A NIGHT WITH A MALE PROSTITUTE

"See you all next class." I said automatically as my students placed their answer sheets on my desk.

"Goodbye, Professor," came the reply from each of them.

One after the other, they all filed out and the lecture hall emptied. The joyful laughter of youths became a distant sound and I was left with silence.

One would think I would find peace in quiet, but I didn't. I never did.

As a woman in her mid-forties, interacting with my students has been my only source of spark in my boring life, and when that ends... I am once again reminded about my empty life.

Sighing, I stood up from my desk and gathered the stack of answer sheets into neat little piles. My fingers moved automatically, but my chest felt heavy.

I could already see how my evening would go... I would spend it marking scripts with a glass of wine in hand, while wishing for my life to be something more. KI just want a bit of excitement, but sadly... a widowed single woman in her forties, only excitement comes from petting a cat.

I pressed the papers tighter against my chest and walked out of the hall, then down the echoing hallway, my heels clicking softly on the tiles.

Outside, the sky was already bruising with dusk, the parking lot quiet. My car sat at the far end, lonely, like it knew it belonged to me.

I opened the back door, dropped the answer sheets onto the seat with a soft thud, then slipped behind the wheel. For a moment, I just sat there with both hands on the steering wheel, staring through the windshield.

Another day, another silence waiting for me at home.

With a sigh, I started the engine and drove off. My house isn't that far off from the University, within ten minutes I was already pushing open the door to my apartment.

Without turning on the lights, I threw my bag to the couch, pulled off my blazer and also flung it to the couch. Next, in the darkness... I walked to the kitchen and grabbed me a bottle of red wine.

This has been my life since the death of my husband, living like I didn't exist.

I kicked off my shoes, placed the answer sheets on my work desk, took a sip of my wine straight from the bottle, then pulled out my chair and sat down.

Work has been the only thing that kept me sane, from losing it all to my grief... Or thinking of the spouse who had left me behind.

I started marking the answer sheets, and once I was done marking, I decided to work on my next teaching material. I have a class tomorrow— I teach anatomy.

I opened up my laptop and started working on my lecture notes, in-between working I would take a gulp of my wine before delving back in.

Then it happened. A little pop-up showed up at the corner of my screen, it was an ad. Normally when pop-ups shows up on my screen, I would be quick to close it. But this...

This was different.

My fingers had froze, and my eyes stayed glued to the video ad.

On it was a woman on her knees, surrounded by men. Their bodies closed in around her, she had a cock in her mouth, two in her hands, another buried in her pussy and one more in her ass.

I suddenly felt breathless, and my body hot. As a respected professor, I knew I should close the pop-up and return back to my lecture notes.

But I wasn't thinking, something else... something sinful had taken over my mind. And like a mindless robot, with trembling hands and a fast beating heart, I clicked it.

The video filled the screen, obscene and raw. The woman moaned loudly, unashamedly taking them all... she begged for more, while her pussy flowed with its juice, dripping down her thighs.

I gulped, my eyes remained glued to the screen refusing to look away, the hair on my skin suddenly raised up.

My thighs pressed together under the desk, and I could feel in-between my legs throbbing with wants.

The lady was being fucked mercilessly, her screams of moans filled my house, waking up a feeling I had learnt to ignore since the death of my husband. But not today.

My fingers drifted lower on its own accord, then rested over my skirt, pressing down against the heat pulsing beneath. My thighs squeezed together, fighting myself.

"No..." I whispered, my breath shaky. But I didn't move my hand away.

I brushed my fingertip over the fabric, just the lightest stroke, and my breath hitched. The ache deepened, spreading through me, an old hunger stirring to life.

The woman on the screen moaned again, louder this time, and then the thoughts slipped in... what if I was her, I was the one in that position, having so many cocks fill every hole of mine, being used and overwhelming me in the way they did her.

"What in the world!" I screamed at myself shutting the laptop at once. What was I doing wishing to have cocks in my mouth and my asshole.

Sylvia you are not a slut! You are a respectable woman of the society, a professor and such illicit thoughts shouldn't be in your head.

I grabbed the bottle of wine and took a huge gulp, then breathed in and out, calming down my raging hormones.

We are going to open up the laptop, and we will only focus on writing our lecture notes, nothing else... nothing immoral.

With a long sigh, I opened up my laptop once more and this time the video was already paused.

"Okay, now close it Sylvia..." I swallowed hard, my fingers hovering just above my keyboard.

Shit! I can't.

It's been five years since my husband died. Five years of no sex, no touch, not even a finger between my own thighs. I told myself it was immoral, that I was above such weakness. But right now... watching her moan as cocks fill every hole, all I can think of is giving in to the very sin I swore off.

So instead of closing it, I played the video, and her moans filled my house once more, the slapping of thighs and the groaning of men infiltrated my ears, and my pussy thrived with wants.

My hand drifted lower again, trembling as it hovered over my lap. I shouldn't. God, I shouldn't. But the ache between my thighs throbbed, pulling me down into my sinful needs.

I brushed the outside of my panties. Just a light touch. And the damp heat that greeted me made me choke on a gasp. My hips twitched, pressing into my own hand, desperate for more.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. But my fingers didn't stop. They traced over the wet fabric again, firmer this time, finding the swollen nub that pulsed angrily beneath.

On the screen one of the men shoved deeper and the woman arched, her cry raw. My breath hitched and before I knew it... I was dipping my finger inside me, exploring. The wetness of my pussy clung to my fingers, and the sensation almost broke me apart.

I curled my finger, and a moan slipped out. God, it had been so long. Too long.

The men drove into her harder, and my fingers slid deeper. Every thrust tore a sound from me, tears pricking my eyes– It felt so good, so wrong, every inch of my body coming alive.

I pushed deeper... I couldn't stop now, not when the pleasure was all I could feel. So I grind harder–fuck! I let it take me.

The woman on the screen arched as another man drove into her. My body copied her, hips shifting, pushing down, craving more. I gave in, sliding another finger inside. The stretch made me whimper, my pussy walls fluttering around the intrusion.

"God—" I gasped, my voice breaking.

I had to give in, I had to fuck myself harder. So I did, I fucked myself with shaky thrusts, slow at first, then quicker as the need took over.

Every curl against my walls sent sparks that made me shudder. My free hand gripped the chair, knuckles white, as if I could anchor myself against the storm tearing through me.

Pleasure rose faster. My breaths came ragged, my body betraying me with every thrust. I couldn't stop grinding, I needed to cum. I had to cum.

The woman on the screen screamed as her body convulsed, stuffed full of cocks, and I screamed with her, my pussy clenching hard around my fingers as my orgasms ripped through me... my legs jerked uncontrollably, knees knocking against the desk, my whole body convulsing as if it has been waiting five years for this. My vision blurred, spots of white bursting behind my eyes.

"Oh God—oh God—ohhh—" I muffled the cry against my shoulder, shaking, unraveling.

I cried out, half-scream, half-moan, my voice raw as wave after wave kept tearing me apart. My pussy pulsed around my fingers, sucking them in deeper, as wetness spilled down my hand, my thighs trembling and soaked.

I couldn't stop cumming... I didn't know if I would ever stop. Each pulse dragged another out of me, until finally I collapsed forward, chest heaving and drenched in my cum.

My hand slipped out of me, sticky and trembling, my eyes staring at the ceiling above me in unbelief.

After catching my breath, and my body a bit calm, I weakly sat upright and stared at the screen. The woman was still being fucked, cock after cock slamming into her. My stomach twisted, I couldn't watch it anymore... suddenly I felt ashamed of what I had just done, and the pleasure I got from it.

I slammed the laptop shut, disgusted with myself, wishing I could erase what I had just done.

I stared at my fingers, and it still glistened with my wetness, sticky and smelling of sex. My breath caught in my throat, and the shame burned hot across my skin.

My husband's face flashed in my mind, and I nearly cried. Five years of not giving in, and this was how I broke, finger fucking myself in front of a screen. Panting alone in front of a lady being fucked like an animal.

I stumbled to my feet, my thighs slick and body still twitching from the pleasure.

Never again, I swore to myself. "Never again."