3 — PRIVATE TUTORING (III)

EMMA

I stood outside the big lecture hall on the third floor with my heart racing so hard it hurt. The hallway was empty and quiet. The clock on the wall said it was a little past four. My dress was simple again, easy to lift, just like he told me. Under it I still wore nothing. I pushed the heavy door open and stepped inside.

Rows and rows of empty desks stared back at me like quiet watchers. The high walls made even my soft footsteps sound loud. The podium stood at the front, dark wood, tall enough that everyone could see whoever stood there. Marcus was already waiting. He leaned against the side of it, arms crossed, watching me walk down the long aisle.

“You came,” he said. His voice carried easily in the big empty space.

“I said I would,” I answered. My voice sounded small.

He pushed off the podium and walked toward me. When he reached me he didn’t kiss me right away. He just looked at my face, then down at my dress.

“Show me,” he said.

My hands shook as I lifted the hem. Cool air touched my bare skin. He made a low sound in his throat.

“Still nothing. Good. Up on the podium. Now.”

He put his hands on my waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing. My bottom landed on the cool wooden surface. The wood felt smooth under my bare skin. He stepped between my legs and pushed them wide open. My knees almost touched the edges. I felt so exposed. Anyone who walked in would see everything.

“Look at those empty seats,” he said, nodding toward the rows. “All of them watching you. Watching me spread you open.” His fingers slid up my inner thighs and found how wet I already was. “You’re dripping again. Did you think about this all day?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I couldn’t stop.”

He opened his pants. His thick cock sprang free, hard and ready. He rubbed the head against my entrance, coating himself in my wetness.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered.

“I want you inside me,” I said, voice shaking. “Please, Prof. Fuck me.”

He pushed in with one deep, hard thrust. The stretch made me cry out. My hands flew to the edges of the podium and gripped tight. He didn’t give me time to adjust. He pulled almost all the way out and drove back in, deep and relentless. Each stroke made the wood creak under me. The wet sound of our bodies echoed faintly off the high walls.

“Quiet,” he growled, even as he fucked me harder. “You don’t want anyone in the hallway to hear, do you?”

I bit my lip and tried to stay quiet, but every thrust forced a soft moan out of me. He held my thighs wide and slammed into me again and again. My head fell back. Pleasure built fast and sharp.

“You’re going to cum for me right here,” he said, voice rough. “On this podium where I stand every day and teach. Cum on my cock while all these empty desks watch.”

His words pushed me over the edge. My whole body clenched hard around him. I tried not to scream, but a broken cry still left my throat. Waves of heat rolled through me. My legs shook. He never slowed down. He kept driving into me through the orgasm, forcing the pleasure to keep going until tears stung my eyes.

“That’s one,” he said. “I’m not done with you.”

He leaned over me, one hand braced beside my head, the other still holding my thigh open. His hips snapped forward harder. The podium rocked. I could feel every thick inch of him dragging against the sensitive spot inside me.

“Please,” I gasped. “It’s too much—”

“No it’s not.” He kissed the side of my neck, then bit lightly. “You’re going to give me another one. Right now.”

His free hand slipped between us and found my clit. He rubbed tight, fast circles while he fucked me deep. The second climax hit even harder than the first. My back arched off the wood. A louder cry tore out of me before I could stop it. My voice cracked. My walls fluttered and squeezed around him so tightly he groaned.

“Fuck, Emma. Listen to you. Breaking already.” He didn’t stop. He kept thrusting, kept rubbing, kept forcing the pleasure higher until a third wave crashed over me. This time my voice broke completely. Only broken sounds came out. Tears ran down the sides of my face into my hair. My fingers ached from gripping the edges so hard.

He watched my face the whole time, eyes dark and hungry. “One more,” he said. “Give me one more and then I’ll fill you up.”

I shook my head weakly, but my body betrayed me. The fourth orgasm ripped through me almost violently. My vision blurred. My legs trembled so hard he had to hold them open. I couldn’t make any real sound anymore, just soft broken whimpers.

Only then did he let himself go. He buried himself as deep as he could and came with a low, satisfied groan. Hot pulses flooded me. I felt every one. He stayed inside me for a long moment, breathing hard, forehead resting against mine.

Slowly he pulled out. I felt empty and messy. Cum leaked from me onto the polished wood of the podium. He looked down at the evidence and made a soft sound of approval.

He helped me sit up. My legs dangled weakly over the edge. He fixed his pants, then cupped my chin and made me look at him.

“The library after hours,” he said, voice low and close to my ear. “Tuesday night. It will be quieter. Darker. And I intend to take something new from you there.”

My heart skipped. “What… what do you mean?”

He smiled, small and dangerous. “You’ll find out when you show up. Be there, Emma.”

He stepped back and helped me off the podium. My dress fell back down, but I could still feel the wetness between my thighs and the ache deep inside me. My legs barely held me as I walked up the long aisle toward the door.