Office Hours Ch. 03

The next four days did not get even a little bit easier. In fact, the closer it came to Tuesday and the prospect of seeing Professor Fitzgerald again, the more desperate I got.

The weekend was brutal. I'd gotten caught up on all my work by Saturday afternoon. I was trying to stay busy to distract myself, but I couldn't seem to find anything that would take my mind off the ache inside me.

I was getting increasingly tempted to go to a party and find some random boy to fuck. I considered the idea of telling Professor Fitzgerald that I had misunderstood his instructions, that I'd thought I was only forbidden to touch my pussy myself, not to have anyone else touch it. But I knew he wouldn't buy that as an excuse, and it felt terribly important to be obedient for him.

Why was it so important to be obedient for him, anyway? I considered this question on Saturday night as I watched a stupid movie I couldn't really pay attention to.

Part of it was surely that being fucked good and hard on his desk was by far the best sex I'd ever had and I wanted a chance to repeat it. I know that however good it might feel to touch my pussy today, it would surely be nothing compared to being taken by him again on Tuesday.

Then there was just the fact that this was an incredibly difficult challenge, and I wanted to prove I could complete it successfully, both to him and to myself. I couldn't deny that I could be a stubborn person, and I would take satisfaction in knowing I'd been strong enough to refrain from pleasure for an entire week.

But most of all, I wanted to do this for the simple reason that it was what Professor Fitzgerald wanted. I'd wanted him for as long as I'd been in his class, but being fucked by him had somehow made me feel as if I belonged to him. Ever since it had happened, pleasing him felt like the most important thing I could possibly do. And if I had to lose my mind with frustration to please him, then so be it.

On Monday night, I didn't even try to keep my mind off seeing him the next day, knowing it was an entirely futile endeavor. After I'd done my work, I spent the rest of the night scribbling furiously away in the composition book I used as a journal, detailing the thoughts I'd been having over the previous week and exactly what I hoped was going to happen when I visited his office the following day.

I knew that what we were going to do would be entirely his decision-if he'd made one thing clear the week before, it was that he was going to be completely in control of everything that happened between us. But what I really, really hoped was going to happen was that he'd want me to give him a blowjob. I couldn't stop thinking about when he'd held his cock so close to my face right before he came and how easy it would've been for him to put it in my mouth then. The more I thought about it the more I wanted it.

I felt so fucking close to disobeying him that night, closer than I had any other night since he'd given me the assignment. The only thing making me keep behaving for him was how badly I wanted to please him. I thought of how proud of me he would surely be if he knew how good I'd been for him. Maybe it would make up for getting in trouble a week ago.

It was just so fucking hard. But maybe he would be pleased even by that. After all, if it hadn't been a struggle for me, if I hadn't really had to work hard to do it, wouldn't that make the fact that I'd been successful more meaningful? What would I really have accomplished if I'd been able to do it with no trouble at all?

I finally fell asleep, but when I woke up I discovered that the ache in my pussy was just as bad as it had been the night before. I tried to tell myself that at least I would be distracted by my morning classes, but I still had to survive 1-3 with Professor Fitzgerald, and that sounded impossible. It had been bad enough the last time we'd met, and I hadn't even had the prospect of going to his office just a few hours later to deal with then.

I was the first one to arrive in his classroom that day. He was sitting at his desk going through some papers again. I couldn't even bring myself to approach him to say anything, feeling as if I would explode if I got any attention from him before we met in private.

I wasn't expecting him to pay attention to me on his own since he hadn't last time, so I was very surprised when he looked up from his papers and gave me just the hint of a smile. My pussy throbbed and I had to tell myself over and over that I couldn't run into the bathroom to give it the attention it so badly needed. I'd come this far already-I couldn't just ruin it at the last minute. But fuck did it turn me on, to think about him thinking about me and whatever he had planned for later.

Normally I raised my hand to say a lot in his class, but today I couldn't bring myself to, sure I would get overwhelmingly turned on again by having him pay attention to me, even if it were only to respond to what I had to say about The Sun Also Rises. So I just sat there silently, trying to pay attention but being only moderately successful.

Finally class was over. His office hours weren't for another hour. I didn't trust myself to go back to my room, afraid I would finally give in to the temptation if I did. Instead I went to the Student Center and had a coffee, which didn't do much to help with my increasing jitteriness.

I checked my watch. Five minutes to four. I started to walk very quickly to his office. I didn't want to keep him waiting, though I somehow had the feeling that he wasn't nearly as eager as I was.

I reached his office and stepped inside, already breathing hard.

"Shut the door."

I did, and then just stood there awaiting further instructions from him, knowing that it wouldn't be right to do anything at all unless he explicitly told me to. He hadn't told me to sit down but I was feeling a little dizzy, so I leaned against the door to steady myself.

"Have a seat." I did, and he gave me that same small smile he had in class. "Well. How was your punishment?"

"It was so fucking hard!"

"And why is that?"

I was thrown off guard by the unexpected question and didn't answer.

"I asked you a question. Why was it hard for you to keep your hand off your pussy for a week?" he repeated.

"I...I guess it's because I'm such a slut that I want to be cumming all the time. I haven't been able to stop thinking about when you fucked me, and it's just been making me so horny, and..." I trailed off, embarrassed. It had felt so good when he'd told me what a slut I was when he was fucking me, but sitting here admitting it to him, it suddenly felt like something I should be ashamed of.

"Just as I expected," he said. "You made it so obvious last time what a slut you are, so it's not at all surprising that you would have a difficult time not constantly fingering your filthy pussy."

"Yes, Professor Fitzgerald, I guess that's true," I agreed. I was at least relieved that my punishment was over and I'd be back to being allowed to do it as much as I wanted to.

"Do you know what I think?" he asked.

"What?"

"I think you're such a slut that you need to be kept under strict control at all times."

"What do you mean?" I knew what it sounded like he meant, but I couldn't believe it could possibly be true. It was too terrible to contemplate.

"I think that from now on you should only finger your pussy with my explicit permission. It really doesn't seem like you are capable of controlling yourself on your own."

"But Professor Fitzgerald, that isn't fair! You said it was just a punishment!"

"It was a punishment, yes, but it was also a test. Believe me, this is for your own good."

I leaned back in my chair, heart sinking, knowing I had no hope of swaying him. "All right," I said quietly.

"Very good," he said. "Don't worry, if you are well-behaved you will be getting permission." I was relieved to at least hear that, but I somehow had the feeling that however much he was planning to give me permission would surely not be enough.

"Now. I think we have some other matters to attend to today," he said. "What have you been thinking about all that time you've been struggling not to touch yourself?"

"You fucking me, of course." He gave me an approving nod, and I continued. "But not just fucking me. Using me. I just keep thinking about everything you said last week about how your pleasure is all that matters. I'd never had a man tell me anything like that before, and it's so fucking hot! That's all I want right now-for you to use me, for you to let me give you pleasure."

"It's good that you understand what you're made for," he said, and I was overcome with happiness at hearing him praise me.

"I've been trying to decide how it would most please me to use you today, and I've come to the conclusion that it would feel very good to fuck your slutty little mouth. How would you like that?"

"Oh god, I was hoping so much that would be what you wanted! It's all I've been thinking about too!"

"Very good."

He stood and unzipped his pants, dropping them and his underwear to the floor. My heart was pounding at the sight of his beautiful cock again. When he began to stroke it to make himself hard, it was all I could do to not reach my hand into my panties and do the same.

He was hard now, but he was still stroking himself rather than ordering me to approach him. I forced myself, with difficulty, to refrain from dropping to my knees at his feet without permission, remembering how important it was for every single thing that happened to be entirely his decision.

"Do you remember what I told you last time just before I fucked you?" he asked.

I was having a hard time thinking straight from the combination of the anticipation of what was about to happen and how sexy those long fingers looked wrapped around that long cock, but I did indeed remember.

"You told me that you wanted to wait before you took me to remind me that you are my superior in intellect and authority."

"That's right. I just wanted to take a moment to remind you again, because it is important that you remember that every single time I fuck you. Now. On your knees."

I immediately dropped to them and looked up at him, eyes wide and breath ragged. He rubbed his cock against my face and I let out an involuntary whimper.

"I think you know what to do, slut."

I took him in my mouth, taking him as deeply as I could. God it felt good being full of him this way. I'd never sucked someone so big before and I could tell already that this was going to be the best blowjob I had ever given.

I'd been planning to start slowly, gradually increasing my pace as I went along, but I found myself much too excited and instead just worked him in and out of me as quickly as I could. After a few minutes of that, I started alternating with licking down the entire length of him, swirling my tongue around his balls for a few moments, and then licking back to the head to take him in my mouth again.

As I was taking a moment to breathe, he spoke. "You're good at this."

"Thank you!" God, every time he praised me my heart soared. Knowing I was pleasing him felt so fucking good.

"How do you like it?"

"Oh god, I love it so much! It's never felt this good sucking a cock before. I think it actually feels even better than when you took my pussy."

"Excellent. Now, how would it make you feel if I took control? I think that would only be proper, being as how I am your superior."

"I would love that so much! I want you to be in charge of everything."

A second later his hands were tightly gripping my head, shoving me down on him hard, forcing me deeper than I'd managed to take him on my own. My pussy pulsed. Having him fuck my mouth like this made me feel so submissive, so used.

"Such a dirty little whore," he said, shoving my head down just a bit faster now. "I know how badly you've been wanting this all week. That's why you had such a hard time keeping your hand off your filthy pussy. Because you were absolutely desperate to be full of my cock again. Isn't that right?" He freed my head.

"Yes, Professor Fitzgerald! You're exactly right! I haven't been able to think about anything else all week."

"I'm surprised a slut like you can even manage to get any work done."

"Me too," I agreed.

He took firm hold of my head again, fucking my mouth quite fast now. I felt blissful in a way I couldn't recall ever feeling before, on my knees at the feet of this brilliant older man, giving him pleasure. In this moment nothing else mattered. There was nowhere I would rather be.

He was only taking his cock out of my mouth long enough for me to catch my breath, not long enough to speak, before shoving it in again. I loved the way he was taking even that ability away from me. It made me feel even more submissive to be losing something so basic. What did I have to say that was important, anyway? I wasn't made for talking. I was just made to be used. I felt like nothing but holes, an object for his gratification and nothing more, and I absolutely loved it. How had I gone my whole life without realizing that this was what I was made for?

His hands felt so strong on my head. I loved the way he had taken full control. It was exactly right for the superior one to be the one who decided what happened, wasn't it? It felt so much better this way-being taken by someone older, someone intellectual, someone with power and authority over me. I could really, fully submit to someone like that. I never wanted to waste time fucking stupid boys my own age again. I knew they'd never really be able to satisfy me now that I'd been taken by a man.

He was going deeper and deeper, but my stupid gag reflex was interfering. He gave me another moment to breathe.

"I'm not able to get as deeply into your throat as I'd like," he said disapprovingly.

I immediately felt guilty for displeasing him and rushed to apologize. "I'm sorry, Professor Fitzgerald! I've just never been with someone so big before, so I haven't had any practice!"

"Well, I can think of an easy way to solve that problem," he said, before taking firm hold of my head again.

Everything was getting hazy. The rest of the world was quickly receding, leaving nothing but the feeling of his cock slamming hard and fast into my mouth. I felt as if I were dissolving, a feeling which I'd never experienced before and was realizing I completely loved. I didn't want anything else to exist. I wanted to merely kneel here at Professor Fitzgerald's feet, submitting to him as fully as I possibly could.

"Look at you," he said. "I know everyone thinks you're so smart, I know you do your best to convince them, but now I can see you in your real state-nothing but a stupid little whore, spending all her time waiting for a man to take her."

A week ago I would have argued with this, would have vehemently insisted that I was smart and the last thing I was was a whore. But when he'd taken me the first time everything had changed. Suddenly it seemed as if he were exactly right, that this was my sole purpose in life. After all, hadn't I spent the entire past week struggling to keep my hand off my pussy? Hadn't I been so overcome with horniness that I'd had a hard time thinking straight? If that didn't sound like a whore, I didn't know what did.

The most surprising part wasn't that I agreed with him that I was a whore. It was that I welcomed the idea. It felt good being a whore, a whore for him. Kneeling here at his feet being used by him felt better than anything else I could be doing right now possibly could. I was so grateful to him for awakening this part of myself, for showing me how I was meant to be.

He gave me another moment to breathe, which I badly needed by now.

"How do you feel now?" he asked.

"Oh god, so fucking good! You're exactly right about me being nothing but a whore. I love having you treat me like one! Thank you so much!"

"You are quite welcome," he said, gripping my head again and shoving his cock back into my mouth a moment later.

I wished I could take him down my throat like he'd said he wanted me to. The idea of having his cock fill me completely was incredibly exciting. "An easy way to fix that problem," he'd said-he must mean he was going to let me have plenty of practice. Well, much as I wanted to please him as fully as possible now, having an excuse to spend plenty of time sucking his cock certainly sounded like a decent way to pass the time.

I couldn't wait to taste his cum. Thinking of it made my pussy throb, and it took a considerable effort to not reach my hand between my legs. It felt so good to be giving him pleasure, but the longer he fucked my mouth the more desperate I got to feel pleasure myself too. Would he let me have any when he was done? I had no idea, but I sure as hell hoped so.

Then, without warning, I got what I was aching for. He held my head still and filled my mouth with his cum. An intense shudder passed over my entire body. I loved the taste of it, I loved the feeling of it filling my mouth, and, most of all, I loved knowing that I'd given him so much pleasure. After all, what else was a whore made for? Making men cum was my purpose, I could see that now, and that applied to men who were superior to me most of all.

He pulled out of me and released my head. Both of us were breathing hard and neither of us spoke for a moment.

"Your mouth is reasonably good to fuck now, but you definitely have room for improvement," he said. "As I told you, you won't be able to fully satisfy me until I can get into your throat. So I think plenty of practice is in order."

"I want to please you as much as I can!" I exclaimed. "But...but it was still good even this time? I still made you feel good?" I asked, concerned. He had said "reasonably good," but I wanted to be very good for him.

"Yes, it was all right for a first-time effort," he said. "But I'm sure you'll be outstanding before too long."

"I hope so! So much!"

"Good. Desire to improve is the first step to improvement." He paused. "Now. Since you did your best, and since you did successfully refrain from touching your pussy for the entire week, I think a reward is in order. Stand up." I did.

He put his right hand under my skirt and rubbed my pussy through my panties for just a moment before letting his hand rest there. I closed my eyes the second he touched me, too overwhelmed by the sudden stimulation to look at him.

"You're very wet for me," he said approvingly. "That's very good. It means you enjoyed having your mouth fucked very much. Isn't that right?"

"Oh god yes," I replied, still unable to open my eyes. I needed so badly for him to rub me again, but I was afraid to ask, thinking it might upset him if I acted like I thought anything that happened was up to me.

He moved his hand up to my hip and put his other hand on my other one, stroking them slowly. God, why did he have to be doing everything so slowly? I needed my pussy touched again now. But at the same time there was something wonderful in the anticipation, agonizing as it was.

He pulled my panties down. "Lie down on my desk," he ordered.

I opened my eyes again and did as instructed. It was getting harder and harder to not beg him to touch me, but I had the feeling that if I did it would guarantee that he wouldn't.

He took his right hand and stroked up the inside of my right thigh. I whimpered. Every single touch, every single moment that passed, just made me more and more desperate to have him finger me. But at the same time I was enjoying the anticipation more and more. There was somehow something wonderful about waiting, about having time to get more and more worked up. It would make it even better when the moment finally arrived.