Daphne Vs. Daddy

No, Kim and Natalie are still there, except instead of imagining their own Trask Workout, their faces have gone white and they’re staring over my shoulder.

My right shoulder.

“He’s right there, isn’t he?” I whisper.

They nod in tandem.

God, let me die now. Right now. Strike me dead. Any moment now, just death.

.

.

.

Fuuccckkkk…I’m still alive. And now, I’m going to have to turn and face him.

158

Anders

I scan Dos Caminos with my eyes, looking for Christine. I hear a group of girls giggling in one of the booths at the far end of the room, so that’s where I head to. Christine’s voice comes at me like a breeze, and I feel my cock twitching inside my pants. Fuck, I need to get it together.

“As big as his hands are, I’m sure Anders’ cock is huge,” I hear Christine say as I’m closing in on her booth. She’s sitting with her back to me, but two of her friends are looking straight at me, the smile on their faces dropping as they realize who I am. Yap, girls, Ander-with-the-huge-dick, that’s me. “Wrapping my mouth around it is going to be a real feat. It’s so damn big, I could probably do pull-ups on it. I could call it my Trask Workout and do it every morning when I wake up, snuggled next to him. Can’t you just see it?” Christine continues, oblivious to the fact that I’m standing right behind her. I got to give it to her: she has quite an imagination.

This is going to be fun.

Suddenly, she falls quiet and whispers something at her two friends. They nod, their faces pale and expressionless.

“Hello, ladies,” I tell the three of them, turning the charm on and giving them my best smile.

“Hello,” Christine’s two friends greet me with a faux smile, and then she finally turns around on her seat to face me.

“Hey, professor,” she whispers, her face as red as a ripe tomato. She looks even cuter like this. “Glad you came.”

“No, I’m the one who’s glad,” I tell her with a grin. “I got here right on time,” I say, taking a glance at my wristwatch. Her cheeks become even more flushed, and she starts twiddling her thumbs in a nervous tick. “May I?” I ask, pointing at the seat next to her.

“Of course,” she hurries, sliding over in the seat. With a nervous smile she points at her two friends and introduces them, “Professor, Ashley and Kim. Girls, this is Professor Anders.”

“Nice to meet you, girls,” I flash them my smile once more, and they smile back at me, standing up in a hurry.

“Likewise, Professor,” Ashley says, and then Kim takes the lead.

“Anyway, we have to go… We’re late for, uh, yoga!” Kim tells us, and then grabs her friend by the hand. In a matter of seconds, they cross the whole room and vanish.

“Do your friends always do yoga after a tequila marathon?” I ask Christine, pointing at the pile of empty glasses sitting on her table.

“They weren’t very subtle, were they?” Christine sighs, looking down at her hands. She’s still twiddling her thumbs, and her face hasn’t gotten any less flushed.

“No, they weren’t,” I laugh, and then turn around to order a 21 year old Glenfiddich, no ice. The waiter nods at me after jotting down my request on his pad, and then disappears behind the counter.

“Professor, I’m sorry… The girls and I we were just, uh, fooling around,” she stammers, making an herculean effort to look me in the eyes. I stare at her cherry lips, momentarily lost in how beautiful she is. I think back to when I carried her limp body to the nursery, her sweet scent crawling up my nostrils and numbing my brain.

I slide into the booth, and turn back to Christine, taking in her evening outfit in one glance. A pencil skirt that reaches her knees, sure, but it has a slit up the front of her left thigh that shows a smooth expanse of lickable tanned skin. The slit stops tantalizingly close to her hip and I have to wonder if she bothered with panties when she came tonight. Is she that kind of bad girl?

I know I want to find out.

I know I shouldn’t, because she’s my student, but that re