Geraldine
- Reads 1,363
- Votes 63
- Parts 18
MatureOngoing1h 12m
Last published Mon, Sep 1, 2025
Geraldine Clarice Brooks is a 21 year old econ major who is determined to make it as one of the country's best economics.
Dean Cole is a 38 year old econ professor who has a masters in economics and business studies.
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The professor ran his hands down her legs as he left a burning trail of kisses from her ankles to her thigh. His head hovered over her pussy then swiftly moved to the other leg. Now she knew that he indeed was playing a game. His hands moved to her upper body then took off the jacket and the turtle neck.
Geraldine wasn't wearing a bra.
He smiled as her breasts lobbed. Her chest rose and fell under his gaze. She had never felt so seen before. She looked at his face and his eyes were filled with lust and what seemed to be amusement. She couldn't help the small smile that formed. Professor Cole kissed Geraldine again. This kiss was hungry. Hungrier than the ones before and this time his hands were on her breasts.
He massaged the left breast while he played with the nipple of the right breast. His kisses fell to her neck while he switched movement with his hands, alternating with the two actions. Geraldine could feel the pool forming in-between her legs and she felt a little embarrassed although she loved this feeling.
His lips finally met her breasts and Geraldine moaned and the professor smirked against her skin. He sucked her breasts fondly alternating between the two, making sure each got the same attention as the other, then his hands fell to her core. He felt her wetness then smiled and said
"Aren't you eager Ms Brooks"
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He swiped my sweat-soaked hair off my neck, resting his lips against my ear. His fiery breaths blew across my earlobe. My body shuddered once again, craving more of him. "You're not the first woman to think she could seduce me into bed because of who I am, what I write. And you won't be the last." He gave a small chuckle, pulling down my dress, so it covered me. "But," he said in a low growl, "so far...... you're my favorite." Breaths poured from my lips at those words. My heart fluttered inside my pounding chest. His favorite, my brain stuck to his words like glue. Clinging to the small hope we'd continue this somewhere else, more than once. We stayed in that position for a moment before his body heat disappeared from my back. He lit a cigarette in front of me, the flash of the lighter illuminating his flushed, sweat-soaked face. I leaned against the brick wall, finding comfort in the coolness against my heated skin. His eyes met mine again. I didn't think I could move from the spot, but he forced me to when he held up a red, lacy thong in between his fingers. My red lacy thong. Fucking panty thief! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Their worlds collided in a heated, passion-filled hook-up behind a bar, bringing their broken pieces together. And now? Mercy finds herself as C.J. Cole's intern. The very Mr. Cole who wrote the most romantic, erotic books she had ever laid eyes on. How could she manage to keep her panties on around him? Or control herself? Hint: she won't. Mature warning.
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