Teacher's Pet Ch. 01

The scratchy material covering the tacky chair in my professor's office made me want to either stay frozen in place or wiggle to relieve the slight itch on my skin. It wasn't my first visit there, for one reason or another I found myself sitting in that chair rather often; too bad it never came to anything except for a strongly worded lecture on my attendance.

He sat there behind his desk, looking at some papers in his hands. I watched as one hand came up to push his narrow black glasses back up the ridge of his nose to cover his ice blue eyes. They were in the top three things that made this professor a recurring character in my fantasies; his height and his voice were the other two.

"Ms. Eaves, I asked you here today --remarkably not about your attendance- but about today's attire," he covered a cough with his hand and stacked the papers to the side. Folding his hands on the desk he leaned slightly forward and looked at me over the tops of the glasses. "Do you understand why it's inappropriate?"

I blushed and squeezed my legs tighter together, "cause when I woke up late this morning and rolled out of bed I threw on the wrong skirt?" I bit my lower lip slightly to keep myself from smiling as I looked down at my hands folded in my lap. The problem was it wasn't an accident. I normally never wore the skirt unless I meant to dress naughty for a boyfriend or lover, but this morning when I saw it hanging in my closet, I pictured this teacher and couldn't help myself. The black pleated skirt and tank top were set off wonderfully by tasteful silver jewelry and tennis shoes.

I looked up and for a moment and could have sworn I saw him blush, "um, yes" he adjusted his glasses again, "yes, as you are most likely aware, your skirt is in violation of this institution's dress code."

I sat up straighter and gripped the arms of the chair as I repositioned my legs from crossed to knees together, feet to the side, "I am so sorry Sir. I didn't mean to cause a problem." I replied while resting my hands on my knees, my elbows in close forcing my well sized breasts together and slightly forward, "if you'd like I can always go over to the physical education building to change. My yoga bag is in my locker."

I repressed my joy at his eyes being locked on my low cut tank top as leaned forward to pick up my bag, "is there anything else you wanted Sir?" I looked up while still reaching, my fingertips brushing the bag's strap to see him clutching a paper too tightly. "Is everything ok Sir?"

For a moment I thought he wasn't going to answer, his eyes were wondering, locked on my body. In order to reach for my bag that I had stashed at my feet, I had had to separate my knees flashing black, white and pink Hello Kitty panties under my skirt and my shirt was hanging away from breasts showing off the matching bra.

I lost myself for a moment watching his gaze, and not realizing what I was doing, my left hand slowly touched my knee and my fingers grazed up my inner thigh, matching his gaze. When his eyes finally came up further than my exposed chest, he had nearly destroyed the paper that had in his hands. "Um," frazzled he blinked his eyes and tried to focus on the clock on the wall above me, but I wouldn't have it. I had had his attention as I'd wanted since the first day of class and he had walked in, black slacks, white button down, black tie and glasses.

I kept my gaze on his clear blue eyes as I licked my lower lip and stood up. I brushed my long brown bangs that had fallen over to cover most of my face as I turned and reached down to grab my bag. I could picture what he was seeing. My nice round ass covered in black cotton and a large pink heart on the right cheek.

"Ms. Eaves!" his voice was deeper and slightly strangled, "if you please?"

I turned to look over my shoulder only half straightening, the bag's strap dangling from my fingertips, "Sir?"

He pushed back his chair and just looked at me. I knew his eyes were amazing, but to feel the full focus of that intense gaze locked on me was almost more than I could bear. If looks could kill, I had earned a first class ticket to heaven; it would be heaven in his touch. Having never seduced someone before it took me a moment to realize, he wouldn't say it. The words were never going to cross his lips, if I wanted what he wasn't saying I was going to have to take the first step.

The strap slipped from my hand as I stood and walked slowly around his desk. He still sat straight in his chair, his black slacks tight across the knees. He didn't move as I stepped closer, I paused between each step to make sure I had this right, that I had read his look correctly. My bangs slid back down and I watched him through the brown strands as I came to a stop just before his knees. His eyes never left mine as he reached forward and up to grab me on the upper thigh, his fingers sliding under the hem of the skirt and then the edge of my underwear.

His hands tightened as he pulled me forward, and when my legs were pressed against the edge of his seat, I felt the tips of his fingers press into the skin; if I didn't have nail marks left over, I would have been surprised. I didn't know what to do with my hands yet, he just sat there, my cheeks cupped in his firm grip and eyes still locked with mine. I parted my lips, unsure of myself, licking my lip again; nervous habits dying hard.

Quicker than a snake his left hand left my skirt and grabbed my hip to pull me down to my knees. With a small gasp of surprise I hit the plastic carpet protector hard, I could feel the spikes underneath pressing back up against me. He relaxed his right arm to rest it on the chair as used his left hand to brush away my bangs. I lost his gaze then, as he looked at my lips. His thumb brushed down my jaw to my lips as he cupped my cheek and tilted my head one way and then the other.

I laid my arms across his thighs and nipped at the tip of his thumb. Fire roared to life in his eyes as my small bite turned to a light lick. My hand reached forward but I stopped just as my fingers brushed his belt, tilting my head in silent question. No words, just His eyes on me. I broke the gaze to open his belt and then a clasp and the zipper. I reached into the black boxer briefs to gently pull his cock through the slit in fabric.

When his hand slid up into my long hair at the back of my head I leaned forward and licked the head. Taking my professor into my mouth, I moaned. The first sound other than steps and fabric to be heard by either seemed to set us free. His other hand came up to clasp the back of my neck and he grunted as he slid forward to the edge of the chair, keeping my head in place so the head of his cock slid deeper into my mouth nearly touching my throat.

I squirmed in my position, moaning happily at the feel of his hands on me, tasting him, feeling him growing harder between my lips. I could feel how wet I had already become, ready for more of him; hoping for more of him.

Too quickly he was pulling at my hair, pulling me free, but I whimpered, not wanting to stop; wanting to taste his cum inside my mouth. Pressing me back on my heels he stood and then pulled me up and pushed me down over his desk. I closed my eyes as I felt pen was pressed under my stomach; I could feel the ink seeping into my shirt. I shivered as he stepped closer and I heard fabric falling. When I felt his hand sliding around front of my neck I pressed back, but his other hand on my hip restricted my movements. My neck was pulled back, arching my back, forcing me up onto my elbows. I opened my eyes to see our reflections in a mirror on the far wall. I saw his eyes taking in my hanging breasts as I felt the hand on my hip slide down to push my skirt up over my lower back. I watched as his attention moved to my ass and his hand slid the skin there. I shifted forward, moving my feet wider, slipping the head of his cock along my skin. When he had worked just the head in, the hand on my neck moved to cover my mouth, his right hand reached around the side of my stomach and with a quick hard thrust, he pressed into me.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to dance for joy. Instead when I had adjusted to his invasion I rocked back, and wiggled ever so slightly as if to say "is that all you've got?" I learned quickly that he had more, oh so much more.

He took me hard against the edge of his desk; I could feel the imprint of the wood across the front of my thighs, leaving bruises. My mind was lost to the feel of him sliding in and out me, fast and hard, slow and sure. When I was close to coming and I could feel my inner muscles beginning to tighten around him, he grabbed me under the chin, his fingers pressing into my cheeks squeezing until I looked up into the mirror to see him shaking his head. I whimpered and though I begged with my eyes for release he just shook his head again and slowly drew himself out to till just the head was left and then slammed back in till his thighs slapped against mine and I could feel him inside so deep it seemed I could almost taste him again.

Tormenting me, taking me, in and out, he used me for his pleasure till finally he pulled out, pulled me back to kneel at his feet, his hand in my hair pulling my head back till his cock rested on my bottom lip and he came. The salty taste of him pouring over my tongue as I took all he had to give me. I must of whimpered or made some sign of distress, because when he was done and he had wiped himself dry he leaned over me, one hand braced on my shoulder and whispered with his deep, dark voice, "next time you wear that skirt, I'll have you over my knee." His hand moved up, back into the hair at the back of my head, "now, be a good girl and put away what you took out."

I reached up, sad to see it go but doing as I was told. When I had finished pushing the belt back into place, he pulled me up to stand before him. I straightened my shirt and smoothed my skirt as I focused on his tie. I could barely hold still, I was still so close to coming I ached to feel or taste him, anything to make the torment end.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him, his thigh pressed against my center, my breasts squeezed to the side of his chest. "Do you want release?" his whisper almost a sigh across my cheek.

I nodded shyly as I looked up to him, but when I opened my mouth to answer, he pressed a finger against my lips, "not today."

He kissed my left temple before grabbing his briefcase and walking to his door. Opening and waiting with his hand on the door knob he looked back at me expectantly, "Ms Eaves, I expect to see you dressed more appropriately in our class on Wednesday, is that understood?"

I mentally gathered myself and walked around to grab my bag from the floor, stepping through the door I turned, "Yes, Sir, I understand. I'll change right away, and again, I'm sorry."

"Good girl," he nodded and closed the door behind himself. "I'll see you later."