I didn't always intend to be face fuck by my professor. The first time I set foot in his office it was honestly for help. The constant emails reminding us that finals were coming up drew me to his office hours seeking guidance and leniency, so I wandered in hoping to get what I wanted. He took his cock out instead and told me that if I wanted to succeed I better get comfortable on my knees.
I graduated that spring and I passed the quarter with a 3.75 GPA, I suppose that tells you just how successful I was. New job, new boyfriend, new possibilities. But 6 months later, I still always ended up on my knees in Professor Shaw's office every Wednesday night at 9:30pm. These blow jobs got me glowing recommendation letters and a new found love of choking on dick. I couldn't just go somewhere else to get my fill, it had to be him for some reason. He'd always filled my mouth perfectly.
Professor Shaw grabbed the back of my head and shoved himself deep with a sigh of relief.
"Your mouth is so warm and wet, sweet girl."
He moaned as his hand gripped a puff of my curls. Professor Shaw tipped my head back and stared into my eyes while he thrust slowly and firmly. My eyes watered and I couldn't stop tears from rolling down my cheeks.
This position was always so intense for me, but this was only the beginning. He got his trademark mischievous smile and I prepared myself for what came next with a few deep gulps of air. My jaw was practically locked, but he stood from the chair he was seated in, dragged me by my hair to a nearby window, and roughly fucked my face to our imaginary audience.
He stared out of the window, my mouth just a tool for his pleasure. My eyes watered and I gagged profusely, but Professor Shaw didn't let up.
Soon his hands clasped behind my head and my nose met the base of his pelvis. I looked up at him and he stood triumphantly over me, his girthy cock oozing precum down my throat while he made small pumps. His mouth was open in a soundless gasp, but his eyes stayed trained out of the window. He always stared out of this window while he fucked my face, sometimes growling softly as he did it. He pulled the length of it out of my mouth and rubbed his slobbery dick down on my face.
"Tongue out, princess."
Professor Shaw's gaze refocused on me momentarily to give direction. Quickly my tongue was on my chin and he rubbed his balls onto it as he jerked himself onto my forehead. I couldn't make out his face, but his body hunched and his knees were bent with pleasure. He was focused on getting every last drop out. When I felt the warmth of his cum leaking out onto my forehead I opened my eyes just in time to see the first massive shot over my lips and nose. Into my eye it went, but I didn't complain. This what a well trained toy was meant for, as he had always put it.
He slumped into the chair opposite me and offered me a towel from a small storage container nearby. I wiped my face, carefully blinking the cum from my eye into the towel until the burn subsided. I sat on my knees between his legs, wearing only my bra and panties in front of him and nuzzled the towel in my lap. Shaw's body quaked softly, his black body hair laying slick against his body as soft beads of sweat slipped down his torso. He looked down at me and reached for my face offering a pet. I leaned in to oblige.
"You've gotten quite good at that. It seems to be the only thing I've taught you that has stuck," He jokingly said.
I looked up at him and beamed a smile in his direction.
"It's truly the only thing I need to know, you weren't wrong about that. Luckily, it can be my secret weapon for emergencies only. I come here to keep my reflexes strong," I said.
I laid my head into his lap, his thighs still wet from saliva and cum. We sat like this for a moment, and when it passed it was time for me to go.
I stood and began putting my top on over my lingerie. He stood behind me and pulled me in close to nuzzle my neck and nibble.
"It's getting late, won't your wife be missing you?" I asked.
He was married after all, most of the staff here were. His wife was an alum and fellow professor, a pretty woman whose picture hung on the wall near the science department offices. She was beautiful, blond and round faced with a soft smile. Surely, she would notice her husband being out so late.
"She goes to bed early, I'm not worried about her. I was thinking of maybe exploring you more than I have. You have a wonderful mouth, I can only imagine what your holes feel and taste like," His voice was playfully lusty, as if coming all over my face wasn't enough.
He kissed me again on the neck while gliding a hand into my panties. My hand stopped him short of my clit, and he retreated out with defeat.
"Not going to happen, Captain. We've had this talk before. I don't fuck married men."
I was bold face lying of course. I had screwed around with my fair share of married men but there was a price and a process for my pleasure, a price that some men almost too happily paid.
I needed their wives to know.
I'm not sure how it started, but I always saw how my friends' parents looked at me once puberty came and went. What was before empty gazes reserved for prattling young children was replaced by a few distinct looks: Lust, disgust with oneself/spouse/or myself, and almost always desire mixed in with both. I relished those stares. I felt like a God when I saw my friends' mothers wither before me. Here I was, perky pretty brown tits, a head full of curls shooting in all directions, an athletic build that can fuck for days; of course they withered, especially when they noticed their husbands noticing. I didn't notice at first but when I did it became the center of every dirty dream. When I fucked my first married man, he took a video for his wife and he made me whimper with joy. I screamed louder knowing she couldn't pleasure him the way I could. I came harder knowing that he hadn't been with someone like me and he knew that I knew.
From that moment on, the wives needed to know and they needed to see. Professor Shaw couldn't risk it, not when his wife works at the same university. I wouldn't allow him to risk it. So I kept my little fetish to myself. That also means I never let him see more than tits and he hadn't so much as felt my pussy through the underwear prior to this moment.
Professor Shaw pushed his soft cock against my ass and whispered in my ear.
"You don't fuck married guys, but you'll drain their balls all over your face if they want it that way. Do you think my wife does that? My wife doesn't care what I do, I'm fine doing whatever I want. You're included in that."
I stood with my back turned to him still and he gripped my hips, bending me into the edge of his desk. He wanted to fuck me so bad, even though his dick was clearly spent. He pressed himself against me and rocked me back and forth against him.
"No, Shaw," I said wearily.
This time he pulled away from me and I turned to face him as he dressed.
