Erotica Professor Novels & Stories

Then the server came to take our order. Professor Reed barely looked at the menu before ordering the roasted squash tart, black pepper pasta, lemon-butter trout, and blood orange panna cotta. My fingers stopped against my water glass. I had mentioned all of those. Two months ago, when my thesis had nearly driven me insane, I sent my anonymous boyfriend a screenshot of this faculty club’s seasonal menu. If I survive this thesis, I’m coming here for the trout and that blood orange dessert. He replied almost immediately. Noted. When we meet, I’ll take you there.

“Professor Kane! That’s not okay to ask. I was only doing literary analysis.” He stepped right up close, towering over her. One big hand gently lifted her chin so she had to meet his eyes. “Don’t lie to me. I watched you during my lecture on erotic tension. You kept squeezing your thighs together when I talked about powerful older men corrupting their innocent protégés. Tell me the truth right now, or this paper gets an F.” She swallowed hard. “Okay… yes, it turned me on. But this is wrong! You’re my professor. You’re more than twice my age.

My eyes closed. “Eyes on me, Celine.” I forced them open. He was stroking himself, his fist moving slowly up and down his shaft, his eyes locked on my working fingers. The obscenity of it—spread out on my professor’s desk, masturbating for him sent a fresh gush of wetness between my legs. This was better than what I wrote. “That’s it,” he coaxed, his voice a drug. “Make that pretty pussy clench. I want to see you cum.”,

"Vane is texting me. My friends from the studio are texting me. Everyone is sending the same link." "It’s just a picture," Caspian said. "It’s not just a picture! It’s us," I said. I clicked the link. It was a website called Aethelgard Truth. The photo was blurry and taken from far away. It showed us at the head table. My head was tilted toward him, and his hand was clearly visible on my leg under the edge of the white cloth. The title in big, red letters said: PROFESSOR’S PET: IS THE ST. CLAIRE GIRL PAYING TUITION WITH MORE THAN JUST SKETCHES?

"Naked on your professor’s desk leaking all over yourself. If the dean walked in right now and saw me fingering my best student we would both be done." He added a third finger and fucked me with them rough. I moaned and gripped the edge of the desk. My cock throbbed in his hand. "Please sir," I begged. "Fuck me. I need your cock." Professor Reed pulled his fingers out and slicked up his thick cock with more lube. He lined up the head and pushed in one long thrust. I gasped loud as he sank all the way inside. So full. So deep. "Fuck yes," he groaned. "This tight student ass belongs to me now."

“He asked me for extra help on his essay… while I was still thinking about how tight his mother’s pussy felt around my cock.” Lila moaned softly, pushing back against his fingers. Professor Hawthorne unzipped his pants and rubbed the thick head of his cock up and down her soaked slit. “Tell me what you are,” he commanded. “I’m a bad mother,” Lila whispered, voice trembling with lust. “I’m letting my son’s professor fuck me behind his back.” “That’s right.” He pushed inside her in one smooth, deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt. Both of them groaned at the perfect fit.

“Count the spanks and thank your professor when I’m done. The first landed firmly, a crack that jolted me. “One. Thank you, professor.' The heat bloomed all over my body as the second hit harder. “Two. Thank you, professor.” By five, my ass stung, my skin was hot and my cock trapped against the bed leaking pre-cum. He varied from light pats mixed with sharp slaps to his hand lingering to squeeze after. “Six. Thank you, Professor.” My voice broke on eight, tears pricking from the intensity, not pain. At ten, he stopped, rubbing the red skin soothing me. “So beautiful. You’re marked by my hand but no more tonight.”

"Professor...ahhhh...ahhhh...ahhhh...your cock...your cock feels soooooo good...so good!" She couldn't resist her needs and started working her clit, frantically rubbing the swollen bud. She loved to feel cock stretching her, but she wanted more, "Professor...pro...uhhhh...professor, fuck me harder...uhhhh...harder, yeah...yeah...yeah...fuck...fuck me, professor...fuck me!" My thrusts were crazy hard and bounced her body forward over the desk; my dick molded her insides with its girth, and our slapping flesh filled the classroom with sounds of coed-fucking...music to a professor's ears.

"Or should I say Noah? The perfect little student who can't look me in the eye during class, but here you are fingering yourself like a desperate slut, asking strangers to watch.” My face was on fire. How did he know? The heat in my stomach made me panic. I tried to turn away, but he held me down harder, and his erection pushed against my butt crack through his trousers. It was thick and hard—oh my god, it felt huge. "Professor, please—" "Shut your mouth." Three of his veined fingers pushed into mine, stretching my lips wide.