Page 14 of Learn Your Limits
Fuck, I got so carried away that I didn’t even return the courtesy of filming myself for him. He’ll have to do with a picture. Quickly, I get my phone and snap a photo of my messy cock and the cum decorating my hand.
JustMilo:[attached image]
JustMilo:The best way to start the morning, don’t you think?
Taking a quick moment to clean up, I also check on my hopefully intact breakfast while I wait for Cal’s reply.
CallMeCal:Fuck, that’s hot.
CallMeCal:Wish I was there to help you clean up.
My cock twitches with a newly found energy at his proposal. I imagine him on his knees and taking me into his mouth first thing in the morning, so desperate for me to feed him a mouthful of my cum.
JustMillo:I’ll remind you of your offer when we see each other, Cal.
JustMilo:This was a lovely way to start the day, thank you. Today I will be preoccupied with some last minute preparation for the semester, but I’d be delighted to keep chatting with you. And if you’re urged to repeat a similar performance for me sometime in the day, so be it.
Chastising my erection to calm down, I tuck myself back into my boxers. Iwastrying to take things a little slower with him, but the eager young man had other ideas. Resisting him wasn’t even a thought in my mind as soon as I heard the wrecked way he said my nickname.
As much as I’d like more of this, I do have a busy itinerary today, my last day to prepare for classes starting tomorrow. I make a note to keep my phone close to me so that I may keep texting Cal. I’m sure I can handle a little distraction.
The lecture hall is empty, making the noises of shuffling and quick keyboard taps echo within the insulated walls of the vast room. In about fifteen minutes, the rows of seats will be filled by my new students for the semester.
I know there are many of my fellow educators who find this week a drag, but there’s something so important to me about setting expectations and getting to know these bright minds. I’m a firm believer in everyone having an interesting story to tell. The most grueling part of syllabus week for me is the requirement of going over the university’s bylaws as if theyaren’t having them shoved in their faces by every professor, every year, and in every class.
Mind-numbing is what it is.
A few more seconds is all it takes for me to feel completely set for my introductory lecture. With a little time to spare before students begin filing in, I glance at my phone notifications and see a text from Cal. I’m touched that he would take the time to send me well wishes when I’m sure it’s a busy morning of preparation for him as well.
CallMeCal:Good luck on your first day. Hopefully your students aren't total heathens.
JustMilo:You too, Cal.
My thumbs hover over my phone for a few seconds as I contemplate my next text. I’d like to finally meet Cal and share a proper meal with him, but would it be too much to ask for us to meet this week? I know he still has his reservations, and Ishouldhave some of my own as well. While he’s assured me he’s notmystudent, he is stillastudent at Oakhart, and my involvement with him would cross a boundary.
When I type out my text, it’s like I have no control over my hands.
JustMilo:We should have lunch sometime this week.
Chapter thirteen
Reid
I’ve been up for hours, and my body is still thrumming with energy. I had my alarm set for seven a.m., and yet by six, I was wide awake and staring at the ceiling with nerves twisting my stomach.
Today is the start of the new semester, and I'm anxious about finally seeing Milo. I mean, I don't know for sure if our paths will cross, but the possibility is there. I spent half the night trying to find a gap in my schedule when I could make it across campus to the building he likely teaches in but then decided that seemed a little too eager.
Knowing there’s even a slight chance I’ll be meeting him today, I spent some extra time this morning getting ready. Since this is California and it’s the middle of summer, I’m dressed in a pair of tan shorts, a black short-sleeve shirt, and a pair of black Vans. I took the time to style my hair with some gel, running my hands back through the longer length on top. I also spent way too much time standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at myself.
What if Milo isn’t attracted to me the way I am to him? What if the years between us are too much to handle in person?
Now that I’m walking across campus to my first class of the day, Cognitive Psychology, my stomach has never been more tangled. I’ve got about ten minutes before class officially starts, but I’m not usually the type of person to arrive right on time. I’d much rather be a few minutes early than awkwardly stumble in late.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a text from Milo suggesting we grab lunch this week. His words send a sudden mix of excitement and apprehension through me, the thought both appealing and terrifying. I slip the phone back into my pocket with a heavy sigh, unsure of how I want to respond. I want to officially meet him more than anything, but I’m scared.
The Psychology building is filled with theater-style lecture halls, rooms designed with the professor’s podium and desk positioned at the bottom of the class, while student seating consists of long built-in tables with individual chairs. Each row is a step above the next, giving every student an unhindered view of the professor, no matter where they are seated.
Professor Cervantes is standing at the front of the lecture hallwith his nose buried in a book when I walk in, and my steps immediately falter as my breath catches in my throat. His dark hair is lightly peppered at his temples and slicked back, dark, thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
