I was 21, a senior in his advanced lit seminar, when Professor Hale first made me soak my panties during office hours. He was 38, tall and broad with that salt-and-pepper stubble and hands that looked like they could pin a girl down without trying. I went in to talk about my paper on forbidden desire in classic novels, but the way he stared at my mouth while I spoke told me he wanted something dirtier.
Two weeks later I showed up at his office after everyone else had gone home. I wore a short skirt, no panties, and a tight top that barely covered my tits. He locked the door behind me the second I stepped inside.
"Lock it yourself next time if you're coming in here dressed like that," he said, voice low and rough.
I didn't say a word. I just walked over to his desk, bent over it, and flipped my skirt up so he could see my bare ass and already-wet pussy.
"Fuck," he muttered. I heard his belt open and his zipper drop. His cock slapped against my ass a second later, thick and hot. He rubbed the head up and down my slit, smearing my juices all over himself.
"You've been teasing me for months, you little slut," he growled. "Coming to class without a bra, crossing your legs so I can see up your skirt. This what you wanted?"
"Yes, Professor," I breathed. "Fuck me. Please."
He didn't ease in. He slammed his whole cock into me in one hard thrust. I gasped loud enough that anyone walking by might have heard. He grabbed my hips and started pounding me right there against the desk, the wood creaking with every thrust. His balls slapped my clit on every stroke and I pushed back to take him deeper.
"Goddamn, you're tight," he grunted. "This pussy was made for your professor's cock."
He reached around and rubbed my clit in rough circles while he fucked me harder. My tits bounced out of my top and he grabbed one, pinching the nipple until I whimpered. The wet sounds of his cock slamming into my soaked cunt filled the office.
"Don't stop," I begged. "Use me."
He pulled out, spun me around, and lifted me onto the desk. Papers scattered everywhere. He shoved my legs wide and drove back in, fucking me so deep I could feel him in my stomach. His mouth latched onto my nipple and he sucked hard while he pounded me.
I came first, clenching around his cock and soaking his balls. He kept fucking me through it, telling me what a dirty student I was for letting her professor wreck her cunt. When he was close he pulled out, pushed me to my knees, and shoved his cock down my throat.
"Swallow it," he ordered.
I did. He came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down my throat while I gagged and swallowed every drop. Some spilled out the corners of my mouth and he wiped it up with his thumb, then made me suck it clean.
After that it became a regular thing. Every Thursday after his last class he'd bend me over his desk or fuck me on the floor or make me ride him in his chair while he graded papers. Sometimes he'd make me keep his cum inside me during the next day's lecture, no panties allowed. I'd sit there squirming, feeling it leak down my thighs while he taught, both of us knowing exactly what a filthy little student I was.
He never got caught. I graduated with the best grades of my life and the best orgasms.
