All Chapters of SINFUL DESIRES: THE PROFESSORS I CAN'T RESIST: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My eyes snapped open and the lab faded, the steel table gone. I was in my bed, my sheets tangled around my legs and my body slick with sweat. My cock throbbed, hard and untouched, a wet spot on my boxers. The ringing wasn't stopping and it was my alarm, blasting from the nightstand.“Shit.” I muttered, slapping it off. The room was my tiny dorm, with posters of anatomy charts on the walls and books stacked everywhere. Sunlight streamed through the blinds and it was too bright, too early. Or was I late? I grabbed my phone and checked the time. It was 8:47 AM and class started at 8:30. Professor Rooke's lecture on surgical techniques.I started to panic as I realized that I was late already. I bolted up, ignoring the ache in my groin as the dream clung to me vividly, with Wyatt's rough hands and Bryce's mouth. I shook my head, trying to clear it. “It’s just a stupid dream.” I told myself, but my body didn't listen. My dick still stood at attention, begging for a touch but there was n

I locked the door, then went back to him. He bent me over the desk, his fingers in my hole, slick with lube from his drawer, then his cock, thick and hard, sliding in.He fucked me roughly, his hand over my mouth to muffle my moans. The desk shook, with papers scattered everywhere. I came hard, my ass clenching, and he followed, pulling out to spill on my back.After he came on my back, Wyatt didn't stop. He wiped me clean with a tissue, and was gentle now, then pulled me up to face him. “We’re not done yet.” he said, his eyes dark with want.He sat in his chair, pulling me onto his lap, facing away. His cock was hard again, pressing up against me. “Ride me.”I lowered onto him, slowly, gasping at the stretch, my hands on his thighs, I moved, up and down, his hands guiding my hips. He reached around, stroking my cock, circling the head.“Faster.” he urged, thrusting up to meet me. The chair creaked, my body bouncing. I leaned back against his chest, head on his shoulder, as he sucke

My backpack dragged on my shoulder like it was packed with bricks as I hurried across the college campus. My heart hammered in my chest, loud enough I swore everyone could hear it. I kept whipping my head around, my eyes darting from one face to the next, sure that someone had spotted me yesterday with that damn journal. But if no one took it, then where the hell was it? I was always so careful with it, tucking it away like as soon as people were around me but now it was gone, and the thought made my gut churn.That journal wasn't some boring notebook for class notes. No, it was full of my deepest, dirtiest thoughts and fantasies about my professors that I'd scribbled down in the dead of night or even whenever I even wanted to while my body heated up just imagining them. Wyatt with his strong build and that confident stare and Bryce with his easy smile and those hands that looked like they could grip you tight and not let you go. If anyone found it and read those words... God, I could

I kept my answer short but Wyatt wasn't the type to clap for half-assed answers. He expected perfection, that strictness of his making him even hotter in my eyes. I glanced up at him again, my heart thumping wild in my chest and for a split second, I caught something in those blue eyes, a flicker of maybe approval, or was I imagining it? It was something that made my pulse race lower, stirring that familiar ache in my groin. Then he turned away, dismissing me with a nod, his jaw set firm under that clean-shaven skin.Was he okay with what I said? Did it sit right with him, or did I screw it up? I couldn't read him because that blank face of his hid everything. Part of me wanted to impress him, to see those eyes light up with something more than just professor-mode. I imagine if it was just us, he would lean in close to me, whispering how good I did, his breath warm on my neck before his lips brushed there, his hands sliding down my chest...“Who can tell us about the causes of hype

I locked my dorm door, the room messy with the mess I had made earlier before I left. I dropped my bag and grabbed my second journal. The real one was still missing, but this would do. My hands shook as I flipped it open, my pen ready. The words flowed fast and dirty, building that scene in my head where Wyatt's question wasn't about grades. It was about us, him hurting me just right and making me beg for more. And here it goes; I sat at my desk in the empty classroom after hours, the lights were dim and the only glow was from the window lighting up Wyatt's face. He stood over me, his black pants stretched tight over his thick thighs, that white shirt he normally wore unbuttoned at the collar, showing a hint of his chest hair. His blue eyes burned into mine, full of that anger from earlier, but it has now changed into something hungry.“You love pain, don't you, Jonathan?” he growled, stepping closer to me, his hand grabbing my chin hard, forcing me to look up. His fingers dug into