I’m in class, feet on desk, listening to music waiting for this new U.S. history professor to arrive. I’ve heard rumors that he’s suppose to be a dick bag. Great, new ways for me to get sent to the dean’s office. Professors treat me like crap just because I’m different from all the other students. I don’t cause trouble. I just look different. I’m not your average preppy girl. I tug on my Misfits T-shirt, impatiently waiting for class to begin.
I hear the door open. I quickly put my dirty converse on the floor. Everyone looks to see who this mystery professor is.
“Sorry I’m late everyone. I’m Prof. Fischbach. But you can call me that or Mark.”
My jaw drops. He is probably the most gorgeous hunk of man I’ve ever seen…
I am trying to concentrate through class, but all I keep looking at is his face. Those eyes. His luscious lips. His tone, muscular body. By the end of class I’m going to feel as though I need to change my panties. Every time he bends his arms his muscles flex. Every time he speaks, his deep, baritone voice makes my loins quiver. Every time he walks by, I breathe in his scent, and I melt like ice in the palm of his hand. His heat makes me melt.
My best friend Leah nudges me.
She says it loud enough for everyone, including Prof. Fischbach, to hear. Everyone looks in my direction. I wipe my face off and the desk. Prof. Fischbach looks at me with those seductive brown eyes and chuckles. I turn a fire engine red. His laugh is so adorable though. His smile made me smile. I am so going to fail this class. Yup.
Prof. Fischbach is taking attendance. Oh Jesus, that voice.
I force myself out of fantasyland for a second. “Uh, here!”
“Good golly Miss Molly! I like your name.”
Now, whenever I hear someone say, “Good golly Miss Molly!!” I want to hit them across the face with a tire iron. But, not this time.
“Thank you!” I smile big.
I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have his head between my thighs. What it would be like if he bent me over his desk and…
Tonight, I’m trying to focus on my work. But I can’t stop thinking about her for some reason. It’s unprofessional, I know, but her face. She’s so gorgeous. Her hair, her beautiful eyes, and her style in general shows she’s not like the rest of the crowd; that she sticks out. I like that in a woman. She has a lovely name too. Molly.
Her body is absolutely amazing. She’s flooding my mind with so many inappropriate thoughts right now. I can’t think of my student this way. I just can’t. I need to go to bed, get some sleep. Maybe ask her to dinner? NO! WHAT AM I THINKING? Well, she WAS gawking at you throughout the entire class, Mark…I’ll try asking her…I hope she won’t think I’m a pervert….
As I get ready for bed, my mind keeps thinking about her body pressed up against mine. I wonder what her lips taste like, what her teeth biting the sensitive flesh of my neck would feel like, what her tongue and warm mouth would feel like on my cock. I’m trying to focus on other things before I go to sleep while brushing my teeth, like class tomorrow. But I can’t. My focus is on her. It is all on her. My arousal is very obvious at this point. I whimper at the ache I’m feeling. I go and lie on my bed. I try avoiding touching myself, but that doesn’t last for very long. Maybe I shouldn’t sleep in the nude anymore. I graze my fingers over the tip, causing my heart to race even faster than it was before. I wrap my fingers around my dick, pumping it slowly, pretending it’s her doing it. Moans, groans, and her name escape from my lips. I stroke myself faster, arching my back, thrusting my hips, my toes curling in intense pleasure. My cock starts throbbing and pre-cum seeps out, warning me of my soon-to-be orgasm. I rub my cock faster and a tad harder. I moan her name out so loudly before I feel the warm liquid hit my stomach and chest. I wipe up the mess with a sense of shame, but mostly relief, and I fall asleep.
The next day, Friday, I go into Prof. Fischbach’s class early, wanting to know what the assignment is about, because I clearly didn’t pay attention yesterday.
I see him, sitting at his desk on his computer. I sigh at the sight of him. He is pretty casual today. He’s wearing skinny jeans, a black, white, and grey plaid shirt, and…converse? Good taste this man has, very good taste.
“Oh! Good golly miss Molly! Please sit! I wanted to talk to you anyway!”
I have a confused look on my face. He also looks like he is tense about something. Nervous maybe?
“Oh?” I go to sit at my usual spot, which is pretty close to his desk. He sits at a desk next to mine.
“I have to be blunt with you. You’re incredibly sexy. Make love to me.”
He picks me up, puts me on top of the desk, puts himself between my legs and bites my neck. I then hear fingers snapping in the distance. The sound gets closer and closer. Prof. Fischbach is snapping his fingers in my face.
“Molly!” I hear Prof. Fischbach saying my name, chuckling. I’m completely flustered. What just happened? Damn. It was just another fantasy.
“Molly. Uh. I just wanted to say…um…uh…how much I appreciate your individualism. You are not like the rest of the girls.”
“How do you know that?”
“Oh. I just know. Intuition I think.” He playfully winks at me. The bell rings. It’s time for class. I forgot to ask him about yesterday’s assignment. Shit.
After class, I go up to his desk. He has his head in his hands, he looks so tense, and stressed…I’m a little worried.
“Professor?” He looks up at me. His brown eyes still make me melt, even though he looks stressed as hell.
“Yes Molly?” He gives me a weak smile. I want to ask him if he’s doing okay, but it may not be my business, so I stick with my original question.
“Do you mind if I come in and work on yesterday’s assignment in here later? You know, so that if I have a question, you’re right there?” His smile becomes a little stronger as I ask him my question.
“Of course you can. I will be in here all day. Come in at any time. Also, Call me Mark please.”
“Alright Profes…I mean Mark.” I laugh, he smiles, and I walk out of the room.
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