CHAPTER SIX: Jude
My plan to become a grad school Teacher’s Pet—more to the point, Professor Holden Moss’ Pet—had worked better than I could have ever hoped it would. It was a smart move, putting a copy of my now infamous nymphomaniac term paper in Professor Markle’s desk ahead of time so that Professor Moss would find it before class.
And letting him see my pussy and taste my juices just sealed the deal. The whole thing was like something out of a porno movie. I could barely believe it was happening, even as Holden was looking me in the eye and sucking the juices from my pussy off my fingers. If it was any indication of how incredibly hot our affair was going to be, it was going to be off the fucking charts!
Scalding hot!
Nuclear freakin’ hot!
Like sun scorching hot!
First off, he knew I was an admitted nymphomaniac and knew what that meant when it came to unbridled sex. He knew I was ready, willing, and able to fuck his brains out, and do pretty much anything else he wanted me to. And my research about Professor Holden Moss told me that he was ready, willing, and able to play along no matter what game I came up with. To quote my own paper, Holden Moss was a fuck machine!
I had done my homework even before meeting Holden for the first time. It was not hard to find lots of girls who had fucked the hunky psyche professor with the brooding good looks. He was known around campus for being a creative lover with a big cock who seemed to care as much about his lover’s sexual satisfaction than his own, which was an odd thing given that most men in his position would use their power over their female students just to get their own rocks off.
To the contrary, every girl I talked to said Holden Moss was the most caring lover they had ever had. And a guy who was not afraid to try anything, anywhere, anytime. He was the perfect guy for a girl like me.
Holden texted his address to me, along with the words, “See you at 8. Now send me something fun to tide me over.”
I grinned because I got the text while I was sitting in a Starbucks waiting on Izzy to arrive. I was at a corner table with my back to the crowd. I took my phone’s camera and held it out to take a selfie. Before pressing the button, I pulled my tee-shirt up to expose my big titties to the camera. My boobs were large and milky white, with pink areolas the size of golf balls and nipples like hard, pink gumdrops. I let the tee-shirt drop and looked at the picture. There I was, smiling with my tits hanging out. Behind me a couple dozen students were chatting and drinking coffee, completely oblivious to the fun I was having just a few feet away.
“Chew on that for a while, Professor Moss,” I said as I sent the image to Holden, along with the message, I wish you were here.
Even as my phone dinged to let me know the message was sent, I could feel the hot juices pooling between my thighs, soaking the legs of the loose running shorts and seat beneath me. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was looking, then slid a finger between my legs. I pulled the shorts aside and rubbed my clit, which was swollen and tender to the touch. I dipped my finger into my pussy to lube up the tip, then started rubbing my clit nub, each touch sending shockwaves through my body, making me tremble with desire as I brought myself to orgasm right there in the Starbucks with all those people around.
I slid my finger into my hole and let my thumb take over clit duties. I worked my finger in and out, in and out, as my thumb rolled my clit back and forth, back and forth. I closed my eyes and thought of Holden Moss. I imagined that it was his tongue on my clit and his fingers slowly plunging inside me. I could feel him there, his breath hot on my cheek, his hand working me toward climax.
The orgasm came quickly, shuddering through me like a rumbling earthquake. I gushed hot juices over my hand and onto the chair, making a mess that I would worry about cleaning up later. That was one of the things about being a nympho. I lived for the moment of orgasm, without worrying about repercussions or consequences.
I would make myself cum sitting in a coffee shop full of people without caring about who might see. If anyone was watching, good for them.
If they were close enough to smell the juices of my pussy over the smell of their coffee, I hoped they enjoyed the aroma.
If they watched as I brought myself to full orgasm with my own hand in a public place, that was just cream in the coffee, so to speak.
If I created a pool of pussy juices in the chair where I sat, oh well, that’s what they made Clorox Cleanup for. Well, maybe not specifically, but I’d clean up my mess when I was done, so no worries there.
I felt the orgasm ripple through me like waves across a pond. My thighs closed around my hand as every muscle in my body went tight. I leaned forward and bit the shit out of my tongue to keep from screaming in ecstasy. After a moment, I opened my eyes to find Izzy sitting across from me with a wicked smile on her face.
“Was it good for you, too?” she asked, plucking a wad of napkins from the dispenser and holding them out for me. I made a goofy face with my tongue hanging out as I took the napkins and tucked them between my legs.
“It was very good for me,” I sighed, totally unashamed, not embarrassed in the least. Me and Iz had been besties for a long time. She knew how I was wired and vice versa. I’d seen her do some off the wall shit with guys, so me diddling myself in a Starbucks was no shock to her.
“So, I take it your plan to use and abuse Professor Holden Moss is on schedule?” she asked as she pried the lid off her steaming cup of black coffee. Izzy was a coffee snob. If you drank anything other than black coffee with no fixings, you were a pussy, unworthy of calling yourself a true coffee-holic.
“We’re having dinner and drinks at his house at 8 o’clock,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows.
She picked up her cup and blew cool air into it. The steam rose and settled beneath her dark eyes. “So, you’ll be fucking his brains out by what, 8:05?”
“Oh, I’m in no rush,” I said, lifting my venti caramel macchiato to my lips and taking a sip. I smacked my lips and sighed. “Heck, we might even make it to 8:10 or 8:15.”
Izzy grinned at me. “Damn girl, your self-control never ceases to amaze me.”
“I know right!” I said as I tucked the napkins between my legs to soak up the juices that were still flowing out of me. “Sometimes I amaze myself.”
“You gonna need more napkins?” Izzy asked.
“No, I think I’m fine,” I said, scolding her with my eyes. “I may need some fresh shorts, though.”
“So, you talked to him before class, I assume?” She leaned in and gave me the eye. “Are you sure this is smart? You know what happened last time.”
“Last time it was different,” I said, hitching my chin at her. “I’ve done my homework this time. Holden Moss is not married, is not engaged, and by all accounts, not a total asshole like Keith Calloway.”
“Still, you need to be careful,” she said, shaking her head. “I have never liked this teacher’s pet thing you do. It’s just too risky. It could get you kicked out of school and the teacher fired.”
“Iz, I’m not going to get anyone fired,” I said, rolling my eyes at the notion. “We’re two consenting adults who want to fuck each other’s brains out. The school has no business in our business.”
“Tell that to the dean,” Izzy said. “Don’t fool yourself, girl. You are playing with fire and you know it.”
“I know,” I sighed. “But that’s what makes it so freakin’ hot.”