Professor Membrane Novels & Stories

I turned the corner near the older faculty offices and froze. The door to Professor Harlan’s office, an older economics lecturer known for being strict and married, was slightly ajar. Moans and the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh spilled out. I should have kept walking. Instead, morbid curiosity pulled me closer. I peeked through the gap.

“Professor, let’s stop here. My brain can’t take it anymore.” I complain to Professor Fortez. My temple is pulsing painfully. I reached my limit already. This Professor of mine is a monster. He is very strict while teaching me. He doesn’t like so many red marks on my paper. He wants everything to be perfect.

NOAH’S POV My legs were still shaking, and cum was running down the insides of my thighs when Marcus's words hung in the air like a lit fuse. "Elliott, you weren't supposed to—" The professor's hand got tighter around my waist, and his fingers dug in hard enough to hurt. I could feel the change in him: his possessive grip turned into a protective one, and his body tensed up like a coiled spring. Jax stood still a few feet away, his eyes darting between us. The

"I want you to tell me the truth. When you wrote that line about the professor and the student crossing the line, did part of you wonder what it would feel like?" Heat pooled between her legs and she pressed her thighs together under the desk. "That's not... I was analyzing the text." Adrian gave a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Of course. But your words carried heat. Real heat, like you know exactly how dangerous that kind of attraction can be." The room felt smaller and the no-fraternization memo flashed in her mind, but it didn't stop the way her body reacted to his nearness and she was afraid he might notice it.

He rumbled, and I pondered on what he meant, but his next words caught me off guard. “I want you to fuck me, professor.” He mumbled, and my eyes widened in shock. I studied his facial expression. I could tell that he wasn't pleased by what he just remembered; if this was the context of what he remembered and not other memories, I knew it would put me in a bad light.

“Lora is an aspiring conductor, and Anya is a promising composer with a good ear. I hope you remember them.” Strangely, the professor’s gaze lingers on mine for longer than a second. No, it’s already been over five seconds and counting. They’re assessing me, and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from them too. Goosebumps parade all over my body. Wait a second. I know that voice! I’m good at remembering voices. “Believe me. I definitely will, Kristoff,” Professor Sebastian states, now unsmiling. “Because I ran into Ms. Scott earlier on the porch, and she doesn’t seem to recognize me without the mask.”

I shook my head and turned to my table to bring out the new biology textbook Keisha had gifted me a while back. “Our topic for today is Excretion. Now….” I trailed off when the door opened and someone walked in. Shock glued my feet to the floor and I would have almost dropped the book on the floor but a professor has gotta maintain her Steeze in front of her students. Even though I didn't drop the book, my jaw was definitely on the floor as I stared at the guy walking into the door with a grin. “Good morning miss,” he greeted with a smile, and that voice sent shivers down my spine, “I'm a new student.”

We made our way to two empty seats at the back. “Hey,” Liam whispered moving over for us to sit next to him. “Get lost asshole,” Macy retorted before I could say a word in response. She held my hand and made me sit. “What is going on? Why do you look so pale?” she whispered. My gaze never left his. I gulped. “Why is he here? Where is the arts professor?” “Oh, that? Didn’t you get the mail? Professor Brown retired to his hometown. Professor Sebastian got transferred as his replacement. He’s hot isn’t he? That’s the reason why you were so distracted…”

Inching closer to him, I lay one of my hands on his shoulder and squeeze. “Remember that study I told you about? I remember the professor’s name who made it now. It was Professor Sheena Josselyn. You could look it up if you have the time,” I tell him, fully knowing that as the study suggested, he will probably forget about me the very next morning. He was drunk, and out of it. “Sure, it hurts now, but it won’t always. It’s just that it’s fresh. Tomorrow morning, after you get to have a good night’s sleep, you probably won’t even remember my face.” He shakes his head, “No, I’ll remember you. You’re prettier than her. Nicer too.”