Office Hours Ch. 03

His hand was going just along the very edge of my pussy now, as close as he could be without touching it. He moved it to just above it, letting his hand rest there.

"You want me to finger you, don't you?"

"So fucking much!" Was he trying to make me beg?

"I don't have to, you know. I could change my mind right now."

That was it-he had to want me to beg in response to something like that.

"Please, Professor Fitzgerald! Please finger me. I'll keep doing absolutely anything you want, I promise. I'll be so good for you. I need you to touch my pussy right now so fucking bad!"

He moved his hand down just the slightest bit, leaving it still again. My enjoyment of the anticipation was starting to reach its limit.

Then, finally, he inched his hand downward and began to rub. I moaned and rose off the desk a little. All that torturous waiting had been worth it-fuck!

"How does it feel to be touched just after having your mouth fucked?" he asked.

"So fucking good! I loved having you in my mouth so much and it made me so turned on and now you're turning me on even more!"

"You're very lucky that I'm being generous and touching you."

"I know I know I know! Thank you so much!"

I looked up at him, thinking that even when he was giving me pleasure he was still so clearly the one in charge. He looked so elevated above me, standing there while I just lay here, wet and open for him. Just seeing his large brown eyes framed by his thick black glasses and his detached expression made every stroke of his finger on my clit feel even better.

"This was just what you were waiting for all week, wasn't it? Having your wet pussy touched."

"God yes! This is exactly what I needed!"

I couldn't believe how good he was with his fingers. The boys I'd been with before had needed so much direction to know how to touch me, but he seemed to know exactly what to do without me saying a word. It was so sexy-it made me feel as if this had been destined to happen.

"Play with your tits for me," he ordered.

I immediately grabbed them and started to squeeze hard, remembering how rough he'd been when he'd fucked me the week before. It had felt so good to be in pain for him then, and, more importantly, I knew how much hurting me had pleased him.

For me, he'd said. That was exactly right-everything that was happening was for his pleasure, not mine. He wanted me to be in pain. He wanted to be touching my pussy. He wanted to see what a slut I was.

I started digging my nails into my tits then, crying out at the sharp pain.

"Hurts?" he asked.

"Yes!" I answered, doing it again as I spoke.

"Very good. Pain is just another way of showing your submission." Hearing him say that made the pain feel even better than it had.

After another minute, the pain, enjoyable as it was, was starting to get overwhelming, so I stopped.

"Did I give you permission to stop?" he asked sharply.

"No. I'm sorry," I said, returning my hands to my tits and squeezing roughly again. I hadn't realized I needed permission, but I supposed I should have learned by now that I couldn't do anything without his approval.

He was working three of those long fingers in and out of my opening now, and I began to buck my hips just a little. I was so wet it was spilling onto my legs.

Then, suddenly, he moved his hand away from my pussy and over to my thigh, gently and slowly stroking the length of it. I was so scared that he wasn't going to finger me anymore, but to my immense relief he started to rub again a moment later. Somehow the quick break had made it feel even better when he started again.

The pleasure was building and building, and I realized that very soon I would be ready to cum. I knew I would have to ask him for permission. But was he going to give it to me?

"Can I cum for you? Please?" I asked when I could tell I was just a moment away.

Rather than answering, he removed his hand completely and then held it up to my mouth. Knowing what he wanted, I opened my mouth and began to suck his fingers. I had never tasted myself before, but I couldn't think about that-my head was too full of how desperate I was to cum. My pussy was throbbing urgently even though he wasn't touching it anymore.

He removed his fingers from my mouth. I wanted to beg him to let me cum, but I was afraid of hearing him tell me he wasn't going to. Somehow not having him tell me one way or the other felt better than hearing a definite no, because this way I could hold on to the hope that there was at least a chance.

I looked up at him, wondering if he could see the desperation in my eyes even though I was silent. His expression gave no indication of what he was planning to do.

Then, suddenly, he smiled and returned his hand to my pussy. Thank god. I moaned loudly and squeezed my tits particularly hard.

I was so grateful that he was touching me again, but I still had no idea if he was planning to let me actually cum. The pleasure was even more intense now after hitting the edge, and I didn't even want to consider the possibility that he wouldn't. It was getting so hard to think straight, anyway. His fingers felt much too good on my clit.

After just another couple of minutes, I was right on the brink again. I'd given up on not begging. I was much too desperate. "Oh god Professor Fitzgerald please let me cum, I need it so bad, I-" And then his hand was gone again.

I felt as if I were about to cry. The week of no pleasure had been bad enough, but now, to be on his desk, feeling him touch me just after he'd fucked my mouth, well, this was nothing but agony.

I was trying hard to catch my breath. He was just staring silently at me again. What was he thinking? That I was a shameless whore? That at this moment he had complete power over me?

He put his hand back on my pussy but left it still. Exactly how much was he planning to torment me?

Finally he began to rub again. "You really want to cum, don't you?" he asked.

What the fuck kind of a question was that? Of course I wanted to cum! But I managed to fight down my urge to be sarcastic, knowing that would not only kill my chance but probably earn me another session with the ruler as well.

"So much!" I said instead. "This week has been so hard and you're making me feel so good right now and please!" Telling him how badly I wanted it was just making me want it more.

"Well, I suppose I'll let you, because you have been doing a good job since you were disobedient last week," he said. "Consider it a reminder of how important it is to be good for me."

A matter of moments later it was happening. Having him tell me I was being good for him, being given the approval I craved, was just what I needed to push me over the edge. I thrashed wildly on his desk, feeling as if every single nerve in my body was bursting. The room was spinning and my pussy was screaming and oh god, knowing it wasn't just an overpowering orgasm but was an orgasm from him, from this brilliant and gorgeous man!

When the explosion had subsided, he held his hand to my mouth again, and I slowly sucked the slickness off each finger.

"Thank you," I told him. I felt strangely calm considering how intense an experience I'd just had.

"Same time next week?" he asked. I nodded at him, smiling.