The first day of class, I looked at my instructor and laughed to myself. He was the only professor at the college who was rated “hot” on RateMyProfessor.com. He was the youngest professor at the college… and yes, he was “hot”. He was the type of guy all the freshmen girls would have a huge crush on all quarter because of his looks. I was convinced he’d turn out to be the worst kind of teacher, the kind who’d give us quizzes without prior notice or refused to let us use note cards on tests.

Three weeks later I was in despair. He was awesome. He cared about his students passing. He let us use note cards. He taught us how to put everything into our calculators correctly. If everyone did badly on a test, he’d somehow make it better. That actually made me laugh… he was saving his own ass by doing that. He was honestly the best example of a professor I’ve dealt with. He did everything he could to help us.

I watched him move around the classroom with confidence. I listened to the cute noises he’d make when he dropped something, or when he made a mistake. That crestfallen look on his face when a student didn’t understand something and he didn’t know how to make it any clearer for them… It got to me. He worked himself into my brain. He was pretty to look at, yes… but his personality in the classroom was what broke me.

I was pissed at myself. I thought myself better than others… and I suppose I was, just for the fact that it took me so long. Long enough for all the other students to grow to resent him for, you know, teaching one of the most hated subjects.

I’m shy… really shy. I’ve forced myself to talk to people before, in the hopes of making friends. I’m awkward about it, but I’m honest about it, too. So I tried to sneak my way into his life. I found where his office is, just to stop by and force myself to have some kind of a conversation with him. He didn’t seem to mind. I had time to kill. I was happy he didn’t try to dodge me. I was determined to at least become friends with him.

Sometimes while talking, he seemed to flirt back. It gave me hope, and I hated myself for it. He’d ask questions that would make me wonder why he cared. I know I threw him many a coy look, savoring the bits of attention I was stealing from him. I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t subtle about it at all. When I look back on it, I hate how obvious I was.

I stalked him on FB but never had the guts to add him. I don’t know why. I think it might have speeded things up if I had. Then again, maybe going so slow was the key that made everything fall into place.

It was 2 weeks to the end of the quarter. I was heading to his office just to chat. I made sure not to stop by too often… Sometimes I would pop in just to ask him some random question I didn’t necessarily care about. I knew I was interrupting whatever work he was getting done… but like I mentioned earlier, he never seemed to mind having a break from it. He smiled every time he saw me come in. It encouraged me.

He was an adjunct professor, so he shared his office with the rest of the adjunct professors in the math and science department. The office was usually empty except for him, and it was no different this time. It was just a matter of when teachers had free time between classes, and it was actually something I had pointed out before to him. He seemed so lonely in that giant office with no other faculty members to have even a simple conversation with.

Usually, I would just wear my backpack in. This time, for some reason, I just felt like putting it down by the door. I felt nervous. I usually did, because I was shy and still worried he’d tell me to leave him alone. I was just going in to chill for a few minutes, maybe ask him how he spent his weekend. I had no problem finding random topics to get him talking before. This time, everything felt different.

As it turned out, I didn’t even get a word in.

He was already standing, which was weird. He seemed frustrated. He had his fingers laced together behind his head, and he was staring straight up at the ceiling. When I came in, he looked at me. I froze. His eyes burned into mine. I felt the energy between us snap. He looked borderline angry. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I had obviously picked a bad time for this.

I opened my mouth to tell him I’d come bug him some other time, but then he started walking towards me in an aggressive manner. By instinct I backed up, and then I was against the wall, and his lips were against mine.

My heart was already pounding, but now I felt like it had stopped because of how quickly it was racing now. I wasn’t even going to question what was going on, because this is exactly what I had wanted in the first place. I wanted this to be his idea, not mine.

He had a hand on my shoulder, pinning me to the wall. His other hand was pressed against the wall next to my head. I hesitated before putting my hands on him, because I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me. I was overthinking and I needed to stop. He was already pressing himself hard against me, but I grabbed his hips and pulled him in even tighter. He moaned and I smiled against his lips. I was doing something right.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes again. I was grinning from ear to ear, and he chuckled. He nuzzled me. That was dangerous. That was gentle, caring, as though it was something more than a desperate fuck. Everything slowed down for 5 seconds. We were still gazing at each, the smile slowly fading off my face. Don’t you do this to me, dammit! I thought. Don’t make me think you might care about me.

Then he wrapped his arms around me and spun around, slamming me against his desk, going from 0 back to 100 in no time at all.

I was wearing a skirt, conveniently, and he made use of that now. Pulling it up with one hand, he quite skillfully undid his jeans with his other hand, and pressed himself against me. We both still had underwear on, but it was such bliss. He leaned down and started kissing me again. He slowly ground himself against me, the full contact driving me insane. I was already so freakishly excited; the stimulation was enough to quickly bring me to an orgasm. It was at this point I remembered we were in an office that was not in any way private, and I strained to keep quiet.

Ignoring my own pleasure, I hastily slid off the desk and reached down. Excruciatingly slowly, though I was now concerned about being interrupted, I teased him out of his underwear. I very gently ran my fingers up and down his shaft, but paid more attention to his balls. Kissing and licking them, sucking one into my mouth and then the other, running my tongue behind and between them… I wanted him to want me even more. I continued until he groaned impatiently. I flattened my tongue and firmly ran it up his shaft, surprising him, closing my mouth around his head and pulling up off him. His. Knees. Buckled. I almost laughed. That was just the perfect reaction I’d ever wanted to elicit from a guy.

I wasn’t done with him down there, and we both paused to think about someone walking in on us. I looked up at him, the question in my eyes. He shrugged, as if to say “screw it”, grabbed my head, and shoved himself into my mouth.

I let him take control at this point, but after only a few seconds of straight up fucking my throat, he pulled out and yanked me into a standing position. He grabbed my shoulders and turned me roughly, pushing me over his desk. He pinned me down by the back of my neck and flipped my skirt up, ripping my panties down in the same movement. He did something I absolutely love; he rubbed his head up and down against me, firmly pressing against my clit. We were both soaking wet from this. Then finally, finally, he was pressing into me. Slowly his head pushed in….

He let go of my neck and grabbed my hips. I gasped as he roughly pulled me back onto him, ramming every inch into me. I threw my head back and held back a scream. Oh god, yes! I wished we were in the middle of nowhere so I could literally shriek with pleasure! He pulled back and began to slam into me faster than I could keep up with. He was pulling me towards him, and I pulled away from him, resulting in this animalistic bouncing that was anything but quiet. He didn’t slow down, if anything he sped up, thrusting into me harder and harder, cramming himself against me desperately.

I reached forward and grabbed the back of the desk just for something to hold onto, hoping against hope we could just finish before someone came in here wondering what the hell was going on. My legs were giving out. Every ounce of strength I had was being wasted on holding back the moans. He kept ramming into me, over and over, again and again and AGAIN, our bodies slapping together from how hard he was slamming into me. He stopped suddenly, and wrenched my leg up onto the desk. My knee resting on the edge, he had more room to thrust even farther inside me. He didn’t waste any time. He was hitting my cervix now, something some women can’t stand. It’s always made me that much more heated, and I came again almost instantly. Now I almost couldn’t stand him inside me from the sensitivity… I tossed my head back and he caught my neck, choking me, turning my moan into a wheeze, and continued thrusting.

Suddenly he jerked me upright. He rammed into me, HARD, and held me tightly against him. I felt him pulsing inside me, emptying himself into me. We stood like that for a full minute. I was breathing so erratically, it seemed I was sobbing. I swear everywhere he touched me was going to leave bruises, but I only wanted him to hold me even harder. He relaxed his grip, and slowly pulled out.

I pulled my panties up and sat, almost fell, on the floor. My legs were jelly. I watched as he slowly put himself to rights, and then he closed his eyes and heaved a deep, long sigh. I frowned. Did he already regret this? No, he was smiling. He looked at me, and finally spoke.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long, long time.”

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