I look at my watch. "You have ninety minutes before you need to leave for your next class. Is that right?"

"I could always skip it," she begins.

"You won't be skipping class. You'll do your homework, and you'll attend your classes, and you'll study. You're certainly not going to skip class because you want to hook up with someone."

She brings her hand to her forehead in a mock salute. "Yes, Sir," she says, pausing. "But it's not just someone. It's you."

"You're not skipping class to hook up with me, either," I tell her. "Have you eaten lunch yet?"

"I was going to grab something at the dining hall between classes."

"So that's a no, then?" I turn toward the kitchen. "Come on."

She follows me to the kitchen where I pull open the refrigerator door and realize I have no idea what the girl likes to eat. When I turn around to ask her, she's standing beside the oversized island, running her palm along the grey marble top. "Your house is so… you," she says softly. "It's nice, I mean. I don't know why I said it was you. I don't really know you exactly, just…"

She stops rambling, her hands going to her arms.

"Are you cold?" I ask.

"No," she replies. "I – I'm nervous. I thought we were going to… you know."

I sigh, closing the refrigerator door and going to her. I pull one of the stools away from the island and guide her to sit down on it, then place my hands on either side of her thighs to grip the edge of the seat as I look into her eyes. "You thought we were going to do what, exactly?"

She takes her lower lip between her teeth. "You know… do what we did in your office."

"So you thought you'd make it inside my house for all of five minutes before I yanked down those shorts and spanked that bare little ass and made you come all over my fingers?"

Her breath is short. "Maybe."

"Patience is a virtue, Purity," I whisper. Her cheeks flush that pink color again, sending my cock twitching immediately in response. I'm going to be as hard as a rock in two seconds if I'm not careful. I clear my throat. "Now, what would you like to eat?"

Her lips twitch at the corners. "You."

I let out a rumble under my breath. "Don't tempt me, Purity," I warn.

She bats her eyes innocently. "Was I tempting you?"

"I'm working very hard at being a gentleman today," I tell her. "So unless you'd like me to push you down onto your knees right now in this kitchen and pull you by your ponytail onto my cock – and unless you think you're ready for me to come in that smartass little mouth of yours – I'd stop joking about things of that nature."

She flushes a deeper shade of red. "Maybe I am ready for that."

"You're nowhere near ready to swallow all of me," I tell her, even as my cock hardens at the mere suggestion of being inside that virgin mouth.

Her brow furrows. "Then what were you going to teach me?"

I could take her right now up against the island or on the cold tile floor. I could take her and I think she'd even let me. But I don't want her to just let me; I want her to beg me to take her because she aches for me.

"I'm eighteen, you know," she states. "I'm eighteen, and I've only been touched by a man once. That was in your office."

I let out a growl. "So, one orgasm and now you're dying for it?"

Her face colors. She's obviously embarrassed. "Maybe," she confesses. "Is that bad?"

My heart softens.

I have to remind myself that this girl had it drilled into her all her life that her desires were wrong. I was trying to do something besides tear her clothes off the instant she walked through my front door because I was attempting to maintain some semblance of self-control, not imply that her desire was bad.

Sliding my fingers under her chin, I tilt her head up to look at me. "Never think that anything about what you want – what turns you on - is bad, little girl. You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect."

"I don't know what turns me on."

"No?" I grip the sides of the kitchen stool she's sitting on and pull it until the seat is right up against my thighs. Then I lean close to her with my lips near her ear. "Does hearing me whisper in your ear turn you on?"

She squirms. "I think so."

"You think so? Well, I'll have to do better than that. Does hearing me say dirty things turn you on?"

"Maybe," she whispers.

"Did you like when I pulled your skirt up over your ass and put my fingers between your legs and touched your clit?"

She lets out a little whimper, all the confirmation I need.

"Did you enjoy knowing that you made me hard?"

She moans.

"Do you know what it did to me, knowing that I was the first man to come all over that sweet virgin pussy?"

Her breathing grows faster and faster and her eyes close.

"I only got to see some of you in my office. I want to see all of you. Take off your clothes for me."

"Here?" Her eyelids fly open. "In your kitchen? In broad daylight?"

"I want to see you in broad daylight. Is that so hard to believe?"

"I feel a little self-conscious." But her fingers go to the button on her shorts anyway.

I back away from her, leaning against the opposite counter beside the stove so that I can watch her. "I'm aware of that, but you have nothing to be self-conscious about. Take off your clothes so I can see all of you."

Taking a deep breath, she reaches for her shirt and pulls it over her head, dangling it between her fingers for a moment before dropping it to the floor. Then she stands beside the island with one hand on her hip, clad only in her light pink bra and jean shorts. Her full breasts overflow from her bra, and my cock hardens at the mere sight of the swells of her breasts in the cups. "I feel silly with you watching me like this."

"Lesson One: Nothing about you taking your clothes off in front of me is silly. Nothing. Do you see how hard I am right now?"

"Yes," she answers, her gaze going to the way my hard-on obviously tents my pants.

"Reach behind your back and unhook your bra," I order, my voice hard. "I want to see those perfect tits."

A coy expression on her face, she does what I tell her to do. Her bra joins her shirt on the floor, and then she's standing in front of me topless. Her breasts are as perfect as the rest of her – full and perky, her nipples tiny rose-colored nubs that make me want to run my tongue around them in circles.

I think I could make her come from just my mouth on her breasts alone.

"There is nothing sexier than watching you do exactly what I tell you to do," I tell her. "Watching you take off your clothes in my kitchen simply because I asked you to do it, putting your perfect little body on display for me, is the hottest thing I've ever seen. There's nothing silly about it. Lesson One involves you getting comfortable with me watching you."

She opens the top button on her jean shorts. "Is there an entire lesson plan?"

"What kind of a teacher would I be without a lesson plan?" I watch as she pulls her shorts over her hips. They fall to the ground around her ankles, and she kicks them to the side. Then she's standing there in my kitchen in her pink cotton briefs, plain underwear that shouldn't be sexy at all but are somehow the hottest thing I've ever seen. "Spread your legs for me. I want to know if your panties are wet."

She moves one foot to the side and then looks at me questioningly. "How do I show you that?"

"Put your finger between your legs, little girl."

I watch as she slides her finger down the front of her underwear and touches herself. Her eyes go closed for a moment, but then flick back open as she withdraws her finger to show me. With her standing here naked like this, I'm surprised there's not already a wet spot growing on my pants.

"Do you have a plan for me, Sir?" she asks.

"I have lots of plans for you." Hell, the plans I have for her would make a sailor blush. "But right now, I want you to show me that wet little finger."

"Yes, Sir," she whispers, holding up her fingers.

"You're lucky I have the self-control to stay over here, Ms. Taylor – or else I would be over there on my knees between your legs tasting you for myself." She makes a little moaning sound in response, and I cut her off before I lose control. "Now, I want to see you stand here in my kitchen in broad daylight and make yourself come in front of me."

She blushes furiously. "I've never been naked in front of anyone before. I've never touched myself in front of anyone."

"You pulled your skirt up for me in my office, Ms. Taylor," I remind her. "And you certainly didn't have a problem touching your swollen little clit then, did you?"

"That was different," she whispers.

But her hands run over the sides of her hips, her movements uncertain. She wants to touch herself. She's dying to get off. It's written all over her.

"How exactly was it different? Was it different because you thought I couldn't see the way you slid your finger between your legs when you were bent over?"

"You weren't looking at me then," she replies. "You're right here in front of me, watching me."

"You should be looked at," I tell her. "It would be a travesty not to watch you come, to miss the expression on your face the moment you crash over the edge. Now, I'm going to watch you put your hand down your panties and touch yourself exactly like you do at night when you're lying in bed. That is what you do at night, isn't it?"

"Sometimes," she whispers. "But not since you told me not to do it unless you gave me permission."

My cock is hard at the thought of her lying in bed wearing a cute little pair of pajamas or a t-shirt and shorts, reaching between her legs to touch herself as she thinks of me.

I make a mock sympathy sound. "Is that why you're so desperate for it right now? You've gone days without getting off?"

She takes her lower lip between her teeth and nods.

"So you haven't touched yourself at all since the last time I saw you?"

She shakes her head. "Not at all, Sir. I was very good all weekend long."

"Well, that deserves a reward. Good girls get rewarded. Should I let you come for me?"

"Yes," she breathes.

"Yes please, Sir," I correct her.

"Yes, please." She pauses. "Sir."

"Slide your fingers into your panties and touch yourself. Show me how you make yourself come."

"I like you touching me better."

I cross the space between us quickly, stopping when I'm so close to her that we're nearly touching. She looks up at me, her lips falling open, and inhales sharply. That inhale turns into a gasp as I use my finger to trace the curve of one breast and then the other, my eyes never leaving hers.

When I trail my finger over a nipple, it raises to a hard little pebble and she lets out a moan that makes me want to dispense with all of the foreplay and fuck her right now on the kitchen floor.

I let out a growl, frustrated with myself for my need to be restrained. "Don't test me, Purity," I warn her, my voice ragged, "or else I won't be inclined to let you come at all. Now, slide those fingers between your legs and fuck yourself."

Her eyes go wide, but she does exactly what I tell her to do. She reaches between her legs, her fingers inside her panties. "Yes, Sir."

"See how easy that was?" I ask. "Now, I can't tell what your fingers are doing inside those panties, so you'll have to describe it for me."

"I'm – I'm touching myself," she says softly. Her tongue runs along her lower lip as she looks at me.

"You can do better than that. Where are you touching yourself?"

"I'm – um, pressing my fingers against my clitoris."

Hearing her say the word "clitoris" makes me unreasonably pleased. "Keep going, Purity," I encourage her. "The more you tell me things you're doing, the more I'll reward you."

"Reward me how?" she asks, but the look I give her silences her questions. "I mean, um, I'm rubbing my clitoris – my clit – with my fingers, and it feels really good."

She's so awkward that it's endearing.

"Good girl. This is how you get rewarded." Using my fingertip, I tease her nipple by stroking it in circles until it's a rock-hard little peak. "Does that feel good?"

"It feels so good," she says, her voice breathy as she rubs herself faster.

"It feels so good to do what, Purity?"

"It feels so good to touch my clit with my fingers," she moans. "It feels so good when you touch my nipple like that. It makes me wet."

"Show me how wet you are."

"I'm very wet." She pulls her fingers from between her legs, her fingertips glistening.

"Have you ever tasted yourself?"

She shakes her head. "I couldn't do that."

Pulling my fingers away from her breast, I take hold of her wrist and pull her fingers up to her lips. "Open your mouth. I want you to see how sweet you are."

"But you've never tasted me," she protests. "You're saying I'm sweet, but what if I don't taste like –?"

Letting go of her wrist, I drop between her legs. She lets out a loud squeal of surprise as I hold her fast with one hand on her hip and reach between her legs with my other hand to peel her underwear to the side, baring her pussy. Without warning her, I cover her with my mouth, my tongue going right for her slit and moving all the way up to her clit.

She tastes better than I could have ever imagined, sweet like honey and sugar. If I stay a moment longer between her legs, I'll come right here without putting a hand on my cock.

Hell, if she comes on my face right now, it's game over. I'll take the girl's virginity on the kitchen floor, everything else in the world be damned.

With a desperate groan, I yank her away from my mouth as quickly as I had put my lips on her. When I rise, I find her face etched with shock.

Before she can protest, I kiss her.

For a split second, her hands go to my chest as if she's about to push me away. Her palms press against me and her body stiffens as she tastes herself on my lips.

Then her tongue finds mine and she just melts against me.

I only meant to kiss her so she could taste herself. I only wanted her to know how incredible she tastes. I wanted to kiss away her defiance. That's it and nothing more.

But when she melts against me, her body practically liquid, I can't stop kissing her. It takes me by surprise, how much I don't want to ever stop kissing her.

This is the type of kiss that shatters everything. It's the kind of kiss that stops you in your tracks, flashing a neon sign in front of your face to tell you that what you're doing right now means something. It's the kind of kiss that leaves you powerless in its wake.

That's precisely why I tear my lips away from hers.

It's not the kind of kiss I expected from this girl. My first kiss was nothing of this sort. It was fumbling and awkward, not remotely sexy in any way.

This kiss was fucking earth-shattering.

I don't often get taken by surprise. I certainly don't expect to be surprised by an eighteen-year-old ingénue who knows nothing about kissing or sex or life. Yet now I'm left standing here with my heart in my throat trying to collect myself – and trying not to appear as unsettled by this as I am.

Purity puts her fingertips to her swollen lips and blinks several times in quick succession. She clears her throat. "That was, um…"

I should finish her sentence with something smart-assed, but I can't quite bring myself to do it.

I need to regain control and composure. What I don't need to do is talk to her about this damned kiss.

Screw watching her touch herself in front of me. I'm making this girl come myself. "I'm going to fuck you with my fingers, Purity," I tell her. "I'm going to slide my fingers inside those panties and you're going to come all over my hand. You're going to go to your next class smelling like sex. Do you understand?"

Her hands go to my arms, and she clings to me with her fingertips pressing into my biceps. She nods and bites on that lower lip of hers. "Yes, Sir."

I slip my fingers inside her underwear, pressing them to her swollen clit. She lets out a whimper, her face inches from mine. I could easily kiss her again, but I don't because I'm not going to allow this girl to take me by surprise the way she just did when I kissed her.

That's not how this works. I maintain control and I unravel her, not the other way around. Maintaining control is why I don't throw her up against the side of the island and fuck her right now.

She makes little moaning sounds, her breath short, and she clings to my biceps. I find her entrance with my fingertips. She's soaking wet, the fabric of her panties drenched already. "I'm going to slide my fingers inside this tight little cunt," I growl. "My fingers will be the first fingers inside of you."

She whimpers and nods, pushing herself against my hand. The girl is so sexually frustrated that she's easily brought to the edge. Of course, I'm like a teenage boy, the way I'm nearly coming in my damned pants around her.

"Is that a yes, Purity?"

"Yes," she whines. Her head goes back, her hair falling down around her shoulders, and her eyes close lightly. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir," she says. "Please put your fingers inside me."

Hearing the edge in her tone, the way her voice trails off into a little whine, makes me want to plunge all of me inside of her. "Are you absolutely sure?"

I tease her entrance, making sure she's ready for it. Her slickness tells me she's more than ready, but there's something about this that feels permanent, a bell that can't be un-rung. Even though it's not my cock going inside her, it still feels like sex. No one's ever been inside of her, and I'll be the first.

She whimpers. "Please."

I probe her gently using my middle finger, barely pushing into her at all. I get as far as my knuckle and have to stop to catch my own breath at the realization of just how fucking tight the girl is.

Her eyes fly open, and she looks at me with surprise. Then she lets out a low groan that almost makes me think she's coming right now.

"You're so damned tight, Purity," I whisper, my mouth going to her ear.

She rocks against me, and I push my finger inside her further until my palm is pressed hard against her clit. She clutches my arms even tighter. "You're so damned big," she moans.

Oh, hell. I'm trying to give the girl a minute and let her adjust to having something inside of her, but then she goes and says that.

About my finger.

"That's my finger, little girl," I remind her. When I begin to stroke her inside, she reciprocates by rocking against the palm of my hand, her hips in rhythm with my movements.

"Is it supposed to feel like this?" she pants. She's growing even wetter, her pussy dripping onto my palm. Even on my fingers, she's the best thing I've ever felt in the world.

"How does it feel?"

"Like… oh, my gosh… like… I don't know…" Her voice trails off as she grinds against my hand.

I stroke her faster inside, pressing on the spot in her that I think will make her lose control. She grips me tighter and tighter as she rocks on my palm, dangerously close to coming completely unraveled. She tosses her head back, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, and makes little whimpering sounds.

If I pressed my lips against hers, she'd come apart.

So would I.

"Tell me how it feels to be standing in my kitchen wearing nothing while my finger fucks that tight little cunt," I demand, my voice low. "How does it feel to have my hand inside your panties in broad daylight? You know, if my next door neighbors were upstairs and they were standing on their balcony and looked down through the kitchen window at just the right angle, they'd see you spread out like this and me finger-fucking you."

That possibility is virtually nil because it would have to be at exactly the right angle, and my neighbor works during the day. I just want to see how she reacts to the idea of possibly getting caught.

Her eyes fly open and her expression registers surprise – but at the same time, her pussy clenches tightly around my finger.

The prospect turns her on.

The girl is kinkier than I ever thought she'd be – and barely aware of it. We've hardly grazed the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her desires.

"We should… go somewhere else." She somehow manages to groan all of the words.

"I think we should stay right here," I reply, stroking her again and again. "In fact, I think that the possibility that someone could be watching us turns you on."

"No," she moans.

God, I fucking love hearing her moan.

Bringing my other hand up, I cup her breast, thumbing her pink nipple. She moans louder, grinding herself against my palm in sync with me as I bring her higher and higher with my finger.

I want her to let go completely. I want to have her come apart beneath me as I thrust inside her.

"Pretend it's my cock, Purity. Imagine I'm fucking you right here in the kitchen. Do you want to come on my cock?"

"Yes," she begs, her voice a guttural cry.

"When I fuck you, I'm fucking you bare with nothing between us," I promise her. "I want to feel every part of you with no barrier, and when I come, I want you to feel every drop of me, warm and –"

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" she screams as she comes. Her muscles pulse around my finger in little flutters and then long squeezes as her pussy milks my finger the way it would my cock.

The thought of her pulling every last drop of cum from me makes me so hard, I can't take it any longer.

I pull my finger from between her legs. My hand is coated in her wetness and the sight makes me even more aroused. "Unbuckle my pants and take out my cock, Purity," I demand.

"Yes, Sir." She looks intoxicated from her orgasm, still dazed and slowed but not too much to unbuckle and unzip my pants.

While her fingers are busy, I take mine and push them against her lips. "Lick yourself off of my finger, sweetheart," I order, and she opens her mouth to take my finger inside. As she closes her lips around my fingertip, I let out a groan. "Wrap your hand around my cock, because this is your lesson in jerking me off."

"I don't know what to do," she protests, but then her mouth is busy taking in my finger, her hand going right for the base of my dick where she pauses, obviously uncertain.

What she doesn't know is that her inexperience is the biggest fucking aphrodisiac. "Stroke my cock," I tell her. "Not too tight. Run your hand up and down me while you suck my finger. Lick all of your juices off of my finger, baby. Imagine that it's my cock you're sucking. Suck my finger like you'd suck me."

Her eyes go closed and she takes my finger deeper in her mouth, letting out a low moan. Her hand goes up and down my cock, and although her movements are jerky and awkward, the clumsy way she jerks me off is hotter than any more experienced touch.

If I keep watching her make the face she's making right now as she sucks my fingertip, I'm going to shove my cock down her throat and give her the real thing. Pulling my finger from her mouth, I push her hand away from my cock and substitute my own. I need to come with an urgency she can't understand right now.

I stroke my length, my hand moving more quickly than hers did. I'm already on the verge of exploding. "I'm going to come all over you, Purity," I warn. "Tell me where you want me to aim."

She bites her damned lip while I wait for her answer, about to lose my mind. "I want to taste –" she starts, then stops as her cheeks turn pink.

"Now is not the time to be coy."

"I want to taste you," she says. "I want to taste your cum."

What did I do to deserve this woman??

"Get on your knees, Purity," I order. "Right now."

"Yes, Professor Ryan," she says coyly, dropping to the floor. She turns her perfect, pure, innocent, naïve little face up toward me. She opens her adorable, lush, heart-shaped lips and sticks out her tongue.

She presents herself to me and waits.

I give her exactly what she asked for. I finish myself off, stroking faster until I'm coming into her mouth. My cum drips onto her lips and down her chin, but she doesn't flinch once.

She kneels there and takes everything I give her. When I'm finished, she swallows, smiling smugly at me as she wipes her lips with her hand.

I pull her to a standing position and she giggles as she falls against me. Her body fits perfectly in my arms, and I let out a heavy exhale at the sensation of her against me. Here in my arms, she feels too right.

Too perfect.

Too close.

I shove those thoughts aside and clear my throat. "So, what would you like for lunch?"