Captain Underpants And Professor Poopypants Novels & Stories

the captain says in response to her jokes. "Now, here is me in elementary school; I suppose I was eight or nine years old in this photograph; I seem tall in this picture, ey?" he says, demonstrating how long his legs appear in the photos. "This is when I was in high school; these men were my pals; we weren't classmates, but we went out a lot doing dirty stuff." The captain is slowly telling Annika about his adventures, which she is thoroughly enjoying. "I admire how polished you look in your school uniform; you seem like a nerd here, lol!" she laughs. "I was such a nerd back then, ha! Ha! ha!" The captains answer Annika while laughing.

“Are you sick, or something?” Zoey’s eyes widened in dismay at his words. “What has gotten into you? A few days ago, you were teaching me about the female anatomy, and how to please myself, and now, you’re acting like a total asshole that the world owes something.” She clapped back, hoping she’d hit a nerve, but when Professor Beamont threw his head backwards, laughing so heartily, Zoey felt like the most foolish person on earth. “Well, maybe it’s because I’m a grown man with a lot on my plate, and not some pussy-whipped teenager who thinks about sex twenty-four-seven.” He retorted, and Zoey felt even more foolish.

“You just walk around like you are.” “I don’t need to act like anything,” he shot back. “You’re so busy playing the victim, it’s pathetic. Maybe you were the victim, just stop whining about it already, bitch!” That did it. My vision blurred red. My hand twitched. For one second, I didn’t care if he was Ryder “Golden Boy” Jameson, hockey prodigy, or if we were in a damn classroom. I was going to hit him. But Professor Staks moved fast. Faster than I thought a man with loafers and a retirement beard could. He stepped between us with surprising force, slamming his palm on the desk.

Her mouth actually fell open. Brad, to his credit, tried to play it cool. He smirked and gestured between us like we were old friends. “Stacey, this is Sebastian,” he said smoothly. “Sebastian, this is my girl, Stacey.” I gave her a small, polite nod. “Hey.” Her face was surprised with her mouth almost opening wide, like she had just discovered the juiciest piece of gossip in all of Hawthorne. The captain of Westfield suddenly living under the same roof as her boyfriend?

“Follow your hand book, professor. I will follow mine. And section forty three of mine says; drop your tits whenever or on whomever you want to, the world is your bra.” I wince inwardly. Thankfully no one else heard how awful the words sounded. It was humiliating to say the words out loud. “The world is your what?” Leo asks from behind me. I feel myself redden. He is laughing and choking on his laugh, making me turn even redder. “Mind your business.” This sends him into an even worse frenzy. He cannot stop laughing. Even my professor seemed to be struggling with controlling his laughter. “Get over it.” I tell them and storm off.

Chapter 3: I Get Destroyed, Stretched, and Creampied Like a Filthy Schoolgirl Fucktoy by My Pornstar Professor and Her Hung Partner Professor Nadia yanks me up by my hair and shoves me face-down over the large lecture desk, my heavy tits squishing painfully against the cold wood. Marcus kicks my legs wide apart, my short schoolgirl skirt flipped up over my ass, soaked panties ripped off and tossed aside. “Ass higher, slut,” Professor Nadia commands, her voice pure ice-cold dominance. “Show us that rebellious little cunt you were so eager to expose me with.”

I hear charcoal scratching the paper, he’s already drawing. I take my underwear down, step out of them, and I’m completely naked in my professor’s studio. “Sit on the stool in the stage.” I climb the two steps, the wooden stool pressing under me. The spotlight is bright, exposing. I cross my arms over my breasts, dying of shame. “Drop your arms.” “Mateo…” “Professor Sandoval.” His tone is sharp. “In this studio, you call me Professor. And you follow instructions. Arms down.”

LILY’S POV~ Is that Professor Derrin’s substitute? He is dang cute! I can't believe a thought like that would land me in something I never dared imagine. Who could this stunning professor be, the hot, sexy devil? How has he had every girl on campus drop their panties for him? To make things worse, my next-door neighbor is my psych professor. I am failing his class, and now I'm in his black book. The memories from last night came haunting me as I got ready for his class.

“Because, little one. We won’t be needing it.” “What? You…” He quickly intercepts me, saying. “Yes, because I’m gonna fuck you raw. I want you to feel every skin of my length inside you.” Without meaning to, I oragsm, panting. My panties drenched with my slimy nectar. I’m speechless. My face is the color of tomato when professor Logan draws back. I hear the sound of a zipper being ripped open and by the time I look down, his pants is pooling around his ankle, leaving him in a crisp white speedo.

With trembling fingers, I opened his zip and pushed his trousers and brief down a little. His cock sprang free. It was long, very thick, and veiny. The head was dark and shining from precum. I gasped and took one step back. It was even bigger than I imagined Professor Hungs groaned and took an equal step towards me and made me wrap my hand around it. “That’s it babygirl. Feel how hard you make me” I snatched my hand back and held them against my chest “wait Prof. I don't think this is a good idea. I…"