I square my shoulders and knock on your office door. I hear the squeak of a chair and your deep voice call
"Come in. Oh hello! I didn't see you in this week's lecture. Everything alright?"
I shyly slip into your office and shut the door. My eyes roam your body. Taking you all in, the top three buttons undone of your long sleeve shirt, hair all dishevelled like you had been running your hand through it while you graded exams.
"I'm sorry I missed it Professor. I've had to take on more hours at work. I'm a bit behind on the readings now."
You nod thoughtfully, resting your hands on your knees "It happens this time of the year. Everyone gets pretty busy. I can imagine it must be stressful for you, especially with your final thesis due in a few weeks."
I shift my weight onto my foot nervously "I'm on track with my thesis research. I'm just struggling to find time to do the readings and summaries before class."
"Why not listen to the audio on your commute on the train and jot down notes?" He suggests.
I bite my lip and nod appreciatively. Kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner. I look you up and down. Over the last three years we have known each other you've really come to know me. My habits. Likes, dislikes, interests and routines. You always paid attention when I spoke in class and would make yourself available to me if I wanted to chat or ask a question afterwards. I'd say we're even friends. Although the line between professor and student was still firm, for now.
"You look a bit worn out". I say, noticing the dark circles under your eyes.
You chuckle and sigh "Can't be helped. Stressful times for me too with the deadline for my grading due."
We look at each other for a moment and your eyes dart to a nearby cupboard. You open it and pull out a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
"I think we both could use one, don't you?" You ask in a low, careful voice.
I take the glass and you pour me a generous amount. "Couldn't we get in trouble for this, Professor?"
"We could" you wink and then clink your glass against mine. I take a sip and enjoy the burn of the liquid as it slides down my throat. Notes of smoke and honey dance on my taste buds.
I sit on your desk and you pour me another drink. Your eyes appraise my short skirt and black stocking as you knock your glass back.
"I knew you were a rebel." I tease.
"Oh sweetheart you don't know the half of it." You lean back in your chair and sigh, rubbing a sore spot on your neck "I used to be a radical, got myself into all sorts of tight jams with my old buddies back in the day. Now if I sleep the wrong way I hurt my neck"
My fingers twitch and I ache to reach out and touch you. Without thinking I stand behind you and start kneading your shoulders, my hands pressing into sore spots "Right here?" I ask.
The sound of your answering groan sends heat flooding between my thighs. "Yeah there."
I continue kneading and digging into your muscles, working methodically and enjoying the feel of you beneath me. Your hands tighten on the arm rest of your chair.
"Thank you. This is helping."
"My pleasure" I say, my warm breath caressing your ear.
I look over your shoulder and notice the outline of your cock straining against your pants. I dig into a particularly tender knot and you groan loudly. Your hand moving to cover your erection self-consciously.
"Don't." I warn, my breath against your ear. Maybe it's the scotch or maybe it's the heat of the moment but I feel bold enough to get on my knees in front of you.
You say nothing. Too afraid to break the spell but your heart pounds and your cock throbs at the sight of me on my knees before you. Your buckle comes undone too easy, your zip unzips smoothly. A second later your briefs are down and your cock is up. Standing tall, thick and proud. My mouth salivates and I run my fingertips up your shaft lightly. You tense and twitch at my touch. I do it again and you shiver.
"Damn it, woman you will be the death of me." You grit your teeth and moan as I wrap my hand around your cock and pump it up and down, up and down.
"Like that sir?" I ask.
You close your eyes and focus on breathing "Yes sweetheart just like that....call me, call me Issac"
I lick the tip of your cock "Does that feel good, Isaac?"
