Professor 's Rules

His hands were still on my waist when something in him finally broke.

Derek shoved me backward until the edge of the desk hit the backs of my thighs. One hand stayed locked on my hip firmly it almost hurt, the other fisted in my hair and yanked my head back so hard my neck arched. His mouth crashed onto mine, his tongue pouring into mine, was wet, messy 'n rough. He kissed like he was trying to punish the words right out of me. Tongue pushing deep, teeth scraping my bottom lip, breathing hard through his nose while he took what he wanted from my mouth. I moaned into it and he swallowed every moan out anyways, and my hands came up on pure instinct, sliding over his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

The second I touched him he tore his mouth away.

He caught both my wrists in one hand and slammed them down onto the desk behind me. The wood was cold under my palms.

His face was right above mine, eyes dark and jaw tight.

“No,” he said, his voice rough. “You don’t touch me. Hands stay where I put them. You take what I give you. Nothing else.”

He held my wrists there until I stopped trying to pull free. Only then did he let go, but the warning stayed in his eyes.

He grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it up and off in one rough motion. Cool air hit my bare tits. He stared for a second, then dropped his head and bit down on my left nipple hard enough that the sting made me cry out. He sucked it into his mouth right after, tongue working the sore peak while his other hand twisted and pinched the right one. He switched sides without warning, biting, sucking, leaving wet, aching marks. Every time I tried to lift my hands he stopped completely and waited until I put them back on the desk.

When he was satisfied with the state of my nipples he spun me around and bent me over the desk. One big hand spread my ass open. I felt his breath first, hot against my skin, then his tongue dragging slowly from my soaked cunt all the way up to my hole. He licked me there with long, deliberate strokes, wet 'n greedy, before pushing his tongue inside. The sensation made my knees buckle. He held my hips still and kept going, eating my ass while I dripped down my own thighs, the wet sounds were very obscene in the quiet classroom.

He flipped me onto my back again like I weighed nothing, shoved my legs wide apart, and buried his face between them. His mouth found my clit immediately. He sucked it hard and strong, rhythmic pulls that made my hips jerk—then switched to quick, mean flicks of his tongue that kept the pressure building without ever letting it break. Every time my thighs started to shake he pinned them open wider. I couldn't hold it back anymore I held his head firm for support--gripping his hair desperately, support against this pleasure attack. Biting my lips👄 not to moan too loud. But still came out loud anyways.

When I was gasping and right on the edge he scraped his teeth over my clit in a controlled, sharp bite. The jolt shot straight up my spine and brain. I cried out and tried to close my legs but he forced them back open with his strong hands and did it again, sucking harder afterward like he was rewarding himself for making me flinch.

I was soaked. And dripping. Boobs sour and pussy gaping. The desk under my ass was wet. My cunt clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled. He pushed two thick fingers inside me and curled them while he kept working my clit with his mouth. The combination pushed me right to the brink of squirting—I felt the pressure build low and intense, my walls fluttering—

He pulled away completely.

I made a broken, frustrated sound. He ignored it. He stood up, freed his cock, which was magnificent, thick, hard, already leaking at the pink tip—and dragged the head through my folds, coating himself in my wetness.

He lined up and shoved in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

I cried out for 2 second. Before he closed my mouth with a palm.

The stretch burned bad and he didn’t give me time to adjust. He fucked me hard and fast, hips slamming against mine, the desk scraping across the floor with every stroke like it's about to break. One hand stayed on my throat—not choking, just holding me down, down were he wants me—while the other kept one of my wrists pinned above my head. It was short, sharp, and relentless.

He angled deeper and I felt myself starting to gush around him, the orgasm rising fast and uncontrollable—

He pulled out.

I sobbed. Actual tears stung my eyes. He stroked himself twice, stepped in close, and ordered, “Open.”

I did. He pushed his thick and soaked cock into my unused mouth and came hard into it, his cum was thick, hot pulses, that hit the back of my throat with impact. Like his juice couldn't wait till it's out.

I swallowed because he didn’t give me a choice, eyes watering while he watched every second of it, holding my head in place until he was finished. Dark eyes locked on mine

When he stepped back he was already tucking himself away like nothing had happened. I was still spread on the desk, shaking, cunt dripping onto the wood, nipples dark and aching, orgasm ripped away at the last possible second.

“Please,” I whispered. My voice cracked. “Derek—Dad—please finish it. I’m so close—

I NEED MORE DADDY”

He picked up his bag, smoothed his shirt, and looked at me with the same calm expression he’d worn all through class.

“Go home, Cynthia.”

I sat up on unsteady legs and reached for him one more time. He was already at the door.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The door clicked shut behind him. I stayed there for a long minute, naked and throbbing and denied, the taste of him still on my tongue, before I forced myself to get dressed. My shirt stuck to the wet marks on my tits. My jeans felt rough against my swollen, neglected cunt. Every step down the hallway reminded me how close I’d been.

I drove home on autopilot, hands tight on the wheel, still aching between my legs. The house was quiet when I stepped inside. I went straight to my room, needing to lock the door and finish what he’d started with my own fingers.

I opened the door and stopped cold.

Tyler was already there.

Completely naked. Hard. Cock thick and flushed against his stomach, the head already wet. On the bed beside him lay a coil of rope, a thick leather belt, a black blindfold, and what looked like a small riding crop. His eyes were dark with lust and hunger, locked on me like he’d been waiting the whole time.

He looked at my messy hair, the bite marks on my neck and chest, the way I was still shaking, and his mouth curved into a slow, dangerous smile.

“You looked like you've been fucked halfway,” he said quietly with a dark tone and eyes. “My turn.”