The Professor's Indifference

Professor Z had been gone for a week.

I'd heard rumors that his sister's condition had worsened and she needed more emotional support than usual. Perhaps that was the case but more than likely he's avoided me because we fucked.

Class was just not the same. Our TA may as well have canceled the class because she wasn't teaching us anything new. I yawned, exhausted from a double shift the day before, and struggled to keep my eyes open. After class, I inquired about Professor Z's return but the TA claimed that he'd been around the past three days. He was in school? Then why the hell wasn't he teaching? I wasn't naïve - I knew our actions could jeopardize his job but he never seemed that invested in this job, anyway. To be fair, I needed to be careful, too. I needed his class to graduate and nothing was going to keep me here a second longer.

Lost in thought, I almost missed the figure scurrying past me towards the only elevator that accessed Professor Z's floor. The girl looked familiar: wavy blonde hair, a short yellow summer dress, and black cowboy boots. Intrigued by her style, I followed at a distance hoping something would jog my memory.

The girl in the yellow dress waited by the elevator, glancing around like a guilty person worried she might be caught. Recognition still elusive, I waited for something, anything, to pull her name from the recesses of my mind. I hated awkward meetings where the other person expects me to recall their name or some random detail about them that they told me during a five-minute chat.

As the elevator bell chimed, recognition struck. My mind protested but there was no mistaking her -- that was definitely Mary-Ellen. Drab, boring, Mary-Ellen actually had style? Who the fuck taught her how to use a curling iron? Why did she wear sweaters in the summer if she could pull off dresses so beautifully? And her makeup! Fresh-faced and minimal, her plum-colored lips, appearing as though stained by a just bitten fruit?

Where the hell was she going in this getup?

As I watched her enter the elevator, I debated trailing her. Free time in the mornings was such a precious commodity especially when errands piled high. However, I was curious. Picking up my phone, I dialed my local flower shop to reschedule my pick up. Grandma's flowers could wait; she most definitely had more than a day left to live. Once I completed the call, I headed towards the elevator to find out what Mary-Ellen was up to.

Reaching his floor, I made my way to the end of the hallway. His office was secluded from the rest, with only three offices on his floor. One professor was absent on sabbatical and the other taught evening classes, so it was rare for the professors to cross paths. As I approached his door, I heard a whimper.

The door was slightly ajar, the slit big enough to see inside the room. Peeking in, I froze at what I saw.

Mary-Ellen was bent over a desk, her soft, round bottom exposed to the office air. Professor Z knelt behind her, lapping at her clit, slowly, as if he wanted to savor it. As if he enjoyed it. Mary-Ellen gently pushed back against his tongue, her face flushed from what I assumed was intense pleasure. Suddenly, the passive Professor I'd always known stood up and turned her to face him, saying loud enough for me to hear, "I want to fuck you, Mary-Ellen."

Gasping quietly at the betrayal, I felt myself slick as my juices began to flow. Why would he want her? Why would he say those words to her but not me? The unfulfilled ache from the entire week of not seeing him awakened, the core of my pleasure throbbing painfully. As if having a mind of its own, my right hand slowly rolled up my skirt, my blush pink almond nails caressing my soft skin along the way.

Mary-Ellen now sat on the desk, her knees bent towards her, as she softly opened her legs to him. She wore no underwear as if she came prepared for this. Was this her first time with him or had they been fucking all along?

Her slit appeared pink and wet, the perfect ground to take him. Unbuckling his belt, he brought out his cock. It was exceptionally hard and leaking, as though he couldn't wait to sink in. With the tip he petted her, going up and down gently, slowly penetrating her and pulling out. She begged him to stop her torture but he wouldn't. Unsurprisingly, she came fast and hard from the onslaught, her pussy lips quivering as her juices flowed out. She scratched his shirt then, asking him to fill her up, but he wouldn't.

His voice rang out then, jolting me, "Aerien, come here."

Startling, I adjusted my clothes quickly. He knew I was here? Was I the reason he was so hard? Perhaps he knew I'd been watching? Perhaps he'd planned this entire thing with Mary-Ellen. She'd get my attention, make sure I followed her, and of course walked in on them. He was cold enough to do that, to humiliate me for his entertainment but swear he felt nothing.

I walked in, embarrassed to face Mary-Ellen. She appeared shocked by my presence, immediately trying to cover up but Professor Z stilled her hand. Was that part of their game? Why did she look surprised when this was surely all done to bring me here?

Now a little unsure of myself, I moved to the corner, folding my hands over myself as shame began to creep in.

"Did you want something?" he asked, too innocently for my comfort.

How could I be so angry yet so aroused by seeing him work someone else up. And how was I to tell him that I was the only one who should matter. Mary-Ellen might know how to make him smile but I was the one who deserved all of him, his attention, his desires, his cum.

"I'm the one you want, not Mary-Ellen," I whispered.

"Speak up, I can't hear you."

I moved closer to him, angry that he would dare declare his intentions to another person. Was she the reason he brought spare trousers to work? She couldn't be. Professor Z wanted me. He thought about me at home, in bed as he spilled on his sheets. I walk up to him, my need boiling after witnessing him lick someone else's cunt.

Pushing him until he backed into the only loveseat in his office, I knelt over him. My short leather skirt was easy enough to pull up, freeing my panties. I lowered myself, rocking my panty-clad cunt over his trousers, tracing his length, gasping as his outline hit my core. I whispered, anger and desperation pulling tears from me, "How could you want someone else when all you think about is me?"

I ignored whatever Mary-Ellen was doing in the corner. This was between me and Professor Z. He watched me, his deep yet soulless gaze betraying nothing. Completely incensed at his silence, my need spiraled. I fucked his trousers, the friction spurring me on. I was on edge and so close but instead of letting me cum, he took out his hot cock and just like he did with Mary-Ellen, stroked me slowly, inserting just his tip inside me over and over again until I came on a gasp. But just like the last time, that was just the beginning.

Holding him, I lowered myself, taking all his length in me. We sighed in unison, his hands grabbing my bum, fucking me slowly at first and then speeding up like an animal.

I said between pants, "Tell me it's me you wanted and Mary-Ellen was just filling in."

Tears flowed freely now as I desperately wanted to hear those words but he wouldn't give them to me. He kissed my neck, tracing his fingers over my lips. This time, he brought my face down for a kiss. It was slow, heavy, and filled with desire. Looking up, I watched as Mary-Ellen, crouched on all fours, fucked her fingers to match our rhythm. She looked frustrated but eager for relief. I never thought I'd see her this way.

Squeezing my dress tight, he brought my attention back to him. I could barely see him through glazed eyes as I chased towards my own relief. I didn't know my shirt was unbuttoned until I felt a suck that zinged straight to my core. He sucked me softly, my right breast first and my left second, licking around my nipples like he worshiped them. Suddenly he whispered in my ears, "She could never be you."

As if both his denial and praise controlled my entire being, I came hard on a drawn out groan. And to my surprise, he joined me, warming my insides with his seed. In the corner, Mary-Ellen's loud gasp announced her own orgasm, most likely at his painful words of rejection. Maybe we weren't so different, after all. As he plopped out of me, the mixture of our pleasure poured out onto the seat between us. I wasn't on birth control, so I knew I'd definitely be taking plan B once I left his office. But for now, I recklessly needed more. He made me sick with want.

Because of him, I finally understood the meaning and dangers of addiction.