Page 9 of The Professor's Holiday Surprise

I don’t look at the chat replies, though. I can’t. I only want to see her name, and it’s never there. I started this because I could pretend she was watching, but as the term has progressed, that’s gotten harder and harder.

It’s time to move on from being the North Pole Rodeo Champion.

Fisting my cock, I fire off one last message to the chat.

CowboySanta

You’re going to make me blow

My phone tumbles out of my free hand. The chat goes wild, presents flying up the screen as she reacts to how close I am, and I can’t reply because my phone is on the ground and my balls are pulling up, up, up.

I squeeze my cock at the base roughly as my release slams into the air in an arc. My vision darkens, spots appearing. I’m holding my breath as if that will hold me in this moment, with my made up avatar for my favorite girl.

“Gonna breed you, Paisley. Fuck….”

Through the pounding in my ears, I’m not sure if I actually said that out loud or if it was just so fucking real in my head that I heard my thoughts.

Fuck is right.

I’m in too deep if I can’t control my voice.

I stare at the wet mess on my belly.

One by one, the viewers leave the live stream after sending a final flurry of present reaction buttons my way. It doesn’t take that long, really.

Six people watching. Five people watching. Two people watching.

And then there’s just one. GoodGardenGirl’s name still has a green light next to it. A horny little Christmas elf, just hanging out with her favorite Santa while his cock softens against his belly, cum cooling on his skin.

What a good girl she is.

I frown, surprised to be this aware of someone who isn’t Paisley.

Still the light is green.

I wonder where in the world she’s watching from. And if her idea of a North Pole heaven is actually the wintery plains of Southern Wyoming.

She’s the only person who asked for something other than my body. There’s nobody else still online, and I can always cut out the tail end of the live stream when this video gets posted for followers to watch later.

And fuck it, I might have already said something anyway. Another woman’s name. My best fan deserves better than that.

“Hey, Good Garden Girl,” I say, keeping my voice low. Maybe she’s who I need to get past my inappropriate affection for Paisley. Maybe I’ll try to think just of her next week and see how that feels. “You’re a very good girl indeed. I hope you get exactly what you wish for this Christmas.”

Chapter 4

Paisley

My head is still spinningfrom him saying my name—something that doesn’t even feel real—when he addresses me even more directly.

Of course he doesn’t know it’sme.

But that’s Dr. Lowry, for sure. I would know that voice anywhere.

You’re a very good girl indeed.

I stare at the screen in shock.

For three months, I have felt Dr. Lowry’s words linger under my skin. I carry them home with me after lessons and stretch out on this bed, back arching and legs wide, so I can touch myself.

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