Chapter Text
“Professor Ackerman?” you strided up to his desk, looking at him as he scribbled notes on the plethora of essay’s he had to grade. “Would you like any help with those?” The man looked up at you, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. Rubbing off the sleep and burning sensation that persisted from strenuous amounts of grading and a lack of sleep.
He cleared his throat and handed you a marker from in his desk drawer. “I’m not supposed to, but I'm tired so your help will be greatly appreciated.” He gave you a soft smile and got up to grab you a chair pulling it next to his own.
You could tell how tired he was, hair messy, sleeves of his dress shirt barely rolled up and his dress pants too wrinkly to see the details that would’ve told you that they were indeed ironed that morning. You were the last student he’d want to be seen with while looking like this. He was so tired and needed some relief, and you were here to give it to him in more ways than one.
You patted out the ruffles in your skirt and pulled your hair back to get it out of your face. “Of course, I don’t mind helping at all,” you smiled, “besides I don’t have anything else to do.” He laughed at your statement, not feeling as bad for keeping you back from whatever activities he thought you teens engaged in.
Hell who would want to stay back with their professor and grade papers out of the “goodness” of their heart. You ofcourse the over achiever. The student who insisted that they get on all their professors' good side because at the end of the semester that’s where the points came in. But Professor Ackerman was different; he was strict, sterner than the average professor.
Yet with you extra points were not necessary. When it came to you, you were his perfect student. Well renowned and didn’t need any extra points at the end of the semester. He graded our papers out of the pure smitten feelings he held in his heart, he wouldn’t dare give you a bad great. What part of you is perfect would you not understand.
However, you noticed something about this professor, he was the person you didn’t expect him to be. The type who shied away from his colleagues, the one who didn’t engage with most cause he was a dirty man. Dirty before your time, but became a filthy mess when you walked through his classroom door on the first day.
A day he remembers well; the outfit you wore, the style your hair was in and jewelry that you paired it with. You were cute, the only word that came to his mind, because he didn’t want to see you as an adult. He didn’t want to let his brazen and incredulous thoughts bring you up to his own level of adultness. If he could’ve kept you young and had the ability to tone down his intentions he wouldn’t be in this predicament now.
At first you didn’t notice it, how he would come up to you and make conversation. He tended to congratulate you on your work openly in front of the class,numerously, compared to the other students he refused to speak of them. Always complimenting every little thing you did, every new hairstyle, your outfits; he wouldn't allow anything you did to slip past him.
He was trained on you, but at this moment he had not known that you had known - rather he hoped you hadn’t figured it out. But you weren’t dumb, not the same student you were at the beginning of the semester. You were aware, prone to what college had done to that freshman mindset of yours that you entered with.
He misjudged the entire relationship, the poor professor really thought he managed to keep it casual but you noticed it one day. The day when you stopped being a nervous wreck in class and decided to ask him your first ever class lecture question.
“I’m sorry professor but I’m still confused on the difference between Rolle’s Theorem and the Extreme Value Theorem, what conditions must be met with both again?” And he was way too happy to answer your question. He even offered that you stay after class so that you two could go over some practice problems, to which you did and things escalated rather quickly.
“Remember y/n when you plug in the endpoints given by the interval into the function they should equal each other.” he scratched his head trying to make this mini lesson as easy as possible to understand. Not only that but his heart raced to stay tame as he was slowly losing himself. “If they don’t then a maximum or minimum value may not be guaranteed.”
“I think I’m starting to get it sir, so basically I just need to make sure that I remember that Rolle’s theorem has three rules and the other only has two.” You looked up at him as he hovered next to you at your desk. And God how he wished he could focus on that last bit, but he was too caught up in your chest.
Your cleavage, and how soft they looked nearly spilling out over your top. Matters got super awkward when you tried to grab his attention and and his erection slightly rubbed against your arm. At that time you didn’t think that, that’s what THAT was but looking back it was the case.
Because the slight nudge made him apologize immediately and he played it off perfectly in the beginning saying that it was just his thigh, and he apologized for being “too close”. Too horny would have sufficed professor, you appreciate the truth. But you knew better now, if you could go back to that moment you’d ask, ‘Sir why did you get so flustered that one time you accidentally nudged me’.
Week one y/n was different from week fourteen y/n. Now you have changed, adjusted to the nerve wrecking institute that was college. The time you were given to mix and mingle with your peers. The time you adjusted to your body, learned things about it that you never believed it could do.
You’ve been with countless other bodies and this was your final, you wanted this to be that one step that would throw you over the edge. That final obstacle you'd have overcome to really make you become a woman. You couldn’t help yourself. He had that effect on you, and his inability to keep things professional, though the poor guy tried his hardest, made your young body curious.
“Hey professor, I just need to go to the bathroom real quick.” you got up and placed the pen down. “You don’t have to tell me that, you’re a big girl.” he laughed and continued on with his last pile of essays. Frantically you made your way out of the room, keen on some fresh air.
Oddly enough you felt nervous, the time you spent in his classroom making you uneasy, scared and unaware. You thought for a moment that you were so stupid trying to seduce your teacher, ready to hit the brakes on the plan that you had been in motion for weeks.
You felt childish, felt like you hadn’t tried hard enough to learn about what you could do to please a man, Would your nights out with men suffice Levi? Would it be enough? Would he be able to see how much time and commitment you put into learning the male anatomy just for him. Or would you fuck up and end up embarassing yourself, or worse be completely wrong about the “situationship” you thought you two were in.
This was terrible you thought, nerves getting the better of you.
But you took a deep breath and walked to the bathroom. The worst he could do was reject you and that in itself scared you more than anything in the world, rejection — simply ‘no’. A “no” wouldn’t suffice you though, you couldn’t take that embarrassment, that misjudgment, so you prayed that this was what he wanted.
Yet, while you went off on your escapade to the bathroom, Levi finally took his first breath of fresh air. You were an intoxicating little thing. Your smell lingering in the room, the little rhythm you started with your marker snuck it’s way deep into his brain, and in his peripheral he could still see your outline. The glare of the sun off the rim of his glasses offered him that bit of peace, your body stuck in his eyes.
The poor professor would be too embarrassed if you had caught him staring you down, and that of him licking his own chapped lips ashamed of their dryness if he'd been granted the pleasure to kiss yours. He was aware of your lips, coincidentally he touched them once, to be enthralled in such a moment again. A moment so perfect that he found his thumb grazing your soft lips when you made the mistake of praising him too strongly for being such a good professor.
Yeah you were a pretty girl; pretty lips, body and face to match. But he always caught himself focusing on your lips. How they managed to look so soft at all times and how full they looked.The way any pigmentation glided over them you were tantalizing.
Eyes dark and thumb almost trespassing into the depths of your mouth but he stopped himself before things got too far. But he wasn’t aware that you didn’t mind, you fucking liked it for that matter. Though you still freaked out after you left the room. Heart fluttering and legs wobbling as you walked back to your dorm. That occurred two weeks ago to be precise, the first time he tripped up — the first time he thought he tripped up.
Sadly he doesn’t know better, you were both naive. Him naive to your new found ability to read men, and you naive to how badly he really wanted you. How could two entirely different people have the same intentions in the end.
You finally got to the bathroom after pointless pacing in the halls, it was pointless because you knew you were gonna go through with it. In that head of yours you wanted to find every reason not to go through with it, but you couldn’t pin down a single logical reason. Of course you were a student and he was a teacher, but nobody had to know.
In the bathroom you splashed some water on your face, waking up that decisive plan that you tried to repress into the depth of your brain. But that was impossible. It had been on your mind nearly every day since you conjured it up and it wouldn’t leave it ever. Hell after you’d be finished it would form into a new memory of completion, traversing through your brain and implanting itself into your long-term memory.
The plan was on, ready for operation. Execution mattered and you would do so to your fullest ability. It was an extremely easy plan based entirely on your level of seduction you could exhibit and how far you were willing to go. Nobody was in the building you were sure of, so you stood proudly in front of the mirror.
You’d make a few adjustments to your outfit and look, the whole idea was to get him to fold. Rid him of that tough teacher facade that he put up. So first you’d rid yourself of your panties, pulling the soft fabric down your legs and discarding them in the trash can. You were already wet thinking of what Ackerman could do to you — well more so what you could do for him.
Sitting at such close proximity, a different angle to dissect him at. You were too curious for your own good, unable to stop that throbbing you felt in between your legs every time you sneaked a peek at him: hair, build and attitude. Drawing your delicate soul in, for all you knew he won you over.
You pulled up your socks a little bit higher over your thighs, playing that school girl role all too well, the thickness of them bulging at the top of the socks. Then on to your skirt that you adjusted around your hips, pulling them up just a bit higher so that any sudden movement to bend down would give the person behind you a pretty view.
And now your top, you propped your boobs up a bit more. Let them rest in your shirt as nicely as possible, the low neck of your shirt playing its role perfectly. Lastly it was time for your hair and lips, nothing too crazy, just neatening up your hair and reapplying the nude shade that you had chosen for the day.
“Okay, he’ll like this right?” that last question you asked before leaving the bathroom. Now there was no time to play any longer, you were in this forsaken classroom again. Peering into the small window, that was scratched and blurred from years of use. Turning the knob slowly you entered the room again and there he was still grading the last of the papers.
He broke his neck to look up at you coming back in. He smiled at your return, but only after you caught him staring at your body when you locked the door. “I began to think that you had left Y/n.” he chuckled. Covering his face with his hand, trying to hide his panicked expression.
Did you have plans after this he thought, did you come back to say your goodbye and get on with your weekend? Who would be the lucky man fucking you tonight? God he was so fucking ready for you to say that it was him, but that was absurd.
“Now why would I leave sir?” Now at his desk, door locked and eyes as well. “We still have papers to grade but it seems as if you’re done with your pile.” You sat down next to him. Crossing your legs one over the other, that feeling of slick driving you crazy. “You’re right, you’re right I’m just far too tired to think right now.”
Poor guy, but he wasn’t too tired to stare you down. Fluidly, from your face to body, his eyes wandered in a pattern. “I could finish your papers if you don’t mind,” he began to reach over to your pile on the desk, but you quickly stopped him. “It’s okay,” you held his hands placing it on his thigh, “there’s only two left.”
Your eyes blinked too quickly when you saw the bulge in pants, lashes fluttering undoubtedly fast, but you fixed your composure. Quickly you removed your hand, and twirled in your seat to finish grading the papers. That smirk that dressed your face and the hint of blush that complimented his fair skin. The first step towards progress.
The gratification that you could turn a man on, without even trying too hard because he was that awe struck by you. Little ole you getting THE professor Ackerman all riled up, it was rewarding.
“Y-yeah you’re right, only two.” he chuckled awkwardly, but still managed to look at you. If there was one thing he could do it was maintain eye contact even in the most awkward of positions he was in.
Now to start your little plan, as soon as you put the last marking on the essay before you, you placed the cap back on the marker. The sign to mark your finish and the activation of your plan.
“Professor, I'm finished.” you smiled, handing him the marker and watching as he put it back neatly into his desk drawer. “Thank you so much for your help y/n.” He got up stretching his arms high over his head. His dress shirt rising up just about an inch or so, his stomach too toned for that of a professor’s.
“You’re welcome sir.” you stayed put, heart doing jumping jacks in your chest. You were nervous, hands clammy and bodily functions slowly shutting down. If you didn’t make a move your nerves would have bested you and you’d be running out of his room. And he could sense that slight shift in your body language.
“You okay y/n, did you need anything?” He looked down at you as he packed up his briefcase, and began to take his glasses off. “Um yes actually I need you to check something for me.” you shook your head, and your hands and sat up to lean against his desk. Reaching out you held onto his wrist and guided it up under your skirt.
That facial expression would be one to go into the books, the look of surprise when you dripped onto his hands. How he tensed up when you fixed his middle finger to run through your folds. “It’s been like this all evening, can you help me sir?” His next sentence was caught in his throat, he was frozen in his spot.
You slowly rubbed his fingers through you, the pad of his middle finger bumping against your clit making you shiver. “W-wait a minute,” he finally muttered, “we… we shouldn’t be doing this.”
The good professor is trying to put morality over pleasure. Pleasure that he so desperately craved, jacking himself off to you in the wee hours of the night. And now, feeling your pussy with his own hands — he never thought that he’d see the day. You dripping for him, making him wonder if there was really a mutual effect between the two of you.
“Why not sir?” You scooted back on his desk, spreading your legs a little wider. Your juices now filthying up his once tidy desk.
He was shocked. No underwear? So as he stared down he saw your bare pussy. How the sheer amount of juices was enough to reflect the setting sun back and glisten before him.”It’s just wrong,” he began, voice shaky and hands encased in your warm juices, “I'm an adult having relations with my student.”
“T-th-this, whatever THIS is, is just wrong.” he tried to reason, but it was a joke. Because the growing bulge in his pants thought otherwise. “I think you’re just saying that sir.” Your eyes now shifted, no longer on his face. Reaching out to him, placing your palm over his bulge, palming him thoroughly. When you pushed down on him, it’s like his dick pushed right back.
“Because I don’t think, this thinks it’s wrong.” you rubbed him slowly. Using your fingers to feel his outline against his pants. He was thick for sure, and had good length to accompany it. “It’s wrong y/n.” he voice that of a whisper. His dick straining hard against your hand.
With your other you brought it to his cheek, slowly bringing his face closer to your own. “And why is that professor?” This was a genuine question of yours, you were invested in what answer he would give you. You didn’t want to hear that bullshit about age, or about how this was just against the school ethics, fuck all that because the poor professor failed miserably.
“It, it just is...THIS is wrong.” He babbled on, there was no point. There was no nerve in your body that wanted to hear those words again.”If you can’t give me a reason besides our relationship then I don’t see why we can’t.” you smiled at him. Fingers squeezing just a bit tighter around his clothed dick, and that groan that came out had you weak.
“Cat got your tongue sir?” Obviously, but he took matters into his own hands, literally. His wrist moving on its own, fingers moving back and forth through your fold and slipping in and out on his own accord. You succeeded in making him realize that his bullshit excuses were what they were, bullshit.
He failed in trying to be the bigger person, the adult he hoped. But his insecurities made you prevail above him. His lust for you, the need to have you proved to be downfall for all the right reasons. What he tried so hard to fight against came to nip him in the ass, but the way you saw it, it was purely for the good of you both.
“See, i-it’s not wrong sir…” you sighed, feeling his fingers flex in you slowly, gauging just how fast he could put them in. “It feels really good sir.” you hung your head back, hearing his breath harshen and feeling the way his body grew hotter. “Promise me,” he began voice low and rumbling in his throat, “don’t do this for anyone else.”
“I’ll try my best,” you fixed yourself on your desk and wrapped your legs around his waist, “you’ll just have to show me that you really want me.” You whispered. Now rotating your hips around his fingers. He drank in your appearance, he had envisioned so many scenarios with you, and this was much better than what he imagined.
He unwrapped one of your legs from around his waist and propped it up on the desk so that your foot was up on it as well. A test of your flexibility so he could finger fuck you to his best ability. It was weird at first being under his gaze watching him examine you as if you were new to him. Something that he had to adjust himself to you, like a kid opening a brand new toy.
He twisted his wrist so that his palm was covering your pussy. Pumping his hand slowly against you, slipping his middle and ring finger back into you, the further they made their way in the more you spread your legs. They felt as good as you had hoped they would, reaching into you further than you could. His fingers were far more skilled than the others you have experienced.
That’s what came with age and a man like him. All the women that threw themselves at him gave him the practice he needed. He was ready to disrupt your body, let you know what it was really like if you’d let him. To make you drawn to him for as long as possible.
“Faster please,” you grabbed his hand and moved his wrist for him, “ ‘m your fingers feel so good in m e.” you whined. He held back though too scared about what he wanted to do, or how he wanted to act. But he fingered you how you wanted, fingers pulling every ounce of arousal out of you.
You were soft and hot inside, walls pulsing around him and sucking his digits in. Such a dirty little girl he thought, if you only showed him this side of you earlier, only gave him the chance to be your first, but this would suffice his dirty mind. This professor is a filthy man wanting to make you so impure , make you his little thing.
To fuck you whenever he wanted, cum in you as many times as he pleased. He needed that because the professor was a needy man with many secrets, but you reciprocated those feelings to a certain extent. So it had to be a match made by God himself, him giving you both the vision to see this relationship working out.
“This is so beautiful.” he chuckled, face red and eyes trained on your pussy, “It’s like it’s been waiting just for me.” He pushed his fingers in, curling them forward and hitting that spot. Each finger thrust was concentrated perfectly on that spot, pushing up on your tummy and making your mind go blank.
Every thrust had your face contorting in pleasure, vision becoming spotty and that white hot pleasure searing it’s way in between your legs. He had skilled fingers, could make you cum instantly if he wanted too, but no — that would make this time go quicker. You cumming for him had to be earned.
When his fingers were fully drenched he pulled them out and squeezed your clit between them, causing you to jerk on the desk. It was sensitive, you were sensitive to his touch, but you yearned for more of it, prompting him to squeeze it again. Run his fingers up between your folds and circling your clit with the pad of his thumb.
Your expression was killing him, the pure innocence of you — what he thought he knew of you getting this vulnerable in front of him. He undressed you with your eyes, skin and body to go with it. He was folding way more than usual, wanted you to cum all over him, didn’t care if he couldn’t stick his dick in you to make it happen.
“ Levi …,” you caught yourself slapping a hand over your mouth. Maybe it was right of you because his widened eyes staring into yours threw you into a discourse. “Fuck — oh god — I didn’t mean to sir.” You blurted out, embarrassed. Did you get too comfortable too quickly? How would he react — fuck you didn’t mean to it was just in the heat of the moment.
“Say my name again love,” he smiled, “ want you to say it when I make you cum.” It surprised you to say the least. He’s heard his name before being mixed in with senseless profanities as he brought woman over the edge countless times, but with you — with you things were different though.
It made him harder than he could bear, it tore down that shitty barrier between teacher and student. Finally it brought you to his level that the first name basis now applied to you both. He was ready to fuck you up, scissoring you with his fingers hearing the pure sound of your juices dribbling out of you. Drip after drip, your pussy melted for him.
“Come on say it.” he urged you, pulling his fingers out of you. Watching your face fill with anguish. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, you had to maintain the upper hand. Make him need you, have him itching for you, but you’d play along. String him into thinking you were a little slut.
“Levi — please, oh god — Levi please put them back in.” He liked that, face red and breath barely making its way out of his body in ragged time. “You're almost there.” he stammered. He felt it, a feeling he was accustomed to. How you clenched around his digits, your whiny moans that he drank in, you looked like you were in heat.
His knuckles were white from gripping the desk. Everything hurt him, his dick hurt to the point where he’d thought he’d die if you didn’t cum — not if he didn’t cum. He pushed himself, knowing he was holding back from cumming when you began to cry out his name cumming over his fingers. How you twitched on his desk, looking helpless eyes and brain clouded with pleasure and the look of lust on his face.
“You look just like how I imagined you would when you cum.” He stated. Thumb rubbing your clit as you rode out your orgasm. “I would love to have that on camera.” he chuckled, pressing harsher onto your clit. A camera, how… unusual you thought, that’s the first time anybody said anything like that to you.
But you’d play along, reaching down between the both of you, spreading your folds and motioning your eyes down. “Want this pretty pussy on camera?” your voice fluctuated, “wanna see this when you jerk off to me at home?” You bet he did, hell maybe he already did. He palmed himself, eyes dark and body tense.
He couldn’t waste time any longer, licking his lips and pulling you to the edge of the desk, spreading your legs across the width and clamping his hands around your waist. His only thought in mind was to cum, the professor was tired of getting edged, he was tired of not feeling you. Body too hot and stimulated.
So he pressed his fingers into your plump waist and began grinding his dick into your heat. Not caring that you just came, didn’t care about how you moaned out, your nails etched into his back. Didn’t care that you were still sensitive from how hard he made you cum cause it was his turn. His turn to show you that your plan worked, you seduced him — got him going senile just to chase a fucking release.
Poor Levi was so impatient, rutting his boner into your wet pussy. You wouldn’t let him put it in; he'd just have to appreciate this. You soaking the front off his pants as he pushed himself into you. With you pulled to the edge of his desk it made it easier for him, legs spread across the width of the desk. You rocking your hips back and forth, both of you acting forces towards the other's orgasms.
His hands were on your ass, scooping you forward, so he could push into you more. Bringing your pussy towards his dick, grinding nastily against him like a dirty little girl. “Wanna put it in here y/n.” He whined, just a tad bit and you melted, thumb coming around to push on your clit. Pussy fluttering and clenching after your last orgasm with another soon to come. “You’re being a naughty girl by not letting your professor help you out.”
“You are helping me sir.” you moaned into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your boobs bounced against his chest as you held him close and continued moaning into his ear. “Gonna make me cum again from how hard you are.” you whispered into his ear. You knew what you were doing, stirring up something sinister inside him.
From this interaction you’ve learned that he likes being touched, likes being told that something is going well and appreciates when he can make someone feel good. Liked affection when he was really craving it, he was a totally different person behind closed doors, compared to the tough exterior he always put on.
“Oh yeah, this is enough to satisfy your needy hole?” he questioned. “Yes it is sir.” you purred. He nuzzled his face into your neck and gently bit into it, sucking the spot he bit right after. You hissed, feeling his teeth graze over the teeth indentations he left behind. “I wanna kiss you.” he spoke softly. Now looking into your eyes, your soft features and how dazed out you were.
“Should I let you kiss me?” you raised your brow. “Yes I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” He was honest with his feelings. It was so cute, seeing a man of his stature be so honest with himself. Though a few moments ago he fought desperately to not be in this situation.
“You deserve it.” you smirked against his skin. He tried to initiate the kiss first but you moved your head back. Eyebrows furrowed, he sucked his teeth and tried to peck your lips again.
When he got frustrated you kissed him. Kiss after kiss, and he was right, your lips were so soft. They were beautiful and felt perfect against his own, he’d become addicted to that saccharin taste that they emitted. This was the moment that sent him over the edge, tasting your sweet lips against his own.
“You’re so sensitive Levi, I can feel you twitching through your pants.” you chuckled, pulling away from the kiss, a thin line of saliva between you both.. You attached your lips to his once more, sucking softly on his bottom lip and he lost his mind even more.
He was fucking himself agasint you harder now, fingers holding a vice grip around the edge of his desk. Head low and snuggled in your neck as he chased his release. “Are you about to cum?” You asked him. That deep groan a sure sign that he was.
“Come on, let it all out.” you urged him on, bringing your arms around his neck one last time. Letting him inhale your scent to send him over the edge. He was so ready, hips against your body as far as they could go. His pants were already so wet, and the feeling of tour juices soaking through not only them but his underwear as well drove him up a wall. He needed to cum.
You were so sure of him getting to cum that you didn’t even register your own. You were living for this, the thrill of it all. Gasping trying to catch your breath when his dick nudged against your clit.
“Levi, I’m cumming.” When you began to spasm he pushed in harder, as hard as he could. Feeling you gush out again. Not once but twice did he make you cum. God he was going insane, head spinning, teeth grinding down harshly in his mouth.
His dick ached to cum to you and not only to your mirage but the real thing. This close and personal, he didn’t want this moment to end but he didn’t know if this chance would happen again. But maybe next time he'd actually get to stuff you full with his thick cock and cum.
“I’m gonna cum y/n…” he nearly cried out, “ gonna make me cum in pants.” His voice was strained. “That’s what happens when you’re naughty sir.” you ran your hands down his back, and let them run under his shirt. “Getting off to your student.”
“ How fucking nasty Levi. ”
And that pinged something in his head, hips snapping forward one last time. One low groan emitted from his throat when he came, like he’d been holding it in for forever. Fuck he was gone, pushing his clothed dick into your pussy as hard as possible - as far as it could go. You could feel him cumming, his dick twitching pathetically in his pants.
It was hot, it was so hot and it caught you by surprise, how much he let out. He was gone, stomach jerking and head going limp as he shot his seed into his pants. His breath was shaky and it felt like he couldn’t stop cumming, dick throbbing trying to jump out with nothing more to give.
“ Fuck , you made such a mess Levi,” You wiped the spit from your lip and hopped off his desk. Almost immediately losing your balance, there was no feeling in your legs nor knees. But you ogled at his pants, the front a complete and utter mess. You dropped to your knees, not even thinking. Dragging your fingers along his wait band and pulling down both his underwear and his pants.
What a sight it was to see the thick seed of your professor dirtying up his boxers. Pretty body all nasty. Good professor finally realized that this, yeah this relationship was destined to happen. He was the reason, he primed this. Set this hell in reality, this “forbidden” relationship came to be because of him. His actions were sloppy and indiscreet. Maybe he foiled his own sick plan, hatched on that special day.
When you pulled them down you didn’t have any thoughts, just put it in. Clean him up like a good student so you did just that. Opening your mouth wide and licking up his seed. Slurping up all he offered. He was surprised when he looked down, your lips covered in his cum. Some of it runs out the side of your mouth and down onto your chin.
Was he sick for liking it? For wanting to grab your head and stuff his cock down your throat. It was enough to get him inside, your mouth sufficed. Liked how cleaned him up, not leaving any cum behind. Choking on it, taking two to three times to make sure you swallowed everything down cause he came just that much.
If you’d let him put it in you he’d breed you, balls still tingling and hot flooding with cum for the next time. Cum that’d trap you, make you his own. If of course you granted him with a next time, because he needed that next time. This new thrilling excitement, you had consumed his sanity. You gave him that closure that it was okay to tread upon you, the waters weren’t shaky anymore.
This was right, the relationship was okay — you guys would be good right? The start of something fresh and new, hopefully. “Y-y/n that’s good.” he stuttered, hips rocking slowly forward, lodging his dick in your mouth. If you kept cleaning and sucking he’d be shooting blanks. “What a shame.” you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, licking up whatever remained.
“You liked that?” You asked, staring up at the man. His eyes were red, and had that glossy look to them. All he managed was a nod, still jerking, but he was relaxing himself. Just staring at you like he needed more, after that – after what you managed to do. He threw himself into his chair just awestruck, heart racing, but fuck was he so happy.
Images of what just occurred between the two of you were replaying in his mind, thinking of how you moaned his name, how you came for him. You were just that fucking good, and in all his life he wondered where had you been? But now?
After that you had to be his right? You’d never go and do that with anybody else, you were his, he was yours. Seeing you act like that all slutty for her little ole professor. He had you right where he wanted you, primed you, got you to act on straight lust and curiosity. You stupid little thing, how could you?