When I’m sure she’s done, I stop. She relaxes, slumping against the headboard, drawing a long breath, and I slide out from underneath her, kneel behind her, wrap an arm around her and plant a kiss on the back of her neck.
I’m disappointed, but barely. As much as I admit I’ve been thinking about watching her while she rides my cock, it’s not as if licking her until she comes twice is a step down.
Thalia looks over her shoulder, still kneeling, resting against my headboard, and she smiles.
“You’re delicious,” I tell her, my chin resting on her shoulder. “I could get addicted to making you come over and over again, you know.”
“Oh, no,” she deadpans, turning around, still on her knees. “Sounds terrible.”
“I wouldn’t want to interfere with your studies,” I offer as she puts one arm over my shoulder, tilts her face up to mine.
“I can make time for that,” she says innocently, and bring her lips to mine.
As she does, her other hand wraps around my cock, and I groan. It’s involuntary but it only makes her squeeze harder, stroking me from root to tip.
“You’re not the problem,” she murmurs, still stroking. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s not you.”
Thalia pushes me backwards until I’m sitting and she’s on all fours, kisses me again, and then she’s spinning me around and I’m on the edge of the bed and she’s standing, her lips on mine and her hand on my cock and then she’s kissing my neck, my shoulder, my chest, and then she’s on her knees in front of me.
I groan as she takes me in her mouth, one hand still wrapped around the base of my cock, and then she slides her lips down until I hit the back of her mouth and I whisper oh, fuck and there’s a second when I think I might come on this, the very first stroke.
But I don’t and she pulls back, her lips moving down my shaft, and when she reaches the head she flicks her tongue over it and looks up at me, wicked and innocent all at once.
I want to burn the image of Thalia with my cock between her lips into my brain forever. She’s beautiful and sweet and seductive all at once, and somehow she’s here and she’s mine and even if this is dangerous, I don’t care.
Then she does it again, and again, and in no time I’m seeing stars and I’m grabbing the bedspread so hard with both hands I’m afraid I might tear it.
“I’m gonna come,” I tell her, my voice rough.
She just looks up at me again, and her tongue swirls around my cock and then she pushes her lips down my shaft one more time and I hit the back of her mouth, warm and wet and tight.
“Thalia —” I manage to growl, but then I’m already coming. She pulls halfway back but then she swallows, her mouth working around me, and she swallows again and I’m coming for her harder than I’ve ever come before.
When I finish I feel wrung out, half-melted, like I’m floating in space. I lean forward and kiss Thalia, my musky taste still on her lips as she stands.
I pull her to me, still naked, press my face into her belly, lips against her soft skin. She gives a short laugh of surprise, and then I put my arms around her, hold her close.
“You okay?” she asks softly, sounding puzzled.
I can’t help but laugh.
“I’ve never been better, and I mean that literally,” I tell her.
“Never?”
“Never,” I say, and I mean it. “You’re staying the night, aren’t you?”
“I brought a toothbrush,” she says, running a hand through my hair. “Just in case.”
“Just in case?” I tease.
“You weren’t a sure thing,” she says, laughing. “I didn’t know if you’d want me gone right away or what.”
I sigh, tighten my grip, and then lean backward. Thalia yelps as she falls on top of me, then rolls off, laughing.
“What, exactly, about me says wham, bam, thank you, ma’am?” I ask.
“People have uncharted depths,” she points out.
“Those aren’t mine.”
“All right, fine, I didn’t think that,” she admits. “I was pretty sure I’d be staying over but didn’t want to jinx it. Happy?”
“Yes,” I say, and I kiss her, and I’ve never meant it more because for the first time since we met, she’s not my student and I’m not her professor. She’s not the forbidden object of all my most fervent desires, and I’m not the dirty old man who should know better.
She’s just Thalia and I’m just me, and the outside world can go fuck itself right now. She’s lying here completely naked with her head on my shoulder, black hair fanned around her, the fingers of her left hand unconsciously tapping against my hip.
Even the email from earlier doesn’t bother me, not right now. I know I should have told her. If someone knows and thinks I’m morally bankrupt, she should know, but not right now. Right now I’m selfish and I want her to myself, fully here, fully present, not thinking about some anonymous email.