Seducing My Professor

Warning: Graphic descriptions of sex, physical roughness, verbal degradation, elements of BDSM

This is the first erotic story I have ever written, after reading many. Your comments and feedback would be much desired. This is a real fantasy that I have about a teacher of mine at University. Some of the events described transpired, and some did not. All characters are over 18 years old. Enjoy.

*****

"My name is Don, I'm a senior, I study plant science, and I like to suck dick."

These were the first words I spoke to my PLSC399 class on the first day of school. Because this was the 14th billion time I had to introduce myself to a class of my peers, I wanted an intro that stood out. And, being humiliated turns me on.

It was hard to say if there were more people taking the class "because they had to" or who rode horses— but either way I wasn't impressed.

After the words leave my mouth my eyes dart over to my professor across the room and a jolt of electricity goes down my spine when his eyebrows do the quickest twitch. A tall sturdy chemist with thick white hair and fashion sense men in their 20s don't have, Dr. Hawthorne was a fox, and I wanted him.

It was quiet in the room, and the yarn ball moved cautiously along the remaining row of students.

...

There are very few things that get me going like talking openly about sex and seeing how men react. A man that can talk confidently about sex can get it.

It also amazes me what you can get people to tell you. Every taxi ride I take, I make a point to learn some obscene fact about my driver. When you are outward and speak frankly, people will tell you some personal shit. In fact, yesterday I was heading back from Baltimore and showed the driver some fresh welts on my upper thigh I had received from an older guy who lived on the harbor.

He told me about his experience with golden showers and grabbed my ass on my way out.

Also sitting in the class. A puppy dog boy with big glasses and pretty brown hair who created a 4 foot canvas painting of my face last semester and tried to give it to me. The root of this tribute remains ambiguous but either way, after class he tells me he still has the painting in his room. I make a quick escape and decide I definitely should have not fucked him.

After class, I head to the gym and see a guy from my freshman year chemistry class. Seeing him without a lab-coat is a whole new experience. He is tall well built red-head with a smile to kill. The variety of the irresistible redheads who look like they model foreign underwear.

"Hey, what's good?" He asks me with that fucking smile."

I think about how easily he could bounce me around on top of his dick with those perfectly shaped shoulders.

"Would you mind taking a video of my deadlift?"

I grab his phone like a depraved cinematographer and after some professional quality camera work I type my number in before giving it back. He winks at me and I melt. There's nothing quite like sweat on a hot guy to make you want to want to swap saliva.

...

My profs office hours were 10 to to 11 am the next day and there was 0% chance I wasn't going to show up. The line between skirts and short skirts is a blurry one, and I intended to take advantage of this blur. Since we're in the academic world, it would just have to be a red pleated and plaid one. I smack on some red lipstick on and knock on his office door. Dressing like fruit turns men on.

"Come in."

I step in, already liking following orders from him. When I slip inside his office I set a cup of coffee on his desk and ask about his research as I sip on my own cup. I am most interested in the size of his member and what it's shaped like but I am a strong proponent of intense eye contact.

"I'm really excited for this class Dr. Hawthorne, I want to do really well in my classes this semester, I'll do anything to get it. I'm very dedicated."

"Yeah, Don, it will be a good semester, I have a lot of interesting stuff planned for the class, a tour through the downtown botanical gardens, a fermentation lab, an orchard tour..."

I thought about him grabbing me in between my legs shoving his fingers into me, holding me down with the other hand. His desk is gorgeous, a beautiful sturdy desk, made of dark grained ebony. I was dreaming about him tossing me onto his desk, his peer review files flying everywhere and fucking me until I cried.

I sometimes get very confused when I talk to people because I get distracted thinking about what it would be like to have sex with them.

"Don— ...Don? I have a meeting, in 5 minutes."

I snap out of it.

Walking out, swinging my ass in front of him, I munch onto an apple and think— although he didn't know it, we had our first date.

...

Pigtails with red ribbons usually garner 2 reactions. Because you look like fruit, one is fascination. One is disdain.

Nevertheless, our prof walks in with dark blue slacks. God, his clothes fit so well. His shoulders fill his shirts out so nicely. I just wish they were unbuttoned. He sees me, over his glasses, in the front center seat.

A front row seat to the show. My eyes move from his mouth to the chalkboard to his eyes. His grays are slate gray, magnified by the glasses slightly, and casting a gaze that's icy and almost too cool. I have found it is nicer to rest your eyes on a nice sight. As if plants aren't sexy enough, I get to learn from this hunk.

He's got to know I'm batting my eyelashes at him for 90 minutes straight.

I always take my time leaving, wanting to say goodbye last. His first and last memory of every period for the semester will be me.

I'm working my way into this man's brain as if I already have him. But there's no way to help it.

...

Obviously, the next week's office hours were for alone time with my Postdoctoral sex pistol chemist.

"I was wondering...when is the next time plant micro-bio will be offered?" I bat my eyes at him.

He swivels around in his chair and types onto his keyboard, scanning the course schedule. He looks hot as fuck with those glasses. If it weren't for him I wouldn't believe come-to-bed eyes were a real phenomenon. While he's typing, I slip a thong into the pocket of his briefcase on the floor near me.

"Looks like it's in the spring, usually a Tuesday-Thursday class taught by Anders."

"Perfect, I'll add it."

He swivels back around, "Don, I need to have a serious discussion with you. It was extremely inappropriate and uncalled for...what you said on Monday. You know that's out of line and that kind of language will not be tolerated."

My heart begins to pound against my chest with a powerful thud. Play it cool, it's the only option. Maintain composure, and make it happen.

"Oh," I say, "well,

you asked us to say something we like to do while we're not studying. I didn't know I had to censor myself."

We sit for a second and I wonder if I'm about to get expelled from University and have to work as a telemarketer.

He looks so fucking hot in his suit jacket. I wanna wear it naked.

"You want people to know you're a whore?" He says.

Even I am not prepared for this and my vision blurs for a second. He knows. I want him.

"That's right." I say softly.

"You're completely out of line, and this has to stop." He says.

"Oh. Uhh...I didn't mean for any of that Sir, uhhhh, uh I mean Dr. Hawthorne."

"Sir? Oh, you think you're MY fucking slut? Unbelievable. Get the fuck over here."

Again, I am not ready for this. I stand up from my seat in the corner and, eyes on the floor the whole time, walk across his small office.

He's leaning against his desk, arms crossed. Taking orders from this man is my wettest dream, and here he is commanding me to approach him. I stand in front of him, subserviently.

"Turn around."

Without hesitating, I swivel around on my heels. He grabs both my hands with one of his and uses the other on my lower back to push me down firmly against his desk.

"You're not going to make a mockery of being a disgusting depraved slut in front of your peers paying thousands in tuition to learn. You need to learn your lesson about flirting with your superiors."

I don't know exactly how to respond. But it turns out I don't have time to conjure a coherent response before he lifts my skirt up and cups my asscheeks in his hands. I feel a quick firm swat on my ass. I stifle a yelp out of surprise and he yanks my hands up, pulling me out of my bent over position.

He holds me in front of him, my arms pinned.

"Don't you dare, make a single noise." He says cooly. "It's not in your best interest, doll."

He reaches around me and unzips my skirt. It falls with a light thud onto the floor. My professor is undressing me and I'm embarrassed about how good it feels. He hooks his fingers around my underwear and pushes them down. At this point, I'm bottomless and I'm aching to be touched. I feel like a dirty desperate whore, letting him handle me like this.

Instead of touching me where I need it, he pushes his hand under my shirt and pinches my right nipple hard.

Despite myself, I start to whimper faintly. I'm on fire. I've been aching for this.

He sighs. "Okay, well, doll. You've left me no other choice but to stuff my cock down your throat. Isn't that right?"

"Yes." I whisper.

"Get on your knees."

I'm thankful for this command because my knees are weak anyway. Having this man violate me in his office and taking orders from him, I'm trying hard to think straight.

"Look at me while you tell me what a desperate fuckdoll you are."

I look away. I purr. Then, I tell him what I've been thinking about nonstop. "I want to feel your cock in my throat. I want to choke on it."

He walks away from me with a cool saunter— he looks so casual, as if this was a normal activity for office hours and I wasn't sitting there panting on the floor and getting wetter by the second.

Strolling away from me, his back facing me, he starts to undo his belt. Seeing his strong hands moving so confidently, I want them inside of me.

"Crawl to me."

I drop from my knees onto my hands and start to crawl towards him. Being on the ground in front of this tall handsome man, all I want to do is serve him.

He pushes his pants down and I take his cock out of his boxer briefs and hold it with both of my hands in front of my mouth. It's rock solid and I want it buried inside me. He gathers up my hair in his fist and I lean in, starting by putting my mouth at the base of his cock. I lick and suck my way up it. I'm purring. When I get to the top, I stretch my mouth over it and taste the tip. It tastes like it was made for me. I take him in my throat deeper, wanting to swallow every last inch of his member. I get lost in sucking his dick, daydreaming about swallowing his cum while he spits on my face. I feel high.

"That's a perfect little fuckhole of a mouth sweetie. Stand up and turn around."

I get onto my feet and shiver. I feel his belt against my neck and realize I'm being collared. He tightens it against my neck and fastens it. I'm placed on top of his desk, my splayed legs facing him. He takes his cock in his hand and positions it at my entrance.

"You have the audacity to act like a little fucking tramp and come in here with your ass hanging out of your skirt? Fuck no, you're not the one in charge here. You want to get fucked by your professor? Is that your cute little wet dream? Well, you're gonna get fucked, but I call the shots. I make the rules."

He brushes his cock against me up and down before pushing inside me. I gasp and stretch around him, feeling dazed and horny.

"Be brave sweetie."

I am brave. So I lay there like a doll while my professor uses me as cum dumpster. He fucks me with finesse that men in their 20s lack.

I grip the edges of his desk, bracing myself for each time he crashes his pelvis against me. There is no time to recover or collect myself. This is not a gentle fuck, and this is not about me. This is about him. I am merely a means to an end. He puts one hand on my neck and the other on my back. I can tell he's getting close because he holds his breath. I didn't think it was possible, but the pounding intensifies and I can feel him pumping cum inside me.

"Fuck" he says, pulling out.

I giggle, and watch the cum dribble out of me. I get dressed and wonder how a man an be so stoic and so sexy.

"You're my pet."

"Yes Sir."

"You will come to my office whenever I require it."

"Yes Sir."

"Very good."

I get dressed, swing my backpack over my shoulder and adjust my skirt on the way out.

"Hey, don't forget about the nutrients quiz on Thursday."

"You got it prof."

THE END