When I thought I couldn't be stretched any further he resposition himself. His cock was now perpendicular to me, pointing towards his target. Then he did it. The time for fuck fuck games was over. The teasing, the humiliation, was yesterdays problem. "No, please don't," I was terrified now. He began to lean forward. Then, all at once he just fell on to me, his cock pushed in balls deep and his weight pushed me harder into the wall. "Don't," I started again, but I betrayed myself. "...stop," I said in a sort of moan. He laughed at me. He wasted no time allowing me to get used to it as he started to fuck me. His hand had moved from my arm to the wall in front of me as his other arm reached around my waist. The force of his thrusts and his momentum had me banging the side of my head into the cold tile wall. It didn't take long. He fucked me furiously for about 3 minutes before he started to grunt. He pulled my hips into his and pushed in as deep as he could. He let out a gutteral groan. He was the reason I was graduating. Milton held out his hand for me to shake. ‘I look forward to working with you, Professor Berner.’ For the first time in my life, I felt like I deserved that title. Professor. I stood up, took his hand, and gave it a firm shake. ‘Same, Dr. Milton.’ Milton departed with a curt nod, leaving me to bask in his pride. As I started packing up the things in my cubicle (I would be getting my own private office when I returned in the fall), my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Vicky. ‘How did it go?’ ‘Great,’ I replied. ‘I’m graduating!’ ‘Congrats babe! We should celebrate!’ ‘You think so?’ ‘Yes! I already have a great idea how.’ # A day later, I was sitting at Casa della Rosa, a semi-formal Italian bistro located in one of the city’s hotels. As I took a sip of my red wine, the waiter came by the table. ‘Are you ready to order, sir?’ ‘No, not yet,’ I said after savoring the wine for a moment. ‘I’m waiting for someone.’ The waiter didn’t say.
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