Strict Professor: 1

After-Hours Temptation💦🫦

"Emily, close the door and lock it."

Professor Black's voice filled the empty lecture hall, low and commanding. I stood frozen in the doorway, my backpack still slung over one shoulder, heart slamming against my ribs. The rest of the class had left twenty minutes ago after he asked me to stay behind to discuss my latest paper. Now the room felt too quiet, the lights dimmed low except for the one over his desk at the front.

I swallowed hard. "Professor, I really should get back to the dorm. It's getting late."

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest, dark hair neatly styled but with that one stubborn strand falling over his forehead. Late thirties, sharp jaw, always in crisp button-downs that hugged his shoulders. Everyone called him strict for a reason. No excuses, no second chances. Until tonight.

"Lock it," he repeated, eyes never leaving mine. "Now."

My fingers trembled as I turned the lock. The click sounded way too loud. I walked down the aisle toward his desk, heels echoing on the tile floor. "Is there something wrong with my paper? I thought I followed all the guidelines."

He stood up slowly, taller than I remembered in this empty space. "Your paper was excellent. Too excellent. Made me wonder how much time you actually spent thinking about the material... or about me."

My cheeks burned. "That's not... I don't know what you mean."

"Bullshit." He rounded the desk and stopped right in front of me, close enough that I caught the faint scent of his cologne. "You've been staring at me during every lecture for weeks. Sitting in the front row with those big innocent eyes, crossing and uncrossing your legs under the desk. You think I didn't notice?"

I backed up until my ass hit the edge of his desk. "Professor Black, this is inappropriate. You're my teacher."

"Call me Marcus when we're alone." His hand came up, tilting my chin so I had to look at him. "And yes, it's inappropriate. That's why your pussy is probably already wet just from me saying it."

I gasped, trying to pull away, but his grip stayed firm yet gentle. "You can't talk to me like that."

"Can't I?" He stepped closer, his thigh pressing between mine, parting them slightly. "Tell me to stop then. Say it clearly, Emily. Tell me you don't want my hands on you."

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, a shaky breath escaped. His other hand slid down my side, over my skirt, then underneath, fingertips brushing the edge of my panties.

"Already soaked," he murmured, voice rough with satisfaction. "Just like I thought, good girls like you always get wet for what they shouldn't want."

"Marcus," I whispered, using his first name for the first time. It felt dangerous. "Someone could still be in the building. What if a janitor comes by?"

"Then you'll have to stay quiet." He pushed my skirt higher and slipped his fingers under the fabric, stroking me through the thin material. "Or maybe you want them to hear how pretty you sound when I touch you."

I grabbed his wrist, but not to push him away. My hips moved on their own, seeking more pressure. "This is crazy. I'm going to lose my scholarship if anyone finds out."

"You won't tell anyone." He leaned in, lips brushing my ear. "And neither will I. Now spread your legs wider and let me see how much you need this."

I did it. God help me, I parted my thighs right there against his desk. He pulled my panties aside and pushed two thick fingers inside me without warning. I moaned, biting my lip hard to cut it off.

"Fuck, so tight," he groaned, pumping them slowly, curling them just right. "You've been thinking about this during my lectures, haven't you? Sitting there taking notes while imagining my cock instead of my voice."

"Yes," I admitted, voice breaking as pleasure sparked through me. "I shouldn't, but I do. Every class."

He smiled, dark and pleased, and added a third finger, stretching me. "Good girl for telling the truth. Now unbutton your blouse. I want to see those tits you've been hiding under those proper sweaters."

My hands moved before my brain caught up. I undid the buttons one by one, revealing my bra. He didn't wait. He tugged the cups down with his free hand, exposing me, then leaned down and sucked one nipple into his mouth hard.

"Oh God," I whimpered, arching into him. His fingers kept working between my legs, thumb circling my clit. The dual sensation made my head spin. "Marcus, please... slower. I can't stay quiet."

"You will." He switched to the other nipple, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue. "Or I'll bend you over this desk and fuck you right now with the door unlocked."

The threat sent a fresh rush of wetness over his hand. He noticed and chuckled against my skin. "You like that idea, filthy little student."

I reached for his belt, fingers fumbling with the buckle. "I need more, please."

He straightened up, watching me struggle with his pants. "Beg properly, tell me exactly what you want from your professor."

"I want your cock," I whispered, finally getting his zipper down. His length sprang free, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking slowly. "I want you to fuck me on your desk. Please, Marcus."

He groaned and kissed me then, deep and hungry, tongue claiming my mouth while his fingers kept thrusting. The kiss broke and he pulled his hand free, bringing his glistening fingers to my lips. "Taste yourself first."

I sucked them clean, eyes locked on his. The taste made me blush harder, but I didn't stop. He watched with that intense stare, jaw tight.

"Turn around. Hands on the desk."

I spun and bent over, skirt flipped up, ass exposed. He kicked my feet wider apart and rubbed his cock along my folds, teasing.

"Last chance to say no," he said, voice strained. "Once I’m inside you, there's no going back."

"I don't want to say no," I breathed, pushing back against him. "Just do it. Fuck me."

He thrust in deep on the first stroke, burying himself completely. I cried out, the stretch intense and perfect. He clamped a hand over my mouth from behind. "Quiet, baby. Take every inch like the good girl you are in class."

He started moving, hard and steady, the desk creaking under us. Each thrust pushed me forward, my breasts bouncing against the wood. "Feels so good," I mumbled against his palm. "You're so big."

"Yeah? Your strict professor stretching this tight student pussy?" He slammed in harder, hand sliding down to rub my clit. "Say it."

"You're my professor," I gasped when he let me speak for a second. "And you're fucking me so deep on your desk."

The words made him growl. He picked up speed, skin slapping skin echoing in the empty hall. I gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, trying not to moan too loud.

"Someone's coming down the hall," he suddenly whispered, slowing but not stopping. Footsteps echoed faintly outside. "Don't you dare make a sound."

Panic and excitement mixed as the footsteps got closer. He kept thrusting, shallow now but still hitting that perfect spot. I bit my arm to stay silent, tears of pleasure pricking my eyes.

The footsteps passed. He rewarded me by pounding harder. "Good girl. Now come for me. Come all over your professor's cock."

I shattered, clenching around him, body shaking as the orgasm ripped through me. He followed right after, burying himself deep and filling me with hot pulses.

We stayed like that for a moment, breathing ragged. He pulled out slowly, watching the mess drip down my thighs. Then he turned me around and kissed me again, softer this time.

"Clean yourself up a bit," he murmured, handing me some tissues from his drawer. "But don't think we're done."

I wiped quickly, legs still shaky. "What if someone saw us through the window?"

"They didn't." He tucked himself away and straightened his shirt, looking composed again except for the heat in his eyes. "But next time, my office. Tonight. Nine o'clock sharp. Don't be late."

I nodded, buttoning my blouse with trembling fingers. "I'll be there."

As I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, he called out one last time. "Emily?"

I turned. He held up my panties, which he'd clearly pocketed. A slow smile spread across his face.

"You won't be needing these anymore."

My face burned as I slipped out into the hallway, body still buzzing, already counting the minutes until nine.

But as I rounded the corner toward the exit, I nearly collided with another student. Sarah, from my class, who lived in my dorm. She gave me a weird look.

"Everything okay? You were in there for a long time. Professor Black seemed pissed about your paper."

I forced a smile. "Yeah, just some revisions. No big deal."

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I walked away with her. A text from an unknown number.

*My office. Don't make me come find you, little miss. - M*

I glanced back toward the lecture hall, pulse racing again.