Page 8 of Rolling with my Professors

“You.” I can barely hear my voice, but he catches it just fine.

He presses a leg between my thighs. “A one-word answer—that’s not very descriptive.”

“Sorry.” I can’t catch my breath.

“How about this? A true-false test.”

Test-taking doesn’t normally make my tummy flutter. Then again, I don’t normally take tests alone in my professor’s office, after hours, with his thigh between my legs, either. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “What a good girl. First true or false statement… You want me to…”

Why is he pausing? Please don’t reconsider.

He lifts a hand to my shoulder. “You want me to check your pulse.”

It’s not that I expected him to start with sex, but this is a little slow. “True.”

His fingers trail down my arm, gently turn my hand over, and lift. And keep lifting. His head lowers slightly. His lips press on the inside of my wrist.

Several other parts of my body suddenly want pulse checks.

Pulling away far too soon, he says, “A little elevated. Next question… You want me to check your hearing.”

“True.” The answer pops out of me before I’ve heard the full question. Perhaps I do need my hearing checked.

His grin grows as he leans toward my ear. In a whisper, he says, “You’re a very naughty girl.”

“True.”

“That wasn’t a test question.” His lips brush in my hair as he stands.

“It’s still true.” Every inch of my body is begging for this to speed up. “Now it’s my turn.”

“For what?”

“To test you.” I lace my fingers with his.

He shrugs. “True.”

“What’s true?”

He clarifies, “I want to make you come on my desk. That was the question, wasn’t it?”

Uh… yeah. My thighs reflexively try to squeeze together and clamp around his leg. He shoves his thigh into my center, and I stop just short of dry-humping him.

“Should I take that as a yes, Little One?”

“Yes.” I rock against his leg before he steps away. Euphoria over the nickname leaves me giddy.

Reaching out, he closes the door, then faces me and drops to his knees.

Uh… TRUE! Daddy knows what Little One wants.

His fingers wrap around my hands and he guides me to stand. What’s happening? I breathe and focus, then offer a test question. “You want to take my panties off, Da—don’t you?”

That was close. I’m guessing it’s better to discuss the Daddy thing before using it.

“True.” His hands trail up my legs. Thank goodness I shaved this morning. Actions and thoughts are simultaneously in slow motion and happening in a split second.

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