Professor Erotica 소설 & 이야기

Students passed me in the hallway, none the wiser that their respected Literature Professor had just used me like a cheap campus whore. That night, I lay in bed with my fingers buried in my cum-filled pussy, replaying every filthy moment. I had gotten exactly what I wanted — and so much more. Professor Ethan Hayes owned me now, and I couldn’t wait for him to use his personal fucktoy again and again. Our forbidden game had only just begun.

I gasped, gripping his shoulders. "Oh God," I moaned softly. "We can’t do this. You’re my professor. You’re married." "But you want it." He pumped his fingers faster, thumb circling my clit. "Tell me how long you’ve been touching yourself thinking about your professor." "Since my first semester," I admitted breathlessly, hips rocking against his hand. "Every time you praised my work in office hours, I got wet. It’s so wrong." "Damn right it’s wrong." He added a third finger, stretching me. "I’m twice your age. Your professor. And you’re going to come on my hand like the needy little slut you are underneath that professional act."

In fact, it turned me on even more. So instead, I spread my thigh wider. I don’t even think I meant to, it just happened. Stephan noticed and chuckled. “Professor,” I whispered, my voice shaky, but he didn't wait for me to say more. His thumb brushed against my folds, gathering the slick juices that had pooled there, and he rubbed them slowly across my sensitive skin, circling my clit with just enough pressure to make me gasp sharply and buck against his hand. Oh fuck. “That's it, baby,” he urged me as his fingers worked my juices over my pussy lips in slow, deliberate strokes. “Wow, you really came hard from me playing with those perfect tits, uhn,”

He leaned back against the edge of his chair, crossing his arms on his chest while he waited. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "She's twenty and still innocent. I want to ruin that innocence slowly and filthy. Spread her legs wide on my desk and teach her how to take every inch of my cock down to her throat, making her gag and drool spit down her chin." My voice cracked on the word cock, and I felt fresh slickness soaked into my panties instantly. My nipples hardened again, aching and straining against my shirt. I could not believe I was saying all these words out loud to my professor. He didn't move an inch, but his eyes were so much darker, hungry and intense.

“Oh my God…” She presses on, her eyes holding mine, her voice raw. “So I suggest you just do as they say. Honestly, it’s not like it will kill you.” Her next words slice me open. “It’s just pleasure, Anita.” I recoil, my lips trembling. She continues, her tone strangely matter-of-fact, almost rehearsed. “I mean, you’ve already been with him once. And… he is very good in that aspect. He knows how to give women pleasure, the kind they can’t forget. That’s why they keep coming back. I’ve… I’ve lived with it for two years now. So, no, it won’t kill you. It won’t hurt you. And he’s very clean—trust me. No diseases, nothing to worry about. And he’s generous. Very generous. If you satisfy him, he’l

She curls her tongue inside my cunt, and her mouth pulls on my clit, causing my vision to whiten as pleasure slams through me raw and unforgiving, wet heat, the relentless drag of ridges against my walls, the obscene slurping sounds she makes as she devours me. My grip around the desk gets tighter, my nails digging into the wood, but it doesn’t hurt at all, not with what Lira is doing underneath the desk. My toes curl tight in my shoes. Sweat beads on my forehead. The professor asks a question somewhere in the front, but all I hear is the wet smacking of Lira’s mouth on my cunt and her filthy whispers vibrating through my folds. What will I do? What if the professor calls on me to answer a q

Heat pooled between my thighs. God, he looked untouchable. Dangerous. Mine. I shut my eyes, and the fantasy slammed into me full-force. I was no longer in my room. I was Amara. His hand was wrapped around my throat, pressing me back against the wall. His breath scorched my ear, his voice low and commanding. His hips slammed into me, again and again, ruthless, merciless. “Professor…” The word escaped my lips like a prayer. My hand slid down, tugging my panties aside. I spread my legs wider, sinking two fingers inside my slick folds. A guttural moan left my throat as my back arched against the mattress. The wet sounds filled my room, obscene and desperate.

He pushed her against the shelves, his big hand sliding up under her short skirt, fingers finding how dripping wet she was for him. “You’ve been teasing me for months, haven’t you, Elena?” his voice growled in her mind. “Touching that needy little pussy under my desk while I teach. Such a naughty virgin slut for your professor.” She pushed two fingers deep inside her tight hole, pumping them fast while the vibrator tortured her clit. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room. Her hips bucked wildly. “Yes, Professor… I’m yours… please fuck me…” she whimpered desperately.

She had not meant to be so vulgar but the memory had come to her so suddenly. “I would not say it like that,” the professor said, dipping a hand in his pocket. “Sex was a form of worship for those devotees.” He was staring in her eyes again now, and all the feelings that had taken backstage for the past few minutes came alive again. He produced a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and raised it to her face. She plucked a stick from the bunch, without breaking their gaze. The Professor slipped one out too, and raised a lighter between them.

Fingers gently caressing my back, shoulders, and stomach. He began probing underneath the straps of my bra and I knew what was next. He slid the straps slid over my shoulders. A plain white functional bra, not very sexy. I didn't think it needed to be. It took him a minute to unhook the bra, but he finally removed it and tossed it aside. He went back to work immediately. He cupped my boobs and began to fondle them squeezing each nipple between his fingers. It would have been awkward now to close my eyes and look away, so I just stared back in his eyes. He had wrinkles around his eyes and dark spots beneath them that revealed his age. But there was more in his eyes. More than lust, it was som