“Get on your knees.” My voice is thick with desire. This close I can see his eyes dilate with lust; he shakily follows my command. His glance flickers to my strapped-on cock. Mouth watering with anticipation, he waits for my command to take it into his mouth. As I nod my permission his lips circle my cock. With a hand in his hair and a thrust of my hips I am all the way down his throat. I feel the pressure from the cock against my cunt and moan with…
My delectable daydream shatters as I look guiltily up at the voice. It belongs to the very professor I was imagining moments before. His expression is impatient, not at all like the expression that is still playing on the back of my eyelids. I shift in my seat, suddenly very aware of the wetness between my legs. I feel a blush rise to my cheeks as I ask him to repeat the question.
Thus is life with a teacher fetish.
Whether it is imagining my philosophy professor on the end of my silicone cock, or my muscular history professor slamming me down on the desk and fucking me, all the while telling me what a good little whore I am, it is a real challenge to pay attention in class.
The most distracting is my psychology professor; she delights the class daily with her tight skirts and lovely ass. I spend most of the two-hour long class imagining what she is wearing underneath. My money is on nothing.
My intense fantasy doesn’t end with the act itself. I think the hottest part would be having to sit in class the next day, knowing the teacher’s cock was in your mouth the night before. I would get so wet keeping my naughty secret. I would get wetter every time the teacher blushed when I answered a question.
Oh dear, my nipples are getting hard just thinking about it.
The fact that I have never been able to act on this desire of mine makes the lust get stronger with every new quarter. I do hope someone helps me out soon – I just might explode from frustratio