by Maren Smith
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered thickly, knowing it was what he wanted. I thought he would stop spanking then, but he wasn't done.
“Naughty, stubborn girls get Daddy's hand on their butt, and his finger inside their bottom.”
My stomach twisted and flipped at his threat, and at the deliciousness of being called a naughty girl. And at the unbelievable pleasure of it when, true to his word, his finger promptly inserted itself exactly where he’d promised it would go. He never stopped spanking me, not even when his digit invaded the tightness of my rim, despite the minute clench of defiance I couldn’t help offering. It never should have been so arousing to have a stranger’s finger pushing int0 my ass, but this was beyond good. It was thrilling, forbidden, and so wondrously shameful that I couldn’t help but fall in love with the funny things it was doing to my insides.
I was so damn aroused; I couldn't see straight.
But I was done with the spanking and the teasing. I wanted more, and I let him know that in no uncertain terms.
“Fuck me, please, Daddy,” I panted, adding Daddy as an afterthought to help me get what I wanted. “I want your cock.”
“Oh, you do, do you? Where do you want it, little girl? In your pussy? In your mouth? Or maybe you want it in your tight little bottom?”
I reared back, wrenching my head to look over my shoulder and caught the teasing twinkle in his eye. A finger was one thing but there was no way I was down for backdoor sex with someone I had just met, no matter how many of my fantasy buttons he was currently pushing.
“I want you inside me.” I caught his eye as I spoke.
He just winked at me, smacked my butt again, and pulled his finger out of my ass. “Tell Daddy you're sorry.”
Oh my god. My pussy was literally pulsing with need and this man was determined to drive me as insane as possible. He better be a damn good lay for everything he was putting me though.
“I'm sorry!” I cried when he lifted his hand at my hesitation, fully prepared to start his spanking all over again.
“That's a good girl.” He grabbed my ankles instead, flipping me onto my back. I was surprised to find that my bottom was tender and that it chafed against his bed covers.
“Ow!” I protested, pouting at him.
He was unfazed. “Does my naughty girl have a sore bottom? I'm not sorry, but we’ll see if we can take your mind off the pain for a while.”
That was the last thing he said before he was kneeling between my legs and before I could do more than catch my breath, lashed his tongue into the wetness of my quivering pussy lips. A thousand volts of electricity shot through my body with that one touch. I arched, thrusting my hips into his face as I bucked into his touch, begging him without words for more.
He gripped my hips, pulling me into his face, burying his beard between my legs as he devoured me in licks, nips and nuzzles that quickly turned my gasps into shouts. His hair abraded my tender skin, but it only enhanced the ecstasy. When he slid his fingers into me right along with his tongue, I grabbed the back of his head, sobbing with need.
What on god's green earth was he doing with that tongue of his? I couldn't think, could barely breathe, couldn't make heads or tails of the sensations. Every touch and ache and memory blended together to create a symphony in my mind and body. I wish I could say that my body was the violin, playing out the soulful melody of his touch, but in reality, I jerked and spasmed, and even tried to pull away as he worked his magic on my clit. He held me in place, forcing me into the mattress, and continued to wreak havoc with his tongue and fingers until a core of heat shot through me, burning me from the inside out.
I was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and every nerve in my body was on full alert. I went tense and still, as an orgasm unlike anything I’d ever felt before built and built.
I screamed as I came, a ragged cry that rose straight from my gut and left me panting as he licked my pussy, as if hungry to lap up every last drop of me.
When he finally released me, his beard glistened with the juices of my arousal. His smile was feral and predatory. He leaned over the bed and covered my body with his. “You still want Daddy's cock, little girl?”
God help me, I did. I wanted whatever he was willing to give, for as long as he was willing to give it.
“Yes, Daddy.” My throat burned when I answered, testimony to how he had made me scream.
It was only the first of many screams that he wrung from me that night. His cock was every bit as magical as his mouth and tongue, and fingers. He filled me.
He broke his bed with me. Maybe not literally, but it felt that way long before he was done. And through it all, ‘yes, Daddy’ was the mantra that he made me cry until I was coming so hard that I bawled.
The sun was just beginning to rise, its amber glow peeking through the blinds before we finally fell asleep.
When I woke a few hours later, sticky and sleepy, still wrapped in his arms, it was only because my alarm went off, reminding me that I had a summer school orientation to get to for my college classes. My political science professor for the fall term offered extra credit for anyone still needing to meet the minimum qualifications for his class. It wasn’t difficult, we’d just be attending protests and rallies during the summer months. I had never been to a protest before, but I was short the necessary credits. It seemed like it might be an easy A, although I wouldn’t know for sure unless I got my tired ass out of bed and to today’s orientation.
If I didn’t hurry, I wasn’t going to make it.
“Shit!” I muttered, scrambling out of his embrace. I hissed a sharp breath as my ass bounced on the mattress before scuttling off of it. There wasn’t time to rub away the lingering tenderness. I ran through the house, gathering what articles of clothing I had torn off on our way to the bedroom last night, and hastily dressed. When I made it back to the room to grab my panties, he was blinking up at me, with a lazy smile.
“Come back to bed,” he cajoled. “It’s Saturday.”
“I can’t,” I answered, fully regretful. My whole body dragged with sleepiness, and I had a niggling of a headache behind my eyes. Bed sounded lovely. His bed sounded even better.
Stupid summer extra credit courses.
“I have somewhere I have to be,” I admitted. “A prior engagement. And I really need to get home and change. Is there any way you could give me a ride home? Or no, don’t worry about it, I’ll just call an Uber.”
“Don’t you dare,” he growled, apparently awake enough to be a bit alpha-hole. “Just let me take a two-minute shower and throw on some clean clothes. I have an appointment later today too. In fact, what time is it?”
“It’s 10:15,” I answered trying to keep the panic out of my voice. Orientation was at eleven, and I had no idea what part of town I was even in, currently.
“Oh shit,” Reed hissed, jumping out of bed, and heading toward his master bath. “Two-minute shower and let me brush my teeth. I had no idea it was so late.”
The next time I saw him, he was fully dressed in nice jeans and a royal blue polo with a toothbrush sticking out between his lips.
“Be right there. I have a meeting at eleven too.”
“Oh crap! I’m so sorry! I don't want to put you out or make you late. I’ll Uber.”
“No, you absolutely will not,” he reiterated. “A gentleman does not make a lady Uber.”
He finished brushing his teeth, grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and slipped his feet into a pair of loafers.
“I just need to know where you live and where your meeting is.”
“I can drive myself to my meeting,” I reminded him gently as we made our way out the door and into his car. “But, for the record,” I added as I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled myself in, “it's at the college.”
His soft gasp and narrowed eyes surprised me, and I wondered for a minute if I had done something wrong.
“No kidding!” he exclaimed. “So is mine.”
That right there was the u
niverse’s second hint that things were not as golden or as wonderful as I’d thought last night had been. Sadly, I missed that hint. Who wouldn’t? Still coming down off a night of hot, straight out of the pages of a book, fantasy sex with a man who only got more perfect with every passing minute, I was completely unprepared to get blindsided.
“You go to Ardor Beach University? I haven’t seen you around,” I stated softly, even though my heart was pounding like a jackhammer.
“I’m new.” He answered with a shrug. “But we could ride together. And afterward we could get coffee and exchange numbers.”
“That sounds nice,” I answered, barely able to breathe with how excited I was. By the time we pulled into the lot of the apartment I shared with my mom, I was beside myself with happiness and possibilities.
“Five minutes,” I said, bumping the door shut with my hip, and giving what I hoped was a flirty wave.
Upstairs, I zoomed through a quick shower, ran a brush through my hair and changed into clean clothes. A quick teeth brushing routine and a spritz of body spray and I was on my way.
We drove to the college in quiet chatter, mostly about the night before and how glad we were to have met. We talked about what kind of foods we liked and where we might go for our lunch date after.
We did not discuss our respective meetings, or what classes we were taking or anything of the sort.
When we reached the college, we made plans to meet back at the front steps in two hours after our respective meetings were over. Then we parted ways, and I walked away practically floating on air and counting down the minutes until I saw him again.
I didn’t expect that our separation would be as brief as it was until I walked into orientation for my summer semester political science class a mere forty minutes later. I certainly didn’t expect to see Reed standing in the front of the room, behind a podium with Political Science 101 Professor Reed Donaldson scrawled on the board behind him.
To his credit, he looked just as shocked as I felt when I took a seat in the back corner of the classroom.
He was my teacher.
I had fucked my extra credit professor, the man whose class I had to take if I wanted a spot in the next semester’s political science class.
I needed this class.
I needed these credits.
Apparently, I needed them so much that I had unwittingly fucked dear teacher to get them.
Oh… god… I kept my head down through the entire thirty-minute orientation and barreled out of there just as soon as the presentation was over.
I heard him call my name as I jetted down the hallway, but I didn’t stop.
I took an Uber home.
Chapter Three
Reed
September
The first day of school. I was actually a little surprised to see Amy show up in my classroom and take a seat in the center row. I guess I shouldn't have been. After all, she had attended each and every one of the extra credit protests I’d put together all summer long. But after what happened between us, I really had thought she would drop out.
Or maybe that had been wishful thinking.
I had tried the day after our illicit but oh so amazing one-night stand to chase after her when she hightailed it out of the classroom, but in a hallway crowded with my students and colleagues, I had to be discreet. I had walked quickly after her, without calling out, but had gotten waylaid by the dean. When I finally made it out to the parking lot, she’d been gone. Guess she’d gotten that Uber after all.
All summer long, I tried to put her out of my mind. I’d even tried a few dating apps, but nothing had ever gone anywhere. And then, just when I thought I might be able to move on, she would show up at a protest or planning event. One glimpse of her voluptuous curves, and all I could see were my memories of her lying face down and ass up against my mattress, my fist wrapped up in her luscious auburn locks, mewling as I took her from behind, pounding into her, demanding that she call me Daddy until the title fell unbidden from her lips with every plunging thrust. I could still hear the way she’d screamed it, her head tossed back as she came. She had ruined me. And she was off limits. And now I had to stand here, with her in my direct line of vision, every single fucking day while I attempted to remember what the fuck class I taught and how to teach it.
Hell. My palms were sweaty as I stumbled my way through my well-rehearsed speech and called roll. I tried to match faces to names, but I only saw her. I could feel myself growing hard and was thankful for the podium I was standing behind. I was going to get a reputation for never moving from behind it if every day was like this.
Thankfully, my class synopsis was available to them all through a document I had uploaded to a drive and distributed through email. No more printing six-page documents and passing them out to 60 students. I had never been so grateful for modern day technology as I looked down to see my slacks fully tented with the length of my erection.
I muddled through the hour-long class on autopilot as I recited from the synopsis and wondered how I would make it through the next four months with her as my student. When I had taken the teaching position in the class due to an emergency that day in July, I hadn’t anticipated sharing a night of tawdry sex with the woman of my dreams and then having her turn out to be one of my students. That definitely had not been part of the plan. Now that I had the job, I couldn't afford to lose it. Teaching jobs were few and far between and despite my fancy-pants ivy league education, jobs like this one often went to older people with more experience. Temporary or not, I could not afford to fuck this up.
The idea of losing my job was the thing that finally stifled my erection and I stepped out from behind the podium just in time for a bell to signal the class was over.
I sighed and scanned the retreating crowd. Amy was still in her seat, fumbling with her book bag. “Miss Stinger,” I said, far more sharply than I meant to.
She, and everyone still in the vicinity, looked up at me.
“I need to speak with you, please.” I lowered my voice an octave this time. Amy frowned, but nodded, and I dismissed the room, then hurriedly busied myself with scanning my planner and going over my schedule for the day, even though I knew I had fifty minutes between this class and the next one.
Amy stayed at her seat as the students filed out, and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. When everyone had left, she looked up at me and I crooked my finger in a 'come here' gesture.
As I had expected, she grudgingly obeyed.
“Miss Stinger,” I greeted when she approached, straightening my tie as I stood up and stepped away from my desk. I could already feel myself getting hard again.
“Mr. Donaldson.” Her retort was packed with accusatory vitriol. “You know, I went home and checked my records. You're not even listed as a poli-sci professor. I can't find any record of you being the teacher of this class.”
“An emergency fill-in position opened up. I took it. It will more than likely be temporary. Certainly not longer than a year. Perhaps you should take this class at a later date.”
“My minor is in political science and this course is a prerequisite of everything that follows it. I can't drop it, or trust me, I would have. Maybe you should learn to refrain from having one-night stands with your students.”
Sucking in sharply, I stepped closer. “Had I known you would be my student, I would not have slept with you, and make no mistake, little girl, had you not been my student, it would not have been a one-night stand.”
This time it was she who sharply inhaled, and I knew my words had gotten to her. She shifted her stance in a way that made me wonder if she was remembering our last encounter. Was her pussy growing wet from it? I swear I could smell the sweet heady musk of feminine arousal. It was a scent that haunted my dreams from the moment I’d met her.
“So, you're the teacher, and I can't drop the class.” There was a sad dullness in her eyes as she spoke. “What do we do now, then?”
We stay away from each other
, suffer through our feelings, and maintain a professional and proper student-teacher relationship until the class is over.
That was what I planned to say. It was the proper and, frankly, only thing I could say. It’s not what I said.
Between her wide eyes gazing longingly up at me from beneath dark lashes, and her full lips curved into a pout, the smell of her sweet juices assaulting my nose, and the memory of how good my cock had felt inside her, I lost sight of any good and proper intentions I may otherwise have had.
I stepped close enough to cup the back of her neck with my hand, my fingers pulling lightly on her auburn curls. “We don't get caught,” I growled, a split second before my lips closed over hers.
The kiss was long and deep, punishing and soft all at once, and full of unspoken emotion. In the back of my mind I told myself I just wanted one—just one more kiss. But from the moment my lips touched hers, there was no going back.
When we pulled away, our foreheads still touched, as if we couldn't bear to be apart. She was softly panting. Hell, so was I. But tearing her clothes off and taking her over the desk right here was not a good attempt at being discreet.
Amy touched her lips with her fingers, and her eyes never left mine. “Now what?”
The feral growl came from deep within me as I glared at the clock. Somehow twenty minutes had passed since the bell, and now not only did I need to prepare for my next class, I needed to get rid of my raging erection before it started.
“Now,” I said sharply, putting my hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the door, “you get to your next class. I'll call you tonight.”
“You don't have my number!”
“I have all my student’s numbers.” I sent her on her way with a sharp swat to her skirt covered behind and watched her shimmy as she walked out the door.
Two thoughts hit me simultaneously: What have I just done? And, I can’t wait to have her in my bed again.
Daddy was back.
