I have one particular favorite, actually.
I have always been fascinated by intellectuals—the men who are almost intimidatingly well-read, composed to the point of austerity, and possessed of that quiet authority that seems to accompany a life devoted to knowledge. Professors, specifically. & perhaps I have always been a little too much of a teacher’s pet myself: the kind of girl who wants to remain perpetually ahead of the discussion, who takes an almost absurd amount of pride in having something worthwhile to contribute. I am confident when I have the security of a classroom around me. I can speak deliberately, challenge an argument, and make myself heard without hesitation.
But when the room grows quiet and there is no longer an audience to perform intelligence for, that confidence seems to recede. I become considerably more reserved when it's just us both, after the class is dismissed and I'm the last student to leave as I quietly pack my things.
I watch him as he moves through the room, pacing with the distracted deliberation of someone whose mind is perpetually several thoughts ahead of his words. It is simply how he thinks—how he organizes the restless machinery of his own intellect. There is something almost reassuring in recognizing that beneath his composed exterior, he is not entirely impervious to uncertainty either. Still, he carries himself with that effortless authority that makes him appear entirely in command of the room. Then, his attention finds mine and suddenly, all the eloquence I had possessed only moments before seems to abandon me.. He was standing several feet away, regarding me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher.
“Valerie? How are you feeling sweetheart? You were awfully quiet in my class today..”
I swallowed, suddenly conscious of how conspicuous my silence must have been.
“Im okay,” I said. “I'm just a little tired today…”
He studied me for a moment—not suspiciously, exactly, but rather with the attentiveness of someone accustomed to noticing what is off and what they can do to make it better.
“You're usually rather difficult to quiet.”
A faint, embarrassed smile crossed my face.
“I suppose I had an off day.”
He returned to gathering his belongings, though his attention seemed to linger.
“I missed hearing from you.. I love hearing what you have to say in my class.. You’re quite intelligent Valerie..” He approaches closer to me as he looks down at me from my desk.. The look in his eyes changed.. His gaze was both intrigued and quietly captivated.
“You’re quite beautiful up close too..”
His hand hesitates at his side, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement catching the corner of my eye. But when I look at him with those sweet, kind & innocent eyes craving his touch– feeling them quietly dilate for him.. He reaches his hand towards my cheek and caresses my face. I melt at his touch as I subtly lean into his hand. He’s in awe at the sight of how cooperative I was.
“It saddens me to see you so down, beautiful girl… If you wish, I may be of use and help you make you feel better..” He smirks as his thumb softly swipes my bottom lip.. I know everything in me should pull back.. I should’ve felt wrong about this.. It didn't feel right to do this with a much older man let alone a professor but something inside of me wanted this so bad.. I hadn’t realized how much I truly wanted him..
The air between us thickened, charged with something neither of us had named yet - but it was something fragile and electric, like the quiet before a kiss. My breath hitched. Every nerve in my body intensified but from longing so deeply it felt like hunger. He didn't speak again. He didn't need to. Instead, he leaned down slowly-so slowly I could've pulled away if l'd wanted to but I stayed perfectly still and he’d pressed a kiss to my lips– gently against mine.
Our mouths met properly, the brush of his lips growing firmer. I answered without words by kissing him back with all the pent up affection that had been building silently through every lecture and shared small talk after class… When we finally broke apart by just an inch.. his eyes searched mine again.. He didn't look guilty but as if he was tenderly fascinated and satisfied with what just happened.
His breath fanned over my lips—soft, uneven—and for a heartbeat, we just stayed there: foreheads almost touching, The clock on the wall ticked toward 6 PM. The hallways outside had emptied. We were alone. And suddenly, his hand slid from my cheek to cradle the back of my neck—fingers tangling gently into my hair—as he kissed me again. Deeper this time. It was slow and thorough—a professor’s kiss if such a thing could exist was patient yet certain, affectionate but with an undercurrent of something darker… hungrier. Like he was slowly unraveling all at once because I was here… because I wanted him too just like he wanted me… When his other arm wrapped around me and pulled me up slightly from the desk chair to meet him better—I didn’t resist.
I rose onto tiptoes instinctively as our bodies pressed closer together.. As I was now sitting on top of my desk. My legs parted naturally as I settled onto the edge of my desk, making room for him, inviting him in without words. He stepped closer, closing the space between us with quiet confidence. The hem of my skirt rode up slightly as he positioned himself right where I was most sensitive.. his body heat seared through mine and as I felt his hard cock press against my panties.. feeling my wetness this way.
“You want this as badly as I do, princess?” He spoke in a low, husky voice.
The corner of his mouth curved into a little smirk with quiet triumph when he felt it: the faintest twitch from his cock– just by hearing how excited I was to have him this way. I blushed and gently bit my lip.
“Why don't you… be a good little girl for me and let me bend you over this desk..” He caresses my cheek again as he pulls down my bottom lip with his thumb.. leaning more closer to my ear as he keeps speaking. "Letting me fuck this wet cunny until you feel better.. How does that sound for you, sweet girl?”
I let out the softest, most helpless little moan—barely more than a breath—as my lips parted in quiet surrender. My head nodded eagerly, hair falling forward over one shoulder. The pout on my face was pure desperation: eyes wide and glassy with longing, my bottom lip jutting out just slightly like I couldn’t bear another second of waiting to be touched..
“Such a pretty girl you are..” He says before he gives me one final press to my lips before pulling back just enough to shift me. With careful strength in his arms, he adjusted my position on the desk: turning me on my back as my pink striped panties got pulled down and the professor finally had his way with me…
(soft launching my nsfw writing career on tumblr for the first time haha.. & also based on a fantasy i had with one of my professors in uni… i love you all hot professors of tumblr) :3 this one is for you ;)
