Free His American Fling by Kim Brogan Page B

arm around his neck and felt his hand fondle me through the rather thin tank top I was wearing. He stopped kissing and concentrated on feeling my breast. His breathing quickly became fast and shallow, the sounds and touch of his fingers cupping and playing with my breasts and nipples, sending all the right signals through my body. I was matching him breath by breath, my pulse picking up quickly. 
    Continuing to roll my nipples through the tank top, Professor Adair stopped, reached under my top to fondle my breast in his palm and then went back to covering my mouth with his, the tongue taking up residence next to mine. His fingers were long and wrapped easily around my breast.  As his thumb played with my nipples, he started giving me deeper kisses, his tongue becoming more aggressive.
    Campbell’s hips pushed into mine, grinding against my body. Everything in my groin was on fire and I wasn’t sure I could take much more of this foreplay standing up. I shifted a little and could feel his healthy erection through his jeans. Lifting my leg, I wrapped it around the small of his back, pulling him in as close as possible. Lifting the hem of my top, he pulled it up over my breasts. His mouth abandoned mine and latched onto my nipple, sucking so hard it was both painful and pleasing.
    There was a quick knock on the door, which , to my dismay, I noticed wasn’t quite latched all the way.  Campbell stopped sucking and jumped back several feet, his hands flying up as if I were a hot potato. I managed to get my top down just as the door opened. Professor Adair turned away from Mr. Bitner, who was now standing in the doorway. He didn’t want Bitner to see that he was highly aroused. 
    Mr. Bitner looked at me, standing up against the wall and then at Professor Adair with his back to him. His knitted brow and pursed lips told me that he knew something was up, but wasn’t quite sure what. Professor Adair picked up his bag and placed it strategically in front of him before turning to address Mr. Bitner.
    “Yes, well I will be going now. Thank you Ms. McGee. Mr. Bitner, before I go, is there anything else?” Professor Adair smiled at the confused husband.
     
    Mr. Bitner shook his head, “No, I was just on my way to the pharmacy and was going to ask Ms. McGee if she would watch my wife until I get back.”
    I spoke, my voice cracking, “Of course I will.”  Professor Adair slipped past Mr. Bitner. “Goodnight doctor,” I yelled at him. 
    He turned, glanced at me quickly, and then bolted. Mr. Bitner left and I sat down on the edge of my bed.  What the hell was that all about?
    *********************
    The worst part about staying in a dorm is that you have to share a bathroom with everyone else. And when you live on the ground floor, you often share it with the public who wander through the grounds to get a feel for a real part of Cambridge University. I was in the bathroom, taking a shower, when I heard someone coughing in the shower next to mine.
    “Mrs. Bitner? Is that you?” I waited, but there was no response. It had been a week since Mrs. Bitner’s respiratory problems had led to my momentary lapse in sanity and Professor Adair’s mouth on my breast.
      I decided that it must not be Mrs. Bitner. After dressing, I stepped out of the shower room and into areas next to the sinks. The coughing still coming from the shower-room had that phlegm-sopped sound and was getting louder.  I decided to wait just outside to see if the woman needed help. A few minutes later one of the law school students, Tanya Hunter, appeared. She was an incredibly thin girl with horn-rimmed glasses. I’d say she probably in her early-twenties. I liked her because she wasn’t at Cambridge to party. Most nights she stayed in her room and studied late into the night to pass two legitimate history courses being offered that summer. Tanya and I sometimes visited each other just to have a break from our schoolwork and jobs. She was a sweet kid from