THE PROFESSOR I SHOULDN'T WANT

TOO CLOSE TO BREATHE

Aria stayed longer than she meant to.

That was the first mistake.

The seminar had ended nearly half an hour ago, but the room still felt occupied in a strange way — like something had not fully concluded, even though everyone else had already left.

Her notebook was open on the desk, but she wasn’t writing anymore. Just sitting there, fingers resting lightly on the edge of the page, pretending she still had a reason to be here.

She didn’t.

Not really.

The corridor outside was quiet now. Campus noise had shifted into distance. Chairs around her were empty, slightly misaligned from people leaving too quickly to care about neatness.

Aria finally closed her notebook.

Paused.

Then opened it again for no reason at all.

That annoyed her more than it should have.

A chair shifted near the front of the room.

She looked up.

Professor Vale was still there.

Not seated anymore.

Standing by the desk, laptop closed now, sleeves rolled slightly higher than earlier. The formal structure of the seminar had dissolved, but he hadn’t changed his presence with it.

If anything, he felt more defined in the silence.

“You’re still here,” he said.

Not a question.

Aria adjusted her bag strap.

“I was finishing notes,” she replied.

It wasn’t convincing.

She knew it.

He didn’t challenge it.

That silence felt worse than correction.

He stepped away from the desk slowly.

Not toward the door.

Toward her.

Aria noticed that immediately.

And didn’t move.

That was the problem.

She should have.

But she didn’t.

The space between them narrowed with each step he took, not quickly, not aggressively — just steadily, like distance was something he was choosing to reduce without asking permission from it.

He stopped a few steps away.

Close enough now that the room felt smaller.

“Why are you still here?” he asked quietly.

Aria swallowed lightly.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Honest.

Unplanned.

A pause followed.

Then his gaze shifted slightly — not away, not down, just sharper focus.

“That’s not like you,” he said.

Something in her chest tightened.

“You don’t know what I’m like,” she replied.

Another pause.

Then—

“I know what you show,” he said.

That landed differently.

Not accusation.

Not praise.

Just certainty.

Aria didn’t respond.

Because the answer didn’t feel necessary in that moment.

He stepped closer again.

Now there was almost no space left between them that felt neutral.

The air itself felt different.

Less academic.

More aware.

Aria’s breathing slowed slightly.

She noticed that.

That annoyed her.

Because she couldn’t control it.

And he noticed that too.

Of course he did.

“You’re still doing it,” he said quietly.

“Doing what?”

“Leaving before things settle.”

Aria frowned slightly.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does,” he said simply.

Silence followed again.

But it wasn’t empty anymore.

It was loaded.

His hand lifted then, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing her jawline before cupping the side of her face. Aria's breath hitched, her eyes locking onto his as he closed the final inch. His lips pressed against hers—firm, insistent, tasting of restrained hunger. She froze for a split second, then melted into it, her mouth opening under his, tongue sliding against his in a wet, urgent tangle.

Professor Vale's other hand gripped her waist, pulling her body flush against his. She felt the hard bulge of his c**k pressing into her stomach through his slacks, thick and throbbing. Aria moaned into the kiss, her hands fisting his shirt, yanking it free from his belt. He broke the kiss only to growl low, “f**k, Aria,” before claiming her mouth again, deeper, teeth nipping her lower lip.

He spun her around, backing her against the desk. Papers scattered as he lifted her onto the edge, her ass hitting the wood with a thud. Aria's legs parted instinctively, skirt riding up her thighs. His hands shoved the fabric higher, exposing her soaked panties. He hooked fingers into the waistband and ripped them down her legs, tossing them aside. Cool air hit her bare p***y, already slick and swollen.

Vale dropped to his knees between her spread thighs, gripping her knees to force them wider. His breath ghosted over her folds before his tongue dragged flat up her slit, lapping her juices from c**t to entrance. Aria gasped, head falling back, fingers threading into his hair. He sucked her c**t hard, tongue flicking relentlessly, then plunged two fingers into her tight cunt, curling them to stroke her inner walls.

She bucked against his face, hips grinding as he finger-f****d her deeper, his free hand pinning her thigh down. “So wet for me,” he muttered against her p***y, vibrations sending shocks through her. His fingers pumped faster, thumb circling her c**t while he thrust his tongue inside alongside them, devouring her like he starved for it. Aria's walls clenched, orgasm building fast—too fast. She cried out, “Professor—f**k—I'm coming!” Her p***y spasmed, gushing over his hand and mouth, thighs quaking around his head.

He didn't stop, licking her through the waves until she whimpered from overstimulation. Standing, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark with lust. Aria watched, panting, as he unzipped his slacks. His c**k sprang free—heavy, veined, the thick head already leaking precum. Nine inches at least, curving slightly upward. She licked her lips, reaching for it, but he batted her hand away.

“Not yet.” He gripped her hips, yanking her to the desk's edge, lining up his cockhead with her dripping entrance. One hard thrust buried half his length inside her. Aria screamed, nails digging into his shoulders, her p***y stretching around his girth. He groaned, pulling back only to slam in fully, balls slapping her ass. “Tight little student cunt,” he rasped, starting a brutal rhythm—pulling out to the tip, then pounding back in, desk creaking under them.

Aria wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him deeper. Each thrust hit her cervix, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through her core. His hands roamed—gripping her t**s through her blouse, pinching n*****s until she arched. He ripped open her shirt, bra shoved up, mouth latching onto one hard peak, sucking and biting while his hips snapped forward relentlessly.

Sweat slicked their skin, the room filling with wet slaps of his c**k plunging into her soaked p***y, her moans, his grunts. He shifted angles, grinding her c**t with his pelvis on every drive. Aria felt another climax coiling, tighter. “Harder—f**k me harder, Professor!” He obliged, one hand sliding between them to rub her c**t furiously. She shattered again, walls milking his c**k in rhythmic squeezes, crying his name.

Vale's pace faltered, thrusts erratic. “Gonna fill this p***y,” he warned, then roared, burying deep as his c**k pulsed, hot c*m flooding her depths in thick spurts. Rope after rope painted her insides, overflowing to drip down her ass onto the desk. He kept pumping shallowly, riding out his release, until spent.

They stayed locked, breathing ragged, his forehead against hers. His c**k softened inside her, c*m leaking out as he finally pulled free. Aria shivered, legs trembling, utterly claimed. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, possessive kiss, murmuring against her mouth, “This changes everything, Aria. And I want more.” She nodded weakly, heart racing with forbidden thrill.

Gently, he lifted her off the desk, her torn clothes hanging loose, p***y still throbbing with his seed trickling down her thighs. He steadied her on shaky legs, fingers tracing her flushed skin. “Get dressed before someone comes,” he whispered, voice husky, but his touch lingered on her hip, thumb brushing her c**t teasingly. Aria whimpered, pulling him into another kiss