50 Shades Of Sinful Pressure

Professor's Private Reasons II

Professor Kelvin’s eyes were almost black with l**t now. He gripped my hair tighter and pulled me off his c**k with a wet sound. His chest heaved as he stood up, towering over me.

“Stand up,” he ordered, voice gravelly and commanding. “Turn around and bend over the desk. Hands flat on the wood.”

A thrill shot through me. I rose on shaky legs, turned, and leaned forward over the large oak desk, pushing papers aside. I arched my back deeply, pushing my a*s out toward him, skirt riding all the way up to my waist. My bare p***y was completely exposed — swollen, slick, and dripping with need.

He stepped behind me, one large hand smoothing over my a*s cheek before delivering a sharp smack that made me gasp. The sting bloomed into heat.

“So f*****g wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. His fingers traced through my folds, spreading my juices. “You came here with no panties, dripping for your professor like a desperate w***e. How long have you been fantasizing about this?”

“Since the first lecture,” I admitted breathlessly as two thick fingers circled my c**t, then pushed inside me. The stretch felt incredible. He curled them expertly, hitting that sensitive spot that made my knees buckle. “Every time you talked about taboo… I imagined you doing this to me.”

He pumped his fingers faster, the obscene wet sounds filling the office. My juices coated his hand, dripping down my inner thighs. I moaned loudly, no longer trying to stay quiet.

“Quiet,” he warned, but his actions contradicted the words — he added a third finger, stretching me wider, f*****g me with them relentlessly while his thumb rubbed my c**t in firm circles.

Pleasure built fast and vicious. My walls clenched greedily around his fingers. “Professor… I’m so close already…”

“Not yet.” He withdrew his hand suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. I whimpered in protest.

Then I felt the blunt, hot head of his c**k press against my entrance. He rubbed it up and down my slit, coating himself in my wetness, teasing me mercilessly.

“Beg for it,” he demanded.

“Please,” I gasped, pushing back against him. “Please f**k me, Professor. I need your c**k inside me. Use me. Teach me how good the f*******n feels.”

With a low growl, he gripped my hips and slammed into me in one powerful thrust. The sudden fullness made me cry out — he was thick, stretching my p***y to its limit, hitting deep. The burn mixed perfectly with pleasure.

He didn’t start slow. He f****d me hard and deep from the very first stroke, the desk creaking loudly beneath us. Papers flew to the floor. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed obscenely. My breasts pressed against the wood, n*****s hard and sensitive through my blouse.

“f**k, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pounding into me. One hand reached around to rub my c**t again while the other tangled in my hair, pulling my head back slightly. “Taking your professor’s c**k so well. Such a perfect little s**t for me.”

Every thrust sent waves of ecstasy through me. I could feel every vein, every inch of him dragging along my inner walls. My moans grew louder, unrestrained. The risk of someone hearing only heightened everything.

He changed the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over. My o****m built like a tidal wave.

“I’m gonna come—” I warned, voice breaking.

“Come on my c**k,” he commanded, f*****g me even harder. “Milk me like the dirty student you are.”

The o****m exploded through me. My p***y spasmed violently around his thick shaft, juices gushing as intense pleasure ripped through every nerve. I cried out, body shaking, vision blurring.

Professor Kelvin groaned deeply, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard, flooding me with hot, thick ropes of c*m. I felt every pulse, every spurt filling me up.

We stayed locked together for long moments, panting, his c**k still twitching inside my fluttering walls. c*m began to leak out around him, dripping down my thighs.

He finally pulled out slowly, watching with dark satisfaction as more of his seed trickled from my well-f****d p***y.

“Next time,” he said, voice still rough as he zipped himself up, “you’ll stay after my afternoon lecture. No panties. And we’ll continue this lesson properly.”

I straightened up on shaky legs, pulling my skirt down, feeling his c*m continue to leak out of me. The mess only made me smile wickedly.

“Yes, Professor. I can’t wait for the next class.”

But deep down, I already knew one lesson wouldn’t be enough.