Just thought I'd share a sample of the erotic novella that I'm working on at the moment. If I keep up the pace that I'm going right now with it, it should be ready to be released in a few weeks. Enjoy.
e paid close attention to melodic flow of her voice, overflowing with lust as the woman at the front of the classroom’s juicy, wet, luscious lips moved but, he didn’t hear a word that came out of her mouth. He was supposed to be taking notes but he hadn’t even put a single drop of ink on any of the pristine, blue-lined pages of his notebook. In fact, he hadn’t even touched his pen. Instead, he remained obsessed with watching Professor Priscilla Anthony’s mouth move, consumed by unwholesome thoughts as he imagined how good those amazing lips must taste. As she continued to explain the artistic significance of the nude painting of a curvy, plus-sized woman that was being projected on the screen at the front of her classroom, he continued to wonder what his professor looked like under her summer dress. The way the thin material hugged her form in certain areas but remained loose in others seemed like a tease, which only served to make him even more aroused.
World Arts had nothing to do with his college major which was electrical engineering but Marlon Mercer had signed up for Professor Priscilla’s class anyway after he happened to spot her in the hallway by chance on the first day of registration. Somehow, in a sea of young, nubile coeds, she had been the woman who had caught his eye as she walked by. There was a confidence in her stride that intrigued him and the way her wide, shapely hips swayed caught the attention of his hungry eyes. She had looked incredibly plump and scrumptious from behind in her grey slacks which made him even more obsessed to learn what he could about her. He figured that the best way to do that was to spend an entire semester in her class and that was why he sat in the first row of her classroom, staring at her lips as the summer heat left over from August made sweat bead up on the back of his neck.
For a split second, when Professor Priscilla looked away from the slide of the painting that was projected on the screen at the front of the class to look back at her sleepy students, all weary from the heat, Marlon thought that her gaze lingered on him just a bit longer than on anyone else. In his mind, their eyes met and then locked a moment longer than they should have which made him wonder if she had read his thoughts. It seemed like an impossible thing buy he was certain that in her lifetime, she must have seen other men look at her the way he did every Tuesday and Thursday when he sat in the front of her class, listening lazily to her lectures with carnal thoughts in both of his heads. To him, she seemed like the type of woman who had always been pretty and equipped with the type of body that inspired wet, nighttime fantasies. Then, just like a noisy alarm clock that rudely interrupted a sweet dream, the obnoxious buzzer that meant that class was over sounded loudly.
Marlon stuffed his unmarked notebook into his backpack and quickly got up to leave. The end of his World Arts class pulled him from his fantasies and brought him back to reality like a sobering slap to the face. It was his last class for the day and, as much as he enjoyed ogling his curvy professor, he was eager to be done for the day. It might have been college but that high school feeling of freedom once the final bell sounds was still deeply ingrained and hard to forget. On his way out of the classroom door, from the corner of his eye, Marlon thought he caught a glimpse of Professor Priscilla watching him as she gathered her things. He knew that it was most likely a figment of his wildly overactive, overstimulated, oversexed imagination but he blushed anyway.