My professor and I

“What the fuck is happening here? Miss Lily, what are you doing in my office?”

His voice was sharp, deep, laced with restrained fury, and something darker. His eyes dropped, trailing over the flushed line of my body to the discarded panties on the floor.

Oh my God. This is crazy. This is insane.

I froze, caught mid-thought, mid-heat, still perched on his desk, skirt bunched around my waist, my skin flushed and soaked with need.

“Professor… I know there’s absolutely nothing I can say to defend myself,” I began, my voice trembling. “But it’s really not what you think.”

His gaze burned into mine.

“No,” he said, voice low and tight. “There’s nothing you can say.”

And yet, he didn’t move. His eyes, stormy, conflicted, and hungry raked over me again, slower this time, like he was trying not to want what was right in front of him.

In that moment, I knew I had him exactly where I wanted him.

“Professor Collins,” I murmured, rising slowly, confidently now. “I just… I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About what it would feel like to touch my pussy while imagining your hands on me.”

I stepped toward him, the forgotten fate of my panties irrelevant now. “And I know you want me too.”

His jaw tightened.

“This could get you in trouble. It could get me in trouble. I could lose my license.”

His voice was forceful like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

But the bulge straining against his trousers betrayed him. His body already made the choice for him.

“And that’s why you locked the door, Professor,” I whispered, heat in my voice. “If you don’t tell, I won’t tell.”

“You’re so young,” he breathed, almost to himself.

“I’m way above the legal age, and I give you my consent, Professor Collins.” I stared up at him, lips parted, voice thick with desire. “My pussy drips for you. Please take it.”

He stepped back as I closed the distance.

“You don’t understand… you’re too innocent for me. You should walk out of here and never look back.”

I smiled, dark and knowing. “I’m not innocent. And you don’t have to worry about breaking me, Professor.”

Then I dropped to my knees.

My fingers found the zipper of his slacks, my hand brushing past his cock, already thick and hard. It twitched at my touch, straining against the fabric.

He still didn’t stop me.

I eased the zipper down and reached in, pulling his cock free, thick and heavy and flushed. Precum glistened at the tip. I leaned in and licked it slowly, swirling my tongue around the crown. Tasting him. Salty. Sweet. Raw masculine perfection.

I moaned softly. Then I took him into my mouth.

One hand on each knee, I relaxed my throat, lips sealing around his girth. I took half of him in, then pulled back, cheeks hollowing with suction. My tongue flattened along the underside of his shaft, teasing every sensitive inch.

He groaned. Still not touching me. Still letting me take control.

So I gave him everything I had.

I began to bob my head, faster, deeper, the lewd sounds of my mouth working his cock filling the room. His hips started to move subtly in response. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and wet and begging.

“Fuck,” he growled above me, voice strained.

And then he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

He pushed deeper, slowly at first. Testing my limits.

But when I didn’t stop him, when I opened wider for him, he took more.

His hips began to thrust. He fucked my mouth with slow, deliberate strokes, groaning with each one. My throat adjusted to him, tears prickling the corners of my eyes, spit dripping down my chin.

I was a mess. And I didn’t care.

The rougher he got, the wetter I became. My pussy ached, slick and throbbing between my legs, juices dripping onto my thighs as I moaned around his cock.

“I warned you, Lily,” he growled, now holding my head firmly as he moved faster.

His cock forced deeper into my throat. I gagged, but I didn’t pull away. I welcomed it. I loved that he couldn’t control himself around me. That I made him unravel.

He held me there for a moment, cock buried in my throat. My lungs burned. My pussy clenched.

“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he said, voice harsh. “And you’re going to swallow every drop like a good girl.”

I nodded desperately. I hadn’t swallowed cum before, but I needed to obey him. I craved his approval.

He grunted, hips stuttering, and then I felt it—his cock pulsing on my tongue as he spilled into my mouth. Thick, hot, salty ropes of cum coated my tongue and throat.

I swallowed greedily, licking him clean, even as his body trembled under my touch.

“Fuck…” he hissed, panting. “Come here, you little beast.”

He stepped back, clearing his desk with a sweep of his hand. Papers and pens scattered.

“Spread that pretty little pussy open for me.”

I climbed onto the desk, laying back like a good slut, legs wide, glistening, and soaked for him.

He stared for a beat. Hungry. Unreadable. Then he bent down between my thighs.

His tongue licked a slow, deliberate line from the base of my pussy up to my swollen clit, and then he sucked, hard.

I cried out, thighs trembling.

Nothing I’d ever read or seen could have prepared me for how that felt.

“You like that, don’t you, Lily?” he murmured between licks, his hands parting my pussy lips. He tugged gently at my inner lips with his teeth. I gasped.

“Hnnn. . . yes.”

“Use your words.” He looked up, his lips wet with my arousal. “Tell me what you like.”

I whimpered. “I want you to fuck me harder with your tongue. Please, Professor.”

His eyes darkened.

“That’s a good girl.”

He dove back in, tongue circling and flicking over my clit while his hands gripped my thighs. He held me open, devouring me like he hadn’t eaten in days.

My legs tried to close, but he growled.

“Keep your legs spread, Lily.”

And then he pushed a finger into my pussy.

I gasped—then moaned—hips arching off the desk.

He didn’t stop licking my clit.

“Please,” I begged, grinding against his face. “Another finger. Please.”

He raised his head just long enough to tap my pussy sharply with two fingers. A firm slap that made my entire body shudder.

“You want it all, don’t you?” he rasped.

“Yes, yes, please…”

He slid a second finger inside me and began to thrust—deep, fast, curling perfectly against my walls while his mouth returned to my clit.

Pleasure ricocheted through my body, my mind empty except for sensation. My hips moved against him in a wild rhythm, his fingers pounding into me, tongue relentless.

I screamed as the orgasm tore through me, long, hard, and dizzying. I nearly blacked out.

“Oh fuck! Professor Collins!” I lay there panting, trembling.

And then I whispered, breathless and definitely ruined. . . “Please fuck me now…”

He didn’t answer with words, he simply grabbed me, flipped me onto my stomach, and pulled my hips up.

And then. . . he fucked me like the beast he truly was beneath that cold, controlled facade.