PROF. BEN, THE JANITOR AND I 1I couldn’t take it anymore. Throughout the years I'd been in this college, I’d been jerking off furiously every night thinking about Professor Ben, his deep voice, the way his shirt stretched across his broad chest, those intense eyes that made me weak. I was done fantasizing. Done cumming into my hand while imagining him fucking me. So that evening, heart pounding in my throat, I walked to his office in the quiet humanities building, ready to beg for even just one night with him. At the moment, I wasn't going to give a dime for whatever the outcome of my approach would produce.Fuck it. Fuck the damn outcome. Do not blame me, I just thought that I would lose my mind—if not tonight when I'd be jerking off, as it has become my routine—then soonest, if I wasn't gonna take a damn bold step.The door was slightly open when I reached his office. I heard sounds before I even reached it, low, rough grunts and the sharp slap of skin on skin.I froze, then ge
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