I freeze, then my brain clicks back on and I let a slow smile take my face. “Excellent work, Miss Phillips.” I point to a line in her work. “You’ll notice she did a bit of multi-tasking in this line, both solving for X and reorg’ing the integers. That’s fine, or you could break that out into two steps if you’d prefer.”
“Oh,” she says with a jump. Marker still in her hand, she approaches me and then adds a closing parenthesis to one of the lower lines. “Got it.”
I dip my chin, my voice husky. “Good catch. You’re learning.”
Clearing my throat, I address the room. “All right, class dismissed until Wednesday. Complete problems ten through twenty-five in unit five to be prepared, as we’ll be moving on to the next section.”
There’s a hint of a groan at the homework assignment, but I’m already out the door, rushing to my office to get some needed space before I do something supremely stupid.
Daisy
Professor Daniels basically bolts from the room after dismissing class. But after his help on Friday night—with my math work, not my orgasm—I feel like I should thank him again. Especially for the compliment that has reaffirmed my love affair with math once again, something I felt was in jeopardy with his harsh grading.
I knock twice on his office door, waiting until I hear his gruff permission to enter. I open the door tentatively. “Professor Daniels?”
I step in the office, closing the door behind me. I swear his eyes skate along my body, head to toe and back up to meet my eyes. It happens so fast, it could be my imagination. But there is something in his eyes as he stares at me. I can’t decide if it’s anger or lust, but there is definitely heat.
“Can I help you with something, Miss Phillips?” he asks, his voice tight as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps bulge against his black t-shirt, and I realize that instead of a little alligator on the chest, there’s a pi symbol. A math joke, but the look on his face is anything but funny.
I hesitate. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. But telling him thank you can’t be a bad thing, right? “No, I just wanted to say thank you again for the help Friday night.”
He flinches, although I don’t know why. “No problem. That’s what I’m here for, to teach you.” He gulps.
I’m not sure what to say. I’m used to his being this powerhouse of cocky asshole, but right now, he seems almost nervous around me. “I know. And I’m learning. I definitely am. So I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate the extra help and the kind words about my work.” My nerves are getting the better of me, my mouth rambling and my brain not stopping it. “I was getting concerned that maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a math major, so hearing that you think I have potential really reassured me. I promise to show you just what I’m capable of.”
He groans. He legit lets out a deep, throaty noise that makes me think of sex.
“I heard you, Daisy.” He says it and then snaps his mouth shut like he hadn’t meant to let the words out. I’m confused. Of course, he heard me. I just talked to him. I tilt my head questioningly.
He swallows like he wishes he could take the words back, but with a fortifying breath, he says, “I heard you . . . Friday night.” He emphasizes the words with a lift of his eyebrows.
And suddenly, I realize what he means. “Oh, God. This cannot be happening.” I shake my head, the flush already rushing to my cheeks as I bury my face in my hands.
He gets up, rushing around his desk and squatting down beside me. “It’s okay, Daisy. Nothing to be embarrassed about. We all have needs and it’s perfectly natural to take care of them. I don’t know what happened to the chat window. I tried to tell you, but you couldn’t hear me.”
I lift my face, bravely meeting his eyes. “But you could hear me?”
He nods but looks off to the side. I feel in my gut that he’s not being fully truthful with me.
“Could you . . . uhm, could you see me?” I ask, my voice soft. I’m still embarrassed, mortified, actually, but there’s a heat in my core. A small part of me is turned on by his witnessing my private moment.
“No, I couldn’t see you. Just a black window. I swear it.” He takes my hands in his as he shakes his head.
“But you listened. You know what I was doing, heard my fantasy?” I’m not sure what I want his answer to be. The only reason I was able to say those things was because I was alone. But the humiliation of his turning down my semi-offered proposal Friday night is being replaced completely by the idea that he listened, and more importantly, that he liked what he heard.
He swallows, but I can see the smirk teasing his lips. He did like it. The knowledge gives me courage that I ordinarily wouldn’t possess. Though his hands are holding mine in comfort, I move my palms down my thighs, slipping my skirt up higher. His hands follow my movements, not guiding me but going along for the ride wherever I take them.
“Daisy . . .” he warns, but his eyes are locked on the line where my thighs disappear under my skirt. I move up another inch.
“Do you want to see?” I ask, biting my lip hopefully. Any embarrassment I felt is gone as his hands clench mine tightly. He probably means to stop me, but I take it as encouragement. I lift my skirt the rest of the way, my white cotton panties coming into view.
“Fuck . . .” he whispers. He places his hands on my thighs, and at the slightest pressure, I spread for him. “I can already see you’re soaked for me,” he growls, taking a big inhale. I’ve never thought of my scent being anything special, but he seems to savor it like it’s a treat.
I move my fingers down, rubbing along my pussy through the cotton, so much like my fantasy that I can’t help but say the same things again. “You already know what you do to me. I’m soaked for you every damn day, making myself come to your arrogant grins and that cock you keep hidden in your jeans.” I thought I’d be too shy to say these things to him, but his heated gaze makes me want to tell him all my filthy thoughts.
“Show me.” It’s not a request. It’s an order. One I happily obey. I pull my panties to the side, my bare mound and glistening lips coming into view, but he shakes his head. I have a second of doubt. Did I read this wrong? But then his hands are reaching up on my hips, pulling my panties down and off. He stuffs them in his back pocket and his hands go back to my thighs, spreading me even wider. “So fucking pretty, Daisy,” he says reverently. “Now show me.” His commanding tone is gravel-rough on my skin, the vibrations tickling and tantalizing.
I let my fingers trace through my folds, gathering my juices and slicking up to my engorged clit. He watches as I touch myself, his breathing matching my quickening pace. His gaze is hot, a palpable thing as I take myself higher and higher.
“Touch me?” I ask, but I can hear the pleading tone in my voice.
But he shakes his head. “I can’t . . . I shouldn’t. This is so fucking wrong.” He’s visibly fighting with himself, holding onto what’s left of his control by a thread. I want to cut that thread, see and feel him unleashed with no holds barred.
“Just one finger, Professor Daniels? One finger in my virgin pussy so I have something to squeeze against? I’m so close. Please,” I beg.
“Goddamn it, Daisy.” But even as he curses me, he rewards me, giving me the single finger I so desperately need. He teases my opening. “Are you really a virgin?”
I bite my lip and nod, his acquiescence driving me to the edge of craziness.
“This sweet little pussy has never been fucked hard and filled with cum?” I moan at his words, and then again as he slowly slips his thick finger inside. I feel every inch as he fills me and retreats to do it again, maddeningly slow.
I rub my clit faster, on the edge from the feeling of any part of him inside me. I manage to gasp out, “I’m coming, Professor.”
He leans forward and growls in my ear, finger deep in my pussy. “Daisy, you had no problem calling me Connor when you came to a fantasy of me. Call me by my name when you come for me now.”
“Yes, Connor. Fuck!” I don’t close my eyes, needing to see him to believe this is real as I come hard. My body bows up, searching for every bit of pleasure he’ll give me, and the waves crash and crash over me, one after another. I’m panting when I see him slip his finger from me, the loss instant and significant. But when he lifts his finger to his mouth and sucks my juices, savoring them the way he did my scent, I’m struck with a thought.
“Now you,” I say, not a question.
“What?” he asks, still seemingly lost in the moment.
“When you listened to me, did you touch yourself? Did you jack off your big cock as you heard me calling out your name?” I can tell by his grin that he did.
“And what if I did?” The words are a challenge, a dare if ever I heard one.
“Show me.”
I can see the argument formulating in his mind, the words on the tip of his tongue. But he squashes them. In for an ounce, in for a pound, I guess. “You sure you can handle this?” He’s still challenging me, the words so similar to the last time I was in his office and freaked out over some innuendo.
But I’m not freaking this time. No way, no how. Look at me, a fucking vixen I never would’ve suspected I was capable of being. But he brings it out in me, like so many other things. I bite my lip and nod, encouraging him.
He stands, resting back against his desk, and his hard cock pressing against his jeans comes into view. My eyes flicker to it, my mouth instantly watering. Jesus, I’ve never even touched a dick before . . . but all I can think of right now is swallowing every inch of what he’s got.
His deft fingers unbuckle his belt, then he undoes the button and zipper, slipping his jeans down his hips a bit. His cock is pulsing beneath the fabric of his black boxer briefs. And then he lowers them, his cock coming into view.
“You’re . . . beautiful,” I whisper, taking in his cock. Maybe that’s not the conventional word for a man’s dick, but he is. Smooth and thick, with a vein pulsing along each side of his length and a round head that’s already leaking fluid.
He wraps his hand around the shaft, pumping himself a few times. “Is this what you want to see?” he says. His voice almost sounds . . . angry? I tear my eyes away from the sexy show he’s putting on to look up to his face. He looks tortured, like this is hurting him.
“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned and confused. I thought guys liked this and did this all the time, so why does he seem furious?
“No, it’s not fucking okay, Daisy. You’re my student, I’m your professor, and this is wrong. But I can’t stop. You’re . . . so fucking sexy, and I want your eyes on me, watching what you do me the way I just watched what I do to you.” The words are stilted, in time with the thrust of his hips as he fucks his hand.
My heart rate speeds up. He’s not in pain. He’s fighting himself, fighting this over some sense of right and wrong. But I want this. So fucking badly.
I grab his thighs where they’re spread in front of me. “Let me. Teach me.” I don’t wait for him to answer. I just wrap my hands around his. My first touch of cock is . . . warm and silky soft. I try to wrap my fingers around him and fail, not able to hold him completely in one hand. The tip is beautiful, flared and wide, making me marvel at how it could fit inside me . . . and what that ridge would do as it plowed in and out of my pussy.
I lick my lips, letting my hand caress down to his balls, huge and heavy. I look back up at him, almost pleading for him to guide me because I don’t know what I’m doing.
He switches our position, laying his hands over mine and showing me how to stroke him. Once I have the hang of it, he lets go to let me be in control of the pace. His hands go to the edge of the desk behind him, gripping hard as he throws his head back in pleasure, groaning quietly.
A drop of precum pearls on his tip, and I’m struck with the need to taste him. I stick my tongue out, lapping at him like a kitten, his flavor bursting across my tongue, and I moan in delight.
“Fuck, Daisy. You don’t have to. Your hands on me feel so good.”
I want more of those noises, guttural vibrations that make my pussy quiver in need. And so I lean forward in the chair to take him in my mouth, letting him stretch my lips wide as I suck his tip and swirl my tongue around, hoping for more of his precum. He lets me explore for a bit and then takes control.
I moan as Connor starts fucking my face slowly, pumping in and out of my eager lips. He’s so much that each time his cock hits the back of my throat, I feel like I’m going to gag, but I don’t care. I want . . . I want to be his naughty student, and I suck as eagerly as I can, worshipping his pulsating manhood as he looks down into my eyes. “That’s it,” he says as I run my tongue around his shaft. “That’s a good girl. See if you can take it all for me.”
His hips speed up, my pussy clenching around the ghost of what I want as his cock swells, and I moan again around him. “Now!” Connor growls, thrusting hard in my mouth. I feel the head of his cock slip into my throat before it swells, and suddenly, he’s coming, pulling back slightly to fill my mouth with his sweet and salty cream. I moan again deeply, my thighs quivering as he empties himself into my mouth.
When he’s done, he looks down, smiling. “Fuck, Daisy. That was . . . fuck.”
It might be the best compliment he’s ever given me. The thought that I can reduce such a brilliant mind to babbling is a powerful boost to my first-timer’s nerves.
He tucks himself back into his boxers and jeans and then pulls me to standing. I realize this is the first time I’ve ever stood this close to him, body to body, sharing the same space. He towers over me by several inches, and when he wraps his arms around me, I feel safe in the cocoon of his presence.
And then he kisses me. I know he can probably taste himself on my tongue, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he demands entry. It’s a kiss of promise, that this isn’t over, that we’re not done.
But the spell is broken when I hear a soft ding. He breaks apart, pressing his forehead to mine as he cups my face. “I have to go. That’s my ten-minute warning for my next class. And I don’t think it’ll look good if I go in with a hard-on.”
I grin, sassing back. “Actually, I prefer class when you’re hard. Makes the math that much more challenging because I’m distracted. I’ll be even more distracted now.”
He swats my ass over my skirt. “Cheeky brat. It’s usually not a problem, except when I have a sexy student in my front row, chewing on her pencils as she studies me as much as the math.”
I grin, letting my hand dip down to trace his soft length in his jeans. “Oh, I’m studying, all right. Have a good class, Professor.”
And with a laugh, I open the door, realizing it’d been unlocked the whole time. Shit, that could’ve been bad if we’d been caught. Luck must be on our side, though, because we weren’t disturbed at all. It’s not until I’m walking down the hallway that I feel a slight breeze on my pussy and realize he kept my panties. I almost turn back to retrieve them but decide I’d rather he kept them.
Connor
That was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. From the way she looked, eagerly taking me in her mouth, to the way she wrapped her hand around my cock in wonder, almost worshipping it before I pumped in and out of her hungry mouth. Fuck, if we had time, I would’ve loved to watch her rub herself with my cock in her mouth. Talk about fucking hot.
And she took instruction well, not surprisingly, considering how quick she catches on in class. I grin to myself. Class. It seems I might be instructing Daisy in two subjects soon. One can dream.
Still, as I head to the break room, wanting to grab a better coffee than what my poor office machine can provide, I can’t help but worry. We didn’t just cross a line. We obliterated that motherfucker and left it so far in the dust that I can’t ever go back. I’m risking getting fired, losing my reputation, losing everything I’ve busted my ass for.
Worst of all, I couldn’t help myself. Daisy creates such a deep need in me that I would have done nearly an
ything to have her like that. That’s dangerous, because now that I’ve had a taste . . . there’s no way it ends here. No way I’m going to quit while I’m ahead. That pussy is mine.
As my students arrive and I start going into the nuances of Cauchy-Riemann equations, I can’t help but think about Daisy. My mind wavers back and forth between what I want and what is proper.
I really should tell her we can’t continue this. It’s too dangerous, and I can’t take the risk. Still, every time I think of even her name, I’m spellbound by the image of her wet pussy pressed up against those sheer white panties and the thought that she has never felt a man inside her yet . . . and I could be the first.
It’s a miracle that I make it through my presentation and dismiss the class.
* * *
By Wednesday’s class, I’m desperate to see her again even as the battle between my brain and my cock rages on. So far, my greedy desire is winning hands-down.
Daisy walks in, head held high, in another skirt paired with a V-neck T-shirt that shows her cleavage off delightfully. She looks casual but sexy as fuck. She spins a bit as she sits, her skirt flaring to flash an enticing hint of upper thigh. Her eyes snap to mine, making sure I saw her show, and there’s a moment of freeze, where I’m holding my body in place by force, fighting against the urge to kiss her hello. That would be the kiss of death to my career, and we both know it.
She smirks a bit, knowing what her outfit and her sass do to me. Bratty girl needs a lesson. And I’m just the teacher to give her one.
The class is painfully slow, torture for us both as I loom near her desk in the middle of the front row. But I don’t make eye contact with her. That’d let her win this round. Instead, I keep my eyes scanning the room, calling on everyone except her, but I can feel her attention on me the whole time. I feel the heat of her gaze on my ass and on my crotch when I turn to face each side of the room. I sense her crossing and uncrossing her legs as I drive her crazy, teasing her with what she wants and knowing she can’t have in the middle of class.
The Virgin Diaries Page 4
