The lock clicked and my cunt clenched so hard I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep from making a sound.
Professor Cane stood with his back against my door, eyes locked on mine, the folded drawing still warm in his jacket pocket. The air in my room felt thicker now. Hotter. Like every filthy thing I’d ever fantasized about had just been given permission to happen.
He didn’t speak right away. He just looked at me—at the way my tank top hung off one shoulder, at the wet spot darkening the crotch of my sleep shorts, at the way my thighs kept pressing together like I could hide how dripping I already was. My heart was slamming against my ribs. My c**t throbbed in time with it.
“Turn around,” he said. Quiet. Controlled. Absolute.
I should have told him to f**k off. Instead I turned sl
