17
Melanie woke up and felt her swollen lips with her fingers. They were still tender to the touch. Using her phone's selfie mode, she studied the blood which had dried around her bottom lip. Licking her thumb, she tried to use her moist digit to clean up some of the blood which stuck to her like glue from the anarchy of last night.
It was Sunday morning in New York City and the young woman from Iowa never imagined she would ever experience her darkest desires, but last night her lover had made one of her wishes come true.
She looked over at her sleeping professor. She studied the face of Dr. Armando Fontaine. He was charming, handsome and his eyelids fluttered as he slept. She wondered if he was dreaming. What about? She asked herself.
Melanie knew her professor would wake up soon, an
