I can't get enough if his mouth. I'm still reeling from how soft it was.
When I saw him earlier running in the field, there was a flush instantly seering through my body. My senses became alert wanting to get closer. When the game went on, I can barely concentrate. My mind was in my dick, ultimately useless. It doesn't help that he was so unfazed and he looked so at home in the field. He just looks so surreal. Oh god, I am so done for. How did it come to this?
I am so pissed at myself and him. Pissed at myself for eating my own words and him for being the way he is. I keep imagining me and him in an alley all the more now that I am lying down just looking at my ceiling. I want to remember how I was and my priorities from 2 weeks ago because right now I can't seem to get myself together. All I am is an angry motherfucker thinking about someone else's dick.
Knock. Knock.
Must be Jag. I opened the door. Surprise, surprise, professor smarty-pants.
"Are you here to continue what we left off professor?"
"What happened to shoving my dick somewhere else huh?"
"That's still the plan since I only care about my dick being shoved into your ass."
"I am tired McQueen. I just came here to give you the notes you left in my office." He handed me his notes. As I was on my way to closing the door, he noticed something by the window. "Stop," he said. Then he went in to look at the whiteboard.
THE WHITEBOARD!! Shit!!!! I hurried to erase all the scribbles Jag wrote.
"Do not erase anything." He is reading it, intently. "Sexual tension huh." Scanning....scanning...."ticket to freedom." Then he went to my mother's side of the board. Then I got distracted. I wasn't panicking because of the board anymore. Outside the window, across the building, in his room, is a woman in undies, roaming around. I am being consumed by something unpleasant, a feeling I am so unfamiliar with.
"Professor?"
He is still reading some scribbles. "Yes?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
He didn't look up, still unfazed."None of your business."
That actually tinged my heart. He is right. It's none of my business. "Does she happen to have a tattoo of a bird on her back?"
He abruptly looked at me, then his room. "Shit."
This is the second time he stormed out of my room.