Page 16 of Full Service

“God,” I murmur as the back of my head thunks on the wall, my dick doing all sorts of inappropriate things. It’s currently waving at Everly and trying to entice him with a wink. And who could blame it? Look at him.

Fucking look at him.

I groan softly at the way he rolls his hips, the way his abs flex into six perfect squares, his hands behind his head as he watches me. No wonder I lost control when I was getting that lap dance. He’s all-consuming. I can feel him in my balls, tingling, drawing me close to release just from looking at me.

He’s sex personified.

I reach down once more, trying to tame my dick into submission, but my palm ends up rubbing against my length instead. I’m basically masturbating in public at this point, and I don’t even care if anyone is looking. Not that they are. Their eyes are focused on the men on stage.

Oh fuck, oh fuck.

I want to stick my hand down my pants and jerk it, to give it some relief, but I don’t know if I need to. This may be enough, this friction of my palm digging into my dick.

Everly turns around and leans forward, his ass on display once more and he does some flick with his waist that has his cheeks bouncing. I squeeze the base of my dick as hard as I can, to hinder any kind of pre-ejaculation, but I just can’t manage to stave it off. The visual before me is too much, too enticing, and without warning, my cock erupts in my pants. I gasp and groan at the sensation, my boxers flooding with cum.

Oh, hell no. I came barely touched, just from the sight of him.

I twitch and shiver, riding it out as long as I can. And as soon as it’s done, shame washes over me and I feel my cheeks heat. Oh my god, what the hell am I doing? What the hell is this?

I need to leave. I need to escape before he sees me. One glance down at the wet patch on the front of my pants will tell him all he needs to know.

He managed to make me come. Again.

And this time, all he did was stand there flexing the globes of his ass.

I punch my leg to get my feet unstuck from the ground and then I’m off, nearly jogging across the parking lot, my coat flapping behind me, my release dripping down my legs. My dick is rapidly softening and feels none of the shame I currently do.

I am a thirty-five-year-old tenured professor. I should not be behaving this way.

Foolish, is what this is. Unhinged.

I scramble to my car and just as my hand hits the handle and a beep signals it’s unlocked, I hear my name called out from across the dimly lit lot.

I am going to get murdered and they’re gonna find me with underwear full of splooge.

“Dr. Sinclair!” the voice calls out again.

A wince takes over my face. Oh god, don’t out me. For fuck’s sake.

I turn slowly, trying to behave naturally, but there he is, shivering in his small jock strap and cowboy boots. He looks positively edible.

“Jesus, Everly,” I say and then clear my throat, peeling my jacket off and handing it to him. When he doesn’t take it, I place it around his bare shoulders and hold it closed. His eyes are shining when I finally meet his gaze.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, and I nod, feeling so ashamed.

“I didn’t realize you’d be performing tonight,” I lie. “It’s inappropriate that I was here, to say the least.”

He rolls his lips between his teeth and nods. “Did you not enjoy the show?”

My eyes fall to the side. I did enjoy the show and that’s part of the problem.

“You are very good at what you do,” I say diplomatically. It’s the least I can do when I behaved so abominably mere minutes ago.

“Good. I’m glad you liked it. But will you wait for me, so I can see you after I’m finished?”

I shake my head, feeling my dick try and perk up in my pants despite having just released a minute ago. It’s ready for more action.

“I really need to get home. This was a mistake.”