Captain Underpants And Professor Poopypants Novels & Stories

“At least I get fucked properly. You’re still chasing a man who barely looks at you.” Professor Harlan muttered something panicked about his wife and tenure before bolting past me, nearly tripping over his own feet. I felt bile rise in my throat. The sight of his glistening, cum-covered cock, the smell of sex in the air was revolting. Especially knowing Sophia had done it so casually. “You’re disgusting,” I said quietly, voice steady despite the nausea. “Both of you, how can you even be fucking with a professor because of grades atleast I've dignity not to be spreading for some Fs because I know you're definitely getting that”.

I finally reached the pedestal and stopped a few feet away, and I stared up at the tall professor who was waiting for me with a deep, permanent scowl carved into his aged face. The professor wore long black robes that dragged across the polished stone, and he held a digital scroll that projected a glowing blue list of names into the air between us. He looked me up and down with open disgust, and he pinched the bridge of his nose because my muddy boots were leaving filthy footprints across his pristine classroom floor. "I was informed that the Varric pack was sending a human charity case today, but I expected them to at least wash you before dumping you on my campus," the professor sighed, an

She shrieked loudly, kissing the damp fabric and waving it over her head like a trophy. What was so special about it? I thought bitterly. It wasn’t even dry. Julian had been sweating, there was no doubt it would reek. Behind me, the noise suddenly exploded into screams, cheers and whistles. The cheerleaders had noticed Mr. Ashford pulling off his shirt to change into a casual one, the kind required for a coach on the rink. His movements were effortless and unbothered by the attention he was drawing. Even Thea screamed along with them.

Matt called out to the crowd, his voice dripping with absolute amusement. On the right side of the aisle, a group of Matt’s rowdy hockey teammates erupted into cruel laughter, slapping each other on the back. Older relatives in the back rows simply stared, their mouths open in utter disbelief. Wealthy socialites leaned into each other, whispering furiously behind their manicured hands, while a few of Ryan’s older teammates looked deeply uncomfortable, their eyes dropping to the floor out of sheer pity.

I showed it to Kade. He smirked but his eyes stayed hard. "See? Starts as jokes. Then questions. Why does the captain babysit the new guy so much? Room together on trips. Always paired in drills." "Coach ordered that stuff," I shot back. "We have excuses. But if they link it to anything else... the fights that turned into more. The weight room. My place. We cannot let this blow up now. Not with the syndicate breathing down our necks." Kade shifted closer his knee pressing against mine in the back seat. "You worried about your image Ryder? Golden boy captain caught with the killer from Russia. Fans might eat it up or burn your jersey."

Shirley POV “Ughhh… yes, right there,” The girl’s breathy moan echoed off the tiled walls of the girls’ restroom like she was auditioning for a bad romance movie. I froze mid-zip inside my cubicle, eyes widening. “Shh, baby,” a deeper, husky voice murmured, half-laughing. “We don’t want others to hear us.” Too late for that.

“Because, well, why not? It’s not the first time a student has fucked her professor.” I got chills from what she just said. Instantaneously, I picture Julian’s body looking absolutely luscious, wearing only a T-shirt. And I’ve always thought men looked sexier in sweatpants. Now, imagine ripping off all that... Nope, nope. That’s not something I should be thinking. That’s totally obscene. “Stop it. I still have shame in my body. It’s not okay to cheat back. Kristoff has yet to explain himself.” “Screw Kristoff. He’s a scumbag.”

Fynn added, his grin widening. I groaned inwardly, rolling my eyes. "Great, way to rub it in!" Fynn gave a semi-serious nod, although his lips were twitching into a smile. "We’ll try to go easy on you, I swear. After all, it must be tough for you to figure out who’s who." I crossed my arms, trying to regain some composure. "I’ll manage," huffing out the words, I might have forgotten for a moment that they both were my Professors.

To shove some of it down his throat. “You got yourself a deal,” I say with a grin. It sounds easy enough until I’m locked up in a tight square box, with my pants hanging aroundind my ankles. I’m clutching my cock, trying to create the urge to pee. In the meantime, Steve has stripped down to his boxer briefs. He’s on his knees, his head tilted up in anticipation. He’s got that blown out look of desire in his eyes. I feel the rush of urine coming. Before I know it, I’m peeing on my college professor. And he seems to be enjoying it.