Sweet Temptations

Every girl has a man she dreams of, not sweet innocent dreams but the type of dreams that makes her entire body hot and her thoughts sinful. For me that man is my professor, Dr. Vance, or maybe I should say my former professor since I just became his teaching assistant and he became my graduate mentor. All through college I had fantasized about his rock-hard body, his dreamy eyes and his oh so sexy voice that made my knees weak, I had to have him so I doubled my efforts and when I finally applied for the teaching assistant position, it was mine without a doubt. “Go out with me tonight to celebrate becoming colleagues” he had said to me when I went to his office. “Yes Sir” I had replied. “I will text you the details and yes, Miss Alistair?” My name on his lips did things to me, things that should never be said out loud. “Yes, Dr. Vance?” I replied, impressed that I was able to keep the sin out of my voice. His eyes suddenly ran over my entire body, they darkened as they passed the swell of my breasts and darkened even more when they passed by my seductive hips. “Wear something sexy tonight” he said, his voice low and deep. Heat suddenly washed over my entire body, a smile passed my lips as I said “As you wish, Sir” I turned around, swayed my hips and left his office. ******************** I walked into the bar Dr. Vance had chosen and the first thought that came to my mind was s*x and red wine, I was glad my little black dress went perfectly with the ambience of the bar. Finding Dr. Vance was easy, even in the dimly lit room, his presence was hard to miss, he was seated at a corner, perfect for privacy. For some reason, I was not nervous when I walked up to him, his eyes had found me and they followed my every movement, a smile curved my lips, Dr. Vance wanted me and he wanted me bad. I finally got to his table, he stood up and gestured for me to take my seat. “You look breathtaking tonight Miss Alistair” he said as he took his seat. I smiled and offered my thanks. Dr. Vance’s eyes held mine with an intensity that should never exist between a professor and his teaching assistant. “You are staring, Ms. Alistair” he said, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Am I?” I countered, suddenly feeling very bold tonight. His smile darkened and so did his eyes. “I was just thinking, I don’t have to call you Sir anymore” “No” he agreed, his voice dropping an octave. The sound vibrated through the thin silk of my dress “You don’t.” he leaned forward, the scent of sandalwood and bourbon wrapping around me “What would you call me instead?” The question hung between us, charged and heavy, I didn’t answer with words. I reached across the table, my fingers brushing over the back of his hand where it rested beside his glass. A jolt, hot and immediate shot up my arm, his gaze darkened, his pupils swallowing the hazel of his irises. That was all the permission we needed. He stood, dropping cash on the table without looking and took my hand. His grip was firm, possessive, we didn’t speak in the uber, his never left my hand, his thumb tracing slow maddening circles on my inner wrist as the city lights blurred past. The silence was a language of its own, thick with anticipation. His apartment was exactly as I’d imagined, shelves heavy with books, a leather sofa and a view of the skyline but I saw none of it. The door had barely clicked shut behind us before he pushed me against it, his body a solid wall of heat pinning me in place. “Two years” he growled against my ear, his breath hot “Two years of you in those smart little skirts, bending over my desk, smelling like vanilla and looking like sin itself, do you have any idea what that did to me?” My heart hammered against my ribs. “Tell me” He didn’t. He showed me. His mouth crashed down on mine, not with professional restraint but with a hunger that stole my breath, it was deep and claiming, his tongue sweeping over mine with a familiarity that felt both shocking and inevitable, I moaned into his mouth him, my hands flying up to tangle his perfectly messy hair, ruining it completely. He broke the kiss, panting and his hands went to the thin straps of my dress “Off” he commanded, the word a rough whisper. I shivered, the authority in his voice sparking a liquid heat between my thighs. I helped him, the silk whispering as it pooled at my feet, leaving me in only a lace bra and panties. His eyes raked over me, a visual caress so intense it felt physical. “Beautiful” he murmured, more to himself than to me. Then his mouth was on my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there while his hands cupped my breasts through the lace. His thumb found my n*****s, already hardened into tight pebbles and rolled them slowly. A sharp gasp tore from my throat, my head falling back against the door with a soft thud. “Vance” I breathed, the name strange and thrilling on my lips” “Say it again” he demanded, his mouth travelling lower, following the line of my collarbone. “Vance” it was a plea. He unhooked my bra with practiced ease and his mouth was on me. He took one aching n****e into the wet heat of his mouth, his tongue flicking and swirling as his hand kneaded the other breast. The dual sensation was overwhelming, a direct line of pleasure that tightened my core made my knees buckle. He held me up, his arm strong around my waist as he lavished attention on my breasts, switching from one to the other until I was whimpering, my fingers clutching at his shoulders. “I need to taste you,” he said, his voice ragged. He sank to his knees before me, his hands sliding down my hips to grip the sides of my panties. He looked up at me, his expression one of raw desire “All of you” He hooked his fingers in the lace and drew them down my legs. The cool air of the apartment hit my damp skin and I trembled. He didn’t give me a moment to feel exposed, he spread my thighs with his hands and leaned in, his breath fanning over my slick folds. “So perfect” he whispered and then his tongue was on me. The first, long, slow lick from my entrance to my c**t made me cry out, it was an electric shock of pure sensation. He didn’t tease, he feasted. His mouth sealed over my c**t, sucking gently as his tongue lashed the swollen bud with a rhythm that was instantly, devastatingly perfect. One of his hands slid up to pinch and roll a n****e, the dual assault on my most sensitive spots making my vision blur. “Oh God…right there” I moaned, my hips beginning to move of their own accord, seeking more pressure, more friction. He gave it to me, his tongue delving inside me before returning to circle my c**t with relentless precision. His free hand slipped into me with ease, curling upward to find a spot that made my entire body jolt. “There” he confirmed, his voice muffled against me sending sweet vibrations through my core. He pressed that spot again, his fingers pumping in slow, deep rhythm that matched the suction of his mouth. The coiling tension in my belly was immediate and fierce, a spring wound too tight, I could feel it building, a gathering storm of pleasure centered where his mouth and fingers worked in sinful harmony. “I’m… Vance, I am going to…” He redoubled his efforts, his tongue fluttering rapidly against my c**t, the world narrowed to that point of contact. The pressure broke. My climax crashed over me in a violent, shuddering wave, pulling a ragged scream from my throat as my body convulsed against his mouth, he rode it out with me, his tongue gentling to soft, soothing licks as the tremors subsided, leaving me boneless and panting against the door. He rose, his own breathing uneven and kissed me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips. It was wildly intimate. He was hard, the evidence of his own need pressing insistently against the fly of his trousers. He guided my hand there. “Your turn” he said, his voice a dark promise. A smile curved my lips, tonight was going to be a long rough night, just the way I liked it.