“I have to be certain,” he told her, “that you are equipped to be my intern in the fall. So why don’t we start you out on a sort of trial basis? Think of it as a training period. To prepare you for the rigors of being a full-time intern.”
“Yes, certainly,” she exclaimed. Her body trembled eagerly. “Thank you so much, Professor.”
“I insist on a bit more formality from my interns, as deference to the position I’ve attained within this institution,” he said gently. “Kindly address me as ‘Sir.’”
“Yes, Sir, of course.”
He studied her with piercing intensity. “Your friends and family call you Marissa? No nicknames?”
“No, Sir, not really.”
“Then let me be the first. Missy is a nice, logical derivative, isn’t it?”
“I…well, yes, Sir.”
“In any written correspondence you write to me—be it e-mail or a post-it memo, I will expect you to thus address me as Sir, and to sign off as Missy. Do I make myself clear?”
“Oh, yes, Sir.”
“Splendid. Such a lovely girl, Missy.”
Her cheeks pinkened under his continued regard. His fingers continued their gentle circling motion, gathering her dewy wetness, spreading it. He removed his hand from her panties and wiped two fingers on her thigh, leaving a glistening wet streak. Her body quivered; it wanted his hand back. There was nothing else to say. “Thank you, Sir.”
His cool eyes warmed considerably. He brought his fingers up, chucked her teasingly under the chin. His fingers were so close, she could smell herself. She knew what he wanted her to do. A kiss, to seal the deal. She bowed her head, kissed the proof of her desire from his fingertips. A gentle push made her part her lips, sucking in the digits. They sat like that for a while as he fucked her mouth with those wet fingers, she gazing into his unrelenting eyes, he watching her back as he murmured, “You are being a very good girl, Missy.”
