LOGIN
When I woke up this morning, I thought I knew what I was walking into. But that didn’t stop the nerves from tangling in my stomach like a tight, twisting knot. The first-day jitters hit me harder than expected, like a gust of wind whipping wild beneath my skin, cold and anxious and electric.
I wasn’t even sure I was in the right room. The paper in my hand filled with instructions and classroom numbers, said I was. But no one else had arrived yet. The lecture hall stood empty and echoing, giving me too much time to overthink. I slid into a seat at the very back, hoping to stay out of sight. If I didn’t make eye contact, or didn’t speak to anyone, maybe I could just observe, learn how things worked before being noticed. The silence wrapped around me like a blanket… but not a warm one. More like the hush before a storm. Still, beneath the nerves, something else stirred. Something darker and Hungrier. Maybe it was the tightness between my thighs, the pulse already drumming low in my body before the day had even started. Maybe it was the way I had barely slept last night, too wired, too restless. Whatever it was, I needed a release. A sharp, fast escape. Just one little fantasy to get me through the morning. I clenched my thighs together and waited. The day will be over soon.. The door burst open. A swarm of students poured in like they’d all been waiting for some invisible bell. Laughter, voices, bags hitting desks, chaos filled the air. And then, a voice low, confident, a little too close. “Are you new?” A blonde boy leaned in, his piercing blue eyes flicking across my face like he already knew I was flustered. He was cute objectively but far too young. Too. . . boyish. Not what I craved. “Yes,” I replied. “CSC class.” His grin spread, cocky and playful. “You’re in the wrong room, baby girl. CSC is next door.” My heart dropped. Shit. Now I had to stand up, interrupt everything, and walk out while everyone watched. Regret burned hot across my chest. Why had I chosen the back row? “Maybe I’ll just sit this one out,” I mumbled. He laughed. “I wouldn’t want a beautiful girl like you slipping through my fingers, but I don’t think you want to miss Professor Collins’ class. Especially not on your first day.” He winked. I barely heard the rest. Professor Collins. That name echoed in my head like a warning, or a promise. I muttered a quick thank you and practically fled. The next lecture hall looked nearly identical. Not my fault, I told myself. Anyone could’ve made the mistake. But as soon as I opened the door, all eyes turned to me. And just like that, I froze. Too many faces. Too much attention. Without thinking, I shut the door again. Breathed. Reopened it slower. And stepped in. This time, I was painfully aware of everything: the way my short black skirt clung to my thighs, how bare my legs were, how the tan top under my ripped jacket dipped just a little too low. I’d dressed to feel confident, but now, I felt exposed. Stripped bare. “I’m sorry, sir,” I whispered to the man at the front of the room. “I walked into the wrong classroom.” He didn’t look at me right away, but when he spoke, his voice rippled through the room. Deep. Authoritative. Smooth like whiskey. “Find a seat, Miss…?” “Lily,” I replied, barely louder than a breath. “Miss Lily. Sit and see me in my office after class.” That made me look up, really look up at him. And sweet God. Nothing could’ve prepared me for Professor Collins. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark, fitted lumberjack shirt tucked into slacks that hugged his hips and thighs too well for a man who had no business being that sexy. His hair was a thick golden blonde, cropped close, and his jaw, sharp, unshaven, carved from stone, tightened when he spoke. Even from across the room, I could see the veins in his forearms as he adjusted a folder on the desk. He looked like he belonged in a fantasy. My fantasy. And based on the heat in my cheeks and the flutter in my core, he already was. I sat quickly, heart hammering. The seat I chose placed me directly across from him, close enough to watch, far enough not to draw attention again. I tried not to stare, but it was impossible. As he started lecturing, my eyes locked on his lips. My thoughts… slipped. In my head, I imagined them moving down my neck, over my chest, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his hand teased the other. My thighs clenched. My core pulsed. I tried to focus, but all I could think about was how his hands would feel tangled in my hair, how he might growl my name while pulling me tighter against his chest. God, I was getting wet. In the middle of class. On my first day. My fingers twitched in my lap. I rubbed my thighs together, subtle but desperate. The desk shielded me, but not enough. If I moved too much, someone would notice. If he noticed… Shit. That thought made it worse. I bit my lip, tried to breathe evenly. Tried to stay sane. But every time he turned, every time his shirt stretched across his back or those slacks tightened around his ass, I wanted to slide my hand under my skirt and give myself the relief I was aching for. Then, thank God! A distraction. A girl beside me leaned in with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Lily. Don’t mind Professor Collins, he’s always that grumpy.” Grumpy? I nearly laughed. If she only knew. “Thanks,” I murmured. “I guess I made a bad impression.” “Just grovel a bit in his office. Trust me, you don’t want to be on his bad side.” Her words made my stomach clench, but not with fear. What did she think he would do in that office? What did I want him to do? I packed up quickly after the class, my heartbeat pounding, but before I could ask her name, she’d already disappeared into the crowd. And now, I had to face him. Alone. Behind a closed door. Just me… and the man I couldn’t stop thinking about. My skin tingled as I headed down the hall. The warm, wicked ache between my legs hadn’t faded. If anything, it was worse. Professor Collins was waiting and I was ready to be taught.Emily makes soft moaning almost whimpering sounds as I start to pull back out of her once again leaving just the head inside her. I think about taking one of my hands from underneath her to play with the nipple that my mouth isn’t attached to but I decide against it out of fear of dropping her down on my cock and hurting her. I don’t stop teasing her nipples with my mouth as I again push inside her noticing that it is easier this time like she is starting to get used to my size making me think that soon I'll be able to fuck her properly which I so desperately want to do now.“Go faster.” Emily groans softly taking me by surprise and making me pause with my cock buried deep inside her.“Are you sure?” I ask as I remove my mouth from her breast, I was certain that I was going to be the one asking to speed up so I can’t help the disbelief in my tone.Emily nods her head slowly but clearly letting me know that she is sure about it, I’m that surprised and in awe of her that I lunge forward
I don’t know how to respond to her kiss, if I should push her away or open my mouth and let her tongue that I can feel flick over my lips enter my mouth. My mind is screaming at me to push her away and get myself out of this situation as quickly as I can but my body seems to rebel against my mind and my lips open accepting Emily’s tongue into my mouth. Kissing Emily is strange because I would never think about kissing someone her age like this and I know it should feel wrong and while it does feel wrong it also feels good, in an eating the forbidden fruit kind of way.“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me, no guy can if I really want them.” She informs me while she starts to grind her pussy against my cock as her words make me completely re-evaluate this girl I have known since the day she was born.“I bet you’re trying to guess how many guys I’ve fucked.” She whispers in my ear, her voice becomes even more husky with arousal as she adds, “Why don’t we add you to that list?” “No
Tom has been my best friend since high school and we even stayed best friends after he got married and had a kid, it was through Tom’s wife, Sarah, that I met my own wife, Amy. We have stayed that close over the years that we even go on holiday together as families with me and Amy joining Tom, Sarah, and their daughter Emily, this year we had gone to Spain together. Emily is eighteen and has started developing a banging body, with perfect curves around her.The holiday had been going very well so far and we have enjoyed the week we have already spent here exploring and doing all the things you would expect from tourists and then at night retreating to the two side by side cabins we had rented. Tonight though Amy and myself had decided to stay out a bit later and have a few drinks, all night Amy had teased me, whispering into my ear the things she wanted me to do to her later so by the time we had left the bar I was about ready to tear her clothes off and fuck her in front of everyone
It started with a look, not the subtle kind of look. No, this one was deliberate, a slow, downward drag of his eyes, starting at my face and lingering too long where my tank top dipped low. I knew it when I bent over to pick up their toddler’s toy that had rolled under the couch. I hadn’t worn a bra on purpose. The heat was my excuse, but I wanted him to notice. I really needed him to. Mr. Blackwood, Aaron, was always too polite for his own good. His wife, Genevieve, was even more so. Gorgeous and poised, the kind of woman who made other women feel plain without even trying. Yet every time I came over to babysit, I caught them both watching me. Differently and sometimes even, separately. I was twenty-two, in college, and they paid well. Too well even. It had crossed my mind before, whether they were paying for more than just babysitting. Not directly, of course. But the subtle way she touched my arm when handing me cash, how he lingered at the door pretending to forget his keys, h
“Layla, are you okay?” I hate when someone asks me that question. I really do. Especially when I’m trying so hard to fake that everything is fine. But at 22, I have learned that pretending to be okay doesn’t stop the ache. My ex-boyfriend, after seven years, had left me for someone nearly twice our age. A woman who wore her midlife crisis like perfume and still managed to take him from me. Just thinking about it made my chest sting a lot. So, I did what any emotionally wounded girl would do in the privacy of the bowling alley bathroom, I stared at my reflection, inspecting myself like I might discover something broken. But all I saw was… me. Tight red shorts hugging my hips, a white T-shirt hugging a braless chest, and a body I had once felt confident in, my lips curved bitterly. “He is a complete idiot,” I muttered, wiping the corners of my eyes. I adjusted my shirt and returned to the front counter, pretending to care about the magazine I wasn’t even reading. Then came Si
The tiny package of sexual energy was now naked and she pushed me into a chair in the corner and took off my boots and woolen socks. She then slowly did a graceful handstand and ended up in the splits, I think to let me know she was not out of shape, fat mom, but a hot, vital passionate, and curvy 30-something woman who knew how to please a sex partner!She sat at the edge of the enormous king-size bed, her chubby legs slightly spread, revealing a neatly-trimmed dark black bush that perfectly matched her thick head of hair. She smiled thinly and said a little shakily, “You want some?” pointing down at her pussy, seeming to realize what was about to happen. Getting more confident and thinking I might blow this, I said, “Yes, I’d love to make love to the most beautiful woman to ever take her clothes off in front of me,” remembering the advice my dad had given me years before, about always telling a woman how beautiful they are, all the time.She said, “You are such a bull-shitter—just l







