Chapter One: My Professor

(Nathan's POV)

I stepped into Professor Hale's office after hours of waiting, the door clicking shut behind me like a secret sealed. The room smelled of old books and his cologne. He sat behind his desk, sleeves rolled up to reveal a veined, tattooed forearm. His dark hair tousled, those piercing hazel eyes locking onto me.

“Nathaniel Laurent, lock the door,” he said, voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down my spine.

I obeyed, heart pounding. I'd fantasized about this for months… his broad shoulders, the way his shirts hugged his chest, that authoritative presence that made my cock twitch in class.

He stood up, suddenly towering over me, and circled like a predator.

“You've been staring,” he murmured, fingers tilting my chin up. “Want to taste what you've been dreaming about?” My mouth went dry, but I nodded, dropping to my knees on the worn carpet.

He unzipped his pants, pulling out his thick cock; veined, heavy, already half-hard and leaking at the tip. I leaned in, lips parting to wrap around the head, tongue swirling over the salty slit. He groaned, hand fisting my hair, guiding me deeper.

“Suck it, boy,” he ordered, hips bucking slightly. I hollowed my cheeks, taking more of him, the girth stretching my jaw. Saliva dripped down my chin as I bobbed, tongue pressing along the underside, tracing every ridge. His cock throbbed against my palate, growing fully erect, filling my mouth until I gagged softly. He didn't let up, thrusting shallowly, fucking my face with controlled power.

“Good. Take it all. Show me how much you want this grade... or is it me you want?” I moaned around him, the vibration making him curse, his free hand gripping the desk edge.

I worked him faster, one hand stroking the base while my lips slid up and down, sucking hard on the upstroke. I've never sucked dick before. I've had mine sucked multiple times, it's like a daily routine for me, there's always a girl or a guy to suck me off. I'm the school’s most loved fuck boy. I get to fuck, not get fucked. But for professor Hale? I'm willing to become the hole instead of the peg.

Precum coated my tongue, saltily bitter and addictive. He praised me between grunts— “Fuck, your mouth is perfect, you're so eager.”

My own cock strained against my jeans, aching, but I focused on him, hollowing deeper, nose brushing his trimmed pubes as I deepthroated. He held me there, balls tight against my chin, before pulling back, strings of spit connecting us.

“Up,” he commanded, hauling me to my feet. My legs wobbled as he spun me around, bending me over the desk. Papers scattered, but neither of us cared, his hands yanked my pants down, exposing my ass.

Cool air hit my skin, then his fingers spread my cheeks. “Look at you, hole clenching for me.” He spat on it, rubbing the wetness in before pressing a finger inside. I gasped, pushing back as he added a second, scissoring roughly, prepping me with no mercy.

“Please, Professor, fuck me,” I begged, voice muffled against the wooden desk. He chuckled, withdrawing to line up his slick cock. The head nudged my rim, then he thrust in… raw, burning stretch that made me cry out. Inch by inch, he buried himself, balls-deep in one go, filling me completely.

“Tight as hell,” he growled, hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He pulled out slowly, then slammed back, setting a brutal rhythm. The desk creaked under us, my body jolting with each pound.

His cock dragged over my prostate, sparks exploding behind my eyes. I moaned loudly, fisting the desk edges as he railed me; deep, punishing strokes that slapped skin on skin.

“Take it, your slutty ass was made for this.”

Sweat slicked our bodies; he leaned over, chest to my back, one hand snaking around to jerk my cock in time with his thrusts. Pleasure built fast, coiling tight in my gut.

“I'm gonna cum… fill you up,” he panted, pace faltering.

But he pulled out suddenly, pulling me down from the desk and spinning me to my knees again.

“Open,” he rasped. I did, tongue out, as he stroked himself furiously. Hot ropes of cum splattered my face; across my cheeks, lips, dripping into my mouth. Salty, thick, marking me as his cum slut…

Suddenly, cold water hit my face like a slap. I jolted awake, sputtering, sheets tangled around my legs.

My roommate, Kelly, stood over me with an empty glass, grinning sheepishly.

“Dude, you were moaning in your sleep. I thought you were dying or something. Bad dream?”

I wiped my face, cheeks burning, my cock rock hard under the blanket. “Yeah... something like that.” Professor Hale's taste weirdly remained on my tongue.

The image of the office faded, but the ache lingered… I can feel my hole fluttering. Aching for my Professor. It felt so real the way he was pounding me silly. I want that. I want him fucking me into oblivion. I'm horny and I want my Professor to fill me up.

“Get up, Nathan, we're gonna be late. You know your favorite professor schedules his classes early, I hate him.” Kelly said, ranting on and on about how professor Hale's class sucks and shouldn't be set early all the damn time.

Personally, I hate attending any class at all. But professor Hale's class is mainly sex Ed, and something else he teaches but I don't pay attention to, I love his sex Ed class. I get to ask questions and tease him even though his stoic ass won't let him respond.

“Are you getting up, or hangover has you beat?” Kelly asked, waving his hands over my face like I can't see.

“Hangover got nothing on me, get off my face.” I grunted as I sat up.

“Why do you have a boner?” Kelly teased, “the fuck boy gets laid even in his dream?”

I rolled my eyes, “people with functioning dicks get morning erection but you wouldn't know that because your thing is not functioning.”

“What did you just say to me? I function very well.”

“Kelly, get out of my room.”

“Fine, I'll go. But hurry up and get ready,” Kelly said, stepping away with backward steps. “You know coming in late to professor Hale's class is hell. I'd rather miss than come in late.”

I know. But I love coming in late. Because that's the only way to get him to stare at me with those hazel eyes, and demand reasons for coming in late with that thick voice.