I know the thoughts I’m having about him are wrong, and dangerous, and so wildly inappropriate, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but think about what I know he’s got between his legs, and I certainly can’t forget the way he said my name as he stroked it the other night in his office.
And that’s all I can think about as the lecture begins, and he starts to talk. I don’t hear a word he says though, and only one thought is going through my head as I watch him casually lean against the podium in his fitted jeans and tight black t-shirt. A single thought as his deep, powerful voice resonated over the hall, and his his dark, piercing eyes scan over the students before finally landing on me and just burning into me.
I want him.
It’s a thought I’ve never had about anyone before, at least not like this. It’s a need; a wicked, burning desire that I can’t ignore. I’ve of course noticed cute boys before, and of course had thoughts that made me blush and made my body ache in ways I couldn’t ignore.
But this is like nothing I’ve felt.
This is primal, and raw, and nothing that might go away after a quiet, gasping little orgasm in the shower or buried in my pillow.
It’s so wrong, and he’s at least twice my age, not to mention my teacher. But he’s nothing like boys like Ted, or any of the other ones I’ve ever known.
And right then, it clicks. Right then, something falls into place, and suddenly, why I never gave it up to the boys in high school, or the ones here at college all makes sense.
It was’t that I’d been shy or awkward, or gawky, or too busy. Those are all excuses, really, and they suddenly fall way as I sit there lost in my dark, forbidden fantasies about my professor.
It’s because they were boys, and what I want - what I’ve always wanted - is a man.
The idea of some frat jock flopping around and just sticking it in me is obviously a total turn off. The idea of being groped or fumbled with in some drunken night of shady half-memories is not how I want it to be.
But the thought of a man - a man like Liam Martin - taking me and showing me everything gets me hotter than anything. The idea of submitting to him, and letting him slide inside of me for the first time has my panties soaked and my pulse pounding as I sit there in the lecture hall.
He’s talking about Hemingway, but he’s staring right at me. Me in my pleated short skirt that I borrowed from Ally, and the thin scoop-neck sweater that doesn’t quite fit me. He’s staring right at me as that last little piece falls into place in my mind, and I’m instantly and head-swimmingly turned on. I’m still not even hearing the words coming out of his mouth, and instead I’m picturing those lips kissing me, and tasting me in all sorts of places.
There’s a rush of that blooming through me as I feel the urge to play into this game of looking that we’re playing. He’s still lecturing as I slowly uncross my legs, feeling the thrill roar though me as I watch his eyes grow a bit wider, and his words stumble just a little bit as I flash him the quickest, most innocent glimpse of my little white panties. He finds his place and continues, but his eyes flick to mine and burn right into me, and I shiver.
I arch my back in my chair, letting my full, heavy breasts press against the thin material of my sweeter, and I was his eyes flash down over my body again, I uncross and recross my legs again, slower this time.
I’m so turned on, and my pulse is thundering through me as I’m picturing his cock. God he was so big. Again, I’ve got nothing to compare it to, but it’s thrilling to imagine something that big fitting inside someone.
Someone like me.
The bell rings, and the spell is shattered. He clears his throat again and drags his eyes back to the class as he reminds us all about the test next week, before he grabs his notes and storms out of the room.
And part of me pouts to see him leave so fast, but when he turns and gives me one last fiery look from the doorway, I feel a naughty shiver run through me. And then I’m wondering if the reason Professor Martin is exiting so fast is so that he can go to his office to stroke that wonderful cock again. Just the thought of it has my pulse skipping a beat as I squeeze my thighs together and feel the shiver run through me. It’s a thrill, wondering if I’m responsible for that. Part of me wonders if after catching glimpses and peeks of my young body all class, he needed to go stroke his big cock again.
The other part of me wants to find out.
And that’s the part that takes over as I find myself pushing through the rest of the students drifting out of the classroom. It’s the part of me that takes control as I swallow all my self-doubt and my trepidations, and any last hesitations as I climb the stairs to the floor above. And it’s the only part of me that matters as I find myself stepping quietly down the darkened hallway, heading towards the only faculty office with light still creeping out from under the door.
Professor Martin’s office.
Because I’ve already made up my mind, and there’s no going back.
Chapter 9
Liam
I barely make it to my office, barely get behind closed doors before I’m growling and yanking at the buckle to my belt. My cock’s been hard enough to drive nails with the entire lecture, and it’s been that way because of her.
Ellie.
Her, sitting there like fucking original sin; like sweet untouchable temptation sitting front and center for my lecture. The scoop-neck shirt was enough to get my cock throbbing in my pants, but when she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, giving me that little flash of snow-white panty there in the shadows between her legs, it was enough to get my dick hard as diamond.
Part of me wants to think the little flash was on purpose, even if that’s so out of character for sweet little bookworm Ellie Thompson. On purpose or by mistake thought, that little peak of white lace was enough to get me tripping over my words the whole damn lecture. It was enough to get images of that tight little body with those succulent little curves swimming through my head the whole class, to the point where I could barely concentrate on whatever the fuck I was saying.
And it was enough to get me here, ready to jerk my cock like some sort of horny teenager in my office again. Because I know she’s untouchable, but it only makes the hunger for her all the the more voracious.