Erotic Stories Professor Novels & Stories

His face was flushed and he was almost breathless. “Class,” I answered, watching impatiently as he tried to catch his breath. “What's wrong with you?” “Class? You don't have a class to teach today,” he pointed out, frowning. “Yeah. Milgram gave me her period to use. What do you want? I'm heading home now.” “No,” he said, then he shut the door and moved closer to me. “Have you heard the rumors going around?” “What rumors?” “I overheard two girls talking about a professor having an affair with a student and your name was mentioned,” he explained, looking at me as if he believed what he had heard.

“Your pussy is such a slut, little one.” “Yes. Yes.” I let out, my hips squirming as I cling to him. My professor. “So…slimy with juices. My fingers ain’t even inside yet.” He says, my face flushing red as my hunger grows. Please, put it in. Please, I bite the inside of my mouth at his next words. “Tell me. Little one. How many fingers do you want inside you?” My heart thrashes as I spit out. “Two. Please give me…two, professor.”

Making sure I nibbled on his lips. It had started innocently enough. I was a 21-year-old literature major with a crush on my 46-year-old professor that had grown into something much more dangerous. Professor Harden was everything I shouldn’t want. He was married, but he claimed he was separated with his wife. He was powerful, and completely off-limits. But the way he looked at me during lectures… the way his voice dropped when he said my name… I couldn’t resist it. It started with “extra credit” sessions in his office. Then late-night meetings. Then the first time he bent me over his desk and fucked me while the rest of the campus slept.

A student had been sitting right there, asking questions about the syllabus, completely unaware that Ryder was unzipping the professor’s dress pants. Ryder closes his eyes for a second, recalling the musky scent of the man’s arousal, the heat radiating from his groin. He had pulled the professor’s thick, hard dick out and wrapped his lips around the head, tasting the salty bead of precum. The professor had been stuttering through his lecture, his face flushed a deep crimson, sweating as he tried to maintain eye contact with the student while Ryder deepthroated him, taking his cock all the way to the back of his throat.

His big hands yanked my top up, sucking hard on my tits while his fingers shoved my skirt up and found me dripping wet. “Fuck professor,” I moaned as he dropped to his knees, throwing one of my legs over his shoulder. His talented tongue dove straight into my soaked folds, licking broad strokes over my clit before pushing inside me. Two thick fingers curled deep, stroking that perfect spot while he sucked my swollen nub. I gripped his hair, grinding against his face. “Eat your student’s cunt, Professor. I’m so close.” The door creaked open behind us. “Oh my god!” a high pitched, familiar voice gasped.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, locking it. Professor Hale sat behind his large oak desk, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, looking every bit the brilliant but dangerously attractive 38-year-old literature professor. His sharp jaw, dark hair with a touch of silver at the temples, and intense green eyes had haunted my fantasies since the first day of his Advanced Erotic Literature seminar. “You’re late,” he said, leaning back in his chair, eyes raking over my body. I was wearing a short plaid skirt, white blouse tied at the waist, and thigh-high stockings, exactly what he had described in his last email.

When I was bored and restless, it somehow made everything better. He, too, shared stories about his past. Back in college, he had flings with older women, including one of his professors. As he described their escapades, I could feel my body gradually heating up. And I knew he noticed. I could tell he was fully aware that his stories were turning me on, but he just let me simmer.

Ericson said didn't make much sense so he took a bold step and probed further. “What... What is it on that phone?” Harold stammered. “I doubt you both are eighteen so I can't show you.” The professor said looking from one face to another as he slid Trisha's phone back into his pocket. After roughly two ticks from the wall clock hung above meaning two seconds had passed, Prof. Ericson brought it out again. “On second thoughts,” he started, “I don't really care about your age. See.” He made a few swipes on Trisha's phone and he showed the video of Mrs. Perry and the dwarf, supposedly Prof. Ericson's own assistant, copulating.

My professor was going to violate me right here, right now. “Linda, I've been waiting for this for a very long time.” Gary’s tone of voice suddenly softened as he gently placed a hand onto my breast. “Since the day you chose me as your professor, I’ve liked you. If you accept me, I can give you everything you ever wanted. For example, I can make your research on mermaids receive government recognition and you’ll receive a lot of funding. Or, I can even make you a biologist who’s more famous than Charles Darwin.”

I cried out, unable to stay quiet, my body shaking on the desk. He didn’t slow down. He fucked me through my orgasm with deep, punishing strokes, then pulled out suddenly, flipped me onto my back, and lifted my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half on the desk. “Look at me while I breed you,” he ordered, eyes locked on mine as he slammed back in. “Tell your professor who this pussy belongs to now.” “It belongs to you, Professor,” I gasped, nails digging into his arms. “I’m your dirty little student slut!”