3 ~ Good Little Slut Cumming Hard

GREGORY'S POV

“Yes… Daddy,” I had barely finished begging as he assured me I was getting fucked by him when he grabbed my neck, pulled me up and slammed me into the leather seat.

He locked his eyes on me as he took off his ties. My body only burned with lust. I paused my breathing to prevent me from moaning—One I had been keeping since the moment he got into this goddamn office.

His fingers reached out to his shirt's button and he began to open. Every one of it he loosened only sent jolts of shiver down my spine and I began sucking my lips as soon as I laid my eyes on his perfectly fine abs that could make a woman or man bend over a fucking kitchen table for him.

“Your cock is twitching just from looking at me undressing.” He smirked. “I don't like it when boys are in control. I will teach you how to do that.”

“Okay, sir.” I replied, my voice low.

Professor Richard took off his shirt finally. Then, his shoes. His socks. His pants. Then, his briefs again, revealing that evil he calls cock.

“I wanna watch you stroke yourself till you cum.” He said with a smile, his voice devoid of any form of emotion. I hesitated. “Now!” He pressured.

His words only carried a powerful command that triggered the urge to touch myself in me. Something I've never done. Slowly, I moved my hand below and when I touched the tip of my four inch cock, I let the cat out of the bag, “I've never touched myself.”

Disbelief etched on his face for a moment. “That makes it more interesting.” He finally responded while my heart began to beat fast. “Start stroking.”

My hand trembled as I wrapped it around my cock, the heat of Professor Richard’s gaze searing into my skin. He knelt between my shaking knees, his eyes glued to the movement of my fist as I began to stroke—slow and uncertain.

“Good boy,” he whispered, his breath warm against my thighs. “Nice and slow. Let me see how desperate you are.” I whimpered, my cock twitching in my grip.

The friction was too much, too new. “That’s it,” he purred, his fingers spreading across my hips possessively. “Stroke for me, Gregory. Make a mess for your professor.” My breath hitched.

I was already so close.

My hand moved again, shaky at first, then steadying under the weight of his voice. Professor Richard’s dark eyes never left my cock—his tongue grazing his lower lip as if tasting me from a distance.

“Faster now,” he growled, one hand gripping my thigh, the other trailing lazy circles on my trembling inner knee. “Look at you... my sweet, filthy little student.”

I whimpered, my head tilting back, sweat clinging to my temple. “Y… Yes, sir,” I breathed, stroking harder now, my cock pulsing against my palm.

“That’s it,” he whispered, leaning in close, his mouth inches from the tip. “Don’t stop. I want to see you fall apart just from my voice.”

My legs trembled violently, my thighs twitching. The sound of his breath—slow and deliberate—against my skin made me dizzy.

“You’re stroking for me like a good little slut, aren’t you?” He taunted, his fingers now sliding up to my chest, pinching my nipple.

I cried out, moaning shamelessly. My hips jerked on their own. “Fuck! I… I can’t…”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, licking his lips. “Don’t you dare cum until I say so.”

Every muscle in me tightened. I had never felt this vulnerable, this seen, this... owned. And God, I fucking loved it but… I couldn't hold on any longer.

“I'm going to cum…” My voice came out ragged, my hand stroking my cock at a faster pace than before.

“Don't!” He raised his eyes, boring it into mine but it was too late.

I threw my head back, my legs trembling and splayed in the air, as my cock throbbed violently in my hand.

A primal, guttural moan escaped my lips—raw, desperate, almost a scream—as jet after jet of cum spurted from me like a broken dam. Hot, thick ropes of it painted everything in sight, draining me of control, of shame, of air.

My muscles spasmed. My hand froze mid-stroke, clenched tight around my still-hard cock, while my lungs sucked in breath like I was drowning. I curled my toes and trembled, every nerve in my body alight and aching from release.

And then I heard it.

“Is this how you treat Daddy?” Professor Richard's voice cracked through the thick, sex-drenched air like a whip.

I jolted and dropped my head forward, only to freeze—paralyzed by the sight of his face.

Drenched.

Utterly, obscenely drenched in my cum.

It streamed down his face in fat, sticky trails—from his forehead, across his cheeks, clinging to his lashes, pooling along his jaw. Even his tongue flicked over his bottom lip, as if sampling my filth like a decadent sin. Tiny droplets sparkled like pearls on his hair.

My heart pounded against my ribcage. Why the fuck was there so much?

That was… probably the hardest I had ever cum in my life. Explosive. Violent. Endless.

“I… I’m sorry, Prof. I couldn’t hold it,” I stammered, breathless, my voice shaking and soaked in guilt. My entire body trembled—exhausted but still alive with want. “I didn’t mean to…”

My legs dropped on either side of him as I reached out in instinct to clean his face—ashamed, desperate to make it right.

But his hand shot up and seized my wrist.

“Don’t even try it,” he said coldly, eyes glinting with cruel delight. “You think there isn’t a price for disobeying your Daddy? For painting my face like some cheap cum rag?”

I swallowed hard. My stomach turned.

“Won’t I get good grades again?” I asked, my voice barely audible. My fingers shook where they hovered helplessly in the air.

He smiled, but it wasn’t kind. It was dominant. Punishing.

“Oh, you will,” he purred. “But only after you earn them… the hard way.”

My eyes widened. “What’s the price?”

His face inched closer. My cum dripped slowly down his chin, threatening to fall onto his crisp, white shirt.