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But the way her eyes darkened as they looked into mine when my hand was on her shoulder. And God, her warmth…
Her hair comes to mind as I once again feel the need to run my fingers through it. Those red tendrils fisted in my hand as I pump into the back of Melody.
Fuck.
I can’t stop myself. I release my cock from my pants and wrap my fist around it, giving my mind the freedom it so desperately desires.
“Dr. Banks,” Ms. Everett whines beneath me as I slide my cock in between her legs, running the tip along her wet pussy.
She’s naked from the waist down.
Her legs tremble against me, and my fingers etch along her porcelain skin. Hunger for her pours from every inch of me.
“Take your shirt off,” I command her, my eyes greedily raking over her body.
She tugs at the white T-shirt, and I fist my cock, not missing a single second as she reveals a bright pink, lace bra. Her small, perky tits are nearly falling out.
I groan as she unclasps it from the front, giving me the full view.
“Do you like what you see?” Her eyes are so full of uncertainty and innocence.
“I do,” I growl, leaning over and sucking an erect nipple into my mouth.
She whimpers, her petite body squirming beneath me.
Her nails dig into the back of my scalp as she holds me against her chest.
“More,” she moans, the lusty rasp nearly causing me to explode. “Please. Take me, Dr. Banks.”
Barely able to contain myself, I press into her pussy, nearly coming undone at how tight she is.
I pump into her, but I won’t last long. I want her to squeeze me as she comes around me.
I reach down and flick her clit.
At her cry of pleasure, I come.
“Fuck,” I growl in a whisper, the evidence of my orgasm filling my hand.
I blink a few times, as reality crashes over me.
I just fucked myself to the thought of a student.
I’m disgusted at myself. How much of a dirty old man can I be that I let my mind run away from me like this?
And where did it even come from?
I blow out a heavy sigh and quickly clean up the mess I made.
I’ve heard plenty of stories about professors and students, butIhave never been one of those types.
And I’m not now. It was just a fantasy. A moment of weakness. In my head. No one ever has to know.
Someone knocks on my door.
After making sure I’m decent and no clues of what just happened remain, I jump to my feet, nearly tripping over myself to get to the door to unlock it.
It’s not uncommon for me to lock it, since I don’t usually like taking too much work home, so this is my work haven away from home. The place where I grade my students and prepare my classes. My colleagues know this, so there is no need to be nervous.
