London Buses Pt. 02

As Amy deep throated the professor he slammed his palm on the hard wooden desk above her head. Thankfully, to the students watching it simply looked like another of his eccentric lectures.

"More!" shouted the professor.

"It's the flamenco!" a student cried out and prompting laughs from the crowd, "the stamp of the heel and the swoosh of a skirt!"

"Yes, David, yes! Who else?"

The professor had worked the students into a bustling activity that masked the gagging sounds coming from below his desk. Amy bobbed up and down on the professor's cock, moaning and humming around his shaft as she felt it swelling. Amy knew he must be close. The professor's cock stretched her aching mouth more than she thought possible but Amy sucked on it with renewed vigor, desperate to taste his hot semen running down her throat.

"It's a blackness, sir," a voice called out confidently, "the dark side of love, the grief of a broken heart!"

"Yes!" the professor roared as he lunged forward on his desk, thrusting his penis deeper down Amy's throat than she throat possible and shooting stream after stream of hot cum inside her.

Amy couldn't swallow fast enough and cum filled her mouth. It coated her tongue and forced its way between her lips and the professor's pulsing cock. Spit and cum ran freely down her chin and pooled in her shining cleavage.

The professor slumped back in his chair and withdrew his penis from Amy's throat. Amy heaved a gasping breath. Tears ran down her cheeks and her jaw ached from the rough stretching it had sustained. But Amy's mind was occupied with the lingering taste of cum on her lips and the sticky streaks on her tongue.

Amy leant forward and took the professor's still hard cock back in her mouth. She gently cleaned it of cum with prolonged licks.

"Phew," the professor exhaled, "that's enough fun for today, I think. Let's rewind a little, who can tell me the about the surrealist manifesto and how this impacted on Lorca's work?"

A collective groan rose from the students. Amy continued to lovingly kiss the professor's penis under the desk. But the magnitude of her actions began to sink in. What had she been thinking? This could mean the end of her scholarship, the end of her education.

As these thoughts flashed through Amy's mind she felt a gentle touch on her head. With the professor's cock pressed to her lips she looked up. Dr. Mitchell was looking out at the crowd, his face slightly flushed and, Amy thought, the hint of a smile on his face. His hand reached under the desk and softly stroked her hair.

With that small action the fears disappeared from Amy's mind and she opened her lips to slowly take him back in her mouth. Amy felt he professor's hand softly trace a path to the back of her head, then tenderly pull Amy forward and deeper onto his shaft.