Office Hours Ch. 01

I had been desperate to be taken by him for the entire semester. He was my exact type-intellectual and twice my age, with thick black glasses that complemented his thin face perfectly. But it wasn't until today that I had finally felt brave enough to try to do something about it, to turn all those nights of frantically rubbing my pussy fantasizing about being filled with his cock into reality.

Today was the day he had office hours. I'd been before several times but had never managed to be able to bring myself to proposition him. Even though it wasn't exactly easy to manage to pay attention in his lectures, distracted as I was by my aching pussy, I'd worked hard and I knew I was one of the best students in the class. He always seemed to appreciate what I had to say in discussions, and it made me so happy to be able to please him in any possible way I could.

His door was open. I took a deep breath and walked in. The walls of his office were entirely occupied by completely full bookcases, which just reminded me why I was there.

He looked up from the paper he was marking up with a red pen and smiled at me. "Ah, Lucy! It's always good to see you. Have a seat."

I sat in the chair in front of his desk, and for a long moment all I could do was stare at him. God he looked sexy today. He was wearing a brown cardigan that matched his eyes and those goddamn glasses. I could barely get my head together enough to think of anything to say to him, but I knew I had to say something.

Figuring it was safest to start with something innocent, I said, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm really enjoying our unit on Remembrance of Things Past. Memory is a fascinating subject to me. It's so dense and I don't know if I'd really be able to get into it on my own, but your lectures really bring the book to life."

Another beautiful smile from him. "Thank you very much. Getting students excited about the material is why I'm here."

There was another pause, and I decided to just go ahead and go for it even though I was still scared.

"I was also wondering if you could...help me with something," I said. Oh god, am I really going through with this?

"What is it?"

I stood up. I'd gone without panties today and was wearing a very short plaid skirt.

I pulled my skirt up and started to rub myself-god, had I ever been this wet before?

"This." Somehow my fingers on my pussy erased all my nervousness. All I could think of now was how badly I needed his cock, and anyway, it was too late to back out now.

He just stared at me, no trace of emotion on his face. I kept fingering myself. I loved having him watch me.

Finally he spoke. "So you want me to fuck you, then."

"God yes! I need you to fuck me, Professor Fitzgerald!"

He stood up and closed the door, and then he took his left arm and swept everything off his desk, which I thought only happened in movies.

"Lie down." I did, keeping my hand off my pussy now. Somehow it seemed as if I shouldn't be the one deciding anything that happened anymore, as if I were meant to only obey his orders.

"Spread your legs." I opened them as wide as I could, wide enough for my feet to be hanging off the edges of his desk.

"I think I'd enjoy watching you finger yourself for me some more." I immediately moved my hand back to my pussy.

I was always loud when I fingered myself, but I was moaning so much louder than usual putting on a show for him this way. I didn't care about the other students or professors who might be hearing me-in fact, maybe there was even a part of me hoping they would.

He was watching me in an entirely detached way, as if I were something to be studied and nothing more, and somehow this just made me even more turned on. I loved how emotionless he was. I still hoped it was pleasing him to watch me, but I didn't want him to be at all obvious about it.

"Why don't you play with your tits for me," he said. I moved my other hand to them and started roughly squeezing them. I moaned louder.

"What a filthy little whore you are. I bet you do this all the time, don't you?"

"Yes! And I always think about you!" I told him truthfully. It had always felt so good doing it back in my dorm room, but I never could've dreamed how much better it would be to do it here with him watching me.

"Do you think about me fucking you?"

"Yes yes yes!"

"Well then." He loosened his belt. "You can stop fingering yourself now." With how turned on I was, it was so difficult to endure the sudden loss of much-needed stimulation, but I knew that what was about to happen was going to feel infinitely better than my hand ever could.

I was so anxious to see the cock I had been imagining for months that it seemed as if it were taking ages for him to take his pants off. Was it just because of how much I wanted it, or was he really going slowly to torment me? My brain was so clouded with arousal that I couldn't tell.

Finally his cock was revealed. It was even longer than I'd imagined, but not so thick that it would have been painful to have inside me. Best of all, it was covered with very prominent veins.

He just stood at the end of the desk, looking me over in that same detached way. Now I was sure he was just trying to torment me, and it was definitely working. After just a minute I couldn't stand it anymore.

"I need you to fuck me, Professor Fitzgerald! Please!"

Suddenly a smile. "I know that."

"Please please please! I've never been so turned on in my life!"

"Good."

I was getting worried that he wasn't planning to fuck me at all and had just been leading me on, a thought I couldn't handle. I was trying to figure out what else I could say to convince him when he spoke again.

"All right. I just wanted to take a moment to remind you that I am your superior in both intellect and authority, and therefore you should be extremely grateful that I am being kind enough to take you."

All I managed to say was "I am I am I am" before he was on top of me and my head was so jumbled that thought was impossible. I couldn't think anymore, I could only feel. My brain had completely disappeared. All I was, was a wet cunt, a wet cunt that was being filled by the brilliant man I'd been aching for from the moment I'd stepped into his class.

I'd never been fucked by someone so big before, and I couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to be so full. I'd also never been fucked by an older man, even though they'd always been the men I was most attracted to, and now that it was happening I was wondering what I'd been doing wasting my time with boys my own age. He really did seem so superior, just as he'd said, and I loved it. All I wanted to do was submit to him as completely as I could.

He was fucking me slowly, and part of me was desperate for more, but at the same time I wanted the experience to go on as long as possible, so I didn't say anything about it. Besides, everything that happened should be entirely his decision-after all, he was the authority figure.

"You're so very, very wet for me," he said. I knew from when I'd been fingering myself a moment ago that he was right, and I was sure I must be even wetter now that he was inside me.

"You're very loud for me too," he continued. "Such a slutty little bitch, coming in here and offering yourself to me out of nowhere, begging me to fuck you." I'd never thought of myself as a slut before, having only had sex with the couple of boyfriends I'd had in the past, but I didn't really feel in a position to argue with him.

He grabbed my tits with both hands and began roughly squeezing them even harder than I had, to the point that it was more than a little painful. I'd always known I was submissive, but I'd never thought of myself as a masochist, so why did that feel so good? Was it just because of how much I wanted him, or was he awakening some latent part of me that had always been there?

I loved so much that he was taking me right here on his desk. It reminded me of exactly what he was-my exceedingly intelligent professor. Yes, I found him incredibly sexy physically, but his brain was just as major a reason as his body for me wanting him. And it wasn't just how smart he was-it was the idea of him having a level of control and authority over me.

His hands were still on my tits, and suddenly he was digging his nails into them, hard. My shirt was thin and I wasn't wearing a bra (the better to look sexy for him), so I could very much feel it even though I wasn't topless.

And fuck, having him do that felt so good. Fuck! I found myself moaning even more loudly, and he noticed. "Like that, do you bitch?" he asked.

"Oh my god yes!" I exclaimed. "I never knew I liked pain before, but it feels so fucking good!"

"I'm not surprised," he said, digging his nails into me even harder now. "It's so obvious that all you want to do is submit to me, so it only follows that suffering for me would be part of what you want." To my disappointment, he let go then. I hoped he would hurt me more later.

He'd been gradually increasing his speed, and was fucking me very fast now, fast and hard. It felt like my head was getting more jumbled up with each passing moment, but I didn't care. Thinking didn't seem to matter at all anymore. All I wanted to do was feel.

While my pleasure was made incredibly obvious by the combination of my moans and my soaking-wet pussy, he was having no apparent response other than his quick breathing. With anyone else this would've upset me-I'd always wanted the guys I'd been with to be clearly enjoying it. But with him, I loved it. It just made him seem even more superior to me. I was the desperate one, and that was exactly how it should be.

This isn't to say I didn't want him to be enjoying fucking me. In fact, the idea of him getting pleasure from using me turned me on much, much more than how much pleasure I was getting myself. But I didn't doubt that he was, and so I loved how detached he seemed.

Even though he hadn't actually been fucking me all that long, I already felt so revved up that I knew I would be cumming good and hard before too long at all.

"God, I'm going to cum so hard for you," I told him.

"Just so long as you wait for my permission," he replied.

I was confused. Permission? Much as I'd wanted him to be in control of everything that happened, this didn't make any sense to me. Wasn't cumming what was supposed to happen when you had sex with someone?

"Why would I need permission?" I asked, realizing I sounded just a little indignant.

"I could just say, 'Because I said so,' but I suppose I'll tell you that it's just another way to remind you that I am your superior," he said. "And I would advise you to respect that authority."

What the hell was this even about? I did very much enjoy knowing that he was in fact superior to me, but now that I knew he was actually serious about this, I was getting pretty damn pissed off about it. I had a right to cum. I didn't have to listen to him if I didn't want to. What the hell was he going to do about it, fail me? If I really wanted to I could go to the dean and report him for fucking a student in the first place.

But I decided not to worry about any of that right now-it felt too good to be fucked by him to really let anything upset me. I went back to focusing on the feeling of his cock slamming into me, back to not even being able to think straight just a minute later.

His hands were on my tits again. This time, he was pinching my nipples, hard enough to be very painful.

"It feels so good when you hurt me!"

"Good."

"The pain feels so good and your cock feels so good and FUCK." Just like that the orgasm was upon me. It happened so quickly that I barely would've had time to ask him for permission even if I had wanted to, but I hadn't been planning on it anyway-he could go to hell as far as that went. I figured there wasn't really much of anything he could do to me.

And anyway, the orgasm itself was so unbelievably intense that I was worth whatever he possibly could have in mind to do to me. The most remarkable thing to me was how long it seemed to be lasting. I knew it couldn't really be longer than a few moments, but it felt much, much longer.

But it finally ended, and instead of pure pleasure I felt a sharp slap across my face.

"What the fuck did I tell you, bitch?" he asked.

"You...you told me not to cum without permission," I answered very quietly, suddenly not so sure that this had been such a great idea after all.

He pulled out of me and stood up. I was getting nervous. He was planning to do something to me, wasn't he?

I was just about to protest that he hadn't even let me make him cum when he began stroking himself, and for a moment my nervousness was overwhelmed by how fucking sexy he looked that way. But I knew that he had felt very different watching me than I felt watching him. When he'd made me finger myself I had been putting on a show for him, but the pleasure now was entirely his own.

He looked so sexy that, even though I'd just had a very intense orgasm, I found myself wanting already to touch myself too.

"You look really sexy," I said, hoping he would know what I was hinting at. When he didn't respond, I continued, "Would it make it better for you if you watched me again?"

He laughed. "You're already in trouble for cumming without permission, and you think I'm going to let you have more pleasure? No, I don't think so. Although, I must say it does make it more pleasurable for me that you're suffering in a way by wanting to do that but not being able to."

Somehow, the idea of my lack of pleasure pleasing him felt better than getting to touch myself would've. I was so ready to be defiant when I'd cum a moment ago, but now all I wanted to do was be perfectly submissive again.

Still, my self-control only went so far, and seeing those long long fingers on that long long cock was getting to me more and more.

Just when I was about to reach my breaking point and get in even more trouble, he took a step forward so he was right beside me, and a moment later I felt his cum coating my face. I'd been so looking forward to being filled up with it, but having it all over me still felt amazing. He rubbed his cock against my face when he was done and I found myself wondering what it would be like to have him in my mouth-would this be happening again so I'd get the chance to find out? I hoped so.

The combination of my own orgasm and the thrill of having him cum all over my face had put me in a sort of haze, and I'd almost forgotten that I'd just gotten into some sort of trouble. It wasn't until he started putting his pants back on and spoke to me that I remembered.

"So, what shall we do about your little transgression?" he asked me. I could feel my pulse quickening. I had no idea what he had in mind, and I was nervous.

He put his index finger across his lips, considering. "I have an idea," he said a moment later. "Get up."

I did. He opened one of the drawers of his desk, rummaging around for a moment before retrieving a ruler. Really? He was going to treat me like some British schoolboy from fifty years ago?

I was about to protest, but then I thought better of it. I supposed there was worse he could do. I no longer liked the idea of trying to go to the dean in retaliation of him failing me if it came to that, because it had all been so good that I was hoping he'd want to take me again. I knew I had no chance of that happening if I didn't do exactly what he wanted. Anyway, how bad could getting hit with a ruler really be? It wasn't going to hurt that much, was it?

He sat down. "Over my lap."

I lay down across him and felt him folding my skirt up. I was breathing hard, but not with nervousness-it was just the feeling of being against him, being against that cock that had just felt so fantastic inside of me. Was this going to make him hard? Was the idea of punishing me turning him on, or did he really just think I needed to be taught a lesson? I wasn't sure.

I was expecting him to give me some sort of warning before he started, so the first strike came as a total surprise. It also made it quite clear to me that my prediction that it wasn't going to hurt all that much hadn't exactly been accurate.

"Christ!"

"Hurts, doesn't it?" he asked, giving me another blow even harder than the first.

"Hell yes it hurts!" I felt the urge to be defiant starting to well up in me again, but I struggled to suppress it, figuring he would only make it worse if I objected.

"Good. It's supposed to hurt. That's what a proper punishment does-hurts you so you'll understand exactly how bad you were and teach you not to behave that way again in the future."

He had kept the ruler coming down on me with only brief pauses the whole time he'd been speaking. My instinctual reflex to protect myself from the pain was hitting me full-force, and I had to struggle to stop from covering my ass with my hands.

"Just remember why this is happening," he said. "Remember that if you'd just been obedient and asked for permission to cum you'd have gotten to feel that pleasure and be saving yourself from this pain."

"Yes, Professor Fitzgerald. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

He still wasn't pausing for more than a moment between blows, and he seemed to be making a point of hitting every single spot on me. Was this going to leave bruises? Would I be wincing every time I sat down tomorrow?

"Do you still want to cum, slut?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted. "Very much." The pain, difficult as it was to handle, was apparently not enough to distract me from that. There had been a moment when I was watching him jerk off that I'd thought I could handle not getting to, but it had worn off by now, and I was back to being desperate.

"Well, I think you should hold off on that for, hmm, another week. Just to make sure you've really learned your lesson. Do you think you can do that?"

"If that's what you want." I was used to fingering myself every single night before bed, and a week actually seemed like a very long time to me. Of course, I could have not listened if I wanted to-how would he know if I did it or not?-but somehow I felt that just wouldn't be right.

I had no idea how long he was planning to keep beating me with the ruler, but my pain tolerance was dangerously close to its limit. I was just about to give up on my resolution to not try to fight him when he suddenly stopped.

"I think that's enough. Do you understand how important it is to listen to your superiors now?"

"Yes," I replied, thinking it certainly did seem like a good idea to do so if this was what was in store for me if I didn't.

"Good. Aside from you disobeying me, this was quite enjoyable. If you'd like to, you can come back next week at the same time."

He did want to see me again! I was completely thrilled. "I'd love to!"

"I expect a report on your week without any pleasure, then," he said.

"Ok." I suddenly felt a lot less confident in my ability to be successful following that order now that I had another session with him to look forward to, but I told myself I had to manage it somehow or other, because I absolutely did not want to lose my chance to be full of his cock again.