An hour later, I stood outside his office door. The hallway was empty, the custodial staff starting their evening rounds. I raised my hand to knock, hesitated, then tapped twice.âCome in.â The voice was muffled but authoritative.âYou wanted to see me, Sir?â I whispered.âI believe this is yours,â he said, leaning back. âAfter reading the part where the student is told to get on her knees⊠I was wondering were you planning to follow the script?âI gasped. This wasnât a reprimand, it was something else entirely.âI⊠I wrote it, Sir,â I whispered.âSo you did.â He stood, moving around the desk until he was in front of me. Close enough to smell him, clean, faintly tobacco. He tilted my chin up. âIn your story, Anna doesnât stammer. She doesnât make excuses.âHis hand moved from my chin to the back of my neck, his grip firm and possessive. My knees weakened, a rush of wetness soaking my panties instantly. âYou think I didnât notice you staring every lecture?âI froze, he knew.I looke
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