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How To Fuck Your Professor	By : Belladonna Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > General Views: 1874 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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At the end of the lesson Hunt calls you to his desk. Addison gives you a sympathetic grimace before leaving the room. You trudge reluctantly to stand in front of his desk, but meet his gaze unflinchingly when he looks up at you.

“We need to talk,” he says, “in private. Follow me to my office.”

You walk behind him as he leads you through a myriad of corridors before stopping outside a door on your left. While he takes out a set of keys to unlock it, you catch a glimpse of the name card on the door.
Prof. Thomas Hunt MD
Seeing his first name sends an unwelcome throb to your crotch as you remember moaning it last night after you climaxed. The pulsing in your crotch intensifies so you take a deep, shaky breath and follow him into a large and tastefully decorated office. The wood panelled walls display carefully placed pieces of fine art, and a few impressive sculptures have been placed strategically around the room. His desk is a huge mahogany antique that matches the dark leather chairs in front of it, and the elegant leather sofa in the corner. He moves to sit behind his desk and motions for you to take one of the seats opposite him. You oblige, dumping your heavy book bag onto the rug beneath you with a thump.

Hunt scowls at you. “That rug cost me thousands of dollars.”

Your eyes open wide. “What a coincidence! So did those text books!” You exclaim with feigned surprise, pointing at your book bag.

Hunt lets out a resigned sigh and rubs at his face. “Look, we need to talk about what happened last night. I didn’t know who you were, and even after you took of the mask I was too…compromised to recognise you-”

“You mean you were drunk as hell?” You interject.

He glares at you. “Yes. And so were you. I concede we both made mistakes, and not one of us is to blame for how the night ended. Obviously,” he continues in a matter-of-fact tone, “that will never happen again, and if the details of last night ever come to light, I will be fired and you will be expelled. So, I believe it is in both of our best interests if we keep this between us.”

As you listen to his condescending speech your anger rises steadily until you’re nearly shaking with rage at the end of it.

“That’s why you brought me in here? To make sure I wouldn’t tell?” The volume of your voice increases and you take satisfaction as you watch Hunt glance at the door nervously. You get to your feet and swing your bag over your shoulder so violently that you feel the books hit your ribs. You continue in a more subdued voice, “I’m not about to run around telling everybody I fucked my professor so I can get a few high fives.” You look away from him. “I can’t believe you think that low of me,” you say in disgust, turning to leave.

You reach your hand out to open the door, but leave it hovering just above. “And Thomas,” you say, savouring the taste of his name, “I didn’t think it was a mistake… I really enjoyed getting to know you – as well as spending the night with you.”

His silence blankets the room, and becomes so intense that you have to turn around to look at him. He’s standing next to his desk, one hand pressed flat against the surface, as if supporting himself. He’s staring at you, and the slight softness you see in his eyes fills you with longing. You take a step toward him, and then another, and he doesn’t move away as you close the distance between you. Stopping less than a foot in front of him, you gaze questioningly into his eyes. He moves his hand slowly across his desk and brings it up to rest at your waist. You don’t know who leaned in first, but his lips are on yours, and your fingers are in his hair, and his hands press you hard against him, and you can feel the bulge in his pants hard against your abdomen – oh!

You gasp as he pulls away, desperately trying to cling to him, but he backs away and covers his face with his hands.

“How do you do that to me?” He asks furiously. “You need to leave. Please.”

The plea in his voice makes you realise that you just made out with your professor in his office. You hurry to pick up your bag and rush out the door, not trusting yourself to look back at him without bursting into tears. You realise belatedly that you forgot about your music theory class, and decide against going in late, instead setting your sights on a relaxing bath and a large bottle of wine.
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How To Fuck Your Professor