12 Days: A Dark Reverse Harem Christmas Romance

by Dark Angel

  Her head falls back, her eyes rolling back as she gives herself to my touch. Emmaline’s hands grip the edge of my desk, holding on for dear life like she might fall off.

  Not a chance, princess.

  “C-can I hold your face while you do that?” Emmaline asks breathlessly.

  No way anyone has ever eaten her pussy before. What a damn shame, as this is the nectar of the fucking gods down here. Her pussy is so goddamn delicious, and soft, I think I’d kill to taste it for another second.

  But I don’t have to because Emmaline wants me down there. She has no idea just what she’s in for right now, either. “Yeah, you can touch me, Emmaline,” I say, the words harder to say than I realize. Her sweet innocence is vicious against my experience … when I eat a girl’s pussy, it's nothing like this. She’s into it, and she’s driving her hands into my hair and making the whole circus array of noises when I make her cum. But sweet Emmaline wants to know if she can touch me. She has no idea just how deep she’s already penetrated my being. How much I need her.

  Her hand touches my face almost tentatively, worshipfully, before she puts her hands in my hair. Emmaline is so gentle, so soft, so giving, it fucking undoes me.

  “Your pussy tastes so good,” I hum against her skin.

  I think maybe this will freak her out, make her shy.

  No such thing. Emmaline keeps surprising me, and it makes me crave her more.

  “Your tongue makes me feel things I’ve never felt before,” she says, breathing heavy. I watch her breasts rise and fall and I can’t breathe for a second.

  “Wait till you cum,” I say with a smirk.

  “I don’t want to wait. When I masturbate thinking about you, I cum so much I think I need to get an IV for dehydration,” Emmaline admits.

  Fuck, it takes everything in me to not fuck this girl right now.

  “Well then I guess I have your wildest fantasies to live up to,” I say. I hear how thick my voice is, dark and deep and betraying every ounce of lust that I have for her. “I could lick your pussy all day, though we both have classes in twenty minutes,” I tell her. I dip back into her pussy.

  I see that look of confusion on her face. Yes, I know your schedule. I don’t even want to hide my stalker tendencies right now. I need everything out on the table with her. Emmaline makes me want to tell her all my deep dark secrets. If I poured my truths into her, I don't think she’d spit them out. I crave the way Emmaline seems to revere and worship me, and above all, seems to truly understand me.

  If she’s bothered, I can’t tell. Mostly because her face contorts in pleasure, her little hands holding onto me but letting me take the reins on how and where I lick her pussy.

  I lick every inch of that perfect pussy. I bring my fingers up to her clit and I work little circles, feeling her thighs shiver around me with every movement. I grip her thigh with my hand, just needing to touch her, before I put my hand up under her to cup her ass and pull her against me. I devour her pussy, working her until she’s just on the edge. I don’t want to tease her though, right now I only aim to please her. When she gets close, I slide two fingers into her tight pussy and stroke her, deep and slow, so that the orgasm cascades through her body like she’s rafting through rapids. I bring my mouth to her clit and worship it. I erase her every thought with pleasure from my mouth, my fingers.

  Her hands cup my face, and Emmaline is so tender, so sweet. I wish we didn’t both have classes to go to.

  “Fuck, Ethan, I’m cumming so hard,” she whimpers. “Kiss me, she says, and she holds my face, trying to pull me up.

  I rise and press my lips to hers, grinding my painfully hard cock against her trembling wet pussy.

  Just as our lips connect, the door opens. I pull away from Emmaline and see that the person who walked in has folders in front of their face. I yank Emmaline off the desk and grab some papers and walk toward them, and take care of what they were asking for before heading back. Emmaline still looks like she’s seeing little cartoon animals around her, and it gives me pause that in this moment she’s so naive that she doesn’t think to hide what we were doing. Sure, I’m flattered that she came so hard that she doesn’t have any senses, but it really worries me that we could be so indiscrete and she’s not more worried. I know that plenty of other students try to fuck me and they would probably be sneaky…but I don’t want them, all lust and no…spark.

  There’s a spark between Emmaline and I that I want to explore.

  “Don’t want to be late for Calculus II, and I’ve a full lecture hall,” I say, pulling up her shirt and yanking her breast out of her bra. Closing my mouth over the nipple, I swirl my tongue over her and slide my fingers back into her pussy.

  Fuck, what am I doing?

  If I don't want to get caught, maybe I need to worry more about what I’m up to. I slide my fingers into my mouth, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. I change into different trousers, the same style so not even the wandering syllabus seeker should know what’s transpired, and I head toward the door. Emmaline fixes her own clothes and stumbles toward the door.

  If I could eat her pussy that she came hard enough to walk like that, I can’t imagine what truly letting loose on her could be like. The idea makes me fucking weak for a moment. I want to taste every inch of that girl.

  “Thank you, Ethan,” Emmaline turns to say. “Reality is sweeter than fantasy,” she says as she walks out the door.

  Fuck, that girl could wrap me all around her and I’d never see the sky again. I’d never give a fuck. She’s too damn sexy; I want to watch her leave. I’m holding my lecture notes in front of me like I’m a college student, trying to hide my throbbing erection. I want this load deep inside Emmaline’s pussy but we both have class.

  And if I had some damn sense, I’d stop myself from starting something I shouldn’t be doing. Fuck, I don’t have any sense or control with her. And I goddamn like it.

  Emmaline

  My brain and my body don’t quite recover from the jilt of not having Ethan’s mouth, Ethan’s hands, all over me like they were in his office. This is the part where reason and common sense are supposed to interfere with my insanity, but, like, I’m just in a daze today. The memory of his touch ghosts over my body, haunting me to the point where I’m possessed with thoughts only of his touch and the pleasure it brings.

  No man (or woman for that matter) has ever put their mouth on my breasts, much less my pussy, and that sensation has me amazed that my legs can even get me to my next class.

  I remember how Ethan clearly knew about my next class coming up. Sure, he says everything in that self-assured voice, but Ethan knew I had a class soon, it wasn’t just bravado.

  Judging by how hard I came and that gut instinct I have about him, there’s no way that man bluffs. He doesn’t have to.

  I know having an affair with Ethan is wrong. I’ve been ignoring that fact as hard as I can and I’m shocked by how glazed over the idea still is in my brain. This is against university rules! I mean, I’m the kind of girl who would normally go into cardiac arrest at breaking the rules. Like, I used to be a good girl…but now I know how damn fun being a bad girl is. That’s so childish of me, like I needed to screw my head on right after the idiotic stupor I left myself in when I was in Ethan’s office ... and I need to think about the real consequences of my action. Any minute now the war my common sense is losing has to change tides, right?

  Now I know that Delia and I have to talk. Like there’s just no way that I can keep this all inside. I have to talk to someone I can trust about this. My head won’t stay level and I need advice. Delia’s a jokester but after she gets over the shock of me breaking bad, then she’s sure to offer up some salient advice.

  I snap the lid on my Zebra midliners and find that when I look over my page of pastel highlights, I’ve actually done a good job on reviewing my Calculus II notes. I can’t put the ability to pass the class I worked so hard to get into, into a ‘plus’ column for screwing around with my teacher though
.

  So what if I’m keeping pace with in-class lectures?

  How on earth can I think that coming onto Ethan was okay? I mean, he was so ready to wrap his arms around me and bury his face between my thighs.

  The painful thought that he must do this with lots of students does occur to me, but even if that’s true, he did only have eyes for me in class.

  God, that probably makes me the dumbest girl in the world.

  I whip out my phone. “Siri,” I groan to the phone even though I’m holding down the home button. Habit. I’m a stubborn, methodical person who does things the way they always do.

  Well, until now!

  “Text Delia,” I tell my phone.

  “What would you to say to Delia?” my phone asks.

  “Meet me at my dorm, or yours. Girl talk, stat,” I say and release my home button. Siri of course doesn’t pick up what I’m saying because I’m frustrated and that would've been too easy. I swipe her away and text Delia.

  She messages back right away that she’s going to meet me in five. Guess she’s out of class already. Goodness, maybe it's good that Ethan seems to know my schedule, because I’m already forgetting Delia’s and maybe mine is next!

  My brain feels like it is stuffed full of clouds. Or cotton candy.

  Whatever they stuff your brains with when you become obsessed with your professor. It ain’t more brains, or sense…wow, I can’t even think of a smart thing to say now!

  I shove my hands in pockets, walking quickly and avoiding people until I get to my room.

  I don’t feel guilty or shameful about what I did, and that’s kind of the problem. Like, I want to be a rule following kind of girl, like I always have been.

  But I also can’t imagine not giving my virginity to Ethan. I want him inside me — not just his fingers or his tongue. I’m more focused on that than anything. That’s going to ruin my sanity and my GPA!

  Delia’s waiting at the door — when my roommate is back, she doesn’t just barge in. Lindsay is cool, but Lindsay isn’t her best friend. If Lindsay is in the room, then Delia and I can go for coffee. This is not the kind of conversation that I can do with company. What I find really strange is that I don’t seem to feel weird planning to discuss this with Delia. I mean, an affair with my teacher should be something I want to keep top secret, and she’s definitely the only person that I’m willing to tell, but I also don’t like keeping the secret.

  And something that I probably should've thought about sooner — my mother — creeps into mine. The next time she calls me will probably be tomorrow, and that’s so not a conversation I could have with her. She can sniff anything out over the phone. We’re close. And I don’t normally hide things from her.

  “Are you okay?” Delia says quietly when she sees me.

  I appreciate her hushed tone. When I look at her, a big, stupid grin spreads over my face! “Yes, it isn’t bad. Well, it kind of is. But, like, if Lindsay is in the room we’ve got to go so like—“

  “Slow down, Em, you’re gonna hyperventilate or something. Ya sound a little crazy. Wait,” Delia says and her eyes get so wide it's like they doubled. “Girl, did you meet a guy?”

  “Yeah, and not just online or in class…” I say, crooking my head to the side as I open the door. Lindsay left a note on the board on the door, on the inside. ‘Library till 3, promise to be quiet.’

  “Yay, privacy, now tell me why you’re talking in riddles,” Delia says, her eyes getting a mad glint in them that actually makes me giggle.

  “I’m coming to you because I need advice, Delia, I did something crazy…with Ethan,” I say, and I stop to watch her face.

  The light of recognition on her face mixes with confusion. “Wait, you bagged the hot teacher? Giiiiiiiiiirl!”

  “Well, he … he fingered me in his office today, and went down on me,” I just spill the beans like that.

  Delia’s face is priceless. “Goddamn girl he ate your pussy in his damn OFFICE!” she practically shouts the last part. “Shit, sorry, damn, oh my God,” Delia says. Her face is confused but she’s grinning. “Damn, I though I was the bad one. Good job girl. Good damn job. So did you see his cock? Is it huge, God I bet it's huge…”

  Delia stops and looks at me.

  I don’t know what the look on my face says, but my head is spinning. “I can’t stop thinking about him. I want to sleep with him so damn bad. I know it's against the university rules, but oh my God!” I make a frustrated sound. “What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t focus on anything!”

  “And you tried masturbating?” Delia says, her voice kind. She’s trying to help. She’s not making this a joke.

  God, I love her and I don’t know what I’d do without her.

  “That’s why I overslept and missed coffee the other day…I think that just leads to more obsession,” I admit.

  Delia’s eyes widen and she cocks her head to the side. “Well, you should just fuck him and get it out of your system. I mean, you’ve never had sex before, and that’ probably making it all that more dramatic in your head. You’ll be able to focus when you drain the oves, or whatever, girl. You have to worry about other stuff!” Delia pats my back. “We all go a little cock crazy from time to time. Get it out of your system, tell me all about it, you’ll be good.” Delia laughs. “Girl, it's a buyer’s market for you right now. You’re probably, like, the hottest you’ll ever be, and you can bag that fine teacher no problem…I say go for it. And tell me everything.”

  I laugh, too, and I feel so much better. I’ve been with Delia through breakups and relationship trauma. She’s been around the block enough to give me advice, and not only does what she’s saying make sense, it's something I want to anyway.

  We all love advice that tells us what we want to hear. In fact, sometimes that’s all we hear…

  “But, wait, girl, seriously,” Delia says. “How the hell did this happen?”

  “I was jogging and I ran into Ethan — literally, ran into his perfect damn body,” I say, my eyes rolling back in my head remembering how he felt. “And these guys were saying gross shit to me. One tried to attack me, and I ran into Ethan. I…I think Ethan beat the shit out of him, honestly.”

  I look at Delia. She’s impressed. “Girl, good on him. Lucky he was there, and badass that he knocked the shit out of that asshole. I get so sick of that shit.”

  “Yeah, me too. And…Delia, fuck,” I groan out. “When I touch him I lose all my sense.”

  Delia pats my shoulder. “That’s because you got it bad. I’ve been there.” Delia shoots me a smile and I return it.

  I feel much better having talked this out, and I want to just take her advice and try and get Ethan out of my system, but I also don’t know if that’s wise. At least I feel ready to take action — whatever that action may be, rather than wallowing.

  I hug Delia. “Thanks so much. I really needed this.”

  She kisses me on the forehead. “Of course, girl. We look out for each other.”

  And Delia is so right. I can always count on her. Makes me feel bad about masturbating my way out of one of our coffee dates, but I bore no ill will when Delia made out with a boyfriend too long and missed one before. Shit happens.

  You gotta do what you gotta do, right?

  Emmaline

  “You’re very fortunate, Miss Travers, to be in Dr. Wesley’s section,” Mrs. Simone repeats for, perhaps, the third time since I came to see her. The registrar is annoyed that I’m ungrateful.

  What am I supposed to say? Sorry, I can’t be in this class because either I need to get away from him because I want to bang him, or I need to get out of his class so I can bang him? While both seem like totally valid reasons, I don’t think that I’m going to be able to pull one of those out for Mrs. Simone.

  “Why would you want to change out of a class with a professor that’s foremost in his field, in your major?” Mrs. Simone gives me her best stern look.

  Normally I’d feel the need to stick around for more
chastisement; normally, I’d be able to simply tell the truth.

  Today?

  Today I have no fucking patience for this.

  “Why would I expect you to simply tell me there are no other sections available when you could purport to be allowed in my business instead?” I barely recognize myself when those words come out of my mouth, holy shit. I don’t know if I should be horrified or proud, but my body is walking me out of the registration office anyway so that’s a problem for another day.

  Because today’s problem is figuring out what the hell I should do.

  I have to go back to class, and that’s the option I was trying to avoid. As it is, I don't want to be late, so I pick up my pace. My nonathletic sneakers have taken a real beating, but I’m grateful for their worn soles because my flats are in terrible shape right now. Even still, the pavement is harsher than normal as I hightail to Ethan’s class.

  I sit in the already crowded lecture hall and let myself look. I mean, really look and drink Ethan in. The stadium seating means that he’s on a stage for me, like this, and I can see head to toe what a formidable, delectable man he really is. Fuck, a girl could lose her GPA, her mind, her scholarships over a man like this…and this girl might be me.

  Today’s lecture begins with him writing a single word on the board.

  GRATUITOUS.

  Well, shit.

  That’s so not the word that I want to watch him sprawl over the board. When Ethan turns around of course I don’t know whether to look at the strong muscles moving beneath his jacket or the gorgeous shape of his ass.

  “When details are gratuitous, they detract, rather than add, to a work of writing,” Ethan begins.

  I inhale. Sure thing. I start taking notes.

  “For a quality piece of writing, you always want to direct your readers. Lead them to where you want them to be.”

  Fuck.

  I know that’s a bit of a reach…but I swear I see that little smirk Ethan made between my legs. Making me cum. That’s enough to make me shiver in my seat. But he doesn’t mean anything about us, he’s giving an English lecture for class.