Her Dirty Professor Series (21+)

Book8-2



Christy merely strokes my arm while shooting me a sympathetic look.

“No, it’s fine Bart,” she says. “I know that paralysis is common when trouble’s on the horizon, especially when it’s financial. Did you know that there are people who pretend to go to their jobs every morning, even though they’ve been let go? Evidently, they keep the charade going for years because they don’t want their friends and family to know. You’ve done nothing like that. You got us a place to stay, and that’s what’s important.”

I swallow hard, so grateful for the understanding of this beautiful woman.

“Thank you, honey,” I growl around the lump. “Again, you don’t deserve this. Your mother would kill me if she knew that we’ve been reduced to these circumstances.”

Christy reaches for my hands then, slipping her small ones into my own. We stand facing each other with our hands linked, and she’s a vision to behold with her curly brown hair, delicate features, and pouty lips.

“No, it’s fine Bart,” she murmurs. “It’s totally okay. My mom knows that you care about me, and that you take care of me. Everyone goes through tough stretches in life, and I wouldn’t even say that this is especially tough. After all, we have each other, right? That’s what matters.”

My heart soars as gratitude runs through my veins because this woman is everything I’ve ever wanted. She’s gorgeous, kind, empathetic, and more generous than I deserve.

“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart,” I manage in a choked voice. “I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Christy smiles before pulling her hands from mine. “And of course, I’ll sleep on the couch in the living room. You deserve to have the master bedroom.”

I shake my head quickly.

“Definitely not, sweetheart. I’m not letting you get a crick in your back from that shitty sofa that looks about a million years old. You sleep in the bedroom, and I’ll take the couch.”

Christy giggles then, her brown eyes dancing.

“But Bart, you’re what? Six two? Six three?”

“Six four,” I say in an ominous voice.

“Exactly,” she says triumphantly. “There’s no way you could fit on that couch. That thing’s tiny because it was specially designed for trailer living. Better let me sleep there.”

“Hell no, sweetheart,” I rasp. “You’ve got work in the mornings, while I’ll be on my laptop, looking for jobs. You’ve got to face co-workers, your boss, and countless customers at the store, whereas I’ll be on my lonesome here with my laptop for company. You take the bed.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

But Christy won’t hear of it.

“No, that’s ludicrous, Bart,” she giggles. “It’s fine. How about this? We’ll share the bed.”

I stare at her, swallowing hard.

“Come again?”

“You heard me,” she teases. “It’s a queen, so it’s big enough for both of us. Unless you’re a kicker or a thrasher,” she adds in a dark voice. “Then we definitely shouldn’t sleep together.”

But I merely continue to stare.

“You want to share the queen size with me?”

She nods, waving a hand at me.

“Oh, you’re so old fashioned, Bart, like a knight protecting his lady’s virtue. But I know I don’t need to be protected, not when I’m with you. It’s fine,” she cajoles. “Besides, you’re family! I’m safe sharing a bed with you.”

I swallow even as my body hardens because therein lies the problem. Yes, we are family, but at the same time, I’m beyond attracted to the beautiful brat. I have been for a while now, and to my horror, my cock begins to stiffen imagining her sassy curves mere inches away at night. The gentle rise and fall of her big bosom as she breathes. Her sweet thighs, meaty and white, covered by only the tiniest of sleep shorts. The slickness of her pussy, the folds soft and wet as I run my tongue through them …

Fuck! What am I doing? I can’t be having these thoughts. Yet, I know the truth, which is that Christy has everything to fear from me … and even worse, I can feel my control slipping.

Bart

I can’t believe this is my life. Natch. I can believe this is my life and yet there’s a dreamlike quality to it all because Christy and I live in close quarters now, and yet it hasn’t been awkward at all.

Everything works like clockwork, actually. In the mornings, Christy rises from the bed with a waggle of her big behind and a gentle smile at my huge form. She makes breakfast for both of us before leaving for work, which gets me agitated because I’ve never liked her boss, John Elliston. But he pays a decent wage at Tootsie’s, and that money supports us right now, so I guess I should be grateful.

Still, I hate the fact that my gorgeous stepdaughter is within spitting distance of John all day. That fucker’s probably ogling her and making all sorts of rude comments, but I know the brat’s more than capable of handling him.

Yet there’s no sense in getting steamed under the collar because what I need to do is to find a job so that I can get us out of this shithole, and Christy out of her craptastic job. As a result, I attack my employment search ferociously every morning. I write personalized cover letters, and I’ve polished my resume until it’s practically shining. But despite sending out over two hundred inquiries, I have yet to hear back. It’s pretty fucking disappointing. You’d think some of these places would at least be professional and send a rejection letter, but instead, silence reigns supreme. It’s as if I’ve shot my applications into outer space, and they’ve been consumed by the void.

But still, I continue. After all, what choice do I have? I want to provide for my beautiful stepdaughter, and finding a new job is the first step. So I buckle down and continue to send out resumes, even if it kills me on the inside.

But by the time my stepdaughter gets back from work in the evenings, my mood has lifted. I generally put away my laptop at around 4 p. m. or so and start cooking. Yes, I’m that kind of guy. I’m not afraid that domestic chores make me effeminate or weak. If anything, I like to eat good food and the food that comes from my stove is not only healthy, but tastes great too. As a result, I’m somewhat of a gourmet chef.

Besides, I love seeing Christy’s face when she steps inside and gets a whiff of the meal on the stove. Today was no exception. The door opened, and then the beautiful brunette pranced inside with her pretty features alight and brown curls bouncing.

“Let me guess lasagna?” she asks while lifting her dainty nose for a sniff at the air.

“You got it,” I growl, prepping some veggies on the minuscule counter. “Go ahead and shower, honey. Everything will be ready by the time you get out, including some garlic bread that I just threw in the oven.”

“Oooh, garlic bread!” she squeals, clapping her hands like an excited little girl. “My fave! This is going to be so good.”

I grin lopsidedly at her.

“It will. Now git,” I command, nodding my chin at the bathroom.

With that, Christy rushes off to the bathroom, grabbing her towel and bathrobe from a hook on the wall. Then, the door shuts and I’m left to my vegetables once again. Goddamn, the air’s practically vibrating with promise because she’s home. She turns everything inside out, and what had been a bad day has suddenly become good.

But I turn back to my cutting board.

Stop behaving like a perv, I scold myself. You’re the brat’s stepfather. What would Sharon think if she knew?

Well, your wife’s dead, the devil on my shoulder whispers in my ear. So it’s not an issue because Sharon will never find out.

I stop, and press my fingers to my temples while closing my eyes. I can’t keep going on like this, with the devil and the angel having constant debates. But the problem is that Christy is so tempting, nubile, and young that whenever she’s around, I’m basically semi-hard in my pants. Fuck.

I shove the vegetables away and take a deep breath. My head’s pounding and the blood is rushing through my veins. I need to step out for some fresh air to re-set my brain because otherwise, this meal is going to be a disaster.

With a grunt, I pull my coat off the hook on the wall with every intention of vacating. But then my feet stop in their tracks because somehow, the bathroom door has swung open slightly. Christy must not have latched it fully shut, and now, I can see through a crack in the door. The shower’s right there, the air steamy and hot.

Oh shit shit shit. Turn away! the angel on my shoulder entreats. This isn’t for you!

But I can’t turn because the sight before me is unstoppably erotic. Christy’s totally nude as the water splashes over her curvy form. She’s smiling as she rinses suds from her hair, her arms raised so that I have a perfect view of those huge tits. Oh shit, have they gotten bigger? I could swear that she has Double D’s, but at the moment, they look like they’re F’s or even H’s.

I will my feet to move, but again, the urge to watch reigns supreme. Instead, I stare, totally immobilized, as Christy finishes rinsing her hair, and then reaches for a razor. It’s a pink thing, one of those Lady Gillettes, and she smiles naughtily before squirting some gel into her palm. Then she raises one leg, bracing her foot against the clear glass wall of the stall, and gently rubs her fingers through her soft pussy folds.

Holy fuck! Am I really seeing what I’m seeing? But sure enough, it’s happening. Christy gently pulls her cunt apart, showing me her bulging clit and tiny hole, before reaching down with the razor and gently scraping up one lip of her labia. The skin comes away fresh, pink, and totally bare like a baby. Oh shit shit shit!

But Christy has no idea that I’m watching, and merely continues to shave her pussy while humming innocently to herself. She smiles softly, lifting her leg even higher as she reaches down and gently glides the razor over the other side of her pussy, holding the skin tight to get a close shave. The gorgeous teenager is beautifully pink, gleaming, and wet as the water pounds over those generous curves, and I have half a mind to barge into the bathroom and to lick her pussy before sucking hard on that stiff clit.

But then, Chrissy does something so rancid that I can hardly believe that this is my innocent teen stepdaughter. She turns around so that her back’s to me, showing off that giant bubble butt and wide hips. Then she bends forward so that her cheeks naturally part a bit, revealing her tight asshole. With a tiny giggle, the girl smooths some cream over that dark pucker before reaching back with the razor and shaving that part of herself as well.

By now, I can’t contain myself. My cock’s out, and my hand’s like a machine on the enormous rod. The veins of my shaft are pulsing in a heavy drumbeat and I let out a silent groan as I watch Christy do a couple swipes over her asshole, getting it totally clean. Butwhyis she shaving herself there? Does she have a boyfriend that I don’t know of? Is she seeing someone, maybe even John Elliston? Fuck!

Yet I don’t stop beating off as Christy finishes her ablutions. I watch as she glides the razor over her underarms as well, and then gently circles her nipples with her fingers. As if she knows I’m watching, she lifts each breast to her mouth for a quick kiss on each nipple, and then drops her ta-tas, letting them bounce tantalizingly. It’s only when she turns off the water that I jump into motion.

Fuck! I’m about to come, and within seconds, I’ve dashed out of the trailer and practically run to the woods bordering the trailer park. Then, I disappear into the trees and finish beating off to the image of my gorgeous stepdaughter shaving her most private parts. My climax is a beast. I see those ivory curves in my mind’s eye once again: the pendulous breasts, narrow waist, and most of all, her sweet slick pussy and tiny asshole. Oh fuck, I’d give anything to taste them, and I shout as massive spurts of semen erupt from my pole, spattering all over the dirt. Roar after roar come from my throat as I dump a huge load into the woods, uncaring if my neighbors overhear.

But finally, my climax subsides and I stand there, breathless among the trees. What the fuck just happened? Did I just spy on the naughty brat as she took a shower? Even worse, did I just get off on it? But still, I want to know why Christy was shaving herself. After all, if there’s another man in the picture, then I’ve got to put a stop to it immediately.


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