Warning: Graphic descriptions of sex, physical roughness, verbal degradation, elements of BDSM
This is the first erotic story I have ever written, after reading many. Your comments and feedback would be much desired. This is a real fantasy that I have about a teacher of mine at University. Some of the events described transpired, and some did not. All characters are over 18 years old. Enjoy.
*****
"My name is Don, I'm a senior, I study plant science, and I like to suck dick."
These were the first words I spoke to my PLSC399 class on the first day of school. Because this was the 14th billion time I had to introduce myself to a class of my peers, I wanted an intro that stood out. And, being humiliated turns me on.
It was hard to say if there were more people taking the class "because they had to" or who rode horses— but either way I wasn't impressed.
After the words leave my mouth my eyes dart over to my professor across the room and a jolt of electricity goes down my spine when his eyebrows do the quickest twitch. A tall sturdy chemist with thick white hair and fashion sense men in their 20s don't have, Dr. Hawthorne was a fox, and I wanted him.
It was quiet in the room, and the yarn ball moved cautiously along the remaining row of students.
...
There are very few things that get me going like talking openly about sex and seeing how men react. A man that can talk confidently about sex can get it.
It also amazes me what you can get people to tell you. Every taxi ride I take, I make a point to learn some obscene fact about my driver. When you are outward and speak frankly, people will tell you some personal shit. In fact, yesterday I was heading back from Baltimore and showed the driver some fresh welts on my upper thigh I had received from an older guy who lived on the harbor.
He told me about his experience with golden showers and grabbed my ass on my way out.
Also sitting in the class. A puppy dog boy with big glasses and pretty brown hair who created a 4 foot canvas painting of my face last semester and tried to give it to me. The root of this tribute remains ambiguous but either way, after class he tells me he still has the painting in his room. I make a quick escape and decide I definitely should have not fucked him.
After class, I head to the gym and see a guy from my freshman year chemistry class. Seeing him without a lab-coat is a whole new experience. He is tall well built red-head with a smile to kill. The variety of the irresistible redheads who look like they model foreign underwear.
"Hey, what's good?" He asks me with that fucking smile."
I think about how easily he could bounce me around on top of his dick with those perfectly shaped shoulders.
"Would you mind taking a video of my deadlift?"
I grab his phone like a depraved cinematographer and after some professional quality camera work I type my number in before giving it back. He winks at me and I melt. There's nothing quite like sweat on a hot guy to make you want to want to swap saliva.
...
My profs office hours were 10 to to 11 am the next day and there was 0% chance I wasn't going to show up. The line between skirts and short skirts is a blurry one, and I intended to take advantage of this blur. Since we're in the academic world, it would just have to be a red pleated and plaid one. I smack on some red lipstick on and knock on his office door. Dressing like fruit turns men on.
"Come in."
I step in, already liking following orders from him. When I slip inside his office I set a cup of coffee on his desk and ask about his research as I sip on my own cup. I am most interested in the size of his member and what it's shaped like but I am a strong proponent of intense eye contact.
"I'm really excited for this class Dr. Hawthorne, I want to do really well in my classes this semester, I'll do anything to get it. I'm very dedicated."
"Yeah, Don, it will be a good semester, I have a lot of interesting stuff planned for the class, a tour through the downtown botanical gardens, a fermentation lab, an orchard tour..."
I thought about him grabbing me in between my legs shoving his fingers into me, holding me down with the other hand. His desk is gorgeous, a beautiful sturdy desk, made of dark grained ebony. I was dreaming about him tossing me onto his desk, his peer review files flying everywhere and fucking me until I cried.
I sometimes get very confused when I talk to people because I get distracted thinking about what it would be like to have sex with them.
"Don— ...Don? I have a meeting, in 5 minutes."
I snap out of it.
Walking out, swinging my ass in front of him, I munch onto an apple and think— although he didn't know it, we had our first date.
...
Pigtails with red ribbons usually garner 2 reactions. Because you look like fruit, one is fascination. One is disdain.
Nevertheless, our prof walks in with dark blue slacks. God, his clothes fit so well. His shoulders fill his shirts out so nicely. I just wish they were unbuttoned. He sees me, over his glasses, in the front center seat.
A front row seat to the show. My eyes move from his mouth to the chalkboard to his eyes. His grays are slate gray, magnified by the glasses slightly, and casting a gaze that's icy and almost too cool. I have found it is nicer to rest your eyes on a nice sight. As if plants aren't sexy enough, I get to learn from this hunk.
He's got to know I'm batting my eyelashes at him for 90 minutes straight.
I always take my time leaving, wanting to say goodbye last. His first and last memory of every period for the semester will be me.
I'm working my way into this man's brain as if I already have him. But there's no way to help it.
...
Obviously, the next week's office hours were for alone time with my Postdoctoral sex pistol chemist.
"I was wondering...when is the next time plant micro-bio will be offered?" I bat my eyes at him.
He swivels around in his chair and types onto his keyboard, scanning the course schedule. He looks hot as fuck with those glasses. If it weren't for him I wouldn't believe come-to-bed eyes were a real phenomenon. While he's typing, I slip a thong into the pocket of his briefcase on the floor near me.
"Looks like it's in the spring, usually a Tuesday-Thursday class taught by Anders."
"Perfect, I'll add it."
He swivels back around, "Don, I need to have a serious discussion with you. It was extremely inappropriate and uncalled for...what you said on Monday. You know that's out of line and that kind of language will not be tolerated."
My heart begins to pound against my chest with a powerful thud. Play it cool, it's the only option. Maintain composure, and make it happen.
"Oh," I say, "well,
you asked us to say something we like to do while we're not studying. I didn't know I had to censor myself."
We sit for a second and I wonder if I'm about to get expelled from University and have to work as a telemarketer.
He looks so fucking hot in his suit jacket. I wanna wear it naked.
