Wild College Nights Ch. 02byLionheart72©
"Good of you to join us, Ms. Edmunds," Professor Ashton leered as Liz sashayed into Art class several minutes late.
The other students turned to glance at the tardy coed as she swayed toward her usual workbench. The women rolled their eyes, but most of the male students joined their professor, whose gaze devoured the sight of the curvy coed. Liz's dark brown curls were pulled back from her pretty, aristocratic face and fell in waves past the thin shoulder straps of her halter top. Her full, round breasts strained against the thin white fabric. As Liz strutted past the other students to her seat, she knew her audience was getting a good view.
"I'm sorry I'm late professor. I was unavoidably detained," Liz smiled, perching on the stool in front of her worktable.
As Liz settled into her seat, she opened her legs slightly. It was a part of a ritual Liz had set up early in the semester, flirtatiously showing off her panties. So, even as Professor Ashton drew breath for a firm rebuke, his eyes fell toward Liz's thighs. Whatever he planned to say was lost in a small smile as he stared down at Liz's naked, shaven and slightly swollen pussy. Catching himself, the art instructor turned to the rest of the class and continued outlining the new assignment.
Still smiling, Liz set herself to work, silently enjoying the surreptitious glances being made by multiple sets of eyes toward her partly exposed body. Liz loved it. She enjoyed the sense of power she got when she blatantly flaunted her sexuality. Some people, including one person she loved completely, called her a slut, but Liz refused to see that as a bad thing. She reveled in being openly, brazenly sexy. The thought of so many eyes on her thrilled her, and Liz felt herself getting horny just imagining what the boys must be thinking. It was a game that ended all too soon.
As the students filed out of class, one in particular caught her eye. Derrick was a lean, dark man: dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes, but somehow without any of the goth pretentiousness that one might expect. Derrick was a mystery. Liz knew he was attracted to her, but he was always so contained, as if everything, even his own lust, fueled his self-control. Looking at Derrick, Liz felt a dark chill, almost fear. She started to follow him toward the door.
"Ms. Edmunds," Professor Ashton's voice broke through Liz's distraction with almost shocking force, "I would like a word with you before you go."
Tossing a smile at Derrick, Liz turned and swayed back toward the art professor. Her back to him, she failed to see the shadow pass over Derrick's face as he turned and walked from the classroom, just as she failed to notice Ashton's eyes following the younger man's departure.
"Come over here, Ms. Edmunds," Ashton said firmly, directing Liz to a worktable where one of her works-in-progress was displayed. It was a small mixed media sculpture that suggested more than showed two standing figures blurring into each other.
Liz smiled slightly as she moved to stand in front of the piece. As she did, the professor moved to stand behind her. He braced his arms on the table on either side of her, and a thrill ran through Liz as she realized she was effectively trapped between the table and his body.
"Yes, professor?" Liz sighed. She could feel the heat of his body, almost touching her.
"Liz," he said, using her first name for the first time. His breath brushed her ear as he spoke. "You are one of my most promising students."
"Thank you, professor," Liz smiled slightly.
"Take this piece for instance," Ashton continued. He leaned closer. Liz felt his arms brush hers, his chest touching her shoulders. "It's very... provocative."
"Thank you. That's what I'd intended." Liz sighed. The piece had been inspired by Liz's first encounter with her friend Becky, a truly provocative memory.
Liz pushed herself back slightly, curving her body against the professor's. She could feel him pressing against her, his strong arms, his powerful chest and, as she shifted her hips against him, his hard shaft. She felt her breath quickening as Professor Ashton leaned against her. The stubble of his rough beard raked against her shoulder.
"I find it quite... inspiring," Ashton breathed into her neck. His hand traced slowly up Liz's arm, causing her to shiver in delight.
"I'm glad," Liz sighed. "I think inspiration should be... embraced."
"Yes, you're so right," Ashton growled, firmly pushing his face into the curve of Liz's shoulder. The coed gasped as Professor Ashton sucked on the soft flesh of her neck, his teeth firmly grazing her skin.
Ashton's hand, already sliding up her arm, dove roughly down the neck of her tank top. He forcefully grasped Liz's firm, round breast and pulled it free of its fabric constraints. Liz squealed. The professor's strong hand squeezed her bare breast. He sucked and bit at her neck with bruising force.
Liz felt consumed by passion. Her body pressed back against his. Her head lolled to the side, pressing her neck against his hungry mouth. Her hands clutched at his arms, holding tightly. Her hips rocked against him, rubbing against the firm bulge in his pants. A wild, uncontrolled moan escape her lips, the sound distantly shocking the part of her mind that was still capable of thought with the depth of animal lust it expressed.
Professor Ashton held her tightly. His mouth sucked passionately on her neck. His hand squeezed her breast firmly. His fingers circled her nipple, sending sparks of sensation through her body. His hips thrust against her, pressing his hard shaft into the cleft of her ass. Liz moaned again, the sound even more feral than before. Ashton thrust forward with his whole body, shoving her forcefully against the worktable. His finger pinched and twisted her nipple painfully. His teeth sank into her neck.
Liz's moan became a scream. Her whole body tensed and quivered. She felt trapped. Her body was pinned between his powerful form and the hard worktable. His hand and his mouth pulled at her, the sensations blurring between pleasure and pain. Suddenly, Liz was afraid.
"No," she gasped. Her own voice sounded alien to her, a guttural mix of longing and fear.
Professor Ashton seemed to overwhelm her. His body pressed so firmly against her that the hard edge of the table dug painfully into her belly. His hand clenched over her breast, squeezing it brutally. His teeth dug into her neck, threatening to draw blood.
Suddenly, everything changed. His mouth was gently brushing her hot neck. His hand lightly caressing her soft breast and firm nipple. Their bodies were barely touching, the distance between them teasingly slight. Liz whimpered at the professor's gentle fingers.
"Do you want me to stop?" Professor Ashton said, his lips brushing her neck as he spoke. "You only have to say it." One hand, feather light, teased sparks of pleasure from her breast, while the other slid along her belly, the pleasure of it almost tickling her.
She moaned. She felt hot, confused, inflamed. She knew she had wanted him to stop but she couldn't for the life of her remember why she should want this pleasure to end.
Ashton's hand slid lower, under the waistband of Liz's skirt, down into the warm wetness between her legs. Liz heard a pitiful whine escape her lips as the professor's fingers teased lightly against her clit.
"Do you want me to stop?" Ashton repeated firmly.
"No," Liz whimpered. Her entire body tingled with desperate desire, quivering each time his delicate touch brushed her nipples and teased her clit. "No, don't stop. Never stop. Never ever stop."
"Good," Professor Ashton gave a dark chuckle. Liz felt the dark rush of half-forgotten fear, but it vanished again in a moan of loss as his gentle hand slipped out from between her legs. Ashton's other hand continued to softly caress her breast while his lips nuzzled her neck, working slowly up to her ear. Liz shuddered as his tongue teasingly pulled her ear lobe into his mouth.
The charged sound of a zipper seemed to echo through the art room. A gasp escaped Liz as Professor Ashton leaned his weight against her, bending her over the worktable while his free hand pushed her short, loose skirt up around her hips. She felt the length of his hard shaft pressing against her naked skin as he leaned against her. Liz parted her thighs, shifting her hips as the professor guided himself between her legs. She moaned as the tip of him slid against her wet folds.
Tauntingly, he held himself there for a long moment, grazing his shaft against her pussy while his fingers teased her nipple and his mouth pulled lightly on her ear lobe. Liz groaned, rolling her hips in an effort to urge him on, to pull him inside her. He chuckled again, that dark chuckle that sent chills down her spine. Liz moaned, the deep, lusty, guttural moan that came from some primal urge deep inside.
Ashton's whole body tensed over her. As a single, blinding sensation Liz felt his fingers squeeze painfully around her nipple. His teeth bit hard into her ear lobe, while his penis surged deep into her with a single, brutal thrust. Liz shrieked as her senses screamed under the professor's violent assault.
"Yes!" Professor Ashton roared with savage triumph, as he thrust into her. "Oh, I knew."
Liz whimpered. Her hands clutched blindly at the edges of the table, clinging white knuckled. The professor had released her ear, but she could feel the weight of his powerful body looming over her. One hand continued to tease and pinch her breast, mingling pleasure and pain. The other hand held her hips firmly, holding her still while he thrust his long, hard shaft in and out of Liz's wet pussy with punishing force.
Liz moaned as her body responded. She felt trapped between pleasure and pain, between fear and lust. The professor was crushing her, but the heat and power of his body thrilled her. Her breast ached and she could no longer separate pleasure from pain. His penis thrust into her with bruising force, filling her as completely as she had ever felt.
Liz shuddered as she felt his fingers parting her ass cheeks. His thumb brushed against her anus. She moaned as he teased her sensitive sphincter and whimpered as she wondered what might follow. Her whole body tensed and quivered in lust, anticipation, pain and dread.
"Gods!" Professor Ashton cried out in a load, guttural moan. His body lunged against Liz. His fingers crushed her nipple while his thumb battered into her anus. Deep inside her, his long, hard penis surged, filling her with his hot, sticky cum. Tears dripped from Liz eyes as pleasure surged through her. Her body quivered, convulsing as a powerful orgasm ripped a scream from her raw throat.
With a final, loud groan, Professor Ashton released her completely. His hands seemed to fly away from her and his shaft withdrew with as much startling force as when it had entered. Liz sagged against the worktable, her body shaking.
"Come here, my dear," Ashton said hoarsely.
Liz looked over her shoulder, her eyes blurred with tears.
"Come here," Ashton repeated, gesturing toward his still hard shaft, sticky with their combined fluids.
With a shuddering sigh, Liz turned and lowered herself to her knees in front of him. Unthinking, her tongue darted out and lapped the length of his hard member. Slowly, gently she licked her way along his shaft, tasting her own musky flavor and the pungent sting of his semen. With patient care, she sucked his penis clean.
When he felt she had done enough, Ashton took her head in his hand and lifted her eyes to his.
"I knew," he sighed, "I knew you would be magnificent."
"Thank you," Liz whispered back, unable to say anything else as she lost herself in his eyes.
"I'm having a gathering at my house," he continued, "this weekend. For promising students such as yourself. You must come."
"Of course," Liz said, able to think of no reason to refuse. It felt perfectly natural to be asked to the professor's house while kneeling in front of his softening penis. From somewhere deep in her mind, a thought occurred, "Can I bring Becky?"
"Becky?" Ashton's mouth shaped the name slowly, as if tasting it for the first time, "Of course. By all means, bring your friend."
Smiling, the professor pushed his penis back into his pants and zipped himself up.
"Until this weekend, Ms. Edmunds," he said, and turned to go.
Derrick found Liz still kneeling on the floor of the art room. Her tank top was still pushed down, leaving one breast bare save for the drops of blood leaking from her bitten ear. Her eyes were closed and her fingers were working vigorously between her parted thighs.
As he watched, Liz moaned and shuddered as her orgasm overtook her. When he felt the waves of pleasure fade from her body, he knelt gently beside her.
"Come on," he said firmly, "Let's get you cleaned up and take you home."