Him in that Speedo, washing my car, soap covering his lean, bare chest. His big, dark, gold-filled eyes find mine, a glint of promise sparking within them.

This is so fucking wrong. I shouldn’t be jacking off to thoughts of my student. But it’s just me here… no one will ever know. And it’s just once.

My fist tightens around my length, speeding up the strokes, as the fantasy behind my eyes morphs. Cash is now on his knees in front of me, palms flat on his thighs. Pretty doe eyes looking up at me through those dark, thick eyelashes. He’s so obedient. So good. Waiting for my instruction. For my order.

“Tongue out, Bambi,” I would say, cock in hand, ready to shove inside his wet, hot, waiting mouth.

Like the docile student he is, his mouth falls open, pink tongue sticking out.

“What a good boy you are.” I would run my fingers through this hair, petting him with my praise. My cock would glide along the length of his tongue, before sliding toward the back of his throat. His full, kissed red lips would close around me, tongue lapping me up as he sucks like it was his birthright to do so.

The vision of him on his knees, serving me, has my hips thrusting, cock fucking my fist savagely. My hand slams into the wall in front of me, head hanging as the water beats down on me. As my pulse intensifies, my breathing catches, hand never slowing down. A vision of me pulling out of his mouth and painting his face with my cum has my balls drawing up, toes curling, and hot, thick ropes spurting out, spraying the bottom of the shower.

Holy fuck. That was intense.

And so very fucking wrong.

I’m screwed.

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Cash DeMarco

November

“Let me get this straight. You’re going out of town for the entire weekend with your professor?”

My buddy, Knox, and I are out to lunch. “Yup,” I reply nonchalantly.

“The same professor you have a constant boner for?” His lips tilt into a smirk as he shoves a French fry into his mouth.

“I do not,” I scoff.

“You do, but that’s beside the point. It’s that professor, though?”

“Yes.”

He’s grilling me about the road trip with Stone tomorrow. This was the reason I didn’t fill him in about this until now. I still don’t know how I feel about it. Clearly, I’m fucking stoked, but I’m also nervous… which is unlike me. I don’t get nervous… ever.

“So, that means you guys are fuckin’?”

Choking on my soda, I spit it all over the table in front of me, almost spewing it on Knox. “Jesus. What the fuck, Knox? No. It’s a literary convention… for school.”