“Professor— Sir, is there anything I can do to improve my grade? Anything at all?”
She noted how he licked his lips, how his cock twitched in his well-cut trousers. She was already on Dean’s list, but so loved to play the desperate sorority girl….just as much as he loved to play unethical teacher.
“Stay right as you are, slut!” he hissed. He rose and locked his office door, then lifted her skirt with his metal ruler.
“No panties, miss? You didn’t think this through, did you?” he drawled, the ruler landing with a sharp *splat* on her bum. He liked how it bounced and spanked the other cheek. She let out a low, satisfied groan as he landed five more hard hits.
“No, I didn’t, Sir. Thank you, Sir!” she breathed. It was always so good. How would she live without this next year?
“How will I live without you, next year?” he answered softly, stroking her hair, then pulling it hard, lifting her from the desk and turning her to face him.
“I can’t believe I said that out loud, Sir!” She blushed at her weakness. And what he just said. Fuck!
He smiled then ripped open her blouse, slapping her full breasts hard. She was so close. So his. Breathing hard as he twisted then pinched her nipples, her eyes closed in bliss. He pushed her back onto the desk, his fat cock sliding over her hot wetness, teasing her greedy clit.
“Goddam, Sir! Please! I need it!” she begged, desperate. It may be their last time…
He slid inside her achingly slowly, watching his cock disappear inside her sweet tight cunt, watching her face as she tried to hold back, waiting for his command. He needed this. So much.
With his hands around her neck he thrust into her, hard, punctuating each word.
“You’re. Going. To be. My graduate. Student. In. The. Fall. My. Research. Assistant. Do not. Say. No!”
“Yes—yes! Oh god, please!”
“You’ll give up your place at Duke?” he growled, fucking her so hard she was having trouble staying on the desk.
“Jesus Christ! Yes! Anything for you—”
“Then cum, dirty bitch—cum!”
As they lay sprawled on his desk she smiled happily, stroking his hair. Four more years under his expert guidance would be heaven…
Fine like wine.
I am morally unable to scroll past this without reblogging it. I’m so sorry (not sorry)
Make yourself cum on it, boy.