Her Married Professor Couldn't Resist Her
Erotica One Shot College Student/Professor, Age-Gap, Cheating
“You’re looking at the assignment all wrong,” he said. His mouth was so close to my ear that I could feel his breath against my skin, and it made me want more. I wanted to push him to say more, to lean in closer, to force his body to press against mine.
He was married, and 20 years my senior, but none of that mattered. Not to me. Not anymore.
“How so? I feel like my paper articulated the piece quite well,” I said, challenging him. He would either give in, or he would have to lean in closer to get a better look.
“The point of the assignment wasn’t to show your understanding of the book. It was to show how it affected you, and the impacts of the piece and your view of the world.”
I turned my head, our lips were only inches from meeting. But I didn’t pull back, and neither did he. “I feel like I was highly impacted by the reading.”
“Well, I’ll let you re-do the assignment, and you can write about that. I want to see the human element, not just a summary of the original piece.”
“So, I should write about the lust I felt when reading it?”
I saw a hint of blush in his cheeks. “Lust?” he asked.
“Yeah, I truly believe that most of us are only working toward goals that satisfy our greatest desires. At the end, the world was better. What other needs did they have other than to enjoy each other?”
He cleared his throat. “That wasn’t a detail in the book.”
“It was implied. They didn’t just ride off into the night, and look at the sunrise for the rest of their days. They were fucking.”
“But that was never explicitly stated, so we have no way of knowing.”
Without even knowing, he fell into my trap.
“Does desire really need to be explicitly stated?” I asked. “Like, when your eyes drift during lectures to my soft thighs poking out from under my skirt, do I have to be told you’re wondering about my tight, wet pussy or do I just know that for a fact?”
“I am a married man.”
“That doesn’t mean your eyes don’t wander, and I don’t need you to tell me that you’re thinking about bending me over to know that’s what you want to do,” I said. “Do you want to see what’s under my skirt?”
