The Webcam Girl

Professor Richardson had always been a man of control. He taught English literature at a university level. In the classroom he was a firm but fair teacher, his stern demeanour hiding a passionate love for his subject. He was by most accounts quite a boring man. He was always meticulously well organized: his desk was topped with neatly arranged papers and pens lined up with military precision. He spent most of his time surrounded by dusty books and yellowed manuscripts. But in the privacy of his office, with the door locked and the blinds drawn, that's when he finally got to unwind from his work. He liked to spend his free time browsing various different cam-girl sites. It had become a frequent habit for him. He loved the voyeuristic nature of it: watching beautiful girls getting off from behind the safety of his computer screen. He could get them to perform absolutely any filthy act he wanted to see. They liked having eyes on them and they were there for his pleasure. This gave him a sense of power and control.

He'd start his usual ritual. The click of the mouse opening the website, the computer fans humming softly against his ears as he decided which girl to watch. He'd scroll through the endless sea of profiles, looking for one that caught his interest. His cursor hovered over a profile he hadn't seen before. He clicked through and watched as his screen was filled with a nice pair of breasts bouncing up and down in a mesmerizing rhythm. Pink areolae peeked out from the edges of lacy lingerie as a pretty voice giggled behind the screen.

His eyes glazed over as he watched her, his hand moving almost of its own accord to his zipper. The pretty girl on the screen bit her bottom lip, her teeth sinking into the plump flesh, and he couldn't help but imagine the feeling of that mouth on his body. His dick twitched in his hand as he began to touch himself.

She adjusted her camera downwards and he could see she was riding a dildo that had been placed strategically within the frame of the shot. She rocked her hips back and forth. The soft ruffling filled the otherwise silent room, mingling with the sound of her drawn out breathy moans.

"oh fuckk, that feels so good-"

His cock stood erect and heavy in his hand. His fist moved up and down with an almost mechanical precision as he watched her. The veins stood out along his forearm as he squeezed and pulled in time with her movements. He closed his eyes as his tip was already beginning to glisten with pre-cum.

The girl on the screen adjusted her camera again revealing more of her body and face. Her eyes were lined with a thick black pencil, the lids coated in a shimmering shadow that made them look like pools of ink. Her lashes were long and thick. Her cheeks were kissed with blush and her lips were cherry red.

He froze, his hand still wrapped firmly around his cock as he stared at the screen. He knew that face, those eye. The familiarity of her gestures suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. His hand had paused mid-stroke as he realized that he was no longer watching just any girl. His eyes widened in horror as he recognised the model moaning on his screen. He was touching himself whilst watching one of his very own students.

She was a girl named Lisa Thompson.

He had never really payed attention to the way she looked before. She was usually very shy and well covered. It was a stark contrast to the slutty girl he was watching fuck herself. Her hair was usually pulled back into a tight bun for class, but it now fell around her shoulders in a wild cascade of chestnut curls which bounced with her movements.

He should've closed the tab right then and there. But he didn't. His eyes were glued to the screen and his hand glued to his cock. It ached against his palms. Begging to be touched and squeezed as he watched her. He couldn't look away as her entire body rose and fell on top of the creaking mattress. Her erotic whines and whimpers begged him to keep going. He felt catatonic sat there with his trousers open and his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He found his hand had resumed stroking almost of its own accord. It hovered gingerly up and down his member as he continued pleasuring himself in time with her movements. He tried to tell himself that it was wrong and he had to stop, but he just couldn't.

The sound of her sweet moans bounced off the leather-bound books that lined his shelves. On the screen, Lisa's eyes were closed in ecstasy, her head thrown back as she bounced enthusiastically on the toy. Her breasts jiggled hypnotically with each movement. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of her. Each rock of her hips sent blood pumping straight to his cock, which was slick in his hand. He conjured up a narrative where she was doing all of this just for him. He imagined her in his classroom, pleading to be fucked harder, just like she was on the screen and he swore under his breath. He longed to replace the wet plastic with his own flesh.

His eyes were fixed to her round, firm ass-cheeks as they clenched and unclenched around the toy. His hand moved faster and faster as he matched her rhythm. His hand tightened around his shaft and her pleading eyes locked onto his through the monitor. He felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. He knew she couldn't see him, but jerking off whilst staring into her eyes felt so personal. it made him feel like it was his dick that was thrusting into her. Making her tits jiggle. His fist was a blur as he mashed it up and down his length as fast as he could. The seat creaked underneath him and his breaths came in short bursts.

Her constant moans and cries of pleasure grew louder and louder in his ears until he was finally driven over the edge.

With a strangled groan, he came, spilling his seed onto the cold, unforgiving desk. He leaned back panting. His hand was sticky with his own cum and the sweat from his skin stuck to his clothes. The reality of the situation washed over him like a cold shower. He had just masturbated to one of his students. He looked back at the screen, where Lisa was still in the throes of her own pleasure, unaware of the orgasm she had just given her professor. With trembling hands, he closed the tab on her moaning and the room fell silent. He stood up from his chair and cleaned himself up, tucking his shirt back into his pants and wiping the beads of sweat from his brow.

He paced the room, his mind racing with what he'd just done. Too manic to sit down, he felt giddy. His stomach was churning with a mix of guilt and arousal. His palms were sweaty. He wasn't sure how he was going to face her in his lectures again. He anxiously imagined the look on her face if she was ever to find out her teacher got off watching her fuck herself. He paused. Strangely, he found himself feeling an odd rush thinking about it. His heart hammered in his chest as he came to terms with the silent power he held over her. He could make her do anything, show anything, the idea of having such a profound, secret influence over one of his students was shamefully, a little thrilling. The thought made him rock hard all over again, and he had to resist the urge to stroke himself back to completion.

He regained his composure and took a deep breath. It was certainly going to be an interesting semester ahead of him.