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Chapter 215: The Professor III
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2026-08-13 06:35:16
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Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 216: The Professor IV
I glanced at James. He was looking at papers on his desk, expression neutral."I'm very grateful for his guidance.""Yes. Well, we wanted to ensure that the working relationship was professional and appropriate. Graduate students sometimes form unhealthy attachments to their advisors. We wanted to check in."My heart was pounding so hard I was sure she could see it."Everything has been entirely professional," I said. It was the truth. Everything that happened in his office was consensual. Chosen. Even if it wasn't professional by any conventional standard.Dr. Voss studied me for a moment. "Well. Continue on. You're on track for a strong dissertation, Emily. Well done."I left the office with my legs shaking.That evening at six o'clock I knocked on his door. When he opened it he looked perfectly calm."You were tested today," he said. "And you passed. You did not betray what we have. That matters.""I was terrified.""I know. Fear will come again. There will be people who suspect. T
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 215: The Professor III
"You are so wet," he said, voice almost conversational. "Is this what you wanted? To be fucked by your advisor at his desk? To have him use your body while you are bent over your own thesis?"I made a sound that might have been yes."I cannot hear you.""Yes," I gasped. "Yes, I wanted this.""You are going to come for me now. I did not give permission, but your body is going to respond to mine. You will come while I am inside you, and you will be quiet about it. Understood?""Yes—"My orgasm started building immediately. The combination of the thickness inside me, his steady thrusts, his hand on my back holding me in place—all of it targeted at the deepest parts of me. My cunt began to clench. Every muscle in my body went tight.He kept the same rhythm, relentless, and I came silently—mouth open, eyes squeezed shut, body trembling under his hand. He fucked me through it without stopping, without slowing, prolonging the orgasm until I was oversensitive and gasping.Only then did he inc
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 214: The Professor II
"You should go home," he said. His voice was rough. "It's late."I turned to face him. We were close enough to touch. Close enough that I could see the tension in his jaw."I don't want to."His eyes were dark. "You are my graduate student. I am your advisor. This crosses every professional boundary that exists.""I know.""If I touch you the way I want to, there are consequences. For your degree. For your career. I would never use that power to coerce you, but the power itself exists. Do you understand?""Yes.""Then tell me to stop. Now. While you can still walk out of here and pretend this didn't happen."I stepped closer instead of away. "What if I don't want to pretend?"He closed his eyes. When he opened them again the control had cracked."Go to the door and lock it."I did. When I turned back he was still standing by his desk, watching me."Come here."I crossed the small space between us. He reached out, gripped my jaw gently with one hand, and tilted my face up toward his. F
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 213:THE PROFESSOR
The first time I came to his office hours I was terrified of being torn apart.Dr. James Kessler was known for two things: his groundbreaking work in narrative theory and his absolute refusal to accept mediocrity from his graduate students. At forty-nine he still published constantly, still taught seminars that were impossible to get into, still maintained an office in the oldest part of campus where students either emerged transformed or withdrew from the program entirely. My thesis advisor. The man who could make or break whether my doctoral work ever saw light.I had drafted forty pages. I had revised them eight times. I had read every citation, checked every footnote, convinced myself they were ready.I was wrong."This is sloppy," he said, not looking up from the pages. His office was sparse—dark wood desk, floor-to-ceiling books, one window that looked out onto the quad. October light slanted across the papers between us. "Your argument here—" he tapped a red-marked paragraph wi
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 212: The Painter V
When the last wave faded he withdrew his hand, wiped it on the rag, and stood.“Better,” he said. “The color in your chest is useful. We’ll continue tomorrow.”I lay there for a long moment after he returned to the easel, still open, still twitching, the drop cloth beneath me wet with my own release. Something in me had shifted. I no longer felt like a model being paid. I felt like material he was shaping.---The sessions grew longer. The rules grew stricter.He began requiring me to arrive already shaved smooth. He began inspecting me at the start of each day—fingers spreading me, checking that I was clean, that I was already showing signs of arousal. If I was not wet enough he would touch me until I was, then leave me aching while he painted. If I was too wet he would comment on it as a technical problem and make me wait in the difficult pose until the excess subsided.One afternoon he had me on my hands and knees on the platform, back arched, head down. He painted for over an hour
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 211: The Painter IV
I began arriving at the studio already half-aroused. The walk up the four flights of stairs was enough to start the process. By the time I stepped out from behind the screen I could already feel the first soft swell between my legs. He noticed. Of course he noticed. He began incorporating it into the work without ever naming what he was doing.Two weeks after the day he had first touched me, he gave the first direct order that had nothing to do with posing.I had been standing for over an hour. My shoulders were burning. He set the palette down, wiped his hands on a rag, and looked at me for a long moment.“Lie down on the drop cloth,” he said. “On your back. Knees bent. Feet flat on the floor. Spread them.”My heart slammed against my ribs. I stepped off the platform and lowered myself onto the paint-stained cloth that covered most of the studio floor. The material was rough against my bare back and ass. I bent my knees, planted my feet, and opened my thighs. The cool air of the stud
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 1. The Art of Negotiation I
I stared at the contract on my desk like it was a live grenade.Three months. That's all I had left before my lease at the gallery expired, and Marcus Chen—my landlord, my nemesis, and unfortunately the most attractive man I'd ever had the misfortune of despising—knew it.The new terms sat there in
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 5: Room Service
The conference was a disaster.Not the professional kind—my presentation on sustainable hotel management had gone fine, thank you very much. No, this was a personal disaster. The kind that involved walking in on your boyfriend of three years with his tongue down a cocktail waitress's throat in the
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 4: The Art of Negotiation IV
Then his mouth was on my breast and I stopped thinking entirely.His tongue swirled around my hard nipple before he sucked it deep into his hot mouth, sucking hard and greedy.I cried out, back arching sharply as pleasure shot straight to my clit.He groaned against my tit, the vibration making my
Wet Dreams: The Ultimate Steamy Short Stories Collection Chapter 2: The Art of Negotiation II
The Next EveningThe Chen Holdings building towered over downtown like a glass monument to obscene wealth. I'd been inside exactly twice before—once for the initial lease signing, once when a pipe burst in the gallery and I'd needed emergency approval for repairs.Both times, I'd felt like a peasan
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