Hard Hitter

That’s the only reason I can think of for how I’m feeling right now. When the goddess first walked into the room, all I could think about was sliding my dick inside her and fucking her until she came over and over again. I still want to do that (and more), but now I know that there’s no way I’d be able to kick her out of my room or just say goodbye in the morning, never to be seen again.

Now I know that I have to have her. I have to claim her. I have to make her mine and I have to show the rest of the world that she belongs to me. That’s a feeling I’ve never felt before.

I guess you could say I’ve been enjoying my status here at school. Girls line up to have a shot with me, and until now, who have I been to deny them that? You may think I’m cocky, and you may be right, but I work hard and deserve to have a little fun. But when I look at this girl, whoever she is, all those future potential hookups seem meaningless to me.

All I want is her.

“My, my, my,” Mrs. Potter says, clearing her throat as she sweeps up my body with her eyes. “I see you’re not nervous, Mr. Moore.”

I grin. She noticed my cock. She tried to hide it but failed.

“I don’t get nervous.” I shrug. “That’s why I’m a winner.”

A girl on my right blows annoyed air out her nose, and one of the boys just shakes his head. But I’ve got my eyes on her. But instead of smiling or giving me eyes back, she sort of frowns and looks away as she gets her pencils out of her bag.

Okay. So she’s going to be a tough nut to crack. I like that.

“If you could get into yo

ur pose, Mr. Moore, then we will begin.”

Mrs. Potter e-mailed me the pose before class. She pulls a low stool up and I slide one foot on it, brace myself with my other arm on the box I’m sitting on, and turn my head directly to her.

The class starts drawing, and she looks up at me every few seconds, but she never catches my eye. Forty-five minutes go by and we don’t make eye contact once. But as I’m watching her, I see her take a deep breath and watch as her cheeks go red. I know what she’s drawing now…

Casually, I flex the muscles in my cock, causing it to jerk slightly between my legs. I’m still half-hard and will be for as long as she’s here. She can’t hide her reaction; she takes another breath and brushes her hair back with one hand. As she draws, she starts preening, twisting her blond locks around a finger. As much as she might be trying to hide it from me, I can tell that she wants me.

And I want her. If it could, my dick would be screaming at me to get the fuck up off of this box, put her in my place, bend her over, yank those short-shorts down over that thick booty and slide my dick into her tight little pussy. I feel a pulse of blood to my dick as I wonder whether or not she has any panties on.

She probably does. She’s a good girl; I can tell that by looking. But that just means I get to take them off with my teeth when I bury my face between those heavenly thighs. Fuck, I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t even remember the last time a girl was able to have this kind of control over me.

I glance at the clock for the rest of the class, and by the time it’s over, I’m completely beside myself, ready to take her into the bathroom and have my way with her. But as Mrs. Potter announces the end of class, and I stand up and pull my robe on, my goddess gets up quickly out of her chair and slips out the door like she’s a fugitive and the cops are after her.

“Hey!” I call out as I race after her. I can hear Mrs. Potter saying something to me as I go, but I’m not listening. I did my job. All I care about now is her.

“Hey, wait up!” I say. She’s walking quickly, causing her hips to sway with such perfection that it practically hurts. All I can think about is what that ass of hers is going to look like when I bend her over and take her from behind.

“What’s your name?”

She still isn’t stopping. I pick up the pace and pass her, then stop in front of her. “Whoa, what’s the rush? Can’t the model introduce himself to his artist?”

“Emma,” she says, her eyes on the floor. “My name’s Emma.”

“You can’t look at me, Emma?” I ask. My heart is racing. I’m hanging on the edge of a knife just begging for a glimpse of her gorgeous eyes. “I mean, at my eyes? You were just looking at the rest of me for almost three hours.”

“It was…for the class…” she whispers. Shit, even her voice is pretty. “And I was being…anatomical.”

“So that’s why you were blushing?” I ask her. “Because you were being anatomical?”

That gets her. She looks up at me, her eyes fiery and beautiful – eyes that could bring me to my fucking knees. Something inside me is blazing for her. A flicker of images slide through my mind, a movie of what my life could be, and they’re not just clips that could be uploaded to Pornhub.

I see us together, kissing, cuddling, waking up in the same bed. I see her watching me practice, squirting water into my mouth as I come over to the dugout and cheering me on from the stands as I hit my first home run in the MLB. I see me down on one knee with a ring in my hand…

Fuck! What is going on with me!?

Love at first sight? That’s bullshit, right? Just fantasies women perpetuate to one another. But if it’s not real, what is it that I’m feeling right now? Because it’s sure not just isolated to my dick.

“You’re pretty cocky, huh?” Emma asks. I barely hear what she’s saying; I can’t keep my eyes off her plump, glistening lips. If her mouth is that pretty, I can’t imagine what her pussy must be like.