36 Inches: A MFMM Romantic Comedy

by Alexis Angel

“You’re not the first student that Ethan slept with,” Delia says.

  I’m shocked by this, but I’m not jealous. Am I delusional that I feel like I'm still special to him? I know he’s special to me, and since he’s disappeared off the face of the earth, maybe that is enough. “Ten years ago — I did some digging — he slept with a girl, a freshman student.” Delia stops, but there’s so obviously more.

  “Well…what happened?” I ask. If Delia didn’t come right out and say it, then it must be bad.

  “Oh, well, she died. The death was ruled an accident. The girl’s family blamed Ethan, and they tried to sue him, and it was all settled out of court,” Delia explains.

  I raise my eyebrow. “Why would Ethan settle?”

  Delia rests her palms flat on the bed behind her and leans on them. “Maybe he felt guilty,” Delia says.

  Shiiiit. This has me so twisted up in knots.

  “Maybe it's best that you just let things go with Ethan,” Delia says.

  I sigh, my shoulders sinking.

  “He seems to have walked away, and maybe that’s what you need to do, too,” Delia says, and she reaches out to give me another hug. “And don’t think that I don’t know you just skipped a class. I meant you could meet me afterward, girl. Get your ass ready for your chemistry lab.”

  I chuckle. Can always count on Delia to have my back, kick my ass, or whatever I need.

  “Thanks for digging into everything for me, babe.” I grab my notebooks and shove everything together in my bag. “Yeah, skipping class, screwing professors with murder dicks, that’s probably not the thing to get used to,” I say with a half-hearted chuckle.

  I say that, and I know that I did bad shit. But I don’t believe that the heinous stuff about Ethan could be true. It makes me feel foolish that I’m still holding out the possibility that everything is just how it seems. It felt like more.

  Am I just another girl who gave her virginity to a man and now everything went sideways?

  I just can’t believe all of this. I know damn well that I’m not going to let this go. I don’t want to hide it from Delia, but I also don’t know what to say right now. I’m going to find Ethan because he can’t hide forever. I’m going to get to the bottom of this. I just hope I can do it without further breaking my now even more fragile heart.

  If everything bad about Ethan is true, I don’t even know if that will be enough for me to let go of him. That’s just damned foolish, but I can’t fight how I feel inside and hope to win. Should horrible things about Ethan may be true, and then I guess I have to hope that they can be powerful enough to kill my feelings.

  But I can’t fight this overwhelming sense that I know Ethan…that I really do, and that none of this can possibly be true.

  “Bye, Delia,” I say, heading out the door.

  Delia follows behind me, heading off to her own class.

  I’m hardheaded and while I’m going to my chemistry lab, I still know that I’m not over this by a long shot. Foolish as it makes me feel, I still think I’m going to be a breath away from drawing Ethan's name in little hearts in my notebook. I have it truly, seriously, bad and I don’t even want to be over it.

  Ethan needs to be the one to tell me why he’s avoiding me.

  And it's me, and only me, that he’s avoiding. So I have to find him. I know just the place. I will head to his office after my class. Just because there was a substitute professor in my particular session doesn’t mean there won’t be one later. As he must be avoiding me, this is the way for me to find out not just if that is true, but why the fuck he is avoiding me at all.

  I want some answers.

  I need to see his face.

  Emmaline

  I enter the building with his name on it. Head past the lecture hall where I attend his classes. I'm back to confirm that he’s in his office.

  Sure enough, Ethan is seeing other students in his office.

  I’m the one he’s avoiding.

  When the last student in that line is gone and walks out, having conducted their business, I walk toward the again closed door and feel so strange. I want to knock, but I’m also so upset. I hesitate for a second and then open the door without knocking. I need to see him; I miss Ethan's face that much.

  Sitting at his desk, Ethan still looks formidable and impressive. I will never be able to breathe that second I see him. This is no different. I audibly gasp at just the sight of him. His intricately gorgeous, intense face, the hollows of his cheekbones when he sucks in a breath of his own. I want to kiss Ethan on the inhale, and climb him for the exhale.

  I’m upset but mostly I love him. I love him and I needed to see him.

  “Emmaline,” Ethan says in a low growl.

  A shiver climbs up my spine and tickles my scalp, and even my toes. I reach out in his direction for a second, just instinctually because I want to touch him.

  Ethan stands, almost a reaction to that touch and he’s stood and stepped just a touch closer to me.

  “Why are you ignoring me, avoiding me?” I say. I don’t care how desperate my voice sounds. I’m right here and I want to pour myself all over him, and I just need to feel him in return.

  Ethan bites his lip, narrows his eyes, and finally responds, his face considering mine. “You wanted a one night stand, and that’s what I gave you,” he says. I hear the raw power in his voice, the thick timbre of it dark. There’s so much more to what he’s saying, but since I’ve been shut out, I don’t understand it fully.

  “That’s not what I want now,” I say, but I back up a step. I'm dangerously close to making a fool of myself and that was okay with me until right now. Because if Ethan tells me that’s what he wants, then I’m going to be utterly crushed. I might shatter and turn to dust right here in his office.

  “You don’t know what you want,” Ethan says, his voice a deadly calm before a storm.

  The words whisper over my skin, and I turn toward him. “Yes, I do-“

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Ethan says through gritted teeth.

  “Did the last girl that you had an affair with know what she was getting into?” I yelp, frustrated that he seems to be having such a strong reaction but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to touch me. Does he even want me? There’s a welling sea of emotion breaking through me like a static electric storm surging through me.

  Ethan deletes the space between us and grabs me, his fingers digging into my skin, holding my upper arms and shaking me a little. I’m jarred, like a little doll he can break in his touch. In this moment, if Ethan wanted to shatter me, that would be preferable to not having his hands on me. I’m not afraid of him, but I am afraid of what comes next. Not because I think Ethan will hurt me, but because I’m so aroused by his touch and by the brutal emotion he’s finally showing, I don’t know how to make it to the next moment.

  “What happened with that other girl?” I ask quietly. It's part curiosity and part apology for pulling out a fact with no context.

  I just want him to make me understand. If this is painful, I want Ethan to give me the pain. I need to know what he’s thinking, feel what he’s feeling, and if I can, I need to give him what he needs. What I need is for him to bring everything at my shoulders and lay it on me, because I want to be consumed by everything that is him. How do I tell him that?

  “Well,” Ethan draws out the word. One of his hands goes up to the nape of my neck, and the other strokes my jawline achingly slow.

  My eyes draw hooded with lust, his touch burning my skin up for him. My panties are so wet and my clit aches now. I need him so much I could burst.

  “If you know about that,” Ethan says in a quietly powerful voice that makes me think of him as a volcano that won’t be dormant much longer. “Then why would you want me?” His sensual voice is almost musical in my ears. “Don’t you think I might be dangerous?” he asks with a wicked lift of an eyebrow that makes the mask of his always-composed face villainously attractive.

  But I
know Ethan is not sinister. He’s my protector and never would he harm me. “I know you’re dangerous. You’re the only person who could hurt me, but you’re not going to,” I say, my confidence utterly solid. “Like how I know now that you’re going to put me out of my misery. I need you to fuck away all the pain I’ve had being apart from you,” I say, my lips trembling. I crash into him, crashing my lips against him.

  Ethan meets my kiss with an equally unbridled passion. The furious power surging through him is poured down my throat with his every kiss, his tongue sweeping over mine, his lips kissing mine again and again. This is not a gentle kiss. This isn't a slow burn. He’s incinerating me with a passion that leaves my lips bruised and my body aching like a shadow of his every action, desperately responding to his every passionate touch. I moan into his mouth and he eats it, growling against my lips.

  Emmaline

  I pull back from our kiss, pressing my fingers to Ethan's lips. “You steal the life out of me when you kiss me like that,” I say, breathless.

  Ethan captures my wrist, pulling me to his side by my hand. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice husky, talking through gritted teeth with an intense passion.

  “I’ll die if you stop kissing me,” I tell him. Melodramatic, and utterly true. We’re like this, and if you don’t get it by now, you’re reading the wrong story.

  Romeo and Juliet didn’t know shit about love when it comes to drama, not compared to us.

  I think about Jane Eyre and her tormented Byronic hero, Rochester. They were brutally honest with each other, and they loved each other so intensely that they could never be apart without it crushing them.

  Jane saw Rochester through society and knew that they were two souls as one, and she felt herself in him.

  “He is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine;—I am sure he is,—I feel akin to him,—I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.”

  Yes, no one understands the Ethan I see now. He and are the same. Our boundless passion entwines us and we are more inevitable than death, despite everything that tries to stop us.

  “I want to worship your body,” I tell Ethan.

  He smirks at me so deliciously, but the way that he looks down, his face heats a little, he sucks in a breath, I know that no one has said such a thing to him before. Not anyone that he wanted before. “I want you to be mine forever. I need to be yours,” I say, whisper soft but sounding out everything that I desperately need.

  Am I foolish, am I young? But so what if I think of love through the ages and want ours to be just as great? I feel it. And when Ethan looks at me, when he touches me, I know that he feels it, too.

  Ethan tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls me to him, where I'm beside him, kissing the side of my mouth and moaning against my skin. I’m on fire when he touches me, and I’m desperate for him to touch me every way he wants to. I want to be a vessel for his pleasure the way that he’s the creator of my ecstasy.

  His other hand starts to take off my clothes, and he steps behind me to pull off every inch of my clothing until I’m completely bare before him.

  Pressing a small kiss on the nape of my neck, Ethan makes me shiver but he makes me wait. The tantalizing wait makes me desperate for him but I wait, I breathe, I become more and more aware of how I can’t see him and I can’t feel him right now, but I don’t turn. I don’t turn because he hasn’t asked me to, and I like being part of his power play.

  I hear his clothes hit the floor. I see the pile out of the corner of my eye.

  Then I feel his hands close over my forearms. Ethan's cock is pressed against the seam of my ass, the planes of his chest press into my back. Ethan draws his hands around me and cups my bare breasts. His mouth is on my neck, kissing me tenderly. His tongue glides over the curve of my collarbone. I moan, rubbing my ass into his bare cock, begging him to give me what we both need.

  Ethan trails a hand down my stomach and I whimper, begging with only sounds and not words for everything I need him to give me.

  “You’re my perfect little princess, waiting for me to touch your pussy,” Ethan says, lips pressed against my shoulder blade now. “Are you so wet for me? Will I find you desperately wanting me?’

  “Always,” I say, exhaling. Every time I breathe I press his cock against my ass, brush it against me more.

  His other hand still on my breasts closes over my heart. Ethan's fingers capture my nipple and tug fiercely.

  I yelp. Every sensation that should hurt or confuse me only serves to heighten my lust and I’m desperate for him. I ache for this touch but I’m only begging so much as it pleases him. Desperately wanting him like this is part of pleasing him and I love every minute of it.

  “Your body knows my touch as much as your heart knows how to beat,” Ethan says, and I feel his fingers finally brush my pussy. He traces around my pussy lips, and then spreads me and teases around my clit. But he doesn’t touch me enough yet to take this to another level. He just tortures me so deliciously that I feel like I’m becoming delirious.

  I need this more than I’ve ever needed anything in my life. It tastes so different to want something and to not almost viciously pursue it. The passion and intensity that I would normally apply to pursuit I now apply to being pursued. Ethan's own intensity matches my desire, sates it, serves it, and creates a raging sea of passion between us.

  Ethan growls against my skin, jabbing his cock between my ass cheeks. That thrust and groan is all the warning I get before he starts to work my clit, rubbing rough circles over my sensitive spot with such fervor that I start to sweat and pant. I fall back against him, and his other hand wraps around and holds me. The passionate, rough yet tender fury that Ethan shows me now makes me ache. The dull ache within my body pulses through me, and my eyes start to well up. The thick rod of his cock against me makes me hungry. I need him with a maddening lust that eliminates everything from my thoughts but desire.

  The arm that’s gripping me tight keeps holding me tight, but the hand dips into my pussy, and he slides several fingers into my pussy. He pumps into me and strokes my G-spot. The instant intensity makes my pussy tremble and shake.

  “You better cum hard, Emmaline, because whatever cream you provide is what I’m using to lube up your ass while I finger your pussy,” Ethan says, lips trailing my spine.

  Holy fuck.

  I know I have the same words, but I in no way want to use them. I want every hole of my body to belong to Ethan, and the idea of using my cum to fuck me more is just so intensely hot that I can’t stand the idea of waiting a second longer.

  I don’t have to wait much longer. Ethan's teeth are on my earlobe and he sinks his teeth into me. I yelp, and his hands working me over make my shatter around his hand. His fingers milk every drop of cream from my aching, greedy pussy and I’m desperate for him to keep going.

  And I want that forbidden, incredible pleasure of that massive cock deep in my ass. I'm so wet just thinking about it that my thighs are streaked with pussy juices sliding down from my arousal.

  “Fuck my ass, Ethan. Claim me so much that you write your name over all of my insides,” I tell him. It's silly and dramatic, but if you’re paying attention, you know that’s the only level we operate at. The knob is either on zero or eleven with us, there’s no in-between.

  “I want all your virgin holes,” Ethan growls. “I’m going to fuck your mouth after this, all your holes should be stuffed with my cock as much as possible.”

  Holy fuuuuuuck. I think my pussy is actually clapping right now, just fluttering so hard from the post-orgasm waves still surging through me.

  Ethan slides his hand back and lubes up his cock and then presses a hand against my back to bend me over. “Push out with me and it will feel strange, but let me open you up, princess,” Ethan commands.

  I obey, and that’s all I want. To be
filled with his cock and to obey his every order. They meld together in a potent cocktail of lust.

  “And breathe for me, baby. It will feel so much better if you don’t fight me. And you use your safe words if you need to, of course,” Ethan says, sweeping some of my hair back and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

  “Yes,” I say, my breathing ragged. “Use me so good, Ethan. I fucking need it,” I moan.

  He doesn’t have to be told twice. He presses the head of his cock to my ass, and Ethan starts to thrust in. I push out against him, I keep breathing, and I follow his every order. Ethan fucks into my ass so deep and I feel fuller than I ever have in my life. He doesn’t pump yet and I get used to the sensation of him stretching and filling me up so completely. I need him so deep inside of me and I’m crying out with so many moans. He’s not even pumping me and I’m going to cum, I swear, my legs are shaking desperately.

  “Still good for me, Emmaline?” Ethan asks. I can hear the restraint in his voice. With Ethan fucking his cock so deep into me, I know that it's taking everything not to start thrusting so hard.

  And that’s exactly what I want.

  “I-I’m going to cum, please fuck me, please,” I whimper.

  “Fuck, you’re such a dirty little angel,” Ethan says, and I feel his fingers slide into my pussy. “Now that you’re stuffed so full, I’m going to fuck your ass and your pussy. I want you to cum so hard you can’t walk back to your dorm, Emmaline. Don’t hold back.”

  I want that…but we’re also in his office. Fuck, if ever there was a way to not get caught, it would be when you’re getting double penetrated by your professor.

  But umm his cock is so deep up my ass it could be his arm up to my elbow, and his thick fingers are stuffed in my pussy.

  Fuck it.

  Strike that…

  “Fuck me,” I groan.

  “Yes, princess,” Ethan says. His fingers pump furiously into me, and his cock strokes long and hard deep into my ass. He takes long strokes to fuck into my ass but he never fully exits me, and Ethan keeps his fingers deep in me despite how hard and fast he’s pumping, so I’m full to the brim from him fucking me.