4: Professor's Cumdump

MICHAEL

Elijah.

The damn boy wouldn’t leave me alone for a moment.

His eyes lingered on me at every lecture.

He was at every turn I took with that arrogant smirk pasted on his face.

And those shameless comments he made publicly every chance he got?

They were infuriating considering it was his way of making his desire known to me.

I knew well enough that other students had eyes on me just like him.

But at least they were discreet.

Unlike him, not trying to hide his attraction away like the rest of them.

That was what had drawn me to him the first time I had met him at the gay bar.

His eyes.

They were so expressive.

Every single emotion he was feeling in the moment our gaze collided was vivid.

And he looked gorgeous up close.

The kiss we had shared was even better.

If that phone call had not interrupted us that day, it would have been a different story.

I would have found it hard to detach myself from the student I had fucked.

Elijah would never have made it easy.

I had dismissed him more times than I could count since I started here.

But it was genuinely hard to ignore his provocations each time he tried.

I would cut him down with words that were cold enough to freeze Antarctica.

Yet, it was never enough.

He kept coming back.

Pathetically.

It both pleased and displeased me that he was trying everything he could to take me back to the time we had met in flames.

His persistence was slowly unravelling me.

Though I would never admit it to him.

The chase, as much as I pretended to despise it, completely aroused me.

I was drained by the end of the third week in school.

My patience with him had worn thin.

I was fed up with it all.

Him.

The horny students.

The endless pile of work.

The university itself.

I just needed silence.

But silence only made me think.

I needed something stronger.

That was what had taken me back to the gay bar from that night.

Here was definitely not the kind of place I normally found myself.

It was always too crowded.

Mayhap too loud.

But I could order whiskey and water at the counter, and that was enough.

I slid into one of the seats at the counter and made an order with a deep sigh.

My sleeves were rolled up and my tie discarded as I waited for my drink.

Then I just sat there at the counter, trying to drink myself back into balance.

One glass turned into two.

Two became three.

Four followed three.

Soon, I downed the fifth glass.

The tension in my shoulders had eased by that time.

A man came to the counter to order a drink.

He flashed me a smile while at it.

I ignored him, looking away.

When I turned back, he was leaning too close to me, shining his thirty two.

"You're one handsome man. I wouldn't mind a buff daddy for the night."

I rolled my eyes.

I wasn't here for all these.

Only to drink.

I shook my head.

"I'd rather be left alone."

"Oh—"

He stepped back.

There was something about the dark glint sitting in his dubious eyes.

The shine made him feel like a threat.

My stomach tightened.

"My bad. Carry on," he continued as he gestured to my drink with his hand.

I didn't turn back as he left.

The fifth drink which I had just ordered before the stranger came was lifted.

I was already halfway through the liquid when I realized that it had a weird taste.

I set the glass down hard.

Something was wrong.

But by then it was too late.

A strange heat started to spread swiftly through my body via my blood vessels.

The warmth climbed down from my chest and deep down into my gut.

My pulse increased.

"Well, well."

I glanced to the side and saw that it was the eerie stranger from before.

His smirk was too wide.

“You look tense,” he murmured as he began to brush himself against me.

A hot flash hit me when I tried to move.

"Stay still," he leaned in close to whisper as one of his hands slid onto my thigh.

My eyes widened.

My body instantly reacted to his touch.

Heat travelled downwards to a certain spot.

I caught his wrist, squeezing hard.

“Don’t.”

My voice was stern.

But I heard a slight tremor in it.

He chuckled.

"Sure about that?" He asked. "I mean you clearly want me," he added.

I followed his line of sight to my now hard cock straining against my fly.

The dick was hard and aching, engorging faster than it should have been.

My head began to swim.

"Let me take care of that for you, a buff daddy for the night?"

Something in his words and his eyes caused everything to finally dawn unto me.

The bastard had spiked my drink.

He must have slipped some kind of aphrodisiac into the glass when he came to the counter before without a doubt.

"I know you'll fuck me so good," he moaned as his hands came to cup my prick.

Fury consumed me.

"Fuck off!" I bellowed, slapping his hands away and standing abruptly.

Heads turned to look at us.

But he didn't mind.

"Come here," he started to reach for me.

I sidestepped him with a hiss and began to slowly move away from him.

But he was persistent.

He followed after me and tried to guide me toward the bathroom.

Perhaps for a quickie.

One I didn't want.

My head was pounding greatly while he was whispering useless filth in my ear.

For a moment I almost gave in.

The drug was screaming at me to let go, to grab him and fuck him to nothing.

But I didn't want to stop fighting.

I couldn't do that.

My vision blurred.

His lips brushed my neck.

"I said NO!"

I shoved him off me.

The push was harder than I meant to and he stumbled into wall mirrors.

He yelped as his head cracked one behind him, glasses shattering around him.

I didn’t stay to watch.

My body was too on fire for that and my restraint was waning with every step.

I would need a man.

But it couldn't be that stranger.

I couldn't give him what he wanted.

I would find someone else.

My type.

The toilet didn't help me.

Neither did the night air.

It didn't do anything to cool me down.

Nothing could.

The world tilted before my eyes.

I headed back to the bar for my jacket.

My body yearned for release as my cock throbbed painfully inside my pants.

And I hated it.

I hated how weak it made me feel.

I needed something.

Someone.

Anything to anchor me before I would finally tear my helpless self apart.

That was when I stumbled into the wrong part of the bar in my sexual haze.

Or maybe the right part.

This was a private area which had doors that were left wide open.

The music here was different.

Deeper.

Sensual.

And a quick glance around informed me that it was a masquerade party.

The bodies moving on the dance floor had faces covered in paint, masks or glitter.

The atmosphere was tense.

Suddenly, my skin prickled.

The hair at the back of my neck stood on end as I felt eyes on me.

I turned around.

That's when I saw him.

A man in a black mask.

Full face mask.

He was standing off to the side and just watching me without moving.

Something in his slim confident posture struck me as familiar.

I quirked a brow.

He broke into a smile at the gesture, tilting his head a little to the side.

He stared like he knew me.

There was something familiar in that pointed nose and chiseled jawline.

But I couldn't pin point it cause the drug was fogging my thoughts.

It was too much to place.

I was about to turn away when he took a step towards me without hesitation.

My body stilled.

Electricity cackled in the air between us as he approached me with lazy strides.

I waited for him to reach me.

"Looking for a fuck?" He asked.

I grabbed his arm.

Maybe harder than I should have.

But I needed the touch no doubt.

“Don’t play games,” I snapped.

My voice came out rough.

“You don’t look so good,” he said softly.

His hands reached for my balls, cupping it.

My cock jerked painfully.

"Stop," I growled.

He leaned in.

My heart rate skyrocketed because he was close enough for me to smell him.

He smelt good—that sweet scent of sweat mixed with masculine musk.

“Either get away from me, or—”

He didn’t flinch.

“Or what?”

My gaze rounded.

Then realization hit me.

He wanted me.

That was all it took.

The last thread of my restraint snapped as I slammed him against the wall.

My right hand gripped his neck as the other pinned his wrists above his head.

He gasped.

My breath grew ragged as I pressed my bigger body against his.

"Fuck—"He uttered when I ground my heavy erection against his stomach.

"You want this?" I demanded.

He moaned softly.

"Yes, deep inside of me, thrusting me into the bed as I scream like a slut."

Blood roared in my ears.

“You don’t know what you are asking for,” I growled.

His lips curved into a smile.

“I think I do.”

And then I kissed him.