1: Professor's Cumdump

ELIJAH

Exams were about to take my life.

Mayhap I shouldn't ignore my final structural analysis project for engineering which was due in about three days.

The damn calculations had still refused to balance no matter what I did.

I had spent the whole afternoon hunched over my laptop, red-eyed and frustrated.

My brain felt fried and funky.

And it wasn't until I wanted to take out the trash and instead took out my briefcase did I realize I needed to shut it all off.

Even if it was just for one night.

And it seemed like the only thing that would fix this disorientation was a hard fuck.

That was the primary reason I was pushing through the door of the gay bar.

For a fuck, and to unwind.

The place was loud with people laughing and gyrating on the dance floor.

I plugged in my ear buds to avoid the loud music as I ordered a whiskey at the counter.

The bartender passed it to me quietly after payment and I moved toward the back.

The corridors were my main favourite spot because it was always dark and quiet.

Shadows hid most of the faces that was if anyone was ever there though.

Luckily I never ran into anyone every single time I went there to hide away.

But today, someone was there.

I saw him sitting alone at a small table which was tucked against the wall.

He had broad shoulders and his dark hair was cut a bit too short for my liking.

Sexy though.

He was holding the drink he was sipping in his right hand with steady fingers.

He looked like nothing in the world would ever be able to get him to hurry.

The masculine energy that oozed off him in large waves cloaked me in want.

He had this cold icy aura that spelt out the words "Back off" in an not so nice way.

I walked over anyway.

My pulse quickened with each step.

“Hey,” I greeted.

My feet halted close enough for the smell of his cologne to permeate my nostrils

The rich redolence was something woodsy and sharp that turned me on.

He was more pretty up close.

Even in the dark I could see that his strong jaw was covered in a sexy light stubble.

He glanced up but said nothing, just taking a slow leisurely sip of his drink.

The movement made my mouth water.

He was exactly what I needed on a night such as this, to fuck me carelessly.

I leaned against the wall.

“Long day?”

Silence.

I should have been embarrassed.

I should have shut the fuck up.

But I kept going.

“I’m Elijah."

"I haven’t been here in months."

"The crowd is wild tonight so back here feels better and more private too.”

His dark unreadable eyes watched me keenly without changing expression.

I kept talking.

Not because I wanted to.

But because I needed someone to listen.

I talked about the music and the overpriced liquor in this monopolized gay bar.

I told him about the guy who had spilled beer on his clothes earlier at the door.

I spoke about my school work and how I was helplessly drowning in it.

Anything to keep the air moving.

Finally, he set his glass down.

His eyes flickered to mine and I kept shut, staring at him with raised brows.

“Do you always talk this much to someone you clearly want to fuck?”

The question hit me like a discus disc.

I stared for a while, momentarily taken by surprise at his question.

Then the laughter spilled out of my mouth in a rush, over mastering me.

“I didn’t think you noticed that,” I pointed out with a wide grin. “Nor did I think that you were even interested in that.”

He lifted one eyebrow.

“You could have just said, ‘Let’s fuck.’ That would have been enough.”

I paused.

He was right.

No need for all the extra words.

But the way he had said it earned him another round of laughter from me.

"I guess you're right," I whispered as I lifted my glass of liquor to my lips

The rest of the slightly chilled whiskey was drained from the glass in one go.

The burn felt good as I put down my glass on the table embedded in the corner.

He watched me wordlessly.

I looked straight into his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

His right brow lifted.

“Michael?”

“Michael,” I repeated slowly.

“Yes?”

His voice didn't betray the impatience that was clearly written across his face.

“Wanna fuck?”

He swirled the last bit of liquid in his glass, watching it catch the dim light.

Then he tipped his head back and finished the last of it, mirroring me exactly.

My lips curved at his mime.

“Yes,” he said.

I had no idea of who moved and reached for who first, but our mouths met.

I opened for him, tasting the whiskey on his tongue as he pulled me against him.

The kiss was deep with an urgency and his lips on mine were soft and demanding.

I felt everything all at once—warmth, desire, electricity—in a dangerous way.

My fingers slid into his hair to grip the strands as I moaned in his mouth.

I felt every solid inch of his hard muscular body when he gripped my waist tighter.

He groaned low in his throat.

"You taste so fucking good," he leaned back slightly to whisper against my lips.

"So do you," was my reply.

My voice deepened as his palms started to slip underneath my half opened shirt.

His fingers were rough against my skin.

My breath hitched as he introduced his tongue to the groove of my neck.

Stars shone behind my irises as sensations of different kinds ran down my spine.

My head fell back to allow him more room to assault the spot with kisses.

His tongue was warm and arousing.

"Arghhhh," I moaned.

My skin tingled.

I tugged at the buttons of his own shirt, quite desperate for more contact.

We kissed like starving sluts as our bodies ground against each other in the dark.

Blood rushed down every corner of my wanting body to pool dramatically in my stomach, engorging my prick.

No one walked down this corridor.

It was just us.

His teeth softly sank into my shoulders just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

I ignored it.

It buzzed again.

I didn't mind it.

At least not when Michael's wet tongue was slowly gliding down to my clavicle.

A moan left my lips.

Then it rang, again.

Michael heard it this time.

I tried to keep going with him, but he pulled back just enough to speak to me.

“Take it,” he ordered in a voice that was hoarse and rough with desire.

“But—" I started to say.

He cut me off.

“It might be important.”

The command in his tone made me freeze.

I didn’t want to stop.

But I couldn’t disobey either.

I sighed softly.

I slightly leaned away from him and pulled the vibrating phone out of my pocket.

Grey’s name flashed on the screen.

My friend.

I took the call.

“Elijah?”

His voice was shaking.

“I crashed my motorbike. I’m at the hospital. It’s bad. They want someone here," he announced everything in a breath.

My eyes widened.

“Can you come? Please.”

My stomach twisted.

“I’m on my way. Which hospital?”

He gave the name.

I ended the call.

Michael watched me quietly.

He had overheard every bit of the conversation and already understood.

“I have to go,” I said. “My friend—he had an accident.”

He nodded once.

Then he took out his phone.

He handed it to me.

“Your number.”

I typed it in fast.

He sent a quick text so I had his too.

"Save it," I told him.

He said nothing, staring at me.

Suddenly, he pulled me in for another deep yet almost soul searing kiss.

We were breathless when he pulled back.

“Keep in touch,” he said.

“Yeah,” I answered. “I will.”

We held eye contact for a beat longer.

Then I turned and walked away.

Outside I flagged a taxi.

I slid into the back seat when one stopped and gave the driver the hospital address.

My skin was hot.

My lips were still tingling from the hard kiss Michael had given me.

My body still recalled his hands on my skin and the promise of what could have been.

But Grey needed me now.

I stared out at the passing streetlights and told myself there would be a next time.