Take Me Harder, Professor.
1349 Words
Fûcked by the Professor (5)
He stayed buried deep for a moment, making me feel every inch of him. Then came more spanks. My ass was already sore, but each one sent electric sparks straight to my core. It was overwhelming.
I didn’t want to cûm. Not yet. I wanted to be used longer.
“For a slút,” he grunted, starting to move, “you’ve got a tight little pússy.”
“Please, Sir… stretch me out. I want all of it. I love how deep you go.”
His pace picked up. Now I could take him all the way, slamming into me with each thrust. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place as he pounded harder. I was dripping, soaking the desk, and I didn’t care.
His slaps came faster now, echoing through the room. His hands gripped my hips like he owned them. He fúcked me harder and rougher.
Suddenly he stopped, pulling out with a wet sound.
I nearly sobbed.
“Oh please, Sir,” I begged, shamelessly.
“Please what?” he asked, brushing his fingers across my burning skin.
“Please fûck me, Sir…”
“So shy now?” He spanked me again, harder.
I was breathing hard.
“Say it like you mean it, Ms. Isabelle. Beg for it.”
“Please… please fúck me harder, Sir. I need it so bad.”
Another slap.
“How do you address me?”
“Please, Professor Roman. Please fúck me. I need you.”
“That’s better.”
He pushed in again, halfway this time. His strokes were deeper, hitting every nerve with cruel precision.
I was going to cûm and I could already feel it building. My thighs shook as I tried to hold it back.
“Please, Professor Roman… I want you to cûm all over my ass again.”
“Is that right?” he grunted, still fûcking me slowly, spanking my ass in between. “You like wearing it?”
“Yes. I wear your cûm all day like my dirty little secret.”
He groaned and picked up speed again. I was right on the edge, trembling, panting, and unable to hold it back.
And then I broke.
My pússy clamped around him, and my orgasm tore through me in waves. I cried out, moaning uncontrollably as he fúcked me through it. He pulled out just in time, groaning as hot spurts of cûm painted my ass.
I could feel every warm drop on my ass.
I collapsed against the desk, bound amid aching as my body buzzed. I was completely used and utterly satisfied.
Professor Roman smoothed a hand down my back. “You’re a very fast learner, Ms. Isabelle.”
I smiled, barely able to catch my breath.
“Then teach me everything, Professor Roman Blake.”
Minutes later, I was still trembling when his cûm cooled on my skin, my body limp over the desk, my thighs sticky and twitching.
But Professor Roman wasn't done.
Not even close.
He leaned over me, pressing a hand between my shoulder blades, pinning me there like prey. “You thought that was the lesson, Ms. Isabelle?” His voice was darker now. It was filled with a threat that made my core throb. “That was just the warm-up.”
My breath caught.
“I’m not finished teaching you how to beg.” his voice was now husky.
He trailed two fingers down the curve of my back. Like he had all the time in the world to remind me I belonged to him. Then, he proceeded to rub my thighs which were still slick with cúm
I was soaked and ruined. Every part of me screamed surrender. But still... I wanted more.
His hands moved to my knees, and he forced them wider apart. The ropes bit into my ankles. I was trembling, and I moaned when he shoved his fingers back inside my cúnt without warning.
“Still so tight,” he muttered, thrusting them deep. “This pretty little p***y doesn’t know what it craves more. Do you want my cóck or my punishment?”
I gasped when he curled them deep. My body jerked. His fingers found that spot again, the one that made my eyes roll back.
“Professor Roman…”
He slapped my clit. Not hard, but sharp enough to make me cry out.
“Did I say you could cúm again, Ms. Isabelle?”
“I didn’t mean to…please…I’m trying to”
Another slap. It was sharpter this time, I sobbed.
“Try harder, good girl.”
God. Why did hearing that make me wetter?
I buried my face in my arms, wrists still bound to the legs of the desk, humiliated and aching.
“I should leave you like this,” he murmured near my ear. “Tied up. Dripping. Desperate. Maybe I’ll blindfold you next time. Let you sit in your own filth. Let you feel exactly what you are when I’m done with you.”
“Please…” My voice was broken. I didn’t even know what I was begging for anymore. Release? Mercy? More?
His chuckle sent chills down my spine.
“You’ll beg properly by the time I’m done with you.”
My body tensed in anticipation, as I felt his cóck twitch behind me. He dragged it up along the mess of his cûm coating my ass, letting it smear over my skin. I gasped, ashamed at how filthy it felt. How much I loved it.
Then he moved lower.
He pressed the tip between my thighs, and lower still, until it nudged the tight ring he’d never touched before.
My asshôle.
I froze. “Wait—Professor Roman—”
“I’m not going in,” he said calmly. “Not yet.”
He rubbed against it the rim of my asshole slowly. Back and forth. Spreading his cûm over the tight rim, like he was marking territory he hadn’t conquered yet.
“Just wanted you to feel it,” he whispered, bending close. “So you’ll think about it. Every night. Every time you touch yourself. Just like I think about what you taste like, how you cry when I spank you, how this sweet little cûnt sucks me in like it’s starving.”
“You’ll take my cóck in your ass one day,” he said, voice cruel and low. “And when you do, you’ll fûcking love it .”
He gave me one last sharp slap across my ass as he finally pulled away.
I barely caught my breath before whispering, “I've never been fúcked in the ass before.”
“Obviously,” he murmured with a low laugh. “One day I will. And you’ll thank me for ruining you.”
His voice was calm and certain. Like it was a promise he planned to keep. And just like that, the air shifted.
I didn’t move. My body was still trembling, and my skin was sticky with his cûm, my breath ragged and shallow. I was panting like an animal, and yet still desperate for more.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
Shît.
Someone was coming.
Roman’s hand clamped over my mouth as he lowered his body over mine, shielding me, but it was already too late.
A soft, confused voice cut through the silence.
“Professor Roman…?”
Neither of us moved.
Then came the sharp click of heels against the tile.
“I forgot my… something,” she added, uncertain.
The steps drew closer.
I was still nàked. Still bound. His cûm was drying on my ass, my thighs sticky and spread. My wrists tied to the desk. And now someone was walking straight toward us.
Then the door creaked open. A pause.
And a familiar voice spoke again. This time, it was cold.
“I knew it,” she said. “You’ve been fûcking her, Professor Roman Blake”
My eyes flew open.
Sara.
Fûck.
It was Sara, my coursemate.
The girl who sat two rows behind me in Professor Roman’s class.
- Writer
