My Dreamy History Professor

Im a total newbie at this, but any comments or feedback is very appreciated! I'll write chapter two if anyone ends up liking the first chapter!

I had just attended the last lecture of the week. I stepped out the classroom with my heavy backpack slung over one shoulder. I was wearing one of my favorite outfits that day: a short black dress printed with little red flowers, an oversized cardigan, and my black Converse.

When I entered my university library, I returned my books and set off towards the romance section, determined to find the perfect book to read over the weekend. "Ah, that one looks interesting", I thought as I extended my arm, my fingertips barely grazing the gilded spine of the book, I stood on my tiptoes and stretched upward. My eyes widened as I caught a glimpse of the intricate details that adorned it. The book seemed to glow on the top shelf, calling out to be read, but it was just out of reach.

A frustrated sigh escaped my lips. Suddenly, I sensed someone behind me. I turned around and my gaze was met by my history professor. He seemed happy to see me as we greeted each other, and then he asked if I needed help reaching the book, "is it this one?" he asked with a charming smile as he pointed to the beautiful old novel, "yes sir" I answered respectfully. He reached up effortlessly to retrieve it. Our eyes met and he complimented my dress before handing it to me. Heat rushed to my cheeks as he told me he'd see me around, and left, leaving my heart racing.

I kept looking around the library, looking for a few more books to borrow, but I couldn't stop thinking about him. He was so handsome, about a head taller than me, and probably less than 10 years younger than my parents. I constantly internally scolded myself for finding him so goddamn attractive when he's so much older than me, and MY TEACHER for goodness sake, why am I such a pervert?

Eventually, I made it to the back of the library. As I stood staring at the endless titles, I noticed him again. He was standing in the adjacent section, reading the back of a big history book. His muscular arms caught my eye and I found myself staring at him for way too long.

A feeling of warmth spread through my body and as my gaze lingered on him. I found myself wishing he would talk to me again and I imagined his strong hands running up and down my body. Suddenly, I snapped out of it, shaking my head and trying to refocus. Embarrassed by my ridiculous daydreaming, I wondered if I was ovulating or something, or if I was just depraved in general because I was far too aroused just from thinking about him.

Suddenly, a deep and familiar voice shattered my focus, and I turned to see him standing surprisingly close to me. My pale face flushed red as he confidently remarked that he saw me "checking him out." Mortified and embarrassed, and too stunned to speak, I quickly grabbed a random book and backed away a bit, still trying to keep things casual. After all, I was checking him out... and I constantly fantasized about him, but that's as far as I imagined it would really go.

"what?" I asked with a nervous chuckle.

"You heard me," he said, his tone patronizing, "you're always watching me, and I can see it in your eyes that you want me. Don't deny it." his eyes were all over me, and he looked almost hungry for me. I'd never seen him act like this, other than in my fantasies. He was very professional in class, very smart and respectful, without even an ounce of weirdness, nothing about him ever lead me to believe that he would EVER have feeling toward one of his students, especially me. I was shy, and kept to myself a lot.

I was so reluctant to admit it, and even a little afraid, "I don't know what you mean..." I lied, backing up even further but to no avail, he was stepping toward me, and practically cornering me at the back of the library.

"Oh, I think you do" he said, pushing me against the shelf and effortlessly pinning my arms above my head, "it's so obvious that you're infatuated by me. It's really sick, Sophia, I'm your professor. You're such a dirty little slut, just admit it" he commanded with a devilish smirk.

I stared into eyes sheepishly, unable to believe that this was really happening. I felt trapped, suffocated by the closeness of his body. He was towering over me, his uninvited hand creeping up my dress. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was too strong.

"I-I'm not a slut," I argued. He chuckled and made a comment about how I'm "always silently begging for male attention" despite my shyness. Deep down, I knew it was true. I wore short little dresses and tight pants because it made me feel good when guys would stare. But like a quiet little mouse, I'd scamper away if they showed any serious interest. I think that's why my biggest fantasies involved being forced, because I could finally get what I wanted without having the choice to run away from it.

His strong hand slid down between my legs, making me squirm, "don't fight me," he commanded. I couldn't deny how turned on I was getting with his fingers rubbing me over my lacy panties. My pleasure was obvious, but I couldnt let myself give into it, despite how much I desperately wanted to, I still had some fight in me, "I'm a virgin, p-please don't hurt me, just stop and I won't tell anyone," I pleaded quietly, all while secretly hoping he'd keep going.

"ohh, is that what is it, hm?" he asked with a grin while finally slipping his hand inside my panties, sliding his intrusive fingers inside me, "is that why you're so goddamn desperate for my attention?" he moaned a little then laughed, "Mmm, is that why you're so wet right now? I can't believe you're getting so turned on by this, Soph. Jeez. For a virgin, you're really fucking depraved, getting turned on by the man who's about to rape you."

His words echoed through my mind, I tried to hold my moans back, but I couldn't. My face was red, my breathing heavy. His fingers felt so amazing. Id never felt the touch of a man, and it was better than I couldve imagined. I was lost in the pleasure he gave me, drowning in it. I never wanted it to end.

Suddenly, he slipped his fingers out of me and forced them inside my mouth, causing me to whimper in embarrassment, "good girl" he cooed slyly as he forced me to taste myself, "how about we continue this somewhere a little more...private?"

I was in such a daze, I totally let go of any feelings of resistance or shame that I had. His strong hands all over my body practically made me forget my own name. I wanted more. I wanted him to take me. I nodded shyly and followed him to his car, my clothes disheveled and my hair messy.

The car ride was long, and I spent the majority of it looking at him whenever I thought he wouldnt notice. I'd been smitten by him ever since I started his class 2 months ago. Though I'd never admit it to anyone. My best friend, Jenna, believes that I'm head over heels for her French 101 partner, she even set us up on a double date, but I never found myself attracted to guys my own age. Maybe it was my raging daddy issues, or maybe I was just screwed up in the head. Whatever it was, I was helpless against it.

Seeing my professor driving the car was a sight to behold. His chiseled, angular features, his perfect, slightly messy salt and pepper hair, and his striking blue eyes were the stuff of my fantasies. I couldn't help but admire every move he made. As he deftly maneuvered the vehicle through the winding roads, his hands on the wheel looked like sculpture. His suit was expertly tailored, and he exuded an air of intelligence and confidence that was irresistible. With every passing moment, I became more smitten by him. He seemed so calm and collected in the car as he made small talk with me, asking me about my homework and if I had plans for the weekend, all with his strong hand on my thigh.

As we entered his home, I was struck by the dark intellectual aesthetic of it- books lined the walls, antique artifacts adorned the shelves, and the room was dimly lit by candlelight. I couldn't help but find myself even more drawn to him in this mysterious and alluring atmosphere. With a swift movement, he locked the door behind us. Suddenly, the seriousness of the situation hit me and I felt very intimidated by him. I must've looked like a deer in the headlights, "where were we?" he mused as he stepped toward me and tried to kiss me. Instinctively, I pulled back.

"I'm sorry... I can't do this, I want to but i can't......I'm sorry..." I confessed as I slipped past him and headed for the door.

Just as quickly as I reached for the handle, his hand met mine and pulled it away, "not so fast. I know what you want, Soph, and I intend to give it to you," he told me. I shook my head and tried to pull my hand away but his grip was unrelenting. I melted into his eyes in that moment, perfectly content to let him take what he wanted from me, because I was too shy to give it to him myself.

To be continued...