I just grunt, being completely out of breath because it takes all my power to fuck her—and then she explodes.
I lose my grip slightly and let her ride out the orgasm with her head fallen back. Meanwhile, I caress her wonderful, round breasts. After a moment, I squeeze her nipple. Hard.
She squeaks, and I say, “You better make me come now too, because that was the hottest thing ever.”
She laughs as she gets up and stands in front of me.
“Give me that,” she says and points at the harness.
I tilt my head slightly as I remove it.
“I think I’d rather like you to use your tongue,” I say and throw the harness away.
“I really got you hooked on that, didn’t I?” she says, smirking with rose cheeks and her sweaty skin.
“Uh-huh,” I say as I lean back onto my elbows, opening my legs.
She just hums and sinks to her knees. And as her tongue trails from my inner thighs over my lips down there, and I watch the picture she got, I have completely forgotten what had happened today. All thoughts of the attack and the professor just vanished from my mind.
4
JANE
PLAYLIST: FRAGMENTS — JOHANNES WINKLER RUSSANDA PANFILI
The moment I close the door to my apartment behind me, I sink to the ground and just lie down on the floor. Still with my bag around my shoulder, shoes on. Black Matter sits next to me immediately, at her typical distance. Meowing.
It’s been a while since I felt the need to lie down the moment I come home, but what happened today took its toll on me. All those people. All these questions. And then, her.
The student who saved my life. The one who overpowered the shooter. Who saved me.
She saved me.
And risked her life. And not only did she risk her life to save me, but she also knew what was going on with me. She saw. She was the first to see what was really going on. It frightens me.
Her name is Amelie Degard. On record, she is just a normal, completely inconspicuous student. Only she is not.
Something about her doesn’t add up. The questions she asked. The way she looked at me. The way she acted. She knew how to regulate me. What if she is like him? What if she wants to hurt me, too?
But she saved you.
She gave you the courtesy of distance.
She said to the police she acted out of adrenaline.
I heard it. But the questions she asked? Never did I have a freshman recite anything from advanced chapters.
Maybe she has a relative who is autistic?
Or maybe she herself is autistic and hyper-focused on the topic?
Maybe there is a simple explanation, and your mind just constructs. You’re scared, you might make things up because of hypervigilance.
The exhausting dialogue in my head just wouldn’t stop. I am overwhelmed by existing alone right now.
So I just lie here.
Staring at the white ceiling with all the chatter in my head.
