Having Cake

I didn't always intend to be face fuck by my professor. The first time I set foot in his office it was honestly for help. The constant emails reminding us that finals were coming up drew me to his office hours seeking guidance and leniency, so I wandered in hoping to get what I wanted. He took his cock out instead and told me that if I wanted to succeed I better get comfortable on my knees.

I graduated that spring and I passed the quarter with a 3.75 GPA, I suppose that tells you just how successful I was. New job, new boyfriend, new possibilities. But 6 months later, I still always ended up on my knees in Professor Shaw's office every Wednesday night at 9:30pm. These blow jobs got me glowing recommendation letters and a new found love of choking on dick. I couldn't just go somewhere else to get my fill, it had to be him for some reason. He'd always filled my mouth perfectly.

Professor Shaw grabbed the back of my head and shoved himself deep with a sigh of relief.

"Your mouth is so warm and wet, sweet girl."

He moaned as his hand gripped a puff of my curls. Professor Shaw tipped my head back and stared into my eyes while he thrust slowly and firmly. My eyes watered and I couldn't stop tears from rolling down my cheeks.

This position was always so intense for me, but this was only the beginning. He got his trademark mischievous smile and I prepared myself for what came next with a few deep gulps of air. My jaw was practically locked, but he stood from the chair he was seated in, dragged me by my hair to a nearby window, and roughly fucked my face to our imaginary audience.

He stared out of the window, my mouth just a tool for his pleasure. My eyes watered and I gagged profusely, but Professor Shaw didn't let up.

Soon his hands clasped behind my head and my nose met the base of his pelvis. I looked up at him and he stood triumphantly over me, his girthy cock oozing precum down my throat while he made small pumps. His mouth was open in a soundless gasp, but his eyes stayed trained out of the window. He always stared out of this window while he fucked my face, sometimes growling softly as he did it. He pulled the length of it out of my mouth and rubbed his slobbery dick down on my face.

"Tongue out, princess."

Professor Shaw's gaze refocused on me momentarily to give direction. Quickly my tongue was on my chin and he rubbed his balls onto it as he jerked himself onto my forehead. I couldn't make out his face, but his body hunched and his knees were bent with pleasure. He was focused on getting every last drop out. When I felt the warmth of his cum leaking out onto my forehead I opened my eyes just in time to see the first massive shot over my lips and nose. Into my eye it went, but I didn't complain. This what a well trained toy was meant for, as he had always put it.

He slumped into the chair opposite me and offered me a towel from a small storage container nearby. I wiped my face, carefully blinking the cum from my eye into the towel until the burn subsided. I sat on my knees between his legs, wearing only my bra and panties in front of him and nuzzled the towel in my lap. Shaw's body quaked softly, his black body hair laying slick against his body as soft beads of sweat slipped down his torso. He looked down at me and reached for my face offering a pet. I leaned in to oblige.

"You've gotten quite good at that. It seems to be the only thing I've taught you that has stuck," He jokingly said.

I looked up at him and beamed a smile in his direction.

"It's truly the only thing I need to know, you weren't wrong about that. Luckily, it can be my secret weapon for emergencies only. I come here to keep my reflexes strong," I said.

I laid my head into his lap, his thighs still wet from saliva and cum. We sat like this for a moment, and when it passed it was time for me to go.

I stood and began putting my top on over my lingerie. He stood behind me and pulled me in close to nuzzle my neck and nibble.

"It's getting late, won't your wife be missing you?" I asked.

He was married after all, most of the staff here were. His wife was an alum and fellow professor, a pretty woman whose picture hung on the wall near the science department offices. She was beautiful, blond and round faced with a soft smile. Surely, she would notice her husband being out so late.

"She goes to bed early, I'm not worried about her. I was thinking of maybe exploring you more than I have. You have a wonderful mouth, I can only imagine what your holes feel and taste like," His voice was playfully lusty, as if coming all over my face wasn't enough.

He kissed me again on the neck while gliding a hand into my panties. My hand stopped him short of my clit, and he retreated out with defeat.

"Not going to happen, Captain. We've had this talk before. I don't fuck married men."

I was bold face lying of course. I had screwed around with my fair share of married men but there was a price and a process for my pleasure, a price that some men almost too happily paid.

I needed their wives to know.

I'm not sure how it started, but I always saw how my friends' parents looked at me once puberty came and went. What was before empty gazes reserved for prattling young children was replaced by a few distinct looks: Lust, disgust with oneself/spouse/or myself, and almost always desire mixed in with both. I relished those stares. I felt like a God when I saw my friends' mothers wither before me. Here I was, perky pretty brown tits, a head full of curls shooting in all directions, an athletic build that can fuck for days; of course they withered, especially when they noticed their husbands noticing. I didn't notice at first but when I did it became the center of every dirty dream. When I fucked my first married man, he took a video for his wife and he made me whimper with joy. I screamed louder knowing she couldn't pleasure him the way I could. I came harder knowing that he hadn't been with someone like me and he knew that I knew.

From that moment on, the wives needed to know and they needed to see. Professor Shaw couldn't risk it, not when his wife works at the same university. I wouldn't allow him to risk it. So I kept my little fetish to myself. That also means I never let him see more than tits and he hadn't so much as felt my pussy through the underwear prior to this moment.

Professor Shaw pushed his soft cock against my ass and whispered in my ear.

"You don't fuck married guys, but you'll drain their balls all over your face if they want it that way. Do you think my wife does that? My wife doesn't care what I do, I'm fine doing whatever I want. You're included in that."

I stood with my back turned to him still and he gripped my hips, bending me into the edge of his desk. He wanted to fuck me so bad, even though his dick was clearly spent. He pressed himself against me and rocked me back and forth against him.

"No, Shaw," I said wearily.

This time he pulled away from me and I turned to face him as he dressed.

He was a large man, 6' at the shortest with a thick build and even thicker dick. He was older, but not so advanced in years that he seemed grandfatherly. His graying black hair and green eyes gave him a sort of intensity that I found mysterious and sexy. When I took his Philosophy class my senior year we jokingly called him Professor McHotty. Not exactly original, but it stuck. His arms were strong but his hands delicate and soft. I always wondered what his fingers would feel like in my pussy while he rubbed my clit. Wondered, but never experienced.

"If your wife doesn't care then tell her. I think you talk a big game about her not caring but as reality has it, she'd care a hell of a lot about her Professor husband fucking a previous student and recent grad on campus at the same university she teaches at. If that's the case, my cunt and I have a boyfriend who is more than willing to take care of us and his wife knows."

"What do you mean by his wife? I thought you don't fuck marry men," His face looked amused and puzzled as he slid his socks back on.

"That may have been an overstatement. I don't fuck married men without their wife's permission and audience, something that's sure to get you fired."

I was expecting him to laugh, smile, or respond in some fashion. Instead he looked out the window again, this time gazing for a long time before reaching down and tying his shoes.

"We'll see about that," was all he said in return.

Professor McHotty and his mysterious ways always intrigued me and I considered if he'd really do it. Probably not, but he had already surprised me before. Maybe he'd surprise me again.

Chapter 2

When it came time for our weekly meeting on Wednesday, I sent the usual text.

Me: Good afternoon, Professor Shaw. Would it be OK if I stopped by your office this evening to discuss some upcoming work projects? I'd appreciate your feedback and support.

He'd usually message back something along the lines of "Yes, of course," or if he was being cheeky he'd said, "Send me a formal email request and I might be available."

Today's text back was different in every way.

Shaw: "Janaé, I'll be down in Science Room 1 this evening at 9:30pm. Please meet me there with the following - a notepad, a pen and water. See you at 9:30pm."

Why would I need a notepad to suck dick? This is just getting out of hand. Still, at 8:30 I dug through my drawers and pulled together the items. When I got to the Science building it was absolutely abandoned besides my car and Shaw's. He wanted to get freaky in a different part of campus than his office, clearly. Maybe our little rendezvous was boring him. Who knows, I thought.

I walked into the science building from the propped open door and down the hall to Science Room 1. I knew why he picked it, it was a perfect place to screw around without being noticed. The room was in the South Wing of the building in a dark corner out of the way of prying eyes. The only view directly into the room came from the small windows that allowed natural light in during the daytime and a small glass window on the door. When I came up to the door, I could see Shaw sitting at the desk looking at the monitor intently. His face looked strained but also relaxed, as if he was waiting for something but knew it would be worth the wait. He seemed to be talking, I thought it was to himself. I walked into the room and caught a glimpse of who he was actually talking to.

His wife.

Quickly, Professor Shaw snapped his attention to me and the look of strain on his face only got more pervasive.

"Janaé, this is my wife, Professor Angela Shaw. Say hello."

Professor Angela Shaw was a well respected professor and it was clear she was working towards more administrative roles at the university. My stomach dropped when I saw her, but I attempted to keep my cool. I placed my notepad and bag on the table and glanced at her again.

Her slate blue eyes pierced every angle of me. Shaw had her tied her into a chair in the corner, her mouth sealed shut and her breast exposed and red from what looked like an intense tit torture session. Angela's hair clung to her face wet with tears and sweat. Her makeup was smeared and runny, her yellow skirt suit had light mascara stains on it from her tears hitting the blazer. Angela's head hung low, but her eyes were staring up at me for help.

My stomach was sitting in my ass when I turned back to Shaw who calmly continued typing at his keyboard without looking up this time.

I walked to the desk and softly said, "Shaw, what the hell are you doing? You can't seriously act like shit is normal around here."

"I'm not acting like everything is normal, I'm finishing work so I can focus on this ordeal to its fullest. Take a seat and get comfortable," he saidnimbly.

. He pointed at a chair directly next to him and persisted typing again. I looked at Angela again, she looked so dejected and defeated.

Silence and a short staring contest followed. I was being defiant and I couldn't tell if it turned him on or off by his blank expression. I stayed glued to the corner of the desk unmoving and he returned to his typing.

"Suit yourself."

"What did you do to her to get her here? If you think attacking your wife is an aphrodisiac you're gravely mistaken, you dick. I'm untying her," I said as the anger and anxiety became palpable in my voice. I was shaking badly, but I couldn't believe what I had just walked into. I stepped away from the desk and moved towards Angela.

The typing abruptly stopped and he turned off his monitor. I turned to face him, between Angela and him. Shaw gave me another long cold look that felt like my skin was being flayed off. The buzz of the LED lights on the ceiling was the only noise filling the emptiness we had left it. I looked at Angela again, her eyes locked on her husband. Her tits were a soft pink now, but her eyes had taken on the red bloodshot hue. I only saw fear, that look told me I had made a grave mistake.

Shaw stood and calmly walked towards me. I turned away, but his hand on my shoulder caused me to turn back viciously, knocking the table to the side. He wasn't being forceful, his body felt calm in comparison to my spring loaded trap of a corpse. I turned with fierceness ready to strike. If he could do that to his wife, what could he do to me?

"I'm giving you what you want, exactly what you asked for," Shaw said with a reassured confidence. He rubbed my shoulder tightly but gently and all my fight turned into fawning. I knew I couldn't actually fight Shaw if I wanted to but I was willing to claw him apart to get away if I had to. Now that he had touched and imposed himself onto me though, I felt weak with the reminder of just how small I was in comparison.

"I haven't done anything to her that she wouldn't have wanted anyway. I got her audience and permission as requested. I want your clothes off now so I can enjoy the rest of what you have to offer. It's fairly simple even if this looks more complicated than you'd like it to be," Shaw looked proud of himself, a smile hidden within his graying beard.

I had hoped that a gotcha of some sort could end this "ordeal" for all of us. I thought silently for a moment as he continued to run his fingers down my back. His hand glided down my back slowly and I struggled to stay focused. Finally, it came to me.

"She didn't give me her permission, you did. This won't work for me, sorry Champ," I said triumphantly.

Shaw's hand slid up to my shoulder and held on tightly, his nail nearly digging in under my shirt, "No problem."

He strode over to his wife and took the duct tape from her mouth roughly. She gasped in pain and whimpered softly staring down at him. He pulled her by the back of her hair and forced her to look me in the eye.

"Go on and tell Janaé you want her to fuck me and make me cum. Tell her you're tired of watching me cum all over her face every week and you want me to feel real pleasure for once. Don't you want me to explore her?" Shaw whispered harshly. My heart was racing out of my chest but I felt like cement had been poured in my shoes.

Angela whimpered more before Shaw yanked her hair again and she winced. "Answer me, bitch," His coldness towards her was terrifying.

She lifted her face towards me showing a bright red mark across her lips from the tape and tearfully said, "Do it, Janaé. I want you to fuck my husband. I want him to feel real pleasure for once."

With that Shaw let go of her head and took the duct tape roll off the table. He replaced her tape mouth gag, she didn't squirm or fight. She sullenly accepted this from him.

He turned to me, happy to return to his show.

I snapped defiantly, this was genuinely all I had left, "Shaw, that's bullshit and you know it. Do you not remember your Sociology course on Social Change? How using illegal imprisonment to gain confessions is coercion? If you have to depend on external force to get what you want, it shows your true weakness rather than strength. I don't have to give you anything."

"It seems you do remember something else I've taught you besides sucking cock well. I won't force you to fuck me."

The snide sharpness of his words suggested he wasn't finished trying to out maneuver me.

"I'll just make sure that I report our affair to the ethics board. I am quite tired of keeping it a secret from my wife but I'd hate for our careers to be ruined because of me. Plus, it'll call into question the legitimacy of your degree and your job considering I helped you with all of it."

Shaw petted a crying Angela's hair softly while he talked. His voice revealed a soft sing song playfulness to it, "It would be a terrible shame, but one I'm willing to carry out. I've done all of this already, what's one step more?"

Fuck.

"You wouldn't!" I shouted.

Oh, he fucking would. He'd ruin my life and his over cunt. What a fucking asshole.

"I would, but you know that already. It's up to you what you do, but I know what my options are," Shaw grinned.

I stood across from him and contemplated my options only briefly. Fuck him or ruin my life. I've already been fucking him. Not with my pussy but with my mouth, but we've done it before. Why did he need to feel my pussy so bad?

"Poor little cuckcake can't uphold her end of the bargain when it's time to pay up, huh? I'm starting to think you never intended to fuck me sweetie," he said.

Shaw let go of Angela's head and got close to my face as if to kiss me. Instead he spoke softly.

"My wife has been watching me fuck your face for months from this window. Rubbing her sad cunt thinking about how good you make me feel and wishing she could be half of what you are right now, pure sex."

Angela had been watching this whole time? I felt horrified with this realization. She wasn't supposed to know, blowing Shaw was a side quest that ended up being more trouble than it was worth. Did I like knowing she had known the whole time? Deep down, absolutely. He made me feel incredibly feral just uttering the words. Angela had been watching, touching herself wishing she could be me. Angela was a victim in this, but she had known the entire time and I hadn't known. Let's just say I felt vindicated.

Shaw continued, "I'd like to give her the show she wants. She loves watching me tear into cute girls, especially the ones who've been sucking her husband dry mid week for months now."

He pulled my chin towards his mouth for a kiss. I flinched away, but he grabbed my face and kissed me anyway.

"I know you want her to see this, right baby?" he said tenderly. Shaw leaned in and kissed me again slower and gentler.

The grip on my face loosened as I leaned into the kiss. His hand slid down to my tit and he seized it through my shirt. Soon, we were having an old fashion makeout session.

I was trying so hard not to give in to Shaw's desires. It was not nearly as hard as earlier, the battle was much more internal. Whenever I opened my eyes I could get a glimpse of Angela watching us longingly from the corner. She looked less afraid now, much more intrigued. She didn't look bitter or angry, she looked lustful almost. She was really a sight to see with her tits out and her face covered in tears and mascara. Was I making up her horniness to make myself feel better about what I was going to do? I honestly didn't care at this point. I was getting horny just thinking about her being tied up over in the corner helpless to stop us. I wasn't putting on airs earlier, but the more I kissed Shaw and looked at Angela, the more I wasn't opposed to Shaw's request.

"Does it make your pussy feel good knowing she's watching us?" Shaw pulled away to ask. He was pressing me against the edge of the table holding my hips.

"More than anything. Just one tiny problem for me," I said. I could see the annoyance on his face.