The Professor's Dirty Lessons (4)

Chapter Four –

Avena's POV

I was still in a daze when he gripped my hips, pulling me into his lap, and positioning me over him. The head of his cock pressed against my entrance, and I held my breath.

He didn't push in yet. He just held me there, teasing me while he picked up my proposal again.

“Theoretical framework”, he said, scanning the page. “You've chosen a post-structuralist lens, but your analysis means toward critical theory. That's a contradiction”.

Know what else was contradicting?

Him placing me on over his cock but not fucking me, but instead, treating it like a thesis supervisor.

I opened my mouth to say something when he lowered me onto his cock, making me cry out as he filled me, inch by inch.

“Ohhhh Fuck!”. I cried. He was impossibly deep.

He groaned low in his throat, taking a nipple in his mouth. He sucked on it, circling his tongue over it, and grazing his teeth lightly, sending jolts through me.

“Mmm…”. I closed my eyes and threw my head back.

He moved to the next nipple and did the same thing. He groaned when he withdrew and I looked at him, but his eyes were on the proposal again.

“Fix this inconsistency”. He lifted me slightly, then lowered me again slowly. It was agonizing. “And your citations are sloppy. Page numbers missing in half the references”.

Each word he said was punctuated by a thrust. He gripped my waist, fucking up into me with measured precision, his rhythm matching the cadence of his critique.

“Uhhhh yeah. Ohhhhh…..ahhhhh. Fuuuuck. I'm gonna break, profe—.

“Noah”. He corrected in a growl. “And no, you're not going to break, at least not until I tell you to”.

“Tsssss. Yes. Right there. Yessssss”.

“This…line of argument…is weak…”. He drove deeper, harder, and I clung to his shoulders. “But this”. He slammed into me, his voice breaking. “This I approve”.

He sped up, his breath coming faster as his hand slid up to grip my hair. I rode him, my hips moving in desperate circles while his chair creaked beneath us.

The coil inside me tightened until I couldn't hold back. “Please”, I gasped. “Please, I'm —”.

“Look at me”.

I met his eyes and he thrust once, twice, and then I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me while my body convulsed around his cock. I leaned into him, my hands wrapping around his neck while my pussy continuously clenched around him.

“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!”. He kept moving in and out, riding out my climax, while chasing his.

Then he suddenly pulled out, guiding me to get up his lap and kneel in front of him. He stood, his cock slick, glistening and inches from my face.

He fisted himself, stroking fast. “Open”.

I opened my mouth and he thrust inside, instantly flooding my tongue with the heat of him. He groaned, his hips bucking and then he came, hot cum painting my throat.

I swallowed, desperate to take all of him, even then I gagged, my hands gripping his thighs as he emptied himself into me.

He pulled out slowly, breathing hard, and I just stayed there on my knees, lips swollen, while cum trickled down my chin. He looked down at me and his expression softened for just a moment.

“Your proposal shows promise”. His voice was rough. “We'll need another session, tomorrow”.

He bent down, wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb, and smiled.

“Wear something easier to remove".