Page 13 of Bad Professor

I glance up again, keeping my tongue pressed against her—I do have an above-average length tongue, or so I’ve been told. Tilly’s eyes are closed, her lips pressed tightly together.

“I want to hear you.”

Her eyes fly open and she looks down, almost as if she can’t believe I’m still there. I squeeze her ass—it’s as glorious as I hoped it would be.

My cock hardens with every taste of her. Her breath deepens as I slowly circle that nub of sensations; her hand moves to clutch at my hair as I flick my tongue against her as quick as I can, frantic to give her more.

As I kiss and lick and suck, a breathless, “Yes,” escapes, sounding nothing like Tilly’s voice.

“Is this what you like?” I demand, my mouth still pressed against her. “Tell me.”

I draw my tongue against her, circling again, before taking her in my mouth to suck.

She gasps.

I do it again, and again, and Tilly’s hips press forward as she shudders.

I think she’s close.

Her legs begin to shake as she rocks her hips against my mouth. “Yes,” she gasps. “Yes, yes, yes…”

I growl deep in my throat, one hand on her ass, the other gripping her hip to keep her pressed against me. My cock is so hard it’s painful.

Another suck and Tilly grips my hair with a whimper, just as she comes into my mouth.

I stay where I am until the shaking stops. When I finally lean back, I see the expression of bewilderment on her face.

I stand and lift her into my arms. “Bedroom,” I demand.

I need more of this.

More of her.

8

Tilly

When I come to—

And it really is just like I snap back into consciousness, like I’ve blacked for a moment or two, and returned to find the hem of my dress still bunched in my hand and the other full of Dexter’s thick, dark hair.

It’s very nice hair.

What’s also very nice is his mouth between my legs. So very nice, that it’s why I may have blacked out.

I have never had an orgasm as intense or as sudden as that. It’s all I can do to keep breathing, shallow, shaky breaths. What was—?

That must have been oral sex, the way it’s meant to be.

Dexter stands, towering over me and I can barely look at him because he did that and I—

I made noise. I moaned, and cried out and…

Carlos preferred me to be quiet. To concentrate, he would say.

On himself.

I can’t think of Carlos. I peek at Dexter, who is…

---