Chapter 1: Introduction
The first time I saw Emma Johnson, I almost shit my pants in front of the whole lecture hall.
My usually muddled thoughts came to a screeching halt. It was a Monday afternoon, and I had blindly shuffled into my Psych 101 class seconds before the professor made her entrance. It was like time slowed as I watched my young, beautiful professor lift the bag from her shoulder and flip her long jet-black ponytail over it. I could almost hear each hairbrush stroke as she fluffed out her perfect French twist.
Then she caught me staring.
A naughty little smile tugged at the corners of her lips. I couldn't help but sink lower in my seat as my cheeks burned red.
I glanced around, shifting my gaze to the other students. That was when I first met Sarah, a sharp-eyed woman, quick to judge what she didn’t understand. But I knew her type: eager, fiery, and full of venom for others like me, who couldn't resist Emma's irresistible allure.
Sarah rolled her eyes, leaning in to whisper to her equally-unimpressed friend beside her when I met Emma's gaze.
I wanted to run out of the class or pretend I was invisible at least, but Emma held my gaze. As if she knew my deepest thoughts and couldn't get enough of playing with me—like a cat swatting at a mouse.
Emma wore a tight-fitting skirt that gave everyone an incredibly vivid idea of her plump and voluptuous body, causing several college boys to gawk and mutter obscene comments under their breaths.
The way her breasts bounced slightly, even with her stern composure was just enough to set my imagination on fire, especially knowing I had been the object of her teasing.
She wore a thin black sweater that revealed her ample cleavage. Her deep blue eyes would occasionally glance at me and flash at the slightest smirk which brought a fierce blush creeping on to my cheeks, as I imagined sliding my hands all over her body.
By the end of the class, I could barely stand up.
I tried to concentrate on the lecture, but Professor Emma Johnson made it incredibly difficult. She leaned against her desk, popping her hip out to the side as she wrote on the blackboard, her skirt rising even higher. She knew I was watching; it was as if she enjoyed the attention.
I couldn't resist. As I furtively watched her, I imagined her body shuddering under my touch. My tongue tracing the curve of her neck before moving down toward her heaving chest—my fingers teasing her hard nipples through the sheer fabric of her sweater.
Emma's head tilted back, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes half-closed.
"Fuck, Tom," she whispered, "You have no idea how many times I've thought about this..."
My palm moved up her inner thigh, feeling her skin quiver as the anticipation built. She reached down and clasped her hand around mine, forcing the pace faster against her already-soaked panties.
Then suddenly, she pulled me up, her lips feverish against my ear, "Get on your knees."
I wasted no time.
My other hand slipped up the inside of her skirt, and my fingers delicately ran over her soft, smooth thighs. My lips found her collarbone. She tasted like cherry lip balm, sweat, and power.
She craned her neck back, giving me more access, and I took advantage of it, traveling a few inches higher to the sensitive skin just behind her ear. Emma's entire body tensed as she let out a quiet moan. That small sound sent waves of pleasure through me.
Emma let out a soft moan as she leaned back into my embrace.
I felt her body tremble with anticipation, letting out a heavy sigh. My lips moved to hers, our mouths opening eagerly as we hungrily devoured each other. Emma's hands slipped around my waist, pulling me close to her. I could feel her warmth, her heart pounding in rhythm with mine.
We stumbled backward, toppling over her desk. Our bodies tangled in a heated embrace.
Emma's curves pressed against my lean frame. I could feel the warmth blooming between us, making my breath hitch. I reached down, my hands sliding up her thighs. Her body quivered at my touch, granting me access to the inner sanctum that was already slick with desire.
I nipped at her earlobe and whispered, "Is this what you want, Professor?"
Her hands clutched desperately onto me, pulling me close. "God, yes," she panted.
We were a mess of tangled limbs, our bodies grinding against each other in desperate need.
Emma's fingers clawed at my back, pulling me closer, as I teased her entrance with the tip of my finger.
"Fuck me, Tom," she panted.
She didn't have to ask me twice. I plunged my finger deep inside her, feeling her muscles clench around me. I added another finger, stretching her wider as she moaned my name.
Emma reached down, her fingers finding my aching erection. She stroked me firmly, making my hips buck in response.