Professor with Benefits

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Professor with Benefits Page 8

by Mickey Miller


  “It’s okay, Rose. Just breathe.”

  I take a few deep breaths, allowing myself some time to work through the now slight pain. Once he sees that I am okay, he thrusts more of his cock into me. He doesn’t make it all the way to the base before I moan, the pain dissolving and turning into pleasure. I feel so incredibly full.

  “Oh God, Cole,” I scream. My eyes flutter closed, the feeling of pure bliss taking over my entire body. My hands claw at either side of me, grasping for I-don’t-know-what.

  “So tight, Rose. Wow.”

  He moves gently, back and forth inside me, sliding almost all the way out and back in with every stroke, letting me adjust to his length and girth. I begin to moan in rhythm with how he fucks me. Slow and steady. In and out.

  His eyes lock onto mine. Those long eyelashes flutter and his eyes explore my body. I wonder what he’s looking at. His hands slide up the crease of my hips to my stomach, and land on my tits. He finds a way deeper inside me with every stroke. At first, I was bracing, but now I’ve relaxed.

  “You feel fucking amazing,” he growls. “Fuck.”

  I reach out and caress his forearm. “Fuck me harder. Please.”

  He smirks. “Harder? Really. You sure you can handle me?”

  “Just fuck me hard with that thick cock. Yes.”

  He slides in and out even slower, teasing me, the asshole. He’s being so gentle now. After how hard he spanked me in his office the other day, I’m almost confused.

  But a minute later, he picks up the rhythm, and everything makes sense. “Oh God, Cole. Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

  He fucks me with the full force of his cock and body, and I scream at the top of my lungs. The neighbors might hear me. Fuck the neighbors. The pleasure combines with pain as he pounds his full body weight into me. With every thrust we hear the slap of skin on skin, and it spurs me on more. I reach my hands around him and dig my nails into his back.

  This turns him feral. I’m not sure for a moment now whose blue eyes I’m staring into, Professor Hanks, Cole’s, or some other, wild animal. He lets my legs down from his shoulder and I wrap them around his back, pulling him into me. I feel the warmth of his chest against mine and his arms wrapped around me as he owns me, fucking me with everything he’s got.

  And he’s got a fucking lot.

  My body quivers, and it’s too much. The first orgasm bears down on me as he grabs hold of my hips and ass, and I’m done. Over the edge. I scream so loud, fuck the neighbors. The whole damn block probably hears me, and I don’t care because it feels so damn good.

  I tighten around him, and Professor Hanks’s breath shortens. “Come for me Rose. Come all over my big cock.”

  “I already am,” I manage to whisper as I shudder, pulsing all around him.

  He somehow plunges deeper into me, sending orgasmic reverberations through my spine and landing in my head. I’m high. This is incredible. I feel his cock twitch inside me, and his breath catches.

  I wrap my legs around his hips, locking him into me. “I’m about to come buckets inside you,” he growls.

  “I want to feel it,” I mewl.

  I scream louder, and pause. Suddenly, I hear something outside my body. A door slams downstairs.

  Fuck. Mom’s home.

  “Fuck, Little Rose,” he purrs, and I feel a warm gush of fluid spurt inside me. My legs lock him around me, and when he’s done, he runs his hand through my hair and across my sweaty cheek. “You look so unbelievable right now. It makes me want to--”

  “Rose? Jordyn Rose?” comes my mom’s voice from downstairs. Are you fucking kidding me?

  I hear her footsteps on the stairs. Professor Hanks’s eyes go wide. “Your fucking Mom’s home?” He had been so off in his own world fucking me, he hadn’t even heard the noise.

  “Shit,” I whisper. He jumps off of me, and I get up. The towel is bloody. He throws his boxers and pants back on. I run into my mom’s bathroom, which connects to the hall. I throw my clothes on as fast as I physically can, and run into the hallway. I can hear my mom at the top of the stairs right outside the door.

  She wrinkles her face up when she sees her towel wadded up in my hands.

  “Well good evening, dearie. Did you catch the sunset? What a lovely one tonight. Where is Professor Hanks? Is he still here? What are you doing with my bath towel?”

  I sweat, twisting the towel in my hand. Do I smell like sex? I definitely smell like sex. How is my mom’s sense of smell? Shoot, I’m standing here smiling like an idiot not saying anything.

  If I tell her he’s in the room, that’s weird. But Professor Hanks can’t come out of the same bathroom door I just came out of, or that’s suspicious as hell. What the hell do I do?

  “Ah, yeah, he’s still here,” I finally say, my mom glaring suspiciously at me. “Honestly I’m not sure where. I just decided I’m going to do a load of laundry while I’m here, before I go back to my apartment tonight. I figure I would help you out.”

  “Oh,” she smiles. “That’s nice of you.”

  Her hand lingers on her doorknob. “You said you weren’t sure where Professor Hanks was? I didn’t see him downstairs.”

  “Yeah, I don’t know.” My heart beats with the force of a tribal drum. “He helped me for a few minutes and then I left him to go into my old room and study.” I shrug nonchalantly. “Just not sure.”

  She ruffles her brow. “I thought for sure he would want to stay and see me afterwards. I wonder…” her voice trails off and she turns the doorknob to her room. My heart damn near explodes.

  “Mom!” I yell, putting a hand on her arm. “Did you see the card Grandpa left you?”

  “No,” she eyes me suspiciously. “What card?”

  “Oh, he must be getting old. It’s on the fridge. He said you should read it ASAP.”

  “Well okay then. He’s getting senile in his old age. Doesn’t even tell me everything anymore.” She lets go of the doorknob, and a breath of air whooshes out of me. “I’ll check it. Maybe Professor Hanks is in the basement, anyways.”

  “Yeah, I bet he is,” I lie.

  She turns and walks back downstairs.

  My body relaxes, and I run my hand over my face.

  Professor Hanks tiptoes out of the bathroom door that connects to the hallway. He’s relaxed, but not smiling. He seems so cocky all the time, but I wonder if even he got nervous at how close of a call we just experienced.

  “Well done, young Padawan,” he winks.

  “This is not funny. That was too close.”

  “Yes, it was. Which is why next weekend I’m taking you somewhere we won’t have to worry about interruptions.”

  “Taking me? Where?”

  “The University has a cabin on the outskirts of Blackwell, overlooking Lake Marseilles. Make up an excuse for why you’ll be gone all next weekend to your friends. Generally, it’s used for writing and research retreats. Seeing as how you’re doing research, I’ll reserve it for us.”

  I try not to appear too eager, but I can’t help that my smile radiates from my eyes. “You want me to spend the entire weekend with you?”

  He glances at the stairs, then back at me. “Rose, I feel like we’ve said two words to each other outside of the bedroom. Or my office. You said you wanted a sixty day experience? Well, we’re just getting started.”

  He tips my chin up toward him with a finger, and kisses me. “See you in class this week.”

  He walks back down the stairs. I hear him say a few words to my mom before he heads out the door.

  That was too close of a call, and as fun as it was, I give myself a new rule for my sex life:

  Rule number one: No sleeping with my college professor at my mom’s house anymore.

  Chapter Ten - Cole

  This week, during my classes, I’m distracted by Rose.

  I haven’t given her any instructions for what to wear this week, but she’s taken it upon herself to flaunt her goods in front of me. Monday she wears a short skirt and a scoop n
eck shirt. I’m pretty sure I catch half the male students in the room drooling in her direction.

  Wednesday she wears tight jeans and I’m reminded that in addition to her incredible rack, she can look good in nothing more than tight denim and a flannel button down, looking like one of the cowgirls of Blackwell.

  Friday, though, is the day she absolutely kills me. Probably because she’s as anxious as I am for the weekend to start so we can head out to the cabin on the lake. She shows up to class on Friday with a wry little smile, wearing a short skirt, leggings, and black shirt that shows just a little midriff. When I lay eyes on her, all I can think about is how I’m going to fuck her so hard and in so many different ways this weekend. that smile is going to be sore. She’s got her big glasses on too and her hair is in pigtails. When I get closer to her, I read the white text on the shirt. “Misfit.”

  I’m done. It’s all I can do to keep from pacing back and forth on the lecture hall stage without a huge boner. I’m droning on about Unit Three of Psychology of Sexuality, when all I really want to do is just get real with the students. Just tell them, hey, you want to see what sexuality should be like? It’s me and Rose, and our exploding chemistry. Sex this hot has never been observed, so listen closely to her moans, like I did the other night.

  “Professor Hanks?” One of my students raises their hand, looking at me, perplexed. “Why are you talking about chemistry? Chemistry of what?”

  Had I started talking about Rose and I? Fuck. Get it together, Hanks.

  “Guys, all of the sciences are related. Professors will try to delve into one subject, but it’s important to keep in mind a holistic approach to education. Chemistry, psychology, sexuality, it’s all interrelated.” I give myself an internal high five for the Grade - A bullshitting I just did to string my thesis together. I don’t know what I was talking about one minute ago. I’m like a student pulling something out of their ass to finish a final paper.

  Rose has me too off my game. How am I supposed to be a proper professor with her hot ass distracting me in the front row?

  The kid who had asked the question continues. “So, chemistry and psychology are interrelated? You mean like what chemicals your body releases when you are in love?”

  “I see you’ve done your reading for the week.” The class chuckles. “Alright. If there are no other questions, I’m going to let you all out a few minutes early this…”

  A hand shoots up in the front row. Rose’s dainty little fingers wiggle in the air.

  “Professor Hanks,” she begins, her tone even and confident. “We’ve talked about the psychology of attraction in this class. We’ve talked about the cultural and societal influences of attraction. But all you’ve done is quote texts. You haven’t told us about what you think. And I think a lot of us are wondering what your expert opinion is on what makes love work--you know, the deepest of all chemical attractions.”

  The class turns their heads toward me, nodding their agreement. I get it. I’m the young, cool professor. Most of Blackwell University is stuffy, fifty-something white haired men. The students want to hear my personal opinion on the matter.

  “What I think,” I say, using my professor voice. “Is that attraction is a case by case basis. For all of the science we can talk about here, sometimes you are just attracted to a person and that’s that. Some people make you produce...what’s the chemical, class?”

  “Dopamine,” a few of them respond.

  “Very good. I see you’ve actually been listening to me.”

  I give them the reading for the weekend and dismiss the class. Rose flashes her brown eyes toward me as she leaves, then walks out extra slow. Most of the students are out of the classroom when she ‘accidentally’ drops her pen and bends over to pick it up. I just stare at her ass in disbelief that those were the same cheeks I spanked in my office last week.

  This weekend, I’m going to give her forty-eight hours that she’ll never forget for the rest of her life. By Sunday evening, she’s going to be ruined.

  When she picks up the pen, she turns and grins slyly. We lock eyes, both knowing it is so on for tonight.

  She might be my student. This might be completely against the rules.

  But I’m not going to lie.

  This is hot as hell.

  Later that night she appears at my doorstep with a pink JanSport backpack on.

  I scoff a little, but I have to admit I love her girlishness.

  “How’d you get here?” I ask.

  “My hog,” she smiles, nodding toward her bicycle propped up on the kick stand behind her.

  “I’m going to put this inside, and then we’ll take off.” I open my garage door. The wheels tick as I push Rose’s bike inside. She’s got on the same Misfit top from earlier, but she’s changed into jeans. Probably for the best, what with all of the creeps hanging out around Blackwell late at night watching some hottie ride a bike around.

  I toss her backpack into the backseat of my ‘95 Grey Mercedes. Blackwell is hot enough on this late summer night to roll with the top down, but I press the button to push it up after I turn the key in the ignition. We pull out of the driveway.

  “It’s a nice night,” Rose says, sticking her nose out the window like a puppy.

  “It is.”

  “Does it feel weird to you?”

  “Does what feel weird to me?” I ask.

  “That we have to keep the top up? You know. Since I’m just your dirty little secret.”

  I stare down the road. “Actually, it does. If you want me to be real, Rose, I like you. And I don’t mean in the ‘I want to fuck your brains out’ way. Well, actually, yes I do. But I also like talking to you.”

  “We’ve said like two words to each other outside of fucking,” she snorts.

  I pull onto the main road heading due west toward the opposite side of Blackwell. “You’ve made it very clear what you want, Rose. Sixty days. No personal attachments. I’m just your research project so you can be a better sex therapist someday. I get it. But as a result, I think it’s important to keep things mostly just sexual. You have a charm about you, Rose. The guy you end up with is going to be very lucky. Just because we haven’t had a lengthy chat yet doesn’t mean I don’t realize that.”

  “He is?” she asks. Her tone is filled with genuine surprise. I’m watching the road, but I can feel her squinting at me in shock.

  “Oh come on, Rose. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed every guy in the class checking you out. Add in the fact that you’re a people pleaser, and a little bit of a nerd. And let’s not forget those curves.” I smirk toward her and steal a glance. “You’re a fucking dream girl.”

  “Wow.” She nods slowly, and fiddles with her phone in her hand.

  “What?”

  “I just never thought of myself like that.”

  I grin as I turn onto a dirt road that leads toward the University’s research cottage. Rose is such an anomaly to me. How did she make it to age twenty-two being a virgin, hot as she is? It makes no fucking sense. And now she doesn’t even realize she’s a dream girl? Come on. It’s sheer madness.

  Like a strong wind hitting me in the head, a thought crosses my mind. After forty-eight hours in the University Cottage with me, Rose will never be the same. After a weekend full of being molded for my cock and mine alone, she’s going to be ruined.

  Too bad she only wants me to be her temporary Professor with benefits, and nothing more. But if that’s the case, I’m going to make sure she can’t ever get this weekend out of her mind.

  “Hey Professor Hanks. Can I ask you just a regular question?”

  I furrow my brow. “Like the regular question you asked today in class?”

  “Ha! I couldn’t resist. No. This one is a more...a regular personal question.”

  I have to admit I am curious of anything that gets dreamt up in that cute little mind of Rose’s. “Of course. Ask away.” The sun has fully set now, and we’re in the Blackwell Forest Preserve. I turn on my bright
s to navigate the winding dirt road.

  “I know we’ve talked about you dominating me. And I like that. I think I am mostly submissive by nature. But the other night, I accidentally called you Cole. It felt almost weird, calling you something else besides ‘Sir,’ or ‘Professor Hanks,’ but you didn’t even address it.”

  “You’re right,” I croak. I don’t know what to fucking say here. Say that I like her calling me by my first name, even though she’s made it fairly clear, a professor is what she wants for her fantasy. If I say that I’d prefer her to keep calling me Professor Hanks or Sir, I’d be lying.

  “I like it when you call me Cole,” I finally say. “I know you’re my student and I’m your professor, and I haven’t read the full policy but I know we can get in a lot of trouble for fucking. Well, I can get in a lot of trouble for us fucking. But yeah, Rose, I don’t mind it. It did sound weird the first time you said it, but the way your voice sounds, shit. I could listen to you read math equations to me and I’d get turned on.”

  “Really?” she smiles. “Well maybe we’ll have to turn the tables and I can be your sexy little math teacher one of these nights.” She shimmies her boobs a little, pulls down her glasses to the tip of her nose, and bites her lower lip. “How are your multiplication tables these days?”

  I crack a smile, something I haven’t been doing all that much lately in Blackwell. My mind drifts briefly to thoughts of my mom, and what she’s doing tonight. Luckily my sister is taking care of her this weekend so I’ve got it off.

  I need this. I need a break from the stress. My mom’s treatment has been taking a toll on me. And Rose is the perfect remedy.

  I haven’t even given Rose the outfit I picked out for her for this weekend, and I can already feel my cock hardening, rubbing against my jeans.

  Finally we come to the end of the long and winding dirt road, and come to a stop in front of the cottage.

  I get out, open the back door and hand Rose her backpack. I grab my duffle bag full of fun surprises for the night.

 

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