My Sexy Professor

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My Sexy Professor Page 4

by Juliette Jones


  I dish up the food and put our plates on the table. I lift her up and carry her to my chair, sitting her on my lap. I arrange her body so her legs are open. And I start to feed her. “That’s my good girl.”

  She takes a bite. Then another sip of champagne. “You’re so good to me, Professor Colton.”

  “I’ll always be good to you, sweetheart. I’ll give you everything you want.”

  She runs her fingers through my hair again. “You’re so nice. I love being with you.”

  I feed her the rest of her food and as she chews, she moans a little. “It tastes so good,” she says.

  “I need to keep you well fed.”

  “Because you work me so hard,” she smiles.

  I narrow my eyes at her and she laughs. She’s finished all her food and she takes the last sip of her drink. I top it up.

  “Professor Colton?”

  “Yes, Ivy.”

  She pulls her dress up over her absurdly lush breasts. She wriggles on my lap, making my cock so hard it’s painful. She blinks her eyelashes coquettishly. “I’m still thirsty.”

  Naughty girl. “Baby, you’ve had enough for now.” I just feel like I’ve pushed her too hard. I want to pace this so she doesn’t get worn out, or run away. Admittedly, she doesn’t look worn out. Her nipples are pink and taut against the pale perfection of her creamy mounds, begging to be sucked. Her pussy is so wet she’s making a wet spot on my jeans where she’s squirming against my cock.

  She makes a little face, petulant. “I haven’t had enough.” She’s pouting. “I want to suck your big cock and taste your cum. Please, Professor Colton. I want you to come in my mouth. Please? Let me.”

  “Ivy,” I say sternly, but who the fuck are we kidding here. She’ll get whatever she asks for.

  She knows this. She bats her eyelashes again and puts a cushion from one of the chairs onto the floor between my knees. She peels her dress all the way off. Then she feeds her nipple to my mouth. “Pretend you’re drinking,” she says.

  Fuck.

  I suck on her and she squirms and giggles again but she’s shimmying down my body. Kneeling between my legs.

  My jeans are already unbuttoned and my cock is mostly out, wet with her honey and the pulses of pre-cum that won’t stop spilling. “You’re so big, Professor Colton. I want to suck you til you come in my mouth. I want to drink you,” she smiles mischievously.

  I’m powerless. I’ll do whatever this little nymphet says.

  She pushes my jeans all the way open and takes my ludicrously engorged cock in her delicate hands.

  Then she licks me. I almost come, just like that.

  I groan. “I’m not going to last long, baby girl.”

  “That’s okay,” she giggles. “I don’t want you to last long. I want you to lose control.” She takes the head of my cock between her lips, licking me clean. She takes me deeper, sucking harder as her nimble little fingers squeeze my cock and tentatively explore.

  I exhale, swearing some filthy oath. Because I can’t take it. My orgasm is roaring up my cock like a fucking freight train. It’s too much. She’s so sweet, so innocent. And my cum spurts out in throbbing jets, into her mouth, until she can’t take any more. She’s trying to swallow some but there’s too much of it. And I’m still coming. All over her face, her hair, her bouncy breasts. It’s spilling down her chin. It looks dirty and seedy, what I’m doing to her. I love it and I hate it. I’m making a mess all over my little girl and I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop.

  Once my climax finally spins out, I pull her back up onto my lap. I take a napkin and do my best to wipe away some of the mess I’ve made of her.

  I feed her another sip of champagne. I study her sweet face, pushing her hair behind her ear, wondering what’s going on in her head. Is she mad? Freaked out? “Baby girl? You okay?”

  She smiles at me from under long eyelashes, touching my face with her fingers. “I am your baby girl. And I guess I won’t have any trouble getting pregnant when I want to, will I, my big, lusty Colton Harrison?”

  I’m not sure how to answer this. But my heart beats faster. Comments like that mean she wants to stay with me. To be with me. “If that’s what you want, honey. But you’re still a baby yourself. There’s a big wide world out there for you to explore.”

  “I like it here with you.” She runs her fingers along the rough surface of my jaw. “You come so much,” she laughs.

  “That’s because you’re so beautiful, honey pie. I can’t help myself.”

  She kisses my lips.

  And I kiss hers. “I’m going to clean you up a little, then I’m going to take you for a spin out on my boat.” I lift her up and kick my jeans off, taking her back up to my shower.

  “Can I stay with you again tonight?” she says, and her eyes look shiny, like she’s about to cry.

  “Of course you can, baby. I want you with me every night.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Colton? It’s okay if call you that?”

  She could call me Douchebag and I would answer. “Sure you can.”

  “I wish we didn’t have to sneak around. I want to stay with you all the time.”

  “I’m going to resign on Monday,” I say. “So we won’t have to sneak around.”

  I guide us under the hot spray of the shower and she wraps her arms and legs around me, her eyes wide. “Resign? Are you sure? Isn’t that sort of … drastic? And final?”

  “I’ve been thinking about resigning for a while. I don’t actually need this job. I have a very healthy portfolio that’s growing by the hour. I also have a boat that I spend a lot of time on. I’ve been thinking about sailing south, maybe to the Caribbean for a few months. The faculty at this school are a bunch of fucking idiots anyway. I need a change.”

  “Oh.”

  She looks a little worried so I kiss her again. “What’s wrong, baby girl?”

  “I just don’t know if you should quit your job.”

  “How about you let me worry about my job? And everything else. All you need to do is relax. And kiss me again.”

  It’s so extreme that he wants to quit his job. For me? I mean, it’s only been one night. One extremely amazing night, but still.

  I feel a little worried that we’re taking this so fast. Then again, this is something I’ve been planning and obsessing about for six months. And it’s better than anything I fantasized about. My professor – my lover – is the sexiest, lustiest red-blooded man I’ve ever known. Maybe he’s been planning for it, too.

  I can’t get enough of him. I just want to keep touching him and tasting him as much as he lets me. And enticing him in every way I can think of.

  We’re driving to the marina where his boat is parked. We’re in his newest model convertible red Mustang and he drives it fast. I guess it’s true what he said about his portfolio, because he definitely seems like he has plenty of money.

  So do I. If he quits his job to go sailing around the world on his boat … I want to go with him. I can’t believe I’m even thinking this. But I am.

  I can always go back to school, if I want to. I don’t need to. I’ve made enough money from my app to live comfortably for the rest of my life without ever working again.

  Colton notices me watching him and smiles at me. He’s wearing wayfarer sunglasses and his hair is windblown from having the top down. He looks so sexy I can hardly stand it.

  “I’m going to stop at this general store and get a few supplies. That way we can stay on the boat tonight if we want to.”

  “We can sleep on it?”

  “Of course. I want you to pick out anything you want to eat or drink.” So we look around the store and fill up our shopping basket. Colton goes to the glass refrigerators to pick out some more champagne for us. I walk over to the magazine rack and start leafing through one of the magazines. The guy standing behind the counter winks at me. He’s around my age. A college boy, probably, maybe even one from my school, alt
hough I don’t recognize him.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hi.”

  He walks out from behind the counter. “Can I help you find anything?”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m just looking.”

  I realize I must look a little strange. The short skirt of my dress is ripped all the way up my thigh. And I’m not wearing any panties, so the skin of my thigh all the way up to my hip is visible. All it would take was a light breeze to lift the front of my dress to reveal my bare pussy. My pink baby doll dress is tight-fitting and looks like it’s been manhandled. Which it has. And my breasts are bare under the thin fabric and possibly a little too big for this dress, so my nipples are clearly visible. Basically, I’m not wearing enough clothes to be in public like this.

  This guy doesn’t seem to mind. In fact he’s staring. And he walks closer.

  “You’re in my economics class,” he says. “You’re Ivy.” Now that he’s said that, I do remember him. Vaguely.

  “Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Jason.”

  “Hi, Jason.”

  “You look amazing,” he says.

  I’m not sure how to reply. And just as I’m trying to think of something to say, Colton grabs Jason’s shirt at his neck and pulls him aggressively so they’re standing face to face. Colton is so much taller and about twice the weight, he’s sort of looming over Jason with this furious look on his face. He’s so big and so masculine, he makes Jason look like a little boy.

  “P … Professor Harrison?” Jason says.

  “Don’t fucking look at her,” Colton growls.

  “At Ivy?”

  “Don’t you fucking look at her.”

  “O … Okay,” Jason stutters. “I won’t.”

  Colton releases his fist and Jason sort of falls backwards a little before regaining his balance. Jason looks at Colton, then back at me.

  “You two are … together?”

  “If you say a word to anyone,” Colton says, “you’ll live to sincerely fucking regret it.” Gosh. Colton could get into big trouble for this. Sleeping with one student, threatening another.

  “I … I won’t say anything,” says Jason. “I swear.”

  “Good. Now, are you going to sell me this shit or what?” Colton picks up our shopping basket and slams it down next to the cash register.

  “Sure. Yes. Of course.” Jason’s a wreck. As anyone would be if Colton was so rough with them. I should know. Remembering how rough he was with me, I can’t help smiling and touching Professor Colton’s huge bicep.

  After all the food and bottles of wine are paid for and bagged up, I wave to Jason as we’re leaving.

  “I promise I won’t tell,” he says.

  “Thank you,” I say. “We’d really appreciate it if you didn’t.”

  I’m sure he won’t, after Colton’s very-persuasive warning. But even if he does, does it matter?

  Colton’s surly as we drive the rest of the way.

  “You’re beastly,” I say. “Scaring that poor boy like that.” But I’m easing my palm along his thigh, to his big cock, which is, as always, hard as stone. I touch its bulk through his jeans with my fingers.

  “You like me tough, and mean,” he says. “You like it when I protect you.”

  He’s right. I love it when he’s tough. And I love it when he goes all caveman on me. In fact, it’s almost scaring me how much I love pretty much everything about Colton Harrison.

  We park at the marina and he takes me to his boat. “This is your boat?” I gasp.

  “Yes.”

  “This is a yacht.”

  “Technically, yes. Forty feet.”

  He helps me onboard and leads me down into the spacious galley kitchen with modern appliances, to a huge living area with big windows and comfortable couches. There’s even a t.v. There’s a big bedroom, too, with a king-sized bed and a round window that looks out just above the water level.

  “Professor Colton. This is amazing.”

  He sets down some of the groceries he bought and scoops me into a hug. “You like it, baby girl? Let’s take her for a spin. Just you and me.”

  I put the groceries in the fridge as Colton gets the boat going and by the time I climb back up onto the deck we’re out in open water with an amazing view of the shoreline. The sun overhead is hot and the sky is blue. He brings me a glass of champagne and I sit on one of the reclining seats. “I love this,” I tell him.

  “So do I, sweetheart. It’s perfect.” He clinks his glass against mine. “You are perfect.”

  He’s so sweet. So nice. So protective. I want to make him as happy as he makes me. And just watching him, sun-tanned in his white shirt and jeans, like a preppy Greek god, I want more of him.

  So I peel my dress up my body and over my head, tossing it aside.

  I’m young, I’m free and I’m turned on. I want to feel the sun on my naked skin. I need to feel his gaze on my naked body.

  I take another sip of my champagne, smiling at him as his face goes stern again, with reckless, white-hot lust. I dip two fingers into my drink and touch my pussy, wetting it, opening my petals so he can see me. I dip my fingertips into my slippery core, moaning a little. I touch the ice-cold champagne flute to my nipple, gasping at the contact, until it peaks into a tight little bud. One, then the other.

  He drains his drink, setting it aside, and slowly unzips his pants, taking his engorged, angry-looking cock in his fist. Rubbing along the length of it in a slow up-down slide.

  It’s too much. I want his cock. It’s mine. I want all of him. Everything.

  So I get up and walk slowly over to where he’s sitting. I climb onto him, touching his cock to my clit, sliding his crown inside my tight, saturated pussy. His hands grip my ass and he helps me slide lower, taking more of him. I’m too tight, and still sore, but I don’t care. I want him too badly. I slide up and down, using my own juices to wet him, bouncing lightly to take more of him into my body. Holding my hips, he bucks up into me and I cry out.

  His level gaze watches my face and I lean closer, licking his lip. Biting gently.

  “More,” I gasp. The thick girth of his cock inside me feels delicious, stretching me, forcing its way inside.

  I start writhing onto him and he bucks into me again, sliding deeper. We continue this searching rhythm until I’m fully impaled by his hot, slick length. I start riding him, sliding up then all the way down, taking him as deep as I can. On each down-slide, his cock drives deeper pleasure into me. So I do it again. And again.

  “Mine,” I whisper, looking into his eyes.

  I like that I’m naked and he’s fully clothed. I like that we’re out in the open where anyone might see us. There are boats in the distance but I don’t care.

  The only thing I care about is taking more of him, riding him, fucking him.

  The waves start. His fingers are everywhere, rubbing the pleasure higher. Until I come. And the swell crashes hard as he finds his own release, pumping me full of his hot cum as my pussy tugs and squeezes lusciously around him.

  I collapse onto him, totally spent by the intensity of my orgasm. After a while, he pulls out and the rivulets of his cum gush down my thighs. He lifts me. He gently sets me back on the reclining chair and he lays next to me, lazily rubbing his seed over my skin. “Mine,” he smiles, kissing my lips. “You’re mine, baby girl. I’m not letting you go.”

  “Good,” I say. “Because I’m not letting you let me go. I want to stay.”

  If I hadn’t known that I was resigning on Monday morning and that Ivy was dropping out of school to come with me to sail around the Caribbean for the next few months, I wouldn’t have returned home. Our weekend on the boat was too good. Her face. Her body. Her ridiculously sweet mouth.

  But the sooner I get all this shit dealt with, the better.

  I plan on resigning today.

  At first I tried to talk her out of it. She should stay in school, I said. We could work something out. She could still l
ive with me, I could grow my investments and we could sail on the weekends. Or something. I don’t actually give a fuck what I do as long as she’s with me. I’ve never been in love before and when it happens, you fucking know it. Because it hits you like a goddamn ton of bricks.

  So then she starts crying and telling me she doesn’t want to stay in school. That she doesn’t need to. She’s got a shitload of money she made from some app she developed and sold. I was impressed. My little goddess is also a business prodigy. And a temptress. And an angel. Still, I argued: getting an education is important blah blah blah. She insisted she doesn’t need it and started crying again – which I can’t take. I just can’t. I’ll do anything to get her to stop crying.

  So I agreed. Of course I fucking did. I agreed she could put her studies on hold and come with me.

  Who fucks someone then invites them to spend three months with them on their yacht? That’s what I want to know. Me, that’s who. Because it was a long, agonizing build-up. We’d been lusting after each other for six fucking months, trying to resist. Trying to ‘do the right thing’. According to who?

  From now on, I’m living my life for one thing and one person only. Her. For making her feel good and safe and happy.

  And that’s exactly what I plan on doing. Starting now.

  I storm into my office. I’m in a shitty mood. Because it’s been an entire hour since I saw her. Or tasted her. Or smelled that ludicrously young, sweet scent of her.

  And yes, she’ll be in my class in exactly thirty-five minutes. Which will be even more torturous. Seeing her but not being able to touch.

  I knock on Marcia Helms’s office door. Since she’s the head of the economics department she’s the person who can officially accept my resignation.

  She smiles and sits up straight as soon as I walk in. “Colton. So nice to see you again.”

  “Marcia.”

  “What can I do for you? Were you thinking maybe we should go out again? Because I –” she titters and the sound is annoying as fuck – “well, we shouldn’t, really, since we’re work colleagues and everything, but it would be fun.”

 

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