My New College Professor Pt. 03

*Everyone in this story is 18 years of age or older.*

A half-hour later, I was walking down the hall toward Professor Avery's office. The door was ajar and a soft glow of warm light spilled from the opening. I took a deep breath, two deep breaths, and then knocked.

"Come in," said a deep voice.

I pushed open the door and gingerly stepped into the office. Immediately I noticed a rather large, imposing, dark desk reminiscent of walnut or mahogany. Various papers and folders lay neatly in trays across the top. Professor Avery sat in a large desk chair behind it, his face illuminated by the two computer screens at which he was looking. The screens reflected off a pair of sleek, simple glasses settled high on his nose. Something about the sleeves straining against the mountains that were his biceps coupled with him in glasses made my breath hitch in my throat. This man really seemed like the whole package.

Professor Avery glanced at me briefly. "Good evening, Mr. Johnson. Have a seat," he murmured, seemingly distracted by whatever he was looking at on his computer. I sat in one of the two plush chairs on the other side of the desk fidgeting with the hem of my rowing t-shirt under the desk. It turns out that jerking off while imagining this man burying his massive cock in me did not have the calming effect I'd hoped for.

After a few more clicks and one small sigh, Professor Avery removed his glasses and turned his attention to me. "So," he started. "How has the new year been so far?"

"It's gone well, so far, sir," I replied timidly. He nodded.

"How well did you do in your coursework last year?"

"I think I did well. I ended my freshman year with a 3.7 GPA while I was on the rowing team."

"And were you always so distracted during your classes last year?"

Oh. Right to the point. I gulped nervously before responding, deciding to answer as honestly as I could without coming off as a creep.

"I... was not, sir," I murmured. Inwardly, I cringed at my own meekness. This was not me; I have never had a problem with confidence. Or confrontation. No one has ever made me as unsure of myself as Avery did. Suddenly, I was overthinking every move I made, every word I said in his presence, and it was making me look weak. Pathetic.

"What changed this year?" he asked, wearing a genuinely curious expression that looked a bit out of place on his larger-than-life frame. It helped me relax minutely, this slightly softer version of him. For the first time since coming in here, I looked him in the eye.

"I'm not sure, sir," I said softly but without stutter. And that was at least partially the truth. I mean, I know that it's him that distracts me, that haunts my thoughts nearly every minute of the day since first stepping into his classroom, but I still don't know why he has that effect on me. Professor Avery leaned back in his chair and placed his hands in his lap, his pecs pushing forward and stretching his shirt to what had to be its breaking point. I could clearly see the outline of his nipples, and a brief flash of me running my tongue over them played in my mind. For fuck's sake, I groaned internally.

"I think you do know, Mr. Johnson," he said. His expression was neutral, but the weight of his words felt monumental. I felt my heart flutter uncomfortably in my chest, forcing my breath to catch in my throat. Professor Avery stood slowly and came around to my side of the desk and sat on the edge facing me. His bulge was so close, so obvious in his tight khakis, it felt like just the proximity of it was frying my brain cells, erasing all possibility of logical thought or coherent speech.

I looked up at him, not trusting myself to say anything in the moment. His eyes bore into mine, captivating me in a way that made it impossible to look elsewhere. Whereas my confidence shrank for every moment spent near him, his seemed to grow.

"I noticed how you watched me in the locker room yesterday." I gulped involuntarily. He continued, not pausing to allow me time to argue. It would be a lie anyway, and we both seemed to know it. "I did enjoy the attention, actually."

A million thoughts raced through my head. Did he just admit that he liked me watching him?

"But, Mr. Johnson, at the end of the day, you are a student, and I am your professor."

My heart dropped. I never even expected this conversation to happen, yet disappointed flooded through me. A small part of me was relieved, however. At least now that he had said it--that I wouldn't get an opportunity to act on these wild, irrational feelings--I could get over it and move on. I nodded at the ground in silent acknowledgement and stood up to leave.

"I understand, sir, thank--"

"But that's only a problem if someone finds out, isn't it?"

I froze, rooted to the spot, hand outstretched toward the door handle. I heard the shuffle of footsteps behind me then the unmistakable feeling of a large hand wrapping around my waist. My breathing became irregular. My cock stiffened almost instantly. His other hand grabbed my shoulder and slowly spun me around until his face was just inches from mine. I could feel his breath on my face. He reached behind me and locked the door, never taking his piercing gaze off of me.

"Is anyone going to find out about this?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. I'm sure his expression was born of curiosity, of caution, but there was something mildly threatening about it. Intimidating.

And god, it made me leak.

I shook my head, nearly dizzy in anticipation. "No! I won't say anything, Professor Avery," I said hurriedly, scared he might change his mind if he sensed hesitation. His eyes darkened ever so slightly.

"You will call me "sir," Mr. Johnson," he whispered calmly, yet sternly. Another throb in my pants.

"Y-yes, sir," I stuttered. Every nerve ending was on fire. The hand on my waist grabbed me forcefully and yanked me closer, causing me to stumble. Instinctively, I threw out my hands to steady myself, landing on his rock-hard pecs. My hormones completely took over as I began to rub them, caress them, glancing between his chest and his eyes as he watched me in silence. I may be 6'1", but this man made me feel small in the best way. Like I needed his protection. His permission.

His hands slowly, steadily moved from my waist to the small of my back where he pressed me against him. I could feel his hard length on my lower abdomen, and Jesus, it was intimidating. My erection rubbed against his thigh, causing me to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. A wet spot was already forming on my jeans.

"This stays between you and me," he reiterated. "Only you and me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," I replied.

One of his strong hands left my back and grabbed my chin, tilting my face upward. He looked down at me, eyeing my mouth with a hungry look in his eyes that caused another drop of precum to stain the boxer-briefs I was wearing. After a moment of unbearable tension, he lowered his mouth to mine. His lips pressed against mine firmly, and yet there was a gentle undertone to it, as if he were giving me permission to back out at any moment. Shock coursed through my body and more blood rushed into my dick, making me so hard it was become painful. I needed release. From him.

I began kissing him back, timidly licking his lips to signal that I wanted him to push further. I wanted him to take me. To use me. To have his way with me right here in his office.

Mouth still on mine, he backed us away from the door to a couch under the only window in his office where he sat and pulled me down with him, effectively forcing me to straddle him. One hand twisted in my hair, pulling just hard enough to be insanely sexy without being painful. The other had a firm grip on my ass, inspiring me to grind on him slightly.

Same as the past few days, I had no idea what had gotten into me. A few days ago, I had only ever fucked girls. Only ever wanted to fuck girls, always wanted to be the one leading. Making them work for my orgasm. But now, with Professor Avery? The only thought that screamed in my head was that I wanted to see him undone. That I wanted to bring him to the point of no return and watch as he came undone because of me. I wanted to earn it.

So I began kissing him with a passion as I untucked his polo from his waistband and dragged it over his head. I took a moment to simply stare at his naked torso. I drank in his sculpted chest and arms, his chest hair that led down his abdomen and disappeared into his pants, the way his waist tapered beneath me. Then I began kissing his neck before I made my way to his abdomen, glancing up every so often to ensure I wasn't about to cross a line. Each time, I was met with his heaving chest and lustful stare.

It didn't take long before I was kneeling on the floor and reaching for his belt buckle. I fumbled a bit like it was my first time; my nerves had my hands shaking like crazy. But Professor Avery was patient, lifting his hips once I had his belt loose so I could yank his pants to the floor. Expecting to see a layer of underwear beneath the khakis, I was shocked when I came face-to-face with his rapidly swelling cock. He was going commando. At his work.

Dear god.

My eyes couldn't look away from his cock. It was dark, veiny, and thick with a slight curve to the right. His balls hung low underneath. He kept himself shaved close to the skin, which I didn't know I would appreciate until now. A bead of precum released from his slit, glistening on the tip of his extra thick cockhead. My peek in the locker room was nothing compared to the glorious sight before me. I stared, new at pleasing men and at a bit of a loss as to what to do next. Professor Avery read my mind.

"Grab it," he commanded, voice low and saturated with lust. I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft, my fingertips barely touching. A low hum escaped from him. Instinctively I began to stroke it, watching as I inadvertently pushed out more precum until it ran down the shaft and coated my finger.

Without thinking, I released his dick and licked it off. I did it more out of curiosity than sensuality, but Professor Avery's eyes darkened all the same. The taste was slightly salty, slightly bitter, but I knew the instant the fluid hit my tongue... I was hooked.

Professor Avery reached toward me and wrapped his hand around the back of my head, pushing me gently toward his cock. For a split second, I was unsure what he wanted. After all, I had never been in this position before, but it wasn't long before I connected what he was doing to what I had done to girls in the past and realized what he wanted from me.

He wanted me to suck him.

As much as I wanted it, there were little alarms going off in my head, like Hey! This is a penis, this is not a clit, and your mouth should not be this close to it! But all of that was silenced the instant I wrapped my lips around the head and heard his guttural moan above me. No, this is exactly where my mouth was meant to be. To his credit, he didn't move. He didn't immediately try to fuck my face but instead gave me time to adjust and find my rhythm. I lowered my mouth down his shaft slowly, stopping every couple seconds to widen my mouth and accommodate the extra thickness.

I heard him suck in a breath above me. "Watch the teeth," he murmured.

"Sorry," I mumbled around his cock.

"Try wrapping your lips around them," he instructed. I pulled back a bit and did as he said, lowering myself again until I felt his head hit the back of my throat. I gagged. My eyes water. But I was spurred on by Professor Avery's hum of approval above me. I would not quit.

Pretty soon, I found my rhythm. I could only take the first three or four inches with confidence, but I was trying. Avery rested his hand on my head, not really pushing but keeping me in place. After a minute or two, his hips started bucking upward a bit to meet my mouth, pushing a bit more of himself in me. Spit ran down his shaft and dripped down his balls.

"Use your hand, too," Avery commented. I brought my hand back up to the base, using it as an extension of my mouth.

"Oh fuck yeah," Professor Avery murmured above me. "Look at me."

I adjusted myself and looked up at him, his cock still deep in my mouth, my tongue sliding around the shaft. I could see his chest was heaving. He was playing with his nipples a bit. Pride glowed within me. I was doing this to him. This calm, cool, collected mountain of a man had his cock in my mouth and I was making him come undone. Making a girl cum never felt this good. This empowering.

He took his hand from my head and lightly slapped me in the face. Part of me felt a little degraded, and yet my cock had never been harder. I started sucking him again, faster this time, the slurping sounds filling the office. I idly wondered how soundproof this room was, but Professor Avery didn't seem to care, and quite frankly, neither did I. Not in this moment, at least.

After a few minutes of sucking, Professor Avery put his hand under my chin and lifted me off his dick. I felt its absence immediately, craving for it to be back in my throat. I looked up at him curiously, afraid he was about to say that I wasn't doing well enough.

He held my jaw firmly, taking in my confused expression. "You're about to make me cum," he started. My pride grew more and relief washed over me. At least I know I wasn't horrendous at giving blowjobs.

"Then why are you stopping me?" I asked, a hint of seduction layered into the question. He took a breath and stared at me lustfully. He glanced down and I followed his gaze. My cockhead was poking from my jeans and several inches of the waistband were soaked in precum. He jerked my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze once again. He leaned down toward me, gave me a quick, forceful kiss.

"Because now it's my turn."