How had I not noticed how incredibly handsome—and even hot—he was before? I mean, I noticed he was good looking, but I must’ve been too absorbed in my schoolwork to realize the extent of it. Guys and dating just really aren’t on my radar these days. Like Mr. Johnson said, I’m on a scholarship and I can’t afford to blow it. Relationships tend to do that. First they’re all fun and games, someone to go out to parties and grab dinner with. Then someone gets invested and before you know it, all you can think about is that person. I let it happen once in high school and ended up getting my heart broken when he cheated on me with my best friend. After that I decided to stay away. There’s no time for distractions. I have big goals. It’s not enough to just keep my scholarship. I want to be the best. If I can be the valedictorian of both high school and college, I’ll have graduate schools eating out of my hands.
“No, it’s nothing,” I say. “Just dumb videos they were watching. It won’t happen again.”
He presses his lips together like he doesn’t believe me, but instead of arguing says, “Okay, then. I’ll leave things the way they are. But if you have any troubles at all, you can come to me.”
He folds his arms across his chest again, making his shirt tight. That’s when I notice the muscles giving his sleek arms definition. I don’t have to see him naked to know there’s a gorgeous body hiding under those clothes. Suddenly I’m breathing harder and feeling flushed. This calls for some wine and a cold shower, though I doubt that would be enough to douse the warmth spreading through the lower half of my body.
Time to go. Now. Before the wet spot growing between my legs starts to show.
As I’m walking out he says, “Don’t forget the assignment due tomorrow.”
It’s a good thing he mentioned it because now all I can think about is Mr. Johnson and his, well, Johnson.
As soon as I get back to my dorm room, I get to my computer and look up the Rocket Cocks website. My roommate spends most of her time with her boyfriend who lives off campus, so I don’t have to worry about her showing up.
It doesn’t take long for me to find the video clip I’d watched in class. The male actor—performer? I’m not exactly sure what to call him—looks a lot like a younger version of Mr. Johnson. Same broad shoulders, intense blue eyes, slightly crooked nose, and great ass—even in slacks, he can’t hide it.
The clip is only two minutes long. I watch it over and over, memorizing it. It’s not nearly enough material for me to come to a conclusion on whether or not this is my teacher. I want to see more, so I purchase the entire video. My bills still go to my parent’s house. I just hope they don’t decide to go through my credit card statements.
The female actor in the video has large fake boobs, wears too much makeup, and has platform heels so tall she wobbles when she stands. She’s able to take his big cock without even flinching. She looks almost . . . bored? Her eyes are lazy, and she keeps glancing off to the side as if being instructed on what to do. Her mechanical movements and the unnatural, almost robotic, way she moves into the different positions make me think there’s a director off to the side choreographing their coupling like it’s some kind of staged interpretative dance.
Without even taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of being full, she starts to ride him, bouncing with the hollow look of someone lost. Nothing about her expression tells me she’s enjoying this one bit. The moans and dirty-talk are over the top, and so obviously fake I’m embarrassed for them both. Though she has a great body, it’s doing nothing for me. The male doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it much himself, just going through the motions. The only saving grace is that he looks so much like my teacher that I can’t help but get turned on. Watching that giant dick sliding in and out of pink flesh causes an ache between my legs I can’t ignore.