirt and short sleeve sweater, that’s my prerogative. If I want to stroke my cock to thoughts of her spreading her young, little pussy for me, that’s my choice. If I want to fantasize about her rubbing those big, heavy tits on my face, while she obeys my every command, then that’s what I’ll fucking do.
Jesus Christ, I’m sick.
I rub my cock harder, stroking faster as I imagine her on her knees looking up at me. Those pouty pink lips, her big blue eyes… fuck!
I’d give anything to have one night with her.One night of breathless, unaccounted for time. One night of her eager littlehead bobbing up and down, begging to come. One night of her long red hair wrapped around my thighs.
I’d pay for it, whatever the cost. Hell, I’d give my right arm right now for a night alone with that woman moaning in my ear.
My cock hardens into steel as I jerk harder, and I’m about to blow when I hear the sound of her voice in the hallway outside of my door.
What the fuck? I’m getting pretty fucking good with my fantasies, but this is inching toward a full-blown delusion!
“Professor Wilder?” It’s clearer now. She’s for sure in the hallway, a few steps from my door.
Fuck! What the fuck?
I did tell her I’d be in the back with dinner at 7:30 sharp and that there was no need to knock, but I assumed by the way our conversation went earlier she wasn’t coming.
Jesus Christ!
I grab the sheet from the opposite side of the bed and attempt to pull it up around me, but she’s in the doorway, sweet and innocent, before I get to where I’m going.
She wears tiny little shorts, thin and light, leaving nothing to the imagination. The tank top is the same. She may as well be naked, ‘cause I see everything.
Her hard pearled nipples. The crease of her soft little pussy. The shape of her body, so thick and sweet.
I should say something. I should cover up. I should move from this fucking bed and act like a grown man, but I’m stuck. Stuck in the heaviest mud I’ve ever felt in my life. Stuck like every rational part of me is at war with this feral version of myself I don’t usually connect with.
Christ, she’s hot!
Burning, fucking, hot!
My chest tightens and my fists clench as I stare at her soft hips. I’m not sure if it’s in my head or if she’s feeling it too, but I swear there’s a heavy tension bucking hard between us.
Tell her to leave before you do something crazy!
Demand she enters the room!
Make her spread that pretty, little pussy wide!
Get a fucking grip, man!
Grip her fucking hips and bend her over!
Spank that little ass for showing up here in that outfit!
She’s teasing you! She knows what she’s doing!
Stop! She’s a student! A young, innocent, sweet woman!
This is wrong!
