On My Knees, Daddy: A Steamy Compilation of Erotic Stories

A Slut For My Professor (3)

"Good girl" he teases.

For the first time, a rush of fear sweeps through me and I stiffen. The ache between my legs intensifies and I whimper.

"We'll do this again. I'll fûck you with my fingers, and I want you to lick off everything. Do you understand?"

Something about the way he dominates me only makes the ache worse.

"Y-yes" I nod, slighting parting my legs, and exposing my glistening, wet pûssy lips to him.

He smirks. I don't know what's wrong with me. I should feel ashamed but I'm not. Instead, I throb with need. My body shakes as I crave his cóck.

Without another word, he slides two fingers into my soaked cûnt, twisting expertly and I can't help the loud gasp that escapes my lips.

"Oh...fûckkk" I moan.

"You're such a slût." He smiles.

I nod, "I am."

"Now, it's time to taste your juices. Ready?"

I nod again as he drags his fingers back up to my lips.

This time, I don't hesitate. I grab his wrist and suck, tongue sliding between his fingers. I see the corner of his mouth twitch with approval as I coat them with my saliva. I hear him chuckle low in his throat, satisfied.

Then, without warning, he yanks his hand away and dives back between my legs with skilled fingers. I glance around and I noticed we're still alone. There are no cars, no people. Nothing but open road and my desire to feel his cóck in me.

Screw it!

I slip the sleeves of my dress off and let the fabric fall down my chest, freeing my breàsts. My hands move to them and I squeeze and stroke my nîpples. Soon, I'm lost in the heat of the moment. I moan helplessly as he leans close to my clît and begins to flick it...faster. His expert strokes feel like he's playing an instrument only he knows how to master.

Out of all my craziest fantasies, I had no damn idea that I'd ever end up being fingered by my professor on a lonely street. His fingers still flick in and out of my pûssy. Soon, I'm grinding hard against them.

And then it hits me. My entire body tenses and explodes in the most intense orgasm I've ever felt. I cry out and arch my back. My thighs clench and I begin to see stars. It's overwhelming, so much that I nearly black out.

When I finally come back to myself, the car rolls to a slow stop in front of a large house. It's not quite a mansion, but it is easily ten times the size of my little apartment. The automatic gates close behind us with a quiet hum.

I blink, still catching my breath, and look around. We're surrounded by acres of farmland and there's not a soul in sight.

He turns off the engine and looks over at me. "Stay still. Don't even think about fixing your dress."

I glance down to see that my breàsts are still exposed, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He gets out of the car, the bulge in his pants impossibly obvious now.

He walks around and opens the door on my side. "Come on out, Ms. Kristen. No one's going to see you out here," he says, holding out his hand.

I take it and step out, still breathless. As soon as I'm on my feet, his lips crash into mine without any warning. There's no gentleness.

Rather, he devours me. Our mouths clash, and our tongues tangle in a wild, desperate kiss. He wraps his arms around me and spins me, pressing me flat against the hood of the car. The evening breeze grazes my bare skin, making my nîpples tighten. I should feel exposed, vulnerable even but I don't. Not with him.

Somehow, despite how out of control everything is, I feel... safe. Professor Cassian's touch is confident, like he knows exactly how to make my body respond.

His hand moves from the small of my back to the curve of my neck. He pulls me to him, his breath brushing over my lips. I'm pinned against the hood of a car, half-naked, completely under his control and yet I've never felt more relaxed. Or more wanted.

He finally pulls back, leaving me breathless. I pant, staring at his tan skin, the slight stubble along his jaw, and the way his dark hair falls effortlessly into place. He runs a hand through it before speaking.

"First rule, Kristen," he says firmly. "When you're in my house... you wear nothing unless I tell you otherwise."

A chill of fear passes through me and my breath catches. "You mean... even outside?" I ask, "Like... in the garden?"

He gives me a look that makes my stomach twist in the best way.

"Yes. The garden, fountain, anywhere within the walls of this premises. Is that a problem?"

"No, professor..." I say.

He frowns. "Cassian," he corrects with a low and commanding tone. "Don't make me repeat this instruction again. You must never address me as a professor outside the lecture hall. Not here."

I swallow. "Yes, Cassian."

"Good. Now undress."

"Yes, sir," I whisper.

I peel off what's left of my clothes. My heart races as I stand there, completely bare under the open sky.

Professor Cassian doesn't rush. He runs his fingers from my forehead, down my nose, tracing a line to my throat. When he reaches my chest, he grabs my left bóob and rolls my nîpple between his fingers, sending jolts of sensation through me.

I gasp. "Oh... God."

He doesn't stop. His hand trails lower, past my navel, down to my center. Without warning, he slides a finger deep inside me. I tremble as he growls against my ear.

"This," he says, moving his finger slowly inside me, "belongs to me. No one else. Understand?"

He pulls his finger out and brings it to his mouth, licking it clean. I look down, embarrassed by how turned on I am. But he grips my chin and forces me to meet his eyes.

"Don't look away," he says, "There's no room for shame here. You give yourself to me without hesitation. Do you understand that, Kristen?"

"Yes, sir..." I answer, though a part of me still isn't sure I can.

"We're not doing this here," he says as he takes my hand. "Not tonight. Let's go inside. To the dungeon.

Before I can fully grasp what he's said, he's already leading me into the house, as his hand cups my ass.

We walk into a wide hall filled with elegant wooden furniture. The far wall is made entirely of stone, giving the room a vintage, almost medieval feel. A staircase winds down to the right, and I shiver, guessing it must lead to the dungeon he mentioned.

"We won't go there yet," Cassian murmurs, tapping my ass lightly.

Then he lifts me into his arms as if I weigh nothing. I rest my head against his chest, feeling safe even though I know what's coming is anything but gentle. He turns down a hallway, then into a dimly lit room with a single bed at its center. He places me on the bed and starts undressing.

He undresses, peeling off his shirt to reveal a sculpted chest. I can't help but stare as he strips away the rest, joining me under the sheets.

"Tell me, Kristen. Has anyone fûcked you before?" He asks, and my blood runs cold instantly!