Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“Is it because if I pull this skirt any higher, I’m going to see your little panties covering that tight little pussy, and when I see those, I’m going to see how fucking wet you are, and then I’m going to know just how naughty a little bad girl you are, with your bad girl pussy getting all wet and messy for your Professor.”
It is, without question, the filthiest, dirtiest, most scandalizingly forward thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
…And instantly, I’m wetter than I’ve ever, ever been.
Soaked, actually, and I can feel my thin panties molding to my lips—so wet I’m afraid I’m going to leave a freaking puddle on his desk. Oliver reaches for my skirt again, and my hand stay on his, holding him back for one second, before they falter and drop. He grins wolfishly as my hands move to the side, and slowly, he pushes my skirt up all the way to my waist.
I moan quietly, my legs moving together on instinct, but he groans as he shakes his head, his eyes blazing fiercely.
“Uh-uh, little one,” he purrs. “Don’t you close them. Let me see, Anastasia. Show me how messy your naughty panties are.”
I gasp, whimpering in pleasure as his hands slide to my thighs again. He tugs my legs open, spreading them wide, and my face goes red as I feel a man’s eyes on me, there, right on my soaked little panties, for the very first time.
I’ve worn a white cotton thong, with pink lacy edges and a little pink heart right over the front of them. Except right now, they’re so wet that they’re literally transparent, clinging wetly to my pussy with only the pink heart giving me the very tiniest possible shred of modesty.
“My my my,” Oliver growls, his eyes dropping to them and his whole face tightening and hardening with something wild and hungry. He makes a tsking sound as he shakes his head.
“I think someone’s exactly as naughty a girl as I thought.”
His hand slides up my thigh, my breath catching more and more, until his fingers brush lightly over the lacy edge, right at the little crease between my thigh and my pussy. I moan deeply, trembling, and when my hips buck traitorously, pushing gently against his hand like my body is desperate for more, he chuckles darkly.
“Eager little girl, aren’t you?”
He groans, and when his hand slides over to the front of my panties, I gasp, panting as the pleasure melts through me.
“And such a wet little girl too,” he groans. His thumb brushes up and down, stroking my pussy through the sticky wet cotton, and everything around me starts to blur as the pleasure between my legs begins to pulse.
Oliver leans close, his breath on my bare thighs making my skin prickle and shiver, and when he looks up at me, my eyes lock on his and I fall into his gaze.
“I think we should take these off.”
“I think we should too,” I manage to whimper out breathlessly.
His thumb keeps stroking me as his fingers slide up to the top edge of my panties. Two of them slide under, and he starts to tug them, stretching the waist down as he pulls it lower and lower, until he can see my bare, clean, shaved totally smooth lips. And he groans.
“Fuck, Anastasia,” he growls, his face blazing with fierce lust and heat. His fingers tighten, tugging my panties lower even though they’re still on my hips. The fabric digs into my skin, but there’s this restraint feeling to it that sends my pulse racing. He grunts, stretching my little panties out as he pushes them lower, baring all of me to his hungry gaze.
He moves in, and my breath catches as I feel his across my bare, slick lips. He pauses for one second, his eyes flicking up to mine—one last little shred of hesitation on his face.
“I’m eighteen,” I whisper. I don’t know why, maybe because that’s what I think his lingering pause might be for. He growls lowly, his eyes flashing into mine as the words leave my lips.
“I’m eighteen, Professor Bard,” I whisper again, a touch of urgency and need in my voice that I know he hears.
“Eighteen,” he purrs, his jaw grinding.
“Please,” I gasp quietly, so… so… desperate to feel his mouth on me. So eager. So I’ve-been-waiting-for-this-for-way-too-long-to-stop now.
And slowly, he grins.
“There’s a good girl.”
He leans in, and when is tongue drags over my bare lips, I throw my head back and cry out. Pleasure I’ve never even dreamed of melts through me, a flooding sensation starting between my legs and radiating out through my entire body. Oliver groans, moving back in and letting his tongue swipe up over my pussy again. His tongue bumps over my clit, and I cry out, trembling and bucking my hips wantonly against his mouth.