Page 4 of Lesbian Professor (Sapphic Sweethearts #6)

Noelle

P icking up your waitress is no one’s idea of a smart decision, but I can’t be bothered to care because Polly kisses like a fucking goddess. She slides her tongue over mine, and her hands dance on my face.

My own hands are everywhere: her breasts, her tummy, her ass. I kiss her against the door until I’m wet and aching. I need more. Want more.

I will demand more.

I take a step back, and Polly groans at the loss of my mouth on her skin. Good. She wants this just as much as I do. She’s invested, as I am. I consider myself an incredible lover, but I also demand a lot from my partners. I don’t do pillow princesses. I don’t do half-assed sexual experiences.

No, I want her, I want all of her, and I want her now.

“Take off your tank top,” I say.

“Noelle?”

“Take it off.” I repeat the order just once. Once needs to be enough. Polly looks at me for a moment. Then she hooks her fingers under the hem of her shirt and tugs, pulling it up and off. She tosses it to the side, and I look at her.

She’s wearing a black, lace bra that pushes her breasts up. Her soft tummy is exposed, but her jeans are still on. I don’t know what her pussy looks like. I don’t know if she’s wearing panties.

“Pants,” I say.

This time, I don’t have to repeat the order.

Polly kicks off her shoes and socks, and then unbuttons her jeans. She pushes them off her hips and down. She steps out of her jeans, and then she looks at me again.

“Black bra, black panties,” I say.

“I like to match.”

“You look hot as hell, baby.”

She smiles.

“Did you know you’d be showing these off tonight?” I ask. I stay where I am. The distance between us is minimal – just a few feet – but makes us feel more anxious, edgy. I’m excited at the possibility of touching her. I’m craving her.

I need her.

“No,” she says.

“But you wanted to.”

“Maybe.”

“Nobody wears a gorgeous set of lingerie like that unless they want to show it off,” I say.

“I didn’t expect anything,” Polly says.

“You mean that you didn’t expect me.”

“Right.”

“Well, I’m here.”

“We’re both here,” she says. She bites her lip, and oh, I want to feel those lips on my own breasts, on my pussy.

“Come here,” I say, and she walks over. When Polly reaches me, she places her hands on my hips, and she leans up to kiss me. Of course, I kiss her back. I’m greedy. I’m hungry. I need her just as much as she needs me.

Polly pulls back, reaches for my cheek. She strokes my skin softly, but I grab her wrist. I want more, and I want it now.

“Undress me,” I say.

“What?”

“You ask a lot of questions, baby. Undress me. Stop your talking. Take off my clothes.”

Has she ever had a lover who bossed her around?

Did she like it?

Polly looks flushed and anxious and ready for me, just as I’m ready for her.

“Oh,” she says.

“Now.”

I stand still as she steps forward. She reaches for my blouse. Her hands shake ever-so-slightly as she begins to unbutton my top. One by one, she glides her hands over the buttons and down to my waist. Once my top is unbuttoned, Polly pushes the shirt back and off. The fabric falls to the ground.

“Wow,” she says, looking at me. She bites her lip.

Polly’s breasts are small and pert. They’re cute and sexy. My own tits are bigger, fuller. She starts to reach for them. Then she pulls back, stops.

“Don’t stop,” I say. “Take off my skirt.”

“Can I?” Polly gestures to my breasts, but I shake my head.

“You’re going to obey,” I say. “You’re going to be a good girl.”

Her eyes practically roll back in her head as she starts tugging my skirt down. She lowers herself as she pulls the brown pencil skirt down to my ankles. I step out of the skirt, and she looks up at me from the place she’s kneeling on the floor.

“What now?” Polly asks.

We’re both in our bras and panties. We’re wearing entirely too many clothes. I’ve got heels on still, though, and I hold out one foot. Without a word, she removes my shoe. Then she removes the other one.

“Kiss me, Polly,” I say, and she starts at my feet.

I close my eyes as she kisses up my ankles, up my legs.

She reaches my thighs and kisses up more, more, more.

She moves over my tummy, over my chest, and up to my mouth.

As soon as she’s fully upright, I grab her, tug her into my arms, and kiss her again.

My entire body hurts. I’m aching with need for her.

All of her.

“Bedroom,” I say.

She pulls back, takes my hand, leads me down a narrow hall to a closed door with a picture of a cartoon cat taped to the front.

She turns the knob, opens the door, and guides me into her bedroom.

The space is messy, but comfortable. I spot a dresser with a couple of dying plants on top, a desk covered in books, and a full-size bed that is neatly made.

“Get on the bed,” I say, and she does. Polly moves quickly, perches on the edge. Her feet are flat on the floor, and I move until I’m standing directly in front of her.

“What now?” Polly asks.

I smile.

“What do you think?”

“Sex?”

“Is that what you want, Polly?”

“Yes.”

“Have you had sex with a woman before?”

A flush creeps up her neck. She nods, looks away. I bend over, but don’t squat, and I reach for her chin. I turn her head so she’s looking at me.

“Try again, baby.”

“No,” she says.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

She nods again, and that’s all the confirmation I need. I kiss her, pressing my mouth to hers. I devour her, losing myself in her for just a moment before I pull back.

Then I kneel.

“Noelle?”

“No more talking,” I say. “From here on out, I’m in charge.”

“Oh.”

“The only words I want to hear from your mouth are begging.”

“Oh.”

“Is that how you beg, baby?”

“No.”

“Show me how you beg.”

She’s silent for a moment, which is fine. I press my lips to her left knee, and then I push her thighs apart, opening her. I have a perfect view of her panty-covered pussy. Soon those panties will be gone. Soon nothing will remain between my mouth and her body.

“Please,” she says.

“Oh, that’s a nice try.”

“Please, Noelle.”

“Oh, baby. You can do better than that.”

She hesitates for a moment, and I lean closer to her thigh. I breathe, allowing my breath to warm her skin, and she stills. Yes, she wants this. Her breath hitches. She’s practically panting. Oh, she is so ready for this.

I know Polly probably hasn’t been with a woman like me before, but I mean what I said.

She’s ready.

“Noelle, please kiss me.”

“Oh, like this?” I press a chaste kiss to her thigh.

“No, please. My pussy.”

“Oh, like this?”

I press my lips to the top of her panties, just at the waistband.

“No,” she says.

And the thing is, I can see her. I can see how damp her panties are.

I can see how wet and needy she is. Her pussy is aching, and I want to be the one to offer relief to her.

Still, I need her to meet me in the middle here.

She has to beg for this or she’s not going to get it.

She has to give me what I need so I can give her what she craves.

“You’ll have to be specific, Polly.”

“I want you to lick my pussy,” she says, blurting out the words.

“Oh, why didn’t you just say so?”

I grab the band of her panties with my teeth, and I tug.

I pull the panties down. My lips gently brush her bare pussy as I pull the underwear down and off, and then I move back up.

I settle between her legs, push them apart, and press my lips to her soft skin.

As soon as my mouth touches her pussy, I know she’s going to be done.

“Oh, fuck.”

“That’s not begging, but I’ll allow it.”

“Please,” she says. “Please don’t stop.”

And I won’t. I don’t plan on stopping until she comes all over my mouth, and then maybe my face, and then perhaps my hand. Polly and I have all night. We don’t have anywhere to be, so we can just play together.

I swipe my tongue over her. At first, Polly hesitates. Her body is tense, tight, rigid. Soon, though, within seconds, she relaxes and lets me just take care of her. She lets me worship her body. She lets me devour her.

I pride myself on being a wonderful caretaker when it comes to my lovers. This moment with Polly is no exception. She groans, grabs my hair, tries to guide me. I laugh.

“That’s my good girl,” I say. “Show me what you want, baby.”

And she does.

“Please, she says.”

“Again with the begging. You can do so much better.” I want to hear her actually get into it. What I want is for her to tell me I’m the best fucking lay she’s ever had. I want her to beg me to stop and keep going at the same time.

“I just want to come for you,” she says. “Please don’t stop licking my pussy, Noelle. Fuck. It feels so damn good to have your mouth against my lips. I can’t...I can’t...”

“Aw, are you about to come, sweetie?” I pull away, and I replace my mouth with my fingers. Slowly, I tease my finger up and down her slit before I dip it inside of her. She bucks, groaning at the intrusion.

“I’m close,” she says.

“Then beg me to come.”

“I don’t know how.”

“Oh, does that mean you’re done playing?” I pull my hand away.

“No, please!” Polly cries out. “Please don’t stop touching me until I’m coming all over your face. Please. Please, please. I need to come. I need it so fucking bad.”

“There we go.” I smile. “That wasn’t so damn hard, was it?”

She’s doing a good job, and good girls are rewarded. In my world, this means orgasms, so I move closer, and I lick her pussy until her clit starts to pulse, until her body starts to thrum with pleasure, until she’s screaming my name and shoving my head even deeper into her.

And then I keep going.