Teach Me (Extracurricular Activities, #4)

by Neve Wilder

It was a glory hole. A bona fide, true-blue glory hole.

But something like this? Something anonymous and quick? Something that didn’t require any awkward getting-to-know-you conversations or expectations? Something that didn’t require me to even have a name or a past? God, I was into the idea so much more than I expected to be.

EXACTLY why anonymous sex is so much better lmaooo

Truth be told, I hadn’t given much head in my life, couldn’t remember much of it, and never with a condom on, but there was something oddly erotic about the barrier, the way I could feel the heat of his skin through it, the ultra-smooth texture when I leaned forward and swirled my tongue around his tip before closing my mouth over him.

ugh not this pro-condom propaganda

And he gave great service.

HAHA more than you know babes!

But instead, we sat, and he proceeded to get absolutely blitzed on sangria. Again, not necessarily a deal breaker. I understand nerves. But he was just rude. Holier-than-thou with the server. Snippy, short, arrogant.” “This sounds kinda familiar. Did you go on a date with yourself?”

Was telepathic horniness a thing?

My stranger took a step forward, still working his cock, circling his thumb around the crown until a dollop of precum glazed the pad. After a stuttered pause, as if he’d lost his rhythm or hesitated, his thumb appeared through the hole. I bent lower and took it between my lips, tasting the burst of salt on my tongue and barely checking a moan. Why did I find this so fucking hot?

When I stopped wheezing with laughter, I said, “I wouldn’t suck the wrong dick, though. I’d know his dick anywhere.” He put a hand over his heart and batted his lashes. “That’s so romantic.”

Mr. Mystery: No names, no strings, no expectations.

Jesse returned his attention to me as I shuffled toward the kitchen island, where sandwich fixings were spread over the counter like a culinary obstacle course. I needed sustenance. The rest of the house needed Jesus.

I put my phone away after that and lay in my hotel room, sleepless as I stared at the ceiling, my mind circling round and around one of Cameron’s last sentences: Thank you again for linking me up with Paul. We’ve been meeting and he’s really helpful and nice. I tried to pretend those words didn’t make me froth with curiosity over how often they’d been meeting and exactly how damn helpful Paul was being.

When I paused for a breath, sucked it into my lungs in a sobbing gasp, I felt it. Relief, clean and cool, crisp as spring. Salvation, not from above, but in a cramped room that smelled like old rubber and magazines. Baptism by a saline IV.

I felt a pang of regret, a selfish wish that we could stand still in time and let the world turn without us.

He was a landscape of sinew and skin spread out beneath me, the muscles of his broad back flexing with the press of my fingers, his skin silky under my touch as I traced the slope of his spine with my free hand. My heart pounded in rhythm with my own eager arousal as I pulled my fingers free and dipped lower to brush my lips over the curve of his shoulder.

There was something raw and primal about fucking him in the wilderness with nothing more than spit and desire that drove me crazy.

Regardless of the nature of human behavior, choosing you remains the best decision I’ve ever made.

“Ready to get lost?” “With you, Professor? Anytime.”

So as we started forward into the unknown, I knew that even if we didn’t reach the elusive center, we’d already won.