by Madison Faye
There’s nothing there, and slowly, I can feel my pulse start to slow from the manic pace of seconds before.
But that was close; too close. That was treading a line that’d get me kicked out of this cushy college job faster than you can say “better go write another best-seller.”
Been a lot of that today, hasn’t there.
I need to watch myself. First I’m hitting on a student and blatantly staring at her big, juicy tits, and now I’m almost getting busted jerking off in my fucking office. Yeah, I need to get my shit in line.
I’m shaking my head as I go back to my desk, and I’m starting to groan about the big load of cum I just dropped on some poor little shit’s paper, before my eyes freeze at the name on the top.
Jesus, I just came on Ellie’s report.
It's a filthy, cock-twitchingly dirty thought, and I groan before I shake my head. No, I need to get these taboo, off-limits thoughts of Ellie Thompson right out of my head.
Except I’m still thinking them when I lock up later and leave. I’m still thinking of fucking that sweet young body and watching those tits bounce high on her chest. I’m still thinking of tasting that tight pussy, shoving my tongue deep inside as she whimpers for more. I’m groaning as I slam the door to my house off campus, shutting the world out behind me and whipping my cock back out. All I can do is dream about covering her big perfect tits with my cum.
And when I imagine buying my cock inside that barely legal cunt and pumping her full of my seed, I growl as my cum goes flying across the room.
7
Ellie
I’m buzzing as I leave the English department building. I can feel my whole face blushing, and my entire body throbbing and tensing like I’ve been hit with some sort of electric spark as I make a bee-line right to my dorm.
Because what I just saw has me soaking through my panties.
“Well listen, if you need to talk, my office is always open…I work late.”
If I were any other girl - maybe a more experienced one, I’d say ‘talking’ wasn’t why I went to Liam Martin’s office so late, after the rest of the building was mostly dark and empty. But this is me we’re talking about, and truth be told, I don’t know why I went. To be near him and feel that illicit, electric glow I got whenever I was around him? To maybe feel that same rush I’d felt when he’d bumped into me out of class and talked to me and looked at me like I was this girl he had to have instead of just one of this students?
I fumble in my pocket for the keycard to my dorm, still feeling that powerful thrill thundering through me, making my nipples hard as points under my t-shirt and making my little pussy wet, soaking the cotton of my panties as I squeeze my legs together.
He said my name.
I walked down the dark hallway of the English building slowly, trying to even make sense of why I was there, and what I was possibly going say to him once I got to his office. What, that I was struggling in class? I was acing his class, along with every other class.
It was the grunting noise that stopped me cold in the hallway, a few feet before I’d gotten to his door. I might be young, and naive, and inexperienced, but I’m not that sheltered. I know the sound of well, that, when I hear it.
For a moment, I almost felt a rush of jealousy at the sounds he made. Was there someone in there with him? I wanted to slap myself for being silly enough to think I was the only girl who thought the tattooed, ruggedly charming Liam Martin was hot, and I almost walked away right then before I heard it again.
I had to see.
I forced myself closer to the ajar door of his office, feeling my heart pound with every slow step. Slowly, I inched my way to the crack in the door and peered in, but nothing prepared me for what I saw.
Oh my God.
His head was thrown back, his eyes were squeezed shut, and his hand was wrapped around the biggest cock I could ever have imagined. Okay, it’s not like I had any actual experience to compare it to, but it was huge.
It was like flicking a switch, and I was wet instantly.
I watched, my pulse roaring in my ears and my eyes glued to the man in the chair not five feet from me. His biceps bulged under the t-shirt he wore, and the thick cock in his hand seemed to swell bigger and bigger as his hand shuttled up and down the shaft. I could feel my young pussy just dripping desire into my panties, and before I knew it, I had a hand up under my t-shirt and sliding over my bra to get at my aching nipples.
And then, he said my name.
My mind spun and my breath caught ragged in my throat as I watched my hunky older professor utter my name out loud as his cock just erupted in his hand. I watched, utterly transfixed, as his thick white cum spurted out to splash across the papers on his desk.
It was the first time I’d ever seen a man come.
His hand dropped from his cock, and suddenly I realized I was alone in the dark hallway with my legs squeezed together and my hand under my shirt and my bra, pulling at my nipple. In a flash, I darted away from the door, and walked as quickly and as silently as I could to the stairwell.
The door to my dorm room shuts with a click behind me, and it feels like it's the first time I’ve let the air out of my lungs since seeing him like that.
I’m still tingling, still feeling the rush of what I’ve just seen pounding through my veins as I notice the note from my roommate Ally lying on my pillow:
Out for the night at Jason’s ;)
I barely give it a second thought before I’m letting my shorts slip down my legs as I peel the t-shirt off my body. My bra follows, and I’m biting my lip and moaning quietly as my hands slide over them, cupping them and letting my fingers tease over the pink, sensitive nipples. I drop to my bed and let myself fall back into it as I slide my hands down my body to hook my thumbs into the waist of my panties. They kick from my feet easily, and then it’s just me, my fingers, and my wicked, dirty thoughts of Liam Martin.
I gasp as my fingers pull at my nipples, my skin warm to the touch as I imagine all sorts of things Professor Martin could do to me in his office with that jaw-dropping cock of his. I imagine touching it as my hands slide lower, over the soft skin of my torso and down to the hot, wet heat of my young pussy. I imagine what he’d feel like in my hands, and what he’d taste like on my tongue. My fingers slide easily through the slippery folds of my pussy, and I whimper as I imagine his hands there, touching and exploring me.
I leave one hand to slowly toy with my little clit as I reach over to my bedside table. Ally is gone, so it’s the perfect time for the toy I’d blushingly bought my first week at school.
The vibrator is small, but it has me gasping and arching my hips off the bed as soon as it touches me. I’m moaning as I roll it across my clit over and over, while my other hand pulls and pinches at my nipples, making my whole body writhe in the bed sheets. In my head, it’s him touching me, him owning my body and making me moan as he teaches me everything I’ve yet to learn.
In my mind, it’s Professor Martin holding me down and sliding into me. It’s hardly a feeling I can picture, having never experienced it, but he’s all I imagine that night. He’s all I imagine as my body begins to crash over the edge, and that wicked, forbidden imagine of his cock is all I can see as I cry out and go tumbling over the edge of my climax.
8
Ellie
Wednesdays is the late lecture with him.
Two days later - two days of positively aching for him, and two days of sneaking off to the shower to rub my pussy until I bit my hand to keep from crying out - I’m back in Professor Martin’s lecture hall.
It’s late, and it’s a Wednesday, and it's the class that most people show up to in dorm pants and t-shirts.
But I’m not.
I’m wearing a scoop-neck sweater, with nothing on underneath. One that’s a bit too small, and one that had my cheeks burning when I tried it on back in the room. It hugs my breasts in ways that I’d normally never wear it in public. But here in this lecture hall, I feel like it’s ju
st him and me, because I’m wearing it only for him.
I’m also wearing a short, pleated skirt; nothing scandalous, but one that shows off a bit more leg that I might normally wear to a classroom. I’m not even usually much of a skirt girl, but there’s something so lip-bitingly naughty about the way it swishes around my bare thighs, and the way the air seem to tease up my legs to my pussy, covered only by a lacy pair of white panties.
But it’s when he looks up from his podium as I walk in, and his gaze locks onto me, that the heat just blooms through my body. I can feel my skin tingle under his gaze, my nipples hardening to sensitive points under the thin, clinging scoop-neck, and my panties growing warmer and wetter. It feels so naughty, and so scandalous as I walk to my seat at the front of the lecture hall, not looking but knowing his eyes are following and devouring me every step of the way.
I take my seat, and carefully cross my legs, letting the skirt ride up a little higher. It’s then that I look up, and my heart about flip-flops in my chest as I’m met with the fierce gaze of Professor Martin.
He’s looking at me like he’s hungry; like a wolf who’s found his prey. I feel a shiver run down my back, my nipples hardening even more under my thin sweater as he holds my gaze a second longer before clearing his throat and reaching for his lecture notes.
I know the thoughts I’m having about him are wrong, and dangerous, and so wildly inappropriate, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but think about what I know he’s got between his legs, and I certainly can’t forget the way he said my name as he stroked it the other night in his office.
And that’s all I can think about as the lecture begins, and he starts to talk. I don’t hear a word he says though, and only one thought is going through my head as I watch him casually lean against the podium in his fitted jeans and tight black t-shirt. A single thought as his deep, powerful voice resonates over the hall, and his his dark, piercing eyes scan over the students before finally landing on me. Just burning into me.
I want him.
It’s a thought I’ve never had about anyone before, at least not like this. It’s a need; a wicked, burning desire that I can’t ignore. I’ve of course noticed cute boys before, and of course had thoughts that made me blush and made my body ache in ways I couldn’t ignore.
But this is like nothing I’ve felt.
This is primal, and raw, and nothing that might go away after a quiet, gasping little orgasm in the shower or buried in my pillow.
It’s so wrong, and he’s at least twice my age, not to mention my teacher. But he’s nothing like boys like Ted, or any of the other ones I’ve ever known.
And right then, it clicks. Right then, something falls into place, and suddenly, why I never gave it up to the boys in high school, or the ones here at college all makes sense.
It wasn't that I’d been shy or awkward, or gawky, or too busy. Those are all excuses, really, and they suddenly fall away as I sit there lost in my dark, forbidden fantasies about my professor.
It’s because they were boys, and what I want - what I’ve always wanted - is a man.
The idea of some frat jock flopping around and just sticking it in me is obviously a total turn off. The idea of being groped or fumbled with in some drunken night of shady half-memories is not how I want it to be.
But the thought of a man - a man like Liam Martin - taking me and showing me everything, gets me hotter than anything. The idea of submitting to him, and letting him slide inside of me for the first time has my panties soaked and my pulse pounding as I sit there in the lecture hall.
He’s talking about Hemingway, but he’s staring right at me. Me in my pleated short skirt that I borrowed from Ally, and the thin scoop-neck sweater that doesn’t quite fit me. He’s staring right at me as that last little piece falls into place in my mind, and I’m instantly and head-swimmingly turned on. I’m still not even hearing the words coming out of his mouth, and instead I’m picturing those lips kissing me, and tasting me in all sorts of places.
There’s a rush of that blooming through me as I feel the urge to play into this game of looking that we’re playing. He’s still lecturing as I slowly uncross my legs, feeling the thrill roar through me as I watch his eyes grow a bit wider, and his words stumble just a little bit as I flash him the quickest, most innocent glimpse of my little white panties. He finds his place and continues, but his eyes flick to mine and burn right into me, and I shiver.
I arch my back in my chair, letting my full, heavy breasts press against the thin material of my sweater, and I watch his eyes flash down over my body again, I uncross and recross my legs again, slower this time.
I’m so turned on, and my pulse is thundering through me as I’m picturing his cock. God he was so big. Again, I’ve got nothing to compare it to, but it’s thrilling to imagine something that big fitting inside someone.
Someone like me.
The bell rings, and the spell is shattered. He clears his throat again and drags his eyes back to the class as he reminds us all about the test next week, before he grabs his notes and storms out of the room.
And part of me pouts to see him leave so fast, but when he turns and gives me one last fiery look from the doorway, I feel a naughty shiver run through me. And then I’m wondering if the reason Professor Martin is exiting so fast is so that he can go to his office to stroke that wonderful cock again. Just the thought of it has my pulse skipping a beat as I squeeze my thighs together and feel the shiver run through me. It’s a thrill, wondering if I’m responsible for that. Part of me wonders if after catching glimpses and peeks of my young body all class, he needed to go stroke his big cock again.
The other part of me wants to find out.
And that’s the part that takes over as I find myself pushing through the rest of the students drifting out of the classroom. It’s the part of me that takes control as I swallow all my self-doubt and my trepidations, and any last hesitations as I climb the stairs to the floor above. And it’s the only part of me that matters as I find myself stepping quietly down the darkened hallway, heading towards the only faculty office with light still creeping out from under the door.
Professor Martin’s office.
Because I’ve already made up my mind, and there’s no going back.
9
Liam
I barely make it to my office, barely get behind closed doors before I’m growling and yanking at the buckle to my belt. My cock’s been hard enough to drive nails with the entire lecture, and it’s been that way because of her.
Ellie.
Her, sitting there like fucking original sin; like sweet untouchable temptation sitting front and center for my lecture. The scoop-neck shirt was enough to get my cock throbbing in my pants, but when she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, giving me that little flash of snow-white panty there in the shadows between her legs, it was enough to get my dick hard as diamond.
Part of me wants to think the little flash was on purpose, even if that’s so out of character for sweet little bookworm Ellie Thompson. On purpose or by mistake though, that little peek of white lace was enough to get me tripping over my words the whole damn lecture. It was enough to get images of that tight little body with those succulent little curves swimming through my head the whole class, to the point where I could barely concentrate on whatever the fuck I was saying.
And it was enough to get me here, ready to jerk my cock like some sort of horny teenager in my office again. Because I know she’s untouchable, but it only makes the hunger for her all the the more voracious.
I’m groaning as I reach into my pants and wrap my hand around my dick, but then comes the small knock on my office door.
I freeze, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping to God I made it up, but it comes tapping again. A tender, quick little knock that has me blowing my air out through a clenched jaw as I stuff my cock back into my pants and try and clear my head.
I take another deep breath, trying to get my heart back to a semi-normal pace, before I turn an
d jerk the door open.
Oh, fuck.
It’s her - every cock-throbbing, eye-popping, forbiddenly tempting inch of her. Her bright blue eyes are wide and blinking, her face flushed a gentle pink, and her strawberry blonde hair falls in tendrils, framing her soft face. Her chest rises and falls quickly with her breath, like she’s just run a mile or something, and I can’t even pretend to keep my eyes from dropping to those perfect, creamy white mounds as they heave beneath the scoop neck of her sweater.
“Um, Professor?”
I swallow and blink as I drag my eyes back up to hers, those soft, crystal blue eyes that I just get lost in. “Ellie, uh, hi.”
She bites her lip, looking so nervous and innocent and vulnerable. “You, um, you said I could stop by if I ever needed anything?” Her eyes dart quickly around my face before her brow furrows. “I’m so sorry, it’s probably too late.”
Her face goes red and she starts to turn, but I reach out and stop her with a hand on her arm.
Fuck she’s so warm. Her sleeves are pushed up a little over her forearm, and it’s there that my hand rests, skin on skin. And its soft, and flawless, and smooth, and I clench my jaw at the thought of running my hands over every single inch of her body to see how soft everything else is.
I clear my throat and force a smile to my face to cover the raw lust. “No, not at all, Ellie. I told you, I work late.” I wink as I let go of her arm and gesture. “Here, come on in.”
She bites her lip again, a grin teasing the corners of her mouth and her eyes flashing before she nods and steps past me into the mid-sized office lined with bookshelves.
I gesture towards the small loveseat against the wall. “What can I do for you?”
What can I do TO you, I want to growl out loud, picturing my cock sinking into that tight, yielding cunt.
