Sarah's Education Read Online Free PDF Page B

back her self-control. It’d been a close thing. Sarah had a defence that had become a reflex. She squirmed a hand between their bodies, found the tab of his zipper and pulled it down.
    David gasped, ‘Oh Sarah! I love you
so
much.’
    He always declared his love for her when her hand got close to his cock. She’d have preferred an honest, ‘Jerk me off, please.’ That’s what he really meant.
    She said, ‘Lie back.’
    He rolled away, lowered the back of his seat and went down with it. Sarah leant over him, put her hand inside the fly of his jeans, found his burning shaft and pulled it out.
    ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said. She translated that as, ‘Please don’t stop.’
    Businesslike, she spat into her palm and wrapped her fingers around him. It did feel good in her hand, she had to admit, but it was no comparison to Jack’s. What she really wanted was to be alone in her bed in her room, going over her date with Jack in minute detail and maybe masturbating, if she liked. She wanted to whisper his name, as she had that afternoon, until she went to sleep. Well, she’d get there soon enough. With her fingers loose, she stroked David’s foreskin up and down, going faster than he probably wanted. His hand settled on the top of her head and pressed down lightly. She resisted. No way, David. My mouth belongs to another. She gripped him tighter and pumped faster. He began to groan. His hips jerked up at her. Any minute now …
    He erupted. Warm cream flowed down over her fingers and the back of her hand. She wiped them off on his denim-clad thigh, retrieved her old top, opened her door and was out of his car before he recovered from his climax.
    ‘Goodnight, David, and thanks again for the sweater.’

3
    THE NEXT MORNING , between lectures, she managed to squeeze in a trip to her bank to deposit her funds, legitimate and otherwise, and pay off her current debts. Sarah had lived with debt for so long she’d become used to it. She floated on the freedom she felt, no longer hung-over and no longer in arrears on payments.
    Sarah was in her last year of an honours degree in philosophy. Now that they were well into September, her classes were taking shape and her professors were adequate to wonderful, with the exception of her maniacal existentialism professor. She was taking an improvisation class as a final credit towards her minor, drama, and it looked like it would be fun, at least, if not actually useful as a means of bridging the gap she perceived between herself and everybody else.
    Indian summer still held Toledo in its stultifying grip, but most of her classes were in air-conditioned rooms and now that she had wheels again, there’d be no more pavement stomping for Sarah Meadows. Soon, autumn would nudge the heatwave aside and paint the campus with the rich red and gold hues that always raised her spirits.
    It was only while lingering over an apple pie and coffee in a McDonald’s that she acknowledged her reluctance to go home. Sarah wanted a call to have come in for her while she was gone – a call from Jack. Somewhere during their decadent night together, she’d fallen in love with him. If he hadn’t called by the time she got home she knew she’d run a serious risk of sliding into despair. It was stupid, plain and simple, and she was not a stupid girl. But she knew herself well enough to know that once she’d painted a picture in her mind it was pointless to try to erase it. Ignore it, avoid it, rationalise it? Sure. But she’d yet to develop the skill set not to let it happen and, once it did, she could not so much as dilute it with reason, let alone eliminate it. She left the coffee half-drunk and headed to her car.
    There was a yellow Post-it note on her door when she got upstairs. ‘Call them’, and a local number. Sarah’s heart leapt with joy. Yes! She was so used to having her hopes dashed she’d forgotten that sometimes dreams come true. Sarah didn’t recognise the number so it had to