Page 12 of Learn Your Limits

Chapter twelve

Emiliano

This is not the sight I imagined I’d be looking at while I have my morning coffee. But fuck, is it a welcome one. I didn’t think my teasing remark would be answered with this.

Cal’s cock is beautiful. Not only in an arousing way, but it’s just so smooth, prettily flushed, and hard for me.

My coffee sits wholly forgotten on the kitchen counter as I watch him thrust into his hand, twist his palm over his shaft while he moans and swears.

It’s almost as if he's trying to amplify the noise just for my ears and my enjoyment.

The moaning of my name is what does me in. I’m not necessarily proud of having my cock out in the middle of making my breakfast. My tip springs from my boxers and smears along the cabinet the second I pull myself out, desperate to make my pace match his.

I’m way too worked up from the last couple of days of talking to him to make this last more than a few minutes. I fist myself, pulling back the foreskin at my tip and exposing myself to the cool air of my home as I increase my already fast pace.

I don’t fucking dare close my eyes and miss a second of his orgasm. It’s all encompassing—his groans and the shaking of his body are only for me at this moment, and I consider myself the luckiest man on Earth.

Imagining the cum coating his lightly-freckled skin is mine and not his own is what sets off my orgasm. He would be wanton and begging me to mark him, I know it.

With that thought, I grip the counter painfully while thrusting my cock into my hand one more time. Letting the image of a ruined Cal drive me through it. I revel in the aftershocks of my peak, milking the last few white drops and letting them pool in my palm.

Fuck, I got so carried away that I didn’t even return the courtesy of filming myself for him. He’ll have to do with a picture. Quickly, I get my phone and snap a photo of my messy cock and the cum decorating my hand.

JustMilo: [attached image]

JustMilo: The best way to start the morning, don’t you think?

Taking a quick moment to clean up, I also check on my hopefully intact breakfast while I wait for Cal’s reply.

CallMeCal: Fuck, that’s hot.

CallMeCal: Wish I was there to help you clean up.

My cock twitches with a newly found energy at his proposal. I imagine him on his knees and taking me into his mouth first thing in the morning, so desperate for me to feed him a mouthful of my cum.

JustMillo: I’ll remind you of your offer when we see each other, Cal.

JustMilo: This was a lovely way to start the day, thank you. Today I will be preoccupied with some last minute preparation for the semester, but I’d be delighted to keep chatting with you. And if you’re urged to repeat a similar performance for me sometime in the day, so be it.

Chastising my erection to calm down, I tuck myself back into my boxers. I was trying to take things a little slower with him, but the eager young man had other ideas. Resisting him wasn’t even a thought in my mind as soon as I heard the wrecked way he said my nickname.

As much as I’d like more of this, I do have a busy itinerary today, my last day to prepare for classes starting tomorrow. I make a note to keep my phone close to me so that I may keep texting Cal. I’m sure I can handle a little distraction.

The lecture hall is empty, making the noises of shuffling and quick keyboard taps echo within the insulated walls of the vast room. In about fifteen minutes, the rows of seats will be filled by my new students for the semester.

I know there are many of my fellow educators who find this week a drag, but there’s something so important to me about setting expectations and getting to know these bright minds.

I’m a firm believer in everyone having an interesting story to tell.

The most grueling part of syllabus week for me is the requirement of going over the university’s bylaws as if they aren’t having them shoved in their faces by every professor, every year, and in every class.

Mind-numbing is what it is.

A few more seconds is all it takes for me to feel completely set for my introductory lecture.

With a little time to spare before students begin filing in, I glance at my phone notifications and see a text from Cal.

I’m touched that he would take the time to send me well wishes when I’m sure it’s a busy morning of preparation for him as well.

CallMeCal: Good luck on your first day. Hopefully your students aren't total heathens.

JustMilo: You too, Cal.

My thumbs hover over my phone for a few seconds as I contemplate my next text.

I’d like to finally meet Cal and share a proper meal with him, but would it be too much to ask for us to meet this week?

I know he still has his reservations, and I should have some of my own as well.

While he’s assured me he’s not my student, he is still a student at Oakhart, and my involvement with him would cross a boundary.

When I type out my text, it’s like I have no control over my hands.

JustMilo: We should have lunch sometime this week.