Unprofessional

Honours year, and the going was tough. Going to uni at hours I didn't know existed, to check up on experiments. Going to uni on weekends, for God's sake. Writing methods, hypotheses, tabling results, hoping against hope that things would go OK - there's no margin for error as an honours student. At the end of the week, there was little I could do other than collapse into my bed and sleep. Drinking, drugs, dancing, sex - all postponed until those occasional long weekends, and I'd decided to completely blow out when the year was finally over - distant prospect though it seemed. Basically, I'd gone from full-time party girl to ultra-serious student, and I was longing to break out in a few months' time.

There was compensation, of course. For one, I seriously enjoyed the work - it was what I'd envisaged myself doing all my life, geeky as that might sound. For another, I was working with my favourite professor, Dr Colin Braden. Dr Braden was the sort of teacher every girl wants - funny, brilliant, easy to talk to, ready to help, and absolutely, achingly gorgeous. You know the kind. You sort of want to do badly in your classes, just for a chance of acting out those porny student-teacher fantasies about extra credits and all that silliness, but then you kinda want to impress him by doing your best too. I was firmly in the second camp, and Dr Braden's frequent encouragement and occasional praise seemed to be all the fuel I needed to keep going. He was a great supervisor - vastly knowledgeable, approachable, and it didn't hurt that he looked a lot like a Calvin Klein underwear model. I was happy. Sure, I'd never really considered making a move on him, or anything like that, but I enjoyed looking, and it didn't hurt anyone.

It was about three quarters of the way through the year when I'd vaguely started realising that Colin's interactions with me were subtly changing. I'd sometimes straighten up from bending over to put a retort stand away, to see him staring thoughtfully at my ass. Or he'd watch the profile of my breasts when I reached up to put something away on a high shelf. The praise was growing less frequent too, although when it was delivered, it seemed unnecessary... and insincere. Perhaps because his eyes wouldn't be on my face, but glued firmly to my cleavage. I didn't really think about it. It was a busy time of year for both of us, and I put it down to stress - either mine, his, or a joint effort. And I'd always been attractive - 36DDs on a naturally slim 5'6" frame, which I tried to keep fit even now; glossy brown hair framing what most people seemed to consider a pretty face - so I honestly didn't think much of a man checking me out. There was too much else to worry about.

One of those things was a certain part of my experiment, where I just couldn't replicate previous results. I'd managed a breakthrough one evening, but everytime I tried again, I'd flubbed it somehow. Finally, choosing superstition over science, I decided to go in again on a Friday evening and see what I could manage. When I got to the labs it was 7:30 and the place was pretty deserted. I saw a night watchman's torch flash occasionally across the grounds down below when I first arrived, but soon even he left to complete his rounds. I was all alone in the building, and I used my time wisely. By 9:00, this part of the experiment was almost finished and going well. I was elated, sure I'd get my results, and that I'd be able to leave by 9:30. Hell, I grinned to myself, I might even go down to the pub for a bit of a celebration. I turned off a vacuum pump and waited for my ears to adjust to the sudden silence, thinking about packing up, when I heard a little *clink* behind me. Turning around, I saw Colin, standing at the door with his hand on the frame, looking like he'd just come in, and as though he'd seen a ghost.

"Hi Colin," I smiled over at him. "What are you here for, so late?"

"Oh, Anita, it's you," he smiled back, seeming to shake himself a little. "I didn't think anyone would be here now, I got a bit startled. I've just come to pick up some reports I have to mark." He nodded his head towards his desk, some metres behind me.

"Cool. I came in to fix up the fifth part of the experiment, it hasn't been working so far. It seems OK now."

"Why this time of night?" he asked, closing the door and walking towards the desk, eyeing my setup curiously.

I blushed a little, shamefaced at my superstitiousness. "Well, the first time I did it was in the evening, 2 weeks ago. I've tried repeating it during the day but it hasn't worked out... so I thought I'd try again tonight."

He laughed lightly. "Luck over logic?"

I grinned too. "Something like it."

He stepped over to examine my equipment. "Well, that looks fine." He leaned down to look closer, and as he did, his black hair brushed against my arm. As he straightened up, he seemed to get about 3 inches closer to me. He looked down at me and smiled. I returned it, secretly hoping he wouldn't hang around to chat for too long. It was 9:10 already and I was looking forward to getting out and having a drink. His smile faded and he began watching me with a peculiar intensity in his piercing hazel eyes. I shifted slightly uncomfortably under his gaze, wondering whether I'd done something wrong with the experiment that he'd noticed. So the next words out of his mouth were a bit of a shock.

"You smell great, Anita."

I stared at him, surprised. "Thanks...?"

"You look really good too." He stepped back a little as though to get a better picture of me, raked his eyes up and down my labcoat-clad body. "Beautiful. Those deep blue eyes, those sexy pouty lips. Your neck is so beautiful. Your breasts... well, I'm sure I don't need to tell you how great those are. And those long, long legs. Too bad you have to keep them covered up all the time." He examined each part of my body as he spoke about them, his eyes hungry.

I kept staring, wondering whether he was joking. "Thanks, Sir," I replied quietly, hoping the honorific would remind him of our relationship. It seemed to do the opposite, as his face suddenly split into a lustful grin and he took a step towards me.

"You know," he growled, his eyes still appraising me, "You're different from all the others. I've been watching you for so long, trying to get you alone."

I backed a step away instinctively and bumped into the wall - the fume cupboard where I'd been working was right next to the windows. My throat felt dry as I replied "Why?"

He laughed, a different laugh to before, lower, slightly cruel, husky. "What do you think?" he demanded, grabbing hold of both my small wrists in one large hand, wrapping his other arm around my waist. "You're a smart girl. Sexy too," he added, leaning down to crush his mouth against mine. I struggled wildly, squirming, twisting to get away from him. I kicked out, hoping to stamp on his feet. Cause him pain. Anything to get away. The door was on the opposite end of the room...

He pressed all the weight of his strong, hard body against me, pinning me to the wall. In my momentary incapacitation he kicked once at my feet, causing me to yelp with pain. I stopped struggling, tears flowing freely from my eyes, wondering what he would do to me. His erection pressed against my stomach, hard and warm even through the layers of clothing separating us. He forcefully kissed me again, cutting my lip a little with his teeth. I couldn't respond for my tears, and I didn't want to, anyway. He licked my cheeks, following the tear tracks, and I hated his touch. He roughly kissed my neck, which in any other circumstance would have aroused me enormously. As fear and sadness mingled in me, I felt the arm around my waist withdraw and take the belt out of my labcoat. I opened my eyes, which I'd screwed shut when he started licking me, and saw him grip the soft belt in his hand. Seconds later, he started pulling apart the metallic press butons of the coat.

Oh hell, I thought, horrified. I'm about to be raped. I moaned in fear. He misinterpreted the noise, looking into my eyes and chuckling. "Enjoying it, are we, slut?" My tears started anew as I shook my head emphatically, and begged him to stop. He slapped me on the face, shutting me up.

"Don't you dare pretend. I know you're a slut. You buy your labcoats one size smaller, don't you? So that they show off this tight little package better? Tell you what, I know at least one person who likes it." He rubbed himself against me lewdly, and laughed. "Yeah, take off this T-shirt now. I want to see those gorgeous tits you have under there." He released my wrists finally; they already felt painful. I hesitated, wondering whether I could hit him now that my hands were free. As though he'd read my face, he warned, "Don't try anything stupid. I locked the door, and by the time you'd get it open, I'd've had you on your knees already. We're all alone in this part of the building. Just make the most of what I'm letting you have."

I looked into his eyes and saw lust and cruelty there. I knew he wasn't joking, that he'd hurt me if I tried anything defensive. I decided I'd rather be just sexually assaulted than physically too, and quickly pulled my shirt off. He leered at my black bra, muttering, "Oh fuck, look at those, I'm gonna fuck those tits later. I knew you wore slutty lingerie. Take off the bra, bitch." I complied, letting my breasts bounce free. He stared at them for a while, and I looked down at them, ashamed. Without ceremony, he grabbed my fat red nipples and twisted them hard, making me squeal in pain. He slapped my firm breasts around until they were pink, and pulled and tugged at my poor nipples, making me gasp and whimper, hoping he'd stop soon.

As he continued though, I was surprised. It was starting to feel good - really good. I've always liked it rough on my breasts - though, I've always agreed to it before - but this didn't really seem to be much different. In fact, I could swear I was starting to get a little aroused. I felt ashamed and disgusted with myself. Surely I didn't enjoy being used?

He suddenly began pulling my nipples towards him hard, indicating that I should follow him. I should have kept up with him so that he wouldn't pull so hard, but there was a part of me which was secretly enjoying this, apparently. He didn't seem to notice any of this in his lust. He sat me on his desk, bending his mouth down to suck and lick at my right breast with surprising tenderness, as rough as before at my left breast. The contrast made me groan with pleasure, though I did my best to make it sound like fear and disgust. He switched sides, renewing my enjoyment. Suddenly he stood up straight, and I involuntarily whimpered with disappointment. He looked down at my face, first in surprise, then with satisfaction. "I knew you would love this. You're just a little whore, aren't you? Get off the desk, slut. Kneel down in front of me."

Obediently I knelt down, knowing what was ahead, and secretly savouring it. I loved giving blowjobs, eating cum, everything. It wasn't a slutty thing - I just enjoyed oral sex with my boyfriends. Though maybe it was a slutty thing. I mean, here I was, looking forward to sucking the cock of a guy who had tried to rape me.

He unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, revealing a huge, thick cock. It had to be at least 9 inches, thick as a fist, with a gorgeous vein running down one side, uncut, smooth. I run my hand up and down it reverentially. He slapped it across my face, dribbling precum across my cheek. I didn't react, hoping he'd do it again, and he did. "Suck it, you little whore." Without warning I promptly engulfed it in my mouth, getting a good 5 inches down there on my first swallow. He jumped slightly and began fucking my face, pushing his hips towards me, as I kept up a steady pressure on his cock. My tongue licked the silky underside of the organ, lavishing it with attention. One of my hands went to his huge balls, cupping and squeezing, while the other went to play with his ass. I stroked it gently, holding it to force his hips further into my mouth until I was sucking on all 9 inches of that baby. I gagged a little as the thick head popped down my throat, which made him groan and force it in even harder. As retaliation I stuck my finger into his asshole, playing with it. He jumped again and pumped even more enthusiastically, calling me his little whore, his bitch, talking about how he'd fuck me. I squeezed his balls and that seemed to be all he needed, roaring and exploding down my throat. I sucked until he pulled out himself, when he suddenly spurted again, covering my neck and breasts in a thick coating of cum. He panted, staring down at me, and then turned around and bent over. "Lick my asshole, cocksucker."

I parted his ass cheeks and reamed at his tight little hole, savouring the taste, feeling like the biggest slut in the world. I snaked one arm underneath him to hold his glorious cock again, which was already regaining its hardness. Finally he sighed and said "Enough. Take those pants off, slut. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be walking all weekend."

Well, what's a girl to do? I smiled archly at him and took my jeans off. My tiny black g-string left nothing to the imagination, exposing my long, smooth legs. It was his turn to kneel down in front of me, as he kissed my thighs, moving inwards, making me moan softly. He pulled the underwear off, exposing my little shaved pussy. He brought the g-string to his nose and sniffed deeply, and grinned. I grinned back, knowing it was sure to be wet. He turned me around and bent me over the desk, slapping my ass a few times, and I bit my lip and groaned. He slapped my pussy now too, making me jump and writhe, whisper gently for him to fuck me, fuck me, please. Instead, he turned me around and sat me on the desk again, and curled his tongue into my pussy, licking my juices, his hands gently pinching and pulling at my labia, causing a steady stream of groans, encouragement and profanity to stream from my mouth. When his tongue started attacking my clit, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I humped at his mouth, trying to get every bit of pleasure that I could from him. Not interrupting his assault on my clit, which was surely poking out now the size of a pencil eraser, he inserted one, two, three fingers into my pussy, finger-fucking me steadily. My pussy was tight and needy after 6 months of enforced celibacy, and I almost wept as he repeatedly bumped against my g-spot. As he carefully tried to insert his little finger into my tight asshole, I howled and came, shuddering, the best orgasm I'd had in months. He licked me throughout my explosions, causing mini-orgasms to follow the main shock. Finally he withdrew his fingers from my vagina with an obscene wet noise, and blew gently on my lips as I calmed down. He looked up at me and grinned triumphantly, his face shining with my juices. I smiled tremulously down at him, knowing what was still to come.

He stood up, stretching his aching legs, and kissed me. I kissed him back ravenously for the first time tonight, tasting myself all over his tongue, his lips, his face. I kissed him until I could no longer taste my own cunt on him, but still couldn't get enough. His hands wandered over my body as our tongues danced together, pulling at my nipples, rubbing his cum into my breasts, squeezing my ass, gently drawing a finger over my clit occasionally. Not to be outdone, I reached out and pulled his shirt off, and grabbed his hard shaft, the skin hot, smooth and tight, sticky with his secretions. I tugged up and down gently a few times, then began guiding it towards my pussy. His eyes grew wide and he broke the kiss to look at me and smile.

"Taking charge, are we, Anita?" he whispered, his thumb tracing slow circles around my clit.

"Damn right I am," I said with a shaky laugh, as his fingers threatened to reduce me to jelly again. I pulled his hand away from between my legs and placed it on my breast, humping my pussy towards his cock. "I'm going to fuck you, you gorgeous bastard. Do you know how long I've wanted you? I'm going to fuck you until you can't stand up straight."

He moaned and took my knees in his hands, spreading them until he had full access, placed the huge head of his cock at the entrance to my pussy. "Oh God. About as long as I've wanted you, I guess, you sexy little bitch. I knew you would be up for this. I just didn't know how to..."

I cut him off by placing my lips on his mouth again, causing his tongue to immediately enter my mouth with a sort of desperate hunger. I didn't want explanations. I didn't care how he'd seduced me. All I wanted now was to fuck him. The tip of his cock at my cunt felt teasing, and I pushed towards it, slowly letting it slip into me, inch by inch. He growled into my mouth, slowly pushing forwards, savouring my tightness, the walls of my pussy clinging to him, swallowing him, covering him in liquid desire. Finaly he was in all the way, pulsing inside me, filling me up. He felt so big inside me that I was sure if I stood up from the desk, he'd easily be able to carry me with just his cock. I laughed softly at the thought, and looked into his eyes. He was staring back at me, a mixture of lust and disbelief on his face. "God, you are so tight; you feel like a virgin. You feel so fucking beautiful. Your cunt is so gorgeous." He was almost salivating as he spoke. I laughed again, and whispered "I am so full of you. It feels amazing." And still, neither of us moved, simply tasting the moment.

Finally his strong arms left my knees, moving towards my ass. He lifted me off him, causing his shaft to leave my pussy with a small pop. I whimpered again, and it was his turn to laugh. I spread my pussy further with my hands, and he thrust himself back into me quickly, making us both gasp. After this there was no looking back. All that mattered in the world was the feel of his hands on my ass, squeezing and kneading, his warm breath on my neck and breasts, his half-closed eyes, and his beautiful thick cock pumping into me, causing me to gasp and moan and cry for him to go harder, go faster. Occasionally his hands left my ass to play with my breasts and my clit, while I reached up to kiss his neck, or play with his nipples. His huge, tight balls slapped against my asshole, sending shockwaves throughout my body. As he increased his tempo I unexpectedly gave a small shriek and came hard, his cock never ceasing its pounding as my walls clamped around him, my body jerking and spasming, my hair coming undone, my nails scratching at his back. He slowed down as I subsided, his touch growing gentle, loving. He placed his hands on my flat stomach, as though he could feel himself in there, moving and pulsing. I smiled weakly at him and said "What are you slowing down for?"

He looked at me incredulously, then gave me a wide grin. "Slut," he responded quietly, shaking his head, immediately speeding up his tempo. I nodded and laughed breathlessly, feeling like I had just run a race and was now being asked to fly in a hot-air balloon. A sense of dreamy unreality stole over me as I watched his cock enter me, pull out, enter me again, pull out, becoming a blur as his pace increased. I clamped down on him, making him groan loudly and ram himself into me harder and harder. His neck was straining and his eyes were screwed up with concentration, and I knew he wasn't far off. I clamped again, and he cried out, thrusting into me as deep as he could go. He exploded, and I felt cum washing against my cervix, bathing the walls of my pussy, mingling with my juices. I held him close as he jerked against me, moaning and whispering words I never heard, his hair damp with sweat, his muscled back taut with effort. As he calmed down he continued to thrust against me very softly, almost as though he was simply doing it because he'd been doing it so long. That, combined with the knowledge that his cum was frothing inside me, mixing with my own desire, made me cum again, but just a little one, like a wave rocking a boat in a lake. He touched my breasts gently, almost worshipfully, and kissed my mouth softly.