Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

With that, the curvy girl seals her words with another devastating kiss, and this time, it’s my head that’s spinning out of control with wonder, elation, and a hundred things that I’m still trying to process. Yet, I’m looking forward to my life with the sensuous brat because she’s the epitome of a woman, and I look forward to embarking on a new chapter together.

Christy

It’s been a week since Bart took my cherries, and I have to say that I’m a changed woman. I don’t know if there’s anything different about me on the outside, but I walk funny and my pussy constantly aches. Plus, my ass is ravaged and sometimes makes me wince with pain. Daddy is so big that I swear, even my digestive system has been put through the ringer because of that giant cock in my most sensitive space.

But all that’s by the by because I wouldn’t change a thing about our relationship. I’ve wanted Bart for so long, and it’s hard to believe that the man of the house wants me just as much! I have to pinch myself sometimes, just as a reminder that this isn’t a dream this is real life. The handsome man belongs to me, just as I belong to him.

But today, I’m back at the till at Tootsie’s. It’s a five and dime on the main drag of Hartsville. It’s outdated and sells ridiculous items like fuzzy dice, tobacco, and Juul pods, although there are necessities like milk and eggs in the back. But still, it’s a throwaway job until Daddy finds something better. I know that Bart’s been sending out a lot of resumes, and it’s only a matter of time before he gets a bite.

Humming to myself, I stare off into space dreamily while restocking some of the shelves. Hmm, do the Triscuits go here or here? I suppose it doesn’t matter because we don’t sell too many of these.

But then, the bells over the front door dingle, and my heart sinks because it’s none other than John Elliston himself. Yes, it’s Jet’s dad. He’s good-looking enough, with a tall, broad figure and honey-kissed hair. But the planes of his face are chiseled and stiff, and those grey eyes always seem dead inside. Maybe I’m just speculating, but this guy didn’t get to be a successful businessman without running over a couple people in the process.

Even worse, Johnlooksat me in a way that I don’t appreciate. His eyes tend to roam all over my curves, giving me the chills, and the older man has a reputation as a lech, which I have to say is true. The older man often stops by during my shifts to “check in” or “to see what’s going on.” I don’t know why, either. It’s not like the cash register is hard to figure out, and usually I’m not doing much.

I smile wanly from my place on the floor as John saunters into the store. He leans against the front counter casually, before shooting me a knowing look.

“I like you on your knees, Christy,” he smirks.

Immediately, I scramble up, dusting myself off.

“I was just re-stocking the Triscuits,” I mumble. “Some new inventory arrived.”

He nods, those grey eyes taking everything in.

“Good, good,” he drawls. “You’re an efficient worker. As the boss, I appreciate that in my employees.”

I smile wanly. Oh god, it looks like John’s taken some care with his appearance today. His hair is meticulously brushed back and styled in careful waves, and he’s wearing a brown leather jacket, like he’s an aviator. His shoes are scuff-free and shiny, and my heart sinks. Did he wear this to impress me? Oh god, I hope not. I merely smile again, trying to look as if nothing’s wrong.

“Um, thanks. So is there something I can help you with, Mr. Elliston?” I ask, crossing my hands in front of me.

He pauses for a moment, those grey eyes speculative.

“Well, yes, in fact there is,” he says. “Jet tells me that you’re living with your stepfather in a trailer on the edge of town.”

I frown. Holy shit, Jet shares the details of his dates with his dad? But I manage an unconcerned smile.

“Yes, that’s right. Bart and I moved recently because he lost his job, but he’ll find a new one soon enough.”

John Elliston nods, his expression thoughtful.

“And you have everything you need?”

I begin to smile, but then catch myself. There’s no way this guy is motivated by kindness or empathy because John Elliston isn’t built that way. If anything, this is someone who stomps on the weak in order to elevate himself.

“I’m fine,” I say in a polite tone. “We’re fine. We’re getting by on my salary here, so I’m grateful for the job. Thanks, Mr. Elliston.”

John merely chuckles, his gray gaze assessing.

“Yes, but you could use a little help, right?”

I pause for a moment. Of course we could. The lights in the trailer flicker a bit because the wiring is bad. Plus, we’ve been eating a steady diet of boxed mac n’ cheese, canned chili, and stale bread that I buy from Tootsie’s whenever I get my paycheck, using my employee discount of course. But for some reason, I don’t want John Elliston to know. I don’t want this man’s pity, and really, I’d like to avoid him if at all possible.

But how do you avoid the big boss? As a result, I merely smile again.

“We’re fine,” I announce in a confident tone. “Yes, times are tough, but Bart and I will make it.”

John Elliston puts a sorrowful look on his face while shaking his head.

“That’s not the way it should be though. Young women shouldn’t be supporting their fathers at home, because it’s supposed to be the other way around. Heshould be supportingyou.”

I smile, nodding my head as if I understand.

“Yes, but this is just a temporary thing. A blip on the radar. We’ll get past it in no time.”

John nods, still with a sorrowful expression on his face. To be honest, it grates on me. Who is this man to judge me and my family? As far as I know, John inherited most of his riches, so really, his business empire was staked by generational wealth.

But it does no good to get into a fight with your boss, so I merely smile again.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Elliston? Otherwise, I’m going to restock the ice cream freezer.”Belongs © to NôvelDrama.Org.

I’m about to skip away without waiting for an answer, but my boss holds up one broad palm.

“Actually there is,” he rumbles, that grey gaze devious. “I have a proposal for you, Christy.”

My heart sinks because this can’t be good. I don’t want to hear what it is, but I make myself smile and turn, nodding.

“A proposal? Sure, what is it? I’m all ears.”

John clears his throat, like he’s getting ready to make a big announcement, and then smiles.

“Well, I know your family needs money, and that’s something that I have plenty of. I thought … well, ah, I’d give you some money.”

I stare at him.

“You’d give me money? For just being me?”

Of course, the disgusting man shakes his head immediately.

“No, not exactly. I’d like to get to know you a little better, Christy. Your body, in particular. In fact, I’ll double your salary if you let me enjoy your curves.”

I stare at him, all the energy draining from my limbs. Is this asshole serious? Does he want me to have sex with him in exchange for a higher hourly rate?

“No can do,” I say in a stiff voice. “Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, I’m a virgin,” I lie through my teeth. “I promised my mother before she died that I’d save myself for my husband, so I can’t. Sorry, Mr. Elliston.”

But the older man isn’t put off at all. In fact, he taps his fingers together like he’s Scrooge counting his cash.

“Well, there are things we can do that don’t involve taking your innocence,” he says in a smarmy voice. “Plenty of things, in fact. I can teach you.”

I shake my head as disgust runs down my spine. Having this man’s hands on me is the least sexy thing I can think of, and in fact, the very image makes me nauseous. I just went on a date with his son the other night too! Seriously, the Elliston men are too much.

But I manage another smile.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Mr. Elliston, although of course, I appreciate the offer. Now, I’ll just head back to grab that ice cream-”

The older man stops me then, his gray eyes flinty.

“No need,” he says in a soft voice. “If I can’t train my employees, then you know what that means, Christy: you’re no longer an employee.”

I turn to stare at him, my jaw on the ground.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I whisper.

John merely nods his chestnut head.

“Yeah. I need my workers to be flexible, and that means potentially taking on tasks that aren’t a part of their so-called responsibilities,” he says in a silky tone. “You know, going beyond the scope of a job. Being a self-starter. Contributing to the team.”