I'm in my office, and it's 45 minutes before class, and I'm horny as hell. I've been playing with my cock on and off, thinking of how very nice it would be to have a nice young honey here to bend over my desk and play with. Finally, you knock on the door, wearing a very short skirt and a button-down blouse. You notice the bulge in my pants and flash a wicked smile. I smile back and take you in my arms, pressing your young body against me, and kiss you passionately.
This is not be the first time... A few weeks before, you walked into the first day of my class eager to add in to what you'd heard was a demanding but very worthwhile course. You knew the class was full, so you wore a pair of tight, low-riding jeans and a snug t-shirt that showed off your body just perfectly. What man wouldn't want you in his class, even if it meant an extra paper to grade? Especially if you came to class dressed like that every day. You listened attentively on that first day, making sure to flash me your pretty eyes, to let the top of your full breasts show through, and to let your hair dangle down in just that way that you know makes you irresistible. You notice me noticing you, and watch as I make it a point not to stare.
You hadn't heard that I was cute as well as a good teacher, and your mind drifts as you admire my package through my linen slacks. Class ends, you approach me, and I can't help but grin as you walk up to the front of the class. I take care of the other students first, saving the best for last. As the final stragglers file out of the room, you hand me the form I must sign for you to add into the class, making eye contact and grinning all the while. I return your gaze, and hold it longer than I know I should with a student. I grin back, and sign the form, wordlessly. You mutter a soft "thanks" as you take it from me, making sure that your fingers touch my own. You turn and saunter out, gazing over your shoulder as you walk through the door, just catching a glimpse of me, leering at your shapely ass.
Now, it's weeks later and we cannot get enough of each other. We both know how horribly wrong it is. What would my wife do if she found out? What would happen to me if my colleagues discovered our affair? Every week in class, I struggle not to teach to you alone. I try not to think of you so I won't humiliate myself by getting hard right there, in front of everyone. You try to focus. You need the class for your major. You need to hear what I'm saying, take it down, think, respond. But your mind keeps wandering to what you know will happen that afternoon, well after class is over, in that hotel room on the edge of town that we've turned into our private world, that world where we've broken every rule, violated every taboo. You feel your pussy starting to dampen as my lecture becomes a distant echo, as you hear in my words the soft deep resonance that my public voice shares with my orgasmic moans.