Her hair is down too. She changed from the last time I saw her. Is she just trying to be proper? Or does she feel some of what I feel too?
“Hello,” she says. Her voice is like an upper and a downer at the same time. It calms my breathing but causes my heart to race.
She looks around my office with genuine curiosity, taking in the bookshelves, the anatomy diagrams on the walls. And of course, she goes over to examine the skeleton standing in the corner.
“Wow. Fully articulated?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Real or composite?”
“Oh, it’s real.”
She looks at me, stunned, then back at it. “Wow. Does he have a name?”
I think for a moment, then answer, “Gerald.” Seems about right to name him after the son of a bitch who’s trying to destroy my career.
Her laugh hits me in the chest. A layman might not recognize where, but I know.
It’s my heart. I spent years operating on others’ but have forgotten to protect my own.
Smiling, she turns from Gerald and holds up her notebook. “I already did some reading. I found the course’s recommended texts and came up with some questions that I thought might—”
“Sit down, Miss Monroe.”
She obeys immediately. Christ, this girl will be the death of me.
She folds her delicate hands on top of her notebook and looks at me from across the desk with an expression of complete innocence, like she’s just waiting for me to tell her what to do.
I think about what I heard her friends talking about back at the coffee cart. The fact that this untouched beauty is sitting in my office. And then I think about what I’m going to do…
I’m going to hell.
“We’re going to start with the autonomic nervous system,” I say slowly. “Which governs every subconscious function of your body. Heart rate, respiration, digestion…” I pause. “Sexual arousal.”
Something flickers in those beautiful brown eyes of hers. It’s brief. Then it’s gone.
I stand and come around the desk to her side. “The sympathetic system prepares the body for an experience while the parasympathetic calms. Your body does this on its own, without your conscious permission. Understand?”
“Y-yes,” she says softly. “And this is…the gap in my knowledge?”
My God, she’s so sincere. So naively sincere.
“That’s right,” I say, sweeping my eyes up the curves of her legs and hips, barely hidden beneath the thin fabric of her dress. I search for panty lines but see none. Is it possible such an innocent girl as this wouldn’t be wearing any?
She opens her notebook and reaches for her pen.
“You won’t need to take notes,” I tell her. She looks up, confused. “What I’m going to teach you, Jessie, goesfarbeyond your curriculum. And it requires yourcomplete attention.”
The moment hangs between us like a wire being pulled taut. The afternoon sunlight spills in through my office windows above and catches her hair, causing a halo effect.
She’s an angel, and I’m a devil, moments away from corrupting her.
“All right,” she says, setting her notebook down. “Professor Holt, you have my full attention.”
“Are you aware of what triggers the autonomic nervous system, Jessie?”
She swallows, drawing my attention to her throat. So delicate. So smooth. How much of my cock could she swallow?
