Professor Trouble

by May, Soraya

  The bar is almost empty, and the twilight outside means I can get in pretty much unobserved. I'm actually on time for once, but he's there already, in a booth at the back, leaning back, reading a book. He's wearing a deep blue suit, and the lines of the jacket broaden his shoulders. In the dark, he looks like a panther, unhurried, relaxed, waiting.

  Standing in front of him, I cough quietly, and he looks up. For a moment, he looks concerned, and then the concern is replaced by an earnest professionalism.

  “E—Ms Masterson. Thanks for coming. Please, take a seat." I slip in opposite him, and he leans across the table looking at me.

  There's a pause. Is he wanting me to say something? I guess I came here to apologize. Another deep breath.

  "Professor, I want to apologize unreservedly for my conduct on Wednesday. It was completely unprofessional, and I don't know what I was doing, I—" He cuts me off, and I realize he's looking worried again.

  "Ms. Masterson, please—I should be apologizing to you." His face is lined with concern, and I notice he's older than I thought he was. But really fucking sexy. "I should never have let things go as far as they did."

  I guess I might get out of this without being kicked out of the college after all. "Well, I—I found the notebook, and what was written in it had a pretty strong effect on me." I'm not sure how much to tell him, but I guess he knows this already.

  He smiles, and it's the same smile I see in class when he's talking, and people are engaged and laughing; it's the smile of someone who genuinely enjoys being in front of people.

  "I guess I'm glad, as inappropriate as it is for me to say that. Maybe the most important part of communication is the desire to be heard by other people."

  I've somehow ended up sitting closer to him than I'd expected.

  Did I move?

  Or did he move?

  "Yes, definitely. I mean, the idea of that girl being desired like that, so completely...No-one could resist that, honestly."

  "You think so, huh? I can see what you mean."

  Suddenly, I'm close to him, and all I can see is the line of his jaw in the darkness, and his smoky eyes, fixed on me. He growls, and there's a note of warning in his voice.

  “Ms. Masterson, you should—" My head spins, and before I know what I'm doing, I kiss him.

  Oh shit.

  My mouth is on his and my hands are on his shoulders and I'm hanging on to him as hard as I can. He makes a low noise deep in his chest, and I can't tell if he's angry, or if it's something else.

  His arms are spread wide across the back of the booth and all I can do is push myself onto him. His mouth tastes like peppermint and I'm drowning in the smell of his aftershave, and those eyes.

  He growls again, but I can hardly hear him over the pounding in my chest. Now his arms are around me, enfolding me, and he’s crushing me against his chest.

  He's so fierce it's almost painful. Yes. Oh God, yes. Make me yours.

  In the darkness no-one can see us, and without taking my mouth of his, I straddle him, my dress hitched up. I can feel his erection pressing against me. Oh, God, yes, please.

  His hands press down my sides, starting at my shoulders, and all the way down to my hips. He pulls me onto him, and I grind against him as my tongue searches the inside of his mouth.

  I can't believe this is happening. I can't believe how wet I am already. He has me nearly ready to come, and all I've done is kiss him.

  His erection is pushing me up, jamming the table in the center of the booth painfully into the small of my back, but I don't care. I want to be as close to him as I possibly can. My arms go around his neck, and I feel one of his hands in my hair.

  He tilts my head back, and almost pulls my mouth off him. "Aaaah....". Another long, deep groan, right from the center of his chest again.

  With my head tilted back, my neck is exposed to him, and he descends on it like he's possessed, kissing and biting from my jaw, down past my throat, to my collarbone. He's perfect, just spice and heat, and I can't get enough.

  I grind my pelvis into him, hard, and whisper in his ear. "I want you. Now. As soon as possible."

  "Sooner.". His voice is muffled as he continues kissing my neck. I'm going to have to wear turtleneck sweaters for a week to avoid awkward questions.

  Finally, deliciously, we surface, and lean back, panting, looking at each other. His hair is flecked with sweat, but I don't know if it's his, or mine. For a moment he pauses, and he looks like my professor again, the careful, thoughtful man I watch as he talks, twice a week.

  But then it passes, and his dark eyes flash, and he's the panther again. The one who wants me. The one who's going to take me tonight. I know this as surely as I know anything.

  "Come with me. My apartment." His voice is heavy with desire, and I lick my lips, producing an involuntary groan from him.

  “Yes. Yes, please.” I slide off him, and fumble for the straps of my dress, grabbing at my bag, eager to get out of here as soon as possible, and be alone with him. He stands up, and takes my hand.

  We slip out the back of the bar, and into the warm fall darkness. We hardly say anything as we walk, hurried, nothing to say except now, and this way, and up here. His hand is around mine, tight, as if he's afraid to let me go in case I run, or change my mind.

  I'm not going to damn well change my mind. I've never wanted a man this much, not like this.

  His keys rattle in the door to his apartment. Inside, it's unadorned, and sterile, but I hardly notice. My bag drops to the floor, and before I can say anything, I'm in his arms again, pinned against the wall, his hands in my hair.

  Our faces are an inch apart, and I can see every part of his face, all the details I couldn't from twenty feet away in the lecture hall. The little freckle on his top lip, the way his mouth curves up at the edges.

  "You want this?" He's giving me another chance to say no, but he doesn't understand I've wanted this for longer than either of us realized.

  My voice is croaky when it finally comes. "Yeah. I want it. I want you. I want you to have me. All of me."

  He slips an arm around my waist, and pulls me tight against him, away from the wall, pushing the bedroom door open with his other hand. My feet are hardly touching the floor.

  We make it into the bedroom, and I've already started pulling at his tie, loosening it to the point I can kiss his neck the way he was kissing mine. I can't get enough of his scent, the mixture of cologne and sweat and male musk, and under it, the deeper smell of his arousal. I collapse under him on the bed, fingers still working, on his shirt buttons now. The taste of his sweat on my tongue, the feeling of his arm underneath me.

  I want to capture all of this and slow it down, so I can make it last for hours, but it's happening so fast. Please, make this last all night.

  I've got two of his shirt buttons undone now, and I feel a momentary concern for the cost of his shirt—it's a really nice shirt—but it's swept away as his hand slides up my dress.

  He starts at my knee, just at the hem, with one fingertip, then two. Up my thigh, very slowly, pressing more firmly as he goes. The feeling of his fingers just on my thigh is burning, and I'm almost afraid of what it's going to feel like when he gets to my clit. His other hand slides through my hair now, and I'm pinned underneath him, arms pushed up against my chest.

  His lips dip close to mine again, and he speaks, almost in a whisper. "Tell me what you want, Emily."

  "I want you inside me." My voice is hoarse again.

  "Tell me again. I love to hear you say that." His fingertips trace a line of fire up over my hips, and outline the hem of my panties.

  "I—I want you inside me. I want your cock."

  "Louder, Emily." He hooks a finger under my panties, and twists them tight against me. The material rubs against my clit, and I give a little shriek. He must know he has me right on the edge already.

  "I want your cock, Professor. I need you to fuck me. Please." Do you want me to beg, Will? Because I'll beg if that's w
hat you want. God, will I fucking beg. It must be written all over my face, because he smiles, and gives the tiniest shake of his head.

  "No need to say please, Ms. Masterson. Not tonight. Tonight, you shall have everything you want."

  The hand in my hair twists tighter, down to my roots, and his kisses start again, hot on my neck, frantic. The fingers unhook from the hem of my panties, and slide across my thigh, searching me out. A single stroke across the front makes me shiver, pressing the fabric into me again, and then he dives inside me, one finger at a time. I gasp out loud, and push my hips up towards him, wanting his fingers inside me deeper.

  By now he's on top of me and my legs are spread apart, dress hiked up over my hips. I'd be worried about how I look if I weren't so fucking horny right now. His fingers slide slowly in and out of me, and his thumb starts to trace circles around my clit, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

  All I can do is gasp into his shoulder. "Yes. Jesus. Oh, my God. Yes.”

  His hand in my hair slides down underneath me, and rests under my butt. Pushing himself back off me, he guides the motion of my hips on his fingers. Again, again, just there.

  I'm helpless on his fingers, and my lower body is going limp. It's like being on a roller-coaster—my body is out of my own control, but every time there's a dip, the sensation bolts straight from my core, up into my chest, and into my throat, coming out as a whimper of pleasure. Again, again.

  One dip, another, and I can feel the big one coming up, hurtling towards me, faster than I had ever expected.

  "I'm going to—"

  And it's too late. I melt into him, sweat and tears on his shoulder, clinging on as hard as I can in case I shatter.

  18

  Her mouth is right next to my ear, and I can hear every gasp and sound of pleasure she makes as she comes, hips bucking on my fingers.

  I’ve never heard anything so delicious in my life. I hold her just there, slowly relaxing the pressure of my fingers inside her. I don't know if she's the sort of girl who gets more sensitive the moment she's climaxed, or the sort who wants, who needs, to start again right away. But I want to find out.

  This time, though, nice and easy. I luxuriate in the feeling of her pressed against my chest, and her arms around me. I want to envelop her, to be all about her, to give her everything, and I don't want to think about what that means for the future. Tonight, no professor and student. Tonight, two people.

  She's back sooner than I expect, and she shakes her hair out of her eyes. Her arms are still trapped underneath my chest, and she can't move, but we're so close I feel the motion of her head shaking ripple all the way down her body. Somehow, still breathing heavy, tear-streaked, she manages to cock her head and give me that inquisitive look I've grown to know and love in class. I dip my head and kiss the tip of her nose.

  "And now, Ms. Masterson, what would you like?" She grins, and despite the pretty smile I can see the hunger in her eyes.

  "I would like.." her hands shift, crushed between us.

  "...you to be...", grasping my cock.

  "...inside me...", rubbing me through my trousers, as if I weren't hard enough already.

  "...right now.".

  I disentangle myself from her clothes, slowly and a little unwillingly, and stand up. She gets to her feet, and with a little wriggle, her dress slips to the floor.

  I would marvel at how easy it was for her to do that, but I can't think of anything right now, because the sight of her body has driven everything else out of my head.

  Like a dying man in the desert confronted with an oasis, I want to drink it all at once. I don't know where to look.

  I start with her feet, pretty little toes visible inside her kitten heels, and my gaze travels up, over her ankles—want to spend an hour just kissing those ankles—up her calves, over her thighs which are still thick with her juices, and across her stomach. The lace trim on her bra stands out against her skin, and the wire lifts her breasts high up on her chest. I finally make it to her face, and to my shock, she looks worried. She's nervous. Jesus, she's naked in front of a guy who's fifteen years her senior. Of course she's nervous.

  I take her chin in one hand, and step closer to her. Her bottom lip trembles. A moment ago she was a luscious sex-goddess demanding my cock, and now she looks like a frightened little girl. I don't know if I want to fuck her silly, or take her in my arms and stroke her hair, and comfort her. Maybe I want both.

  Whatever I want, it's time I let her know how beautiful she is. "Emily. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." She nods, slowly, but the lust in her eyes has been replaced by doubt. No, that's enough of that. Whatever happens to us, I want her to be happy. Before she can say anything, I tilt her head up, and touch her lips to mine.

  Desire surges through me the instant we touch, but I fight the urge to throw her on the bed, and thrust my cock into her. Instead, I kiss her, gently and then insistently, tracing my tongue slowly around her teeth. She stiffens against me, and another little moan escapes her lips.

  Very carefully, I drop to my knees in front of her, and peel off her panties. They slip down her slick thighs easily, and she steps out of them, first one foot, then the other. Placing my hands on her hips, I sit her down on the bed, knees together. She's still tense. I kiss her cute little kneecaps, one after another, and look up at her quizzically.

  That does it; she giggles, and breaks into a smile.

  "I like seeing you smile, Emily. I always do."

  "Really? Those times in class, you weren't just looking at me because I was answering questions?"

  I chuckle. "I think you know I wasn't. But what you don't know is the effect your smile would have on me, Ms. Masterson. I'd ask questions to which I knew you would know the answer, just so I could watch you talk."

  "Really? And here I was thinking I'd just done the reading and I—oohh—"

  This last ooohh is because I spread her knees apart, and, while she was talking and distracted, slid my tongue across her thigh. She doesn't finish her sentence quite yet.

  My tongue traces a line up the inside of her thigh, as I slide my hands underneath her butt. I want to have her writhing on my tongue before I'm inside her. I want to give her pleasure in every possible way.

  Her knees go up around me, and her thighs part. I take my time progressing slowly towards her center. I want her to know what's coming and to have time to savor it. One stroke across her clit, left to right, and a shiver. Another stroke, and a muffled gasp.

  "Ooohh, God.."

  Very slowly, I press my tongue flat against her clit and hold it there, giving her time to get used to the sensation. My senses are filled up with her, and it's the most sumptuous thing I can think of. The silky feeling of her ass under my hands, and the scent of her in my nostrils. If I didn't control myself, I'd explode in my pants just from doing this.

  Just as she gets used to it, I pulse my tongue into her, once, twice, again, and again. Never leaving her clit, never inside her—not yet—and never too hard. You can only do this with the tongue, because fingers aren't sensitive enough. She begins to open up underneath me, like a flower blooming, and I feel the wetness coming from her. I put my whole mouth on her, and start stroking her clit with my tongue, from bottom to top.

  She's gone quiet now, and all I can hear is her little gasps at the end of every stroke. Tasting her like this, I never want to let her out of my hands. I want to fill her up with every kind of pleasure, until she can't move or think or do anything. One finger slides into her, and finds her G-spot, making her back arch, but she's still quiet. Focused. I love how hard she concentrates here, just like in class. Steady pressure inside her, and her breathing deepens. I know she's close again, and I resist the urge to speed up the strokes of my tongue.

  Her body tenses, and I press just a little harder inside, bringing a muffled oath from her.

  "Fuuuuck....W-w-w-"

  She's trying to say my name, but can't get it out from around her pleasure. That's s
o fucking sexy, Emily. I want to tell you every day how sexy that is.

  A little faster now, pushing her towards her climax. Her hands slide into my hair, twisting, pulling with every pulse. I can feel her muscles tense and relax, tense and relax, until finally they tense and she shudders. I savor the moment for a second, and then press my tongue into her, hard. She takes one very deep breath, and starts to shudder, still quiet, as I feel her orgasm ripple through her. I love giving you pleasure, Ms. Masterson. I hold her, staying in this position until it subsides, and she comes back down.

  After a moment, I slide my hand out from under her ass, and kiss my way gently up her stomach. Her eyes are open now, and a slow smile creeps across her face as she sees me.

  "Enjoying yourself, Ms. Masterson?" Her little tongue comes out and sweeps across her white teeth.

  "Oh, yes, Professor. Very much."

  "Ready for the next course?" I grin, trying not to look wolfish, and failing miserably.

  "I think so."

  Dropping to my knees again, I unbuckle her shoes and slip them off her feet. A gentle line traced along her instep makes her giggle. "Ticklish?"

  "A little, especially...ohhh..right now." My fingers go up her calf again, and I resist the urge to plunge them back into her pussy. As much as I love to see her writhing in front of me, my cock is rock-hard in my pants, and I need to feel her around me. Standing back, I unbuckle my trousers, and drop them to the floor. She makes a mock little-girl look of surprise, with a hint of naughtiness.

  "My goodness, Professor. I hadn't expected that."

  I smile, despite myself. "It's nice to be appreciated for something other than one's teaching, Ms. Masterson."

  Kneeling over her, I part her legs, pressing myself against her pussy. "Now?"

  She nods.

  Slowly, slowly into her, feeling her part and swallow me up. No sound, except another deep breath. Her eyes locked on mine, never leaving me. Her hands in mine, fingers entwined, gripping me tight. She's so small underneath me, but she swallows me up completely. I don't want to cause her any discomfort, but she's sucking me all the way into her. It takes all my concentration not to explode inside her right away, but we pause for a moment, just there, joined.