under the desk || prof!tom smut
professor holland has a special assignment for you...
wc ↠ 3k. warnings ↠ nsfw 18+ content. bj under the table, (unseen) exhibitionism, dom!tom/sub!reader, sir/good girl kink, a lot of praise, fingering, slight degradation, pinching, minor pain kink. messy rough against-the-table unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!). I don’t condone this form of relationship irl! be safe. a/n ↠ you know i had to do it to ‘em. thanks @darlingspidey for coming into my askbox and choosing violence. minors dni or you will be blocked!!!!
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
“You want me to what?”
The smirk on Professor Holland’s face is unmoving as he folds his arms across his chest. The tight sleeves of his suit bulge to accommodate the curves of his biceps, and you find yourself biting your lower lip despite his shocking proposition.
“I want you to get on your knees and suck my cock for the entire lesson, darling. I don’t understand why this is so difficult for you to understand. Thought you were my smart girl, eh?” He brings two slender fingers to your cheek, running calloused fingertips down to your chin. As Tom angles your face to look at him, his eyes hold nothing but dominance.
“But… What if someone sees?”
Tom is still caressing your face, and you feel yourself ease as he pushes his thumb into your mouth. He steps closer, caging you in until the backs of your thighs press into the hard line of his desk. As his warm breath fans out across your face, you shiver.
“No one will see,” he tells you, accent thick. His South London twang always comes out more prominently in times like these. “We’re too far at the front.” He brings his other hand to your waist, squeezing your flesh with a rough touch that makes you moan around his thumb. “Promise I’ll make it up to you, love,” he adds, voice a blend of sultry tones. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
When he swaps out his thumb for his index and middle fingers, you instinctively lap around the pads of his fingertips. Tom just smirks, knowing he has you right in the palm of his hand. You’ve done risky things with your professor before, but to hide beneath his desk and suck him off for an hour..? It sounds like torture. Yet, with the way his eyes twinkle so seductively, you find yourself leaning into it. You’ve always been a bit of a sadist, anyway, and it’d be hard to disagree with him when he looks like this—brown hair slicked back, face glowing with health, deep eyes like pools of honey.
Tom pulls his fingers from your mouth, but before you can complain about their absence, he brings them down between your legs. You’re already bare beneath the skirt—he’d spent a memorable five minutes ghosting his mouth over the front of your panties before ripping them off and devouring your aching slit with his tongue. You’re still wet now, your cunt cooled by the mix of his saliva and your arousal that slicks your thighs. Tom coos as he presses his fingers into your hole.
“Sir,” you whimper, reaching back to grab at the desk. You’re running hot, skin prickling with need. Your nipples press against the front of your shirt, aching and straining, moving with each heavy heave of your chest. As Tom curves his fingers and quickly finds your g-spot, your breath hitches in the back of your throat.
“You’re so wet, darling,” he murmurs thickly. Tom steps closer, thin lips biting at your neck as you whimper. He doesn’t need to be careful about leaving marks—both of you know the only person who will see you for the next hour will be him. “You want it, don’t you? You want to do this for me. You want to have my cock down your throat as everyone else sits up there, completely unaware of what you’re doing.”
You toss your head back, inching closer to a high that he’s only been denying you. “Yes,” you gasp out, knowing he’s right, knowing you can already feel the ache in your knees from the lecture hall’s carpet. “I want it.”
“Good girl.” Tom kisses your cheek before stepping back, his hand disappearing from between your legs. He ignores your whine of disappointment as he flops down into his desk chair, his thighs parting as he lazily unpicks his belt. He raises a brow towards you until you slowly sink to your knees, crawling between his legs and sitting at his feet obediently. The humiliation burns into lust as he strokes a hand over your cheek, eyes full of adoring arousal. “Such a good little thing, aren’t you?”
Your eyes widen as you see him pull his cock free, his length full-mast and his tip weeping. Without thought, you find yourself licking your lips. You sit forward, eagerly looking up to him and shivering as you take in the lust swirling in his eyes.
“Please, Professor,” you ask, voice hoarse. “Can I suck you off now?”
He melts like a candle to a flame, cooing as he nods softly and brings both hands to hold the back of your head. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t make me cum. You can touch yourself if you really can’t control yourself, but you better not even think about cumming.”
Once he’s finished outlining his demands, you nod. Tom scoots closer, the chair all the way beneath the desk now and obscuring his face. It’s dark down here, but you can make out enough—his watch-clad wrist, laying back on his thigh, the outline of his cock. With the hand still on your cheek, Tom coaxes you forward, a throaty groan leaving his mouth as you finally part your lips and take him.
The stretch of your mouth is familiar and needed, and you find yourself moaning a little as your lips part to take him. Tom’s heavy on your tongue, and you tease your tip over his slit to gather the white beads of precum. As his taste seeps over you, you whine, and the sound thickens when Tom roughly pushes you further down.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, lazy voice drifting down from above the desk. “Just like that. Keep that going. Mouth feels like fuckin’ heaven, darling. Such a good girl. So obedient.”
You hum in response, and slowly start to bob your head. You have an hour to kill, so you don’t go too fast, setting the speed gradually as he flexes the fingers on his thigh into a fist and holds your face with harsh fingers. The bite of the pain against your skin as he presses his index and middle fingers together just makes your arousal worse.
“People are about to come in,” he adds, voice low. “If you want to stop, just squeeze my hand, yeah?” When you moan in agreement, Tom hums. “Good girl.”
The noise in the lecture hall is quick to build as the clock approaches the hour. You stay beneath the table, your knees starting to hurt from the bend, but you like it. As Tom starts to present his lecture, you settle into a rhythm beneath him. You rest one hand on his knee for balance and keep the other between your legs, slowly playing with your sensitive bud as your mouth stays on his cock. You alternate between kitten-licking his messy tip and deep-throating him, concentrating immensely when you loosen your throat every time you press in closer.
Each time you push particularly deep, your nose ends up buried in the curly spring of hair above his pubic bone. Whenever that happens, Tom ends up losing his train of thought, stammering over his words as he pinches your cheek a little tighter. You keep it rare, only occasionally disrupting his flow, knowing better than to try and embarrass him in front of so many people. That’s not your objective, anyway.
Time loses meaning after a while, with everything fading that isn’t Tom. Tom—with his hand on your cheek, his legs warm against your front, his cock in your mouth. There’s a thick trail of saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth and your eyes sting with tears. Small wet noises occasionally rise from your mouth as your lips pull away from his cock, and they mix with the noises of your fingers between your legs. You alternate between fucking yourself and teasing your clit, only toying, knowing nothing will come of your actions until he’s finished his class. You shift slightly from leg to leg, and the jostling makes you strike your g-spot just right.
Your teeth sink into your lower lip as your mouth falls away from him, your eyelids fluttering shut as you feel the edge approach. You don’t want to cum, but it feels too good to stop. As you wrestle with the desire to give in and add another finger to your clit, Tom clears his throat.
“—Let me just grab something from my bag,” Professor Holland speaks, voice eloquent and clear. He bends over, his hands leaving you as he pretends to rummage your bag.
Tom looks at you, raising a brow in question as his eyes meet with yours. He doesn’t say a thing, still with a microphone clipped to the front of his suit, but his piercing dark eyes say it all:
I didn’t say you could stop.
He continues to look at you as you hasten to sit forward, tender knees digging further into the carpet as you take his cock back between your lips. You moan softly to show your appreciation, feeling more spit fall down your wet chin as you take him deeply. Tom’s lips soften, an expression of enjoyment briefly fluttering across his face before he reaches out to pat your cheek softly. He pulls up a moment later, procuring a blank piece of paper from his bag at the last moment.
You wonder if he’ll give you a second one-on-one lesson to catch you up on all the content that you’ve missed.
For the last part of the class, you focus primarily on him. Professor Holland weaves his hand into your hair and guides you, calling the shots as he pulls you deeper whenever he desires. You end up adding in your hand, using your fingers to pump the top of his length and paying attention to his thick girth as you pump him. Tom gets tetchy, his hips softly rising up to meet your movements every time you work him deeper. You can almost hear the relief in his voice as he utters, finally,
“That’s it, everyone. Thanks for your time. I’ll see you all next week. If anybody has any questions, my office hours can be found online.”
Tom strokes his fingers through your hair as you listen to the babble of noise rise again. There’s the sounds of laptops closing, bags zipping, people trudging down the stairs of the theatre. You take him all the way, his tip brushing up against the back of your throat. Your lips ache, and your tongue feels numb as your nose brushes up against his warm skin. He makes you wait a very long time, your mind running wild, mouth salivating as you stay still and hold him on your tongue, shivering in anticipation. The slick between your legs is just as persistent as it was an hour ago, and you can feel your needy hole clenching around nothing as your fingers slowly stroke your clit.
“Fucking finally,” Tom mutters. A moment later, he grabs you by the hair and quickly pulls you off, your lips releasing his cock with a pop. He scoots the chair back and jerks you forward, a few tears falling down your cheeks as your eyes struggle to readjust to the bright lighting of the room. “Oh, darling... You’re all messy.”
He easily hauls you up to your feet, but you don’t need to linger on your wobbly legs for too long before he’s pushing you up and onto his desk. Tom drops down, briefly bending over to kiss both of your knees before giving you his full, undivided attention. His hands go to your face, nimble fingers taking care of the tear tracks and the mess of drool and precum sticking to your chin. Your cheeks feel hot as he tuts his tongue and inspects you, his cock pressing up against your lower body as he steps closer.
“You did such a good job,” he adds, soothingly. His lips come down over your forehead. “Sucked my cock so well, sweetheart. Felt so good.”
You smirk softly, parting your legs and leaning back. You dig your elbows into the cool wood of his desk, looking up at his face and enjoying Tom’s gaze on your figure. His hands go down to your skirt, and he flips it up, fingers gravitating to your slit.
“Please, sir,” you manage, voice slightly hoarse, words slurring. “Please fuck me? I need you.”
Tom chuckles. He wraps his hand around his length and guides it to your slit, the hard pressure of his cock making you whimper when he presses his tip to your clit. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, and you cry out as he nudges his bulbous head against your clit.
“Well… I did say I’d reward you, didn’t I?” he teases. Tom shifts his cock down to your entrance, and you buck your hips, trying desperately to entice him into your pulsing hole. “Patient, my darling. Tell me how badly you want me.”
His ego pushes forward, its presence heightened by the cocky eyebrow he raises at you. You clench your fingers into fists, too far gone to be above begging and both of you know it.
“Please, sir,” you whimper, tossing your head back as he continues to apply a teasing pressure to your weeping cunt. “Been so good for you, sir. Waited all lesson for you. Didn’t even cum.” Your voice is broken, weighing heavy with arousal. “Please fuck me. I need it. I need you—”
Before you can finish, Tom sinks into you, your flushed walls parting easily. You feel your cunt flutter as it envelopes his length completely, Professor Holland not waiting a second to start pounding into you. You cry out loudly, jaw slack and hanging open as pleasure sails across you, filling every part of you to the brim. Tom grabs at your thighs, pulling you nearer and using his grip on your soft flesh as leverage to keep you wrapped around him. Slapping sounds fill the air as he rocks into you, his crotch meeting your centre every time as you cry out.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, eyes fluttering shut. “Fits like a glove. So wet, darling. Such a tight fuckin’ pussy.”
You can’t speak, so you let out a breathless whine in response which earns you a tight chuckle from Tom.
“Mmm, too good to speak, isn’t it?” he teases. He drops a hand down to your clit and your back arches off the table as he starts to rub feverish circles to the bud. “God… Such a good girl. Taking me so well, like you were born to do this. That’s right, isn’t it? Snug pussy made just for me.”
He hits every spot exactly like you crave, cock filling you completely. You’ve been edged and teased for so long that the slightest touch would be enough to set you off, and it’s as if your body doesn’t know how to process such an onslaught of sudden sensations. With every rut of his hips against yours, you get closer, his member catching slickly against your walls in the most delicious ways. As Tom’s fingers continue to wrangle your clit, your vision blurs with tears of enjoyment.
“Gonna cum,” you manage, voice thick. You’re shaking, writhing on the table, and if he wasn’t gripping your thighs so firmly, you know you’d be trying to move away from such an intense source of pleasure. It’s overwhelming, but you crave it, and when Tom drops his head down to suck at your neck, you cry out.
“Go on, sweetheart,” he groans, voice hoarse against your ear. “Let go. Let me feel how snug this cunt gets for me, darling. Want you to make me cum.”
Your legs clamp around his back as you finally spin over the edge, your eyes rolling into your head as your back falls against the desk. Your climax sweeps over you, blending with your moans and Tom’s low grunts as he picks up his pace and thrusts faster. Your eyes find the point at which your bodies converge, and the sight of his cock pounding into you only extends your enjoyment.
He follows suit a few moments after you, spilling into you with a loud cry of your name. As his lips speak such a familiar word, the inflexion makes you clench, your pussy constricting around his cock and causing Tom to groan louder. He doesn’t stop railing you into the desk until both of you are spent, at which point he pulls away and leans up to connect your lips.
A smile spreads across your lips as Tom kisses you, his mouth infinitely more gentle than he’s been with his hands. You sit up to meet him, your legs shaking against the desk. As you loop your arms around his neck and sink into his lips, he continues to kiss you, breaking up his long snog into a series of lighter pecks.
“Did so good for me, my darling,” Tom mumbles against you. He’s stroking your back with a warm hand, his breathing ragged but slowly recovering. When he pulls back, he stays near, the tip of his nose pressing to yours. “Are you okay?”
You hum softly, shivering a little when Tom kisses the tip of your nose. “Perfect,” you reply. “Bit thirsty, though.”
He frowns, the expression darkening his face. Tom leans closer to kiss your sore cheek, lips lingering there for a few moments as he hums.
“Let’s go,” he suggests. “I’ll take you home. Run you a bath, make you some tea. I’ll look after my girl.”
You pout softly, your heart clenching. “Okay,” you reply. He helps you down from the desk, his hands quickly curling around your waist when your knees threaten to buckle. As he chuckles, you shoot him a glare. “Don’t laugh at me,” you whine. “It’s your fault I’m like this!”
Tom nuzzles his nose to yours as he plants a final kiss to your lips. “Mm, I know,” he growls. “I’ll repay the favour later.”