Fatal Seduction

The Hot Untouchable Lecturer V

ZAYNE sat opposite her in the classroom, his knee bumping the underside of the desk with nervously. Equations sprawled across the whiteboard behind her, filled with numbers he struggled to decipher and understand. Not just because he couldn't understand them, he just couldn't see them. Not when she was standing in front of him with her beautiful curves splayed out in her little dress. He watched the elegant arc of her hand as she pointed to a variable, her sleeve riding up to reveal a delicate wrist.

“You are still mixing up your derivatives here, Zayne,” she said smoothly with her long and slender fingers tapping the textbook open before him.

He leaned forward, a surge of heat blooming in his chest. “I think… I get it now, Ms. Lesley.” His voice came out a little rougher than he intended. He reached for the pen she held, his hand brushing against the soft swell of her breast as she shifted. The contact was fleeting, but it ignited a spark that went straight to his nether region.

Her breath hitched and a faint flush bloomed high on her cheekbones. She pulled back slightly, her eyes which were usually so composed, now held a flicker of something unreadable.

His body reacted instantly by a brutal hardening that strained against his jeans. The suddenness of it shocked him. He swallowed hard as he tried not to look at his hardness and what brushing against her breasts had caused.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, the word barely audible.

She cleared her throat, and when she was about to talk about something else, her eyes dropped to his lap. The look of shock on her face was evident as she saw how thick it looked even while inside his trousers.

“It’s… alright,” she managed, her voice a little breathy. Her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she picked up a stray piece of paper.

He pushed back his chair and stood, his gaze fixed on her, on the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath her crisp blouse. He was done pretending that something wasn't happening between them. That whatever they felt for each other was real, and his hardness was a testament to it. The scent of her filled his nostrils as he stepped forward, his pulse hammering.

“Ms. Lesley,” he began, his voice low and urgent. He moved around the desk and his shadow fell over her. She didn’t move, instead she froze, her eyes wide fixed on him, waiting... wondering what was coming next.

“Zayne, what are you doing?” Her voice was a small whisper, laced with a fear that thrilled him.

He reached for her, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb stroking the soft skin beneath her ear. Her skin felt like silk under his fingers. He leaned in, and his breath washed against her face. “I want you,” he confessed.

She flinched slightly, a tiny tremor running through her at that. “No, Zayne. We can’t. This is… wrong.” Her eyes darted to the closed office door, then back to his face in a pleading manner.

He ignored her words and lowered his head, his mouth finding hers. He knew she wanted him. They both knew it. But they were going to keep running in circles as long as she avoided acknowledging their feelings for each other. Her lips were soft, hesitant at first, then parting under the insistent pressure of his. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. She made a soft, surprised sound... a whimper that vibrated through him.

His hands slid down her arms, pulling her closer, until her body pressed against his, the soft mounds of her breasts crushing against his chest. He felt the hard ridge of his erection against her stomach and could have sworn he had gotten harder.

“Zayne, please,” she murmured against his lips, but her hands, which had been pushing against his chest, now clung to his shoulders, her fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

He pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes, dark and stormy. “You want this too,” he breathed, his voice husky. “I can feel it.”

Her gaze dropped, a blush staining her neck. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice was thin and unconvincing.

Zayne smiled and shook his head before leaning down to trace the delicate curved of her neck, inhaling her scent.

“Don’t lie to me, professor,” he whispered, his tongue flicking out to tease the sensitive skin just beneath her earlobe. “Your body tells a different story.”

He felt the tension in her dissolve and reached behind her, his fingers fumbling with the zip of her dress. She gasped, her head falling back against the chair.

“Someone will see us,” she whispered, her voice laced with desperation, but she made no move to stop him.

He pulled the fabric apart, revealing the creamy expanse of her skin, the delicate lace of her bra. His fingers trembled as he unhooked it, letting it fall open. Her full and heavy breasts spilled free, the n*****s already hard, showing how much she also wanted this.

He cupped one, then the other, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive tips. She arched into his touch and a soft moan escaped her lips.

Zayne picked her up, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. She was lighter than he expected, and even more pliant in his arms like she was surrendering herself to him. He carried her to the desk, laying her down amidst the scattered papers and textbooks and watched with satisfaction as a look of bewilderment lit up in her eyes. They were really going to do this now. In the classroom. Where anyone could walk in at any point in time.

“What are you doing?” her voice was raw when she gasped, watching as Zayne carefully spread her legs across the desk.

“Making you mine,” he stated, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. He pushed her skirt up, revealing the silky fabric of her panties. He pulled them down, his fingers brushing against the warm, damp folds of her s*x. She gasped, her hips arching off the desk.

He knelt between her legs, his eyes devouring the sight of her, spread open for him. Her p***y, swollen and slick, pulsed with desire, and a bead of clear fluid clung to her c**t, glistening in the office light.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “So wet for me.”

She whimpered, her hands clutching at the edge of the desk. “Zayne, please… someone could walk in.”

He ignored her, his fingers parting her labia, revealing the glistening pink folds within. He watched as her c**t, a tiny pearl, swelled under his gaze. He lowered his head, his tongue darting out to taste the sweet, musky tang of her p***y.

She cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound. Her hips bucked, her fingers digging into the wood of the desk. “Oh god, Zayne!”

He sucked on her c**t, his tongue swirling, teasing, driving her to the brink. Her body convulsed, a wave of pleasure washing over her. Her legs trembled, her toes curling.

“You like that, don’t you, Leslie?” he whispered against her wet p***y, his breath warm against her.

“Yes,” she choked out, her voice was broken and desperate. “More. Please, more.”

He pulled back with a smirk playing on his lips when he saw that she was on the brink of her pleasure. “Not yet.” He unzipped his jeans to reveal his thick, hard and throbbing c**k. He positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his shaft nudging her wet folds.

She gasped, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “Zayne…”

He pushed, slowly, deliberately, into her. Her tight walls gripped him in a warm, wet embrace. He felt her muscles clench around him, squeezing him tightly, and he couldn't help the moan that escaped from his own throat.

“So tight,” he groaned, his voice hoarse with desire. He pushed deeper, until he was fully buried inside her, his balls slapping against her ass.

She arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders now, leaving crescent-shaped marks. “f**k, Zayne,” she hissed, her voice raw. “Please... make love to me.”

He began to move slowly at her command, in a rhythm that drew a moan from her with each thrust. Her office which was usually filled with everything about academics now echoed with the sounds of their moans. The creak of the desk... the wet sloshing of their bodies... her ragged breaths... every single movement and motion was erotic.

He watched her face, contorted in pleasure, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted in a silent scream. He sped up, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. Her legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper.

“Oh god, Zayne! I’m going to… I’m going to c*m!” she shrieked, her body trembling violently.

He drove into her one last time, a deep, powerful thrust that sent her over the edge. She screamed his name, a guttural cry of pure release, her body convulsing around his c**k. Her inner walls milked him, squeezing him, pulling him further into her climax.

He groaned, his own release building, a tidal wave crashing over him. He pumped into her, his seed spilling deep inside her in a hot, pulsing gush.

“What have we done?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, laced with a mixture of awe and horror and disbelief that she had just allowed her student to make love to her body.

He lifted his head, kissing her forehead, then her lips. “What we were always meant to do,” he murmured possessively.

***

As soon as Ms. Lesley shut her car door to get into the house, her phone pinged. She looked it up immediately.

**I hope you got home safe, my shayla. Can't wait to see you tomorrow.**

She gasped. It was Zayne.