Page 33 of Falling for Mindy

I needed him. I was afraid for Alicia and wanted comfort, but that wasn’t all, not even close. I wanted him, and I was drowning in it. Just that morning, I’d run my vibrator at the highest setting and stuffed two fingers inside myself just to try to take the edge off my hunger for him, but nothing was enough. I needed him.

My arms wrapped around him, and the next thing I knew I was just riding his muscled thigh, rubbing myself against him in the lewdest way. He had to know how much I wanted him. I gave it away when I said his first name earlier. I knew I had. And now he was plucking at my nipples and pushing my shirt up to get his hands on my flesh. I moved my mouth to his jaw and licked the stubble there, so manly and rough. Then I kissed his neck, sucking hard, and he rewarded me with a pinch to my nipple through my lacy bra that sent a jolt of sexy heat right down my body to the needy knot of want between my legs.

He was perfect, his square jaw, his broad shoulders and the brush of his big hands on my body. He was so tall and solid and strong, with thick powerful thighs that were giving me friction right where I wanted it. I wanted to ride him. I wanted him to pound me. Panting with the exertion and the desire, I caught my breath as he dragged his hot mouth across my collarbone, nipping the thin skin there. Tingles of pleasure heightened my anticipation.

We were staggering together, clinging to one another, mouths and hands ravenous. I thought he was moving me toward the desk, but he changed his mind and backed me up against the door. He ran his hand up my thigh to cup my ass and he groaned. He discovered I wasn’t wearing anything under my skirt. He had to know now how wanton I was, how I had stripped off my panties in the parking lot and left them in the car because they were useless. They were soaked from knowing I was driving to his office, that I was going to be alone with him in close quarters.

I had the shakes and chewed my bottom lip and creamed my panties just thinking about him. My body went its own way, my brain short circuiting when it came to Kyle. No matter how worried I was about a client at the job center, I couldn’t concentrate on that when my flesh remembered that I was going to see him. My heart pounded up in my throat when his fingers swept down the curve of my ass and parted my weeping lower lips that were swollen with arousal.

He bit the place where my shoulder met my neck and dipped his long, rough fingers into my channel. I started clenching around him helplessly, the orgasm gripping me and wringing me out too fast. Trembling, I let out a whimper, fisting his jacket in my hands. He is wearing a tweed jacket. The kind with the elbow patches, the sexy professor staple I never dreamed he’d own. God, just feeling the scratchy tweed in my hands ratcheted me up even more. I buried my face in his chest. He stroked my hair to soothe me, and I just nestled into him. It felt incredible, trapped up against his body, the heat of his chest, the hard stacked muscle beneath my touch. I tried to catch my breath after that climax.

Then he edged back from me a little and cradled my face in his palm and looked down at me like I was something so beautiful and precious that it almost made me cry.

His mouth rocked over mine, more tender this time, but still hungry. I shoved the jacket down his shoulders, and he shrugged it to the floor. I ran my greedy hands over his body, the cotton shirt the only thing between me and his tanned, salty skin that I wanted to taste so much.

I tried the buttons on his shirt, but I was fumbling. He helped me, like the good teacher he was, and unfastened them for me. When his shirt was open, I shoved my hands inside it and rubbed his chest and abs without hesitation.

With one strong arm around my hips, he lifted me off my feet. In seconds, we were at his desk, the tidy desk where he took notes in his even, academic handwriting and answered emails and certainly did not fuck a student during office hours. But there we were, and oh, it was good. So damn good.

First, he sat down in the leather wing chair where I’d been typing on my laptop like a good little student, the guest chair across the desk from his. He pulled me into his lap, so I was facing him, and my breasts were right at his eye level. He lifted my shirt, and I raised my arms obediently and let him strip it off of me. I was bare to him, in his lap, in his office, the tanned expanse of his chest exposed by his open dress shirt that was so perfectly pressed and starched that I really wanted to mess it up and bite the buttons off or something.

Kyle ran the back of his fingers over the swell of my breast, his light touch driving me mad. It made me squirm in his lap even though I wanted to hold still and savor his every touch, his slow burn seduction. I just had an orgasm, and I couldn’t believe it when I felt that buzzing in my blood, that pulse between my legs that told me my body was revving up again already. How was he doing it? It was like I was powerless when he touched me—but I knew that wasn’t the case. I could say one word or pull back and he would stop. Which was the last thing I wanted. I wanted this to go on forever, him teasing me on my bare skin with just his fingertips.

I touched his face, so handsome, so serious even now, and ran my thumb across his lips. He nipped my thumb, kissed it, and then leaned forward and brushed his lips over my nipple. I shivered, arched toward him, wanting him to take more of my breast in his mouth, wanting him to use his tongue, his teeth. I wriggled impatiently and felt his mouth curve into a smile as he flicked his tongue over my nipple. I responded immediately, like a shot had ripped through my body. My legs went stiff, my stomach tightened, and every muscle went tense. Liking that response, he drew deftly on my nipple even more, sucking slow and long. He lifted me closer to his face and took so much of my breast in his mouth I felt like I was being consumed by him. Flames of ecstasy were licking up my body, mercilessly.

I was tumbling into another orgasm already. Frantic, I pushed my fingers through his hair with a whimper. He knew without my saying a word exactly what I needed to get there. He lifted his face, pulled me down for a kiss. As his tongue entered my mouth, I felt his big hand cover my mound, fingertips slipping between my damp curls to rub the throbbing, needy knot of my clit.

I went over at the second brush of his fingertip because I was so primed, so sensitive. I cried out into his mouth as pleasure rolled through me in wave after wave. My legs trembled and he had to hold me. I broke the kiss and buried my face in his shoulder, too vulnerable, too shaken by how he got to me.

The intensity made me feel exposed, and I clung to him partly because I loved being held by him and partly to hide my face, to hide my feelings. He kissed my hair, smoothing a palm down my spine, settled me against him as if he was in no hurry to go on. I could feel the thick, stiff rod against my belly that proves how urgent his need is.

I reached between us and fumbled with his button and zipper. Reaching in, I wrapped one hand around his shaft, my fist not even holding half of his length. My inner muscles clenched at the exciting memory, at knowing greedily that he’d impale me with it soon. I wondered if he’d take me right there on the chair. I kind of want him to, but I also fantasized about his desk a few times. I knew he’d take the lead, and I knew I’d savor every moment of the way he worked my body and took me to new heights.

The way he was rocking into my hand, the wet kiss of the tip of his cock on my belly told me that he was about at the edge of his control. He was waiting until I’d recovered from my second shattering orgasm, being so caring and tender, and I had to find a way to let him know I wanted all of him.

I pressed my lips to his neck and nip it a little. He shifted beneath my thighs, his cock thickening even more in response, swelling so that I can’t get my hand around it. Gasping, all I could do was hold on as he stood, lifting me and taking me with him.

He stood me up and flipped me over in his hands, bending me over the desk. Kyle spread my thighs and ran a hand over my ass. My back arched; my body opened to take all of him.

The wet, hard prod of his cock at my slit became a long, deep push, a thrust that drove him all the way into my body. My nails scrabbled at the surface of the desk for balance as the force of his thrusts lifted me up to my toes. One hand was hard on my hip to hold me steady, while his other hand slid around my mound and found my clit. Breathless, I couldn’t handle the onslaught of pleasure, the jolt of his thrusts in time with the stroke of his fingers on my clit.

I was bucking my hips back to take more of him, holding his rhythm even though I felt lightheaded. I might faint, limp in his hands. He was going so deep, so many times, and he lasted so long. The bundle of nerves deep inside of me was getting worked over and my vision was shattering. I drooped onto the desk and took it, the climax ripping through me, triggered by the gush of his seed spilling deep inside me. I took all of it, and I gloried in it. Sprawled out over his desk, his seed filling me, my bare body exposed to him—I felt completely satisfied, thrilled even.

Kyle helped me up, and he stepped back, fastened his clothes and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said.

His face was flushed, and he looked disheveled, like he’d just been fucking me over a desk, in fact. I grabbed my shirt and pulled it on, stuffed my bra in my bag. “You’re kidding, right?” I said, my cheeks flaming, hurt and a little pissed off.

“I had no right. I’m your professor. I swore to myself I wouldn’t touch you again. I apologize. There is no excuse--”

“Kyle. I’m fine. You didn’t take advantage of me. I knew exactly what I wanted.”

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said firmly. I wished my nipples didn’t get hard when he used that stern, no nonsense tone with me.

“If that’s what you want,” I said, trying to play it cool, like I didn’t care either way.

But I was very conflicted. On one hand, he was right. We couldn’t be student-professor, intern-mentor and still fuck all over his office. It was against the university rules, and it could cost him his job and me my degree. It was also kind of sleazy, although the fact that sneaking around turned me on was another story.

On other hand, I wanted him with a huge, craven need. The fact that he could compose himself so fast and say he was sorry and we had to quit seeing each other was hurtful and shocked me. I was still feeling flutters of bliss between my legs, a pleasant soreness where he had gone so deep.

---