Professor Off Limits Novels & Stories

Or maybe he had and chose to ignore it. Malik’s eyes narrowed. “That’s… our professor.” “Yeah,” I said slowly. There was a beat. “You’re with him?” I turned sharply. “What?” He looked at me, tone measured. “Are you in a relationship with your professor?” I swallowed. “Why are you asking?” “Because if you are, it’s against academic policy.” My chest tightened. “It’s not—he’s not— We’re careful.” He didn’t say anything. “Nothing’s wrong,” I said, more to myself than to him. “It’s not like he’s grading my work. It’s not… inappropriate.”

“One of your professors grabbed me by the neck in class today. Is that normal here? Should I expect to be manhandled as part of my studies?” The woman froze. “Professor who?” “Alpha Ronan,” Scarlet said flatly. The guardian’s face drained of color. She lowered her voice immediately. “You… you should forget that ever happened. We can’t touch him. None of us can. That man could wipe out this entire university with a snap of his fingers.” Scarlet scoffed, a dark smirk curling her lips. “So you’re all cowards. Noted.” “Miss Darius, please...”

“I asked you a question, you can’t walk into your professor’s office like that without a reason, it’s not appropriate. And it better be important." You bet. Really fucking important, my life depends on it. Professor Matteo is shouting now, a fierce downpour of ‘professional boundaries’, ‘utter disrespect’, and ‘immediate disciplinary action’. I don’t hear a word of it. His voice is just a secondary soundtrack to what my actual focus is, as I stare at his dick hidden behind his trousers. Professor Matteo’s face is a hovering mask of indignation, his finger pointing towards the door in a rigid command to leave.

“I didn’t find anything.” The professor nodded. “Did you check the restricted section?” “I don’t have a pass,” I replied. The restricted section was for official academic research only, as it contained many of the school’s oldest and most fragile books. Only students with express permission were allowed to enter. “I’ll write you one,” the professor said, smiling. “Really?” I straightened a little. “Over a whim like this?” “Whims just so happen to be my favorite academic driver,” she said, opening the drawer in her desk. She pulled out a pad of slips and jotted something down, then signed her initials at the bottom and tore it off.

"Did you forget the part where you're a professor?!" "You're right," Morris looks thoughtful. "I should be harder on you in class so that nobody catches on-" "That is not what I meant!" "Then what?" He studies me. "Student-teacher relationships aren't allowed!" He lifts a brow, "That's what you're worried about?" He gestures with his hand, "Those rules don't apply to us." "I bet the human staff won't think so when they catch you with your pants down," I scowl at him.

“About how the most intense pleasure often comes from what we’re told we can’t have. The forbidden. The risky. The wrong.” Professor Kelvin swallowed visibly. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles whitening. “This conversation is crossing a line, Mia. You’re my student.” “Am I?” I uncrossed my legs, letting them part just enough for the cool office air to brush against my bare, already damp pussy. I knew he could see the glistening evidence of my arousal if he looked down. “Or am I just a woman who wants her professor to teach her something real?”

the professor repeated, his tone held no room for argument. "Ah, yes, professor." Noah quickly obeyed. Soon, the sweet, intoxicating scent of honeyed lavender gradually filled the air, softening the cold room. "Ugh." The professor groaned softly, leaning his head back with his eyes closed, the cigarette still resting between his fingers. He spoke without opening his eyes. "Outside the school walls, don't call me Professor." He opened his eyes then, meeting Noah's gaze directly. Noah jumped slightly in surprise and quickly averted his eyes, his face flushing red.

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.

His eyes had found my thighs several times already. I didn't like that. Still... Maybe I was just overthinking this. I had just come from being emotionally disemboweled by Tania in the restroom and hiding from Professor Thiago like a wanted criminal. My brain wasn't exactly operating under ideal conditions. Besides, Professor Reynolds was married. At least that was what everyone said. Married professors didn't stare at students sexually. Right? And professors called students into their offices all the time. This was completely normal. There was absolutely nothing weird about discussing coursework with a lecturer in his office.

“Are you still in Northlake?” “Yes.” “I’m driving down with Claire. She wanted to see the harbor after the foundation dinner.” Claire. So that was her name. I tightened my grip on the phone. “Professor, that doesn’t sound project-related.” “Reed is still there, isn’t he? You can stay if you’re comfortable. If not, head back first.” I was about to choose the train when Ford added, “Also, your research stipend approval came through. I’m forwarding the confirmation now.”