This is my first story here. And it’s almost true, like most stories. Some things I had to change, but the essence is the same. My name is not important, and I’m a college professor, the guy who makes literature fun and attractive for students. I’m around 30, and I keep myself in decent shape with exercise and a good diet. I try to keep it professional with the students, I really do, but they make it quite difficult. Some of the girls flirt shamelessly in class, some naughtier with the way they cross their legs slowly or lean forward just enough, some straight-up with their choice of clothes for the day. Tight skirts and low-cut tops, showing off more than they need to. It’s like they’ve got a secret leaderboard, and I’m the prize.

On a Friday after the classes were done for the day, I was wrapping up papers in my office when there was this knock. It was Rose, an average student, a little chubby, sexy big ass if I’m allowed to say it, but trying a little too much to fit in with the hot girls. The kind of girl you take home drunk when the bars close and you want something fun and easy. So, Rose pokes her head in.

“Prof, here’s your favorite student with a proposition. I’m sure you’ll like this info.”

She sits down in the chair across from me before I can offer it and leans in close. Nice expensive perfume and that wicked provocative smile.

“It’s about my friend, Lilly, that tall brunette in the front row. She’s obsessed with you. Like, won’t shut up about how bad she needs a real man like you. Full-on crush.”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking a little.

“Sounds nice, I’m quite flattered, but I don’t know if… what about the ethics problem here?”

“Yes, you’re right! Let’s think about ethics! We both know how important it is for everybody in this college, no?”

Then she softens just a little, pushing her glasses up.

Look, I just want Lilly happy. She’s a good student, works hard, deserves some loving, and you deserve some relaxation. Take her out for a drink or something. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy it.

She winks confidently. I add that I know I can trust her, and I’m sure she’ll be quiet about it, not to hurt anyone with false rumors.

“Always.”

I thanked Rose for the info, asked her about her studies to add a hint of professionalism, and said something like, "We’ll talk later."

“Nope! Don’t tell me anything. I just passed the message.”

She hooks my pinkie with hers, hers was warm, a little sweaty, and hauls herself up, leaving me half-hard and way too excited to say no.

Over the next few days, I tested it, interacted with Lilly a couple of times just to make sure Rose wasn’t mistaken. Monday after class, I asked Lilly to swing by my office under the pretext of talking about a paper. As she stepped inside, her eyes scanned the room with a teasing smile.

“So, this is the lion’s den, huh?”

Her voice was confident and teasing as those cute hazel eyes lingered on me. Wednesday, I caught her in the hall, and I joked about a quiz, and she laughed softly and played with her hair like she was hanging on my every word. She made subtle sexual innuendos. She had a certain innocence, but not the inexperienced virgin who daydreams nervously about her first night and asks you to marry her. Rose had been spot on, now I was sure I had her wrapped around my finger.

The next week after class, I caught Lilly alone. She wore a shirt with no bra her small, perky tits brushing subtly against the fabric, and tight jeans that made her small ass look plump and inviting. Like she’d dressed just for me. I kept it professional.

“Lilly? Got a minute?”

She stepped closer and smiled.

“Yeah?”

“There’s a short story contest coming up. I think you’ve got real talent. Maybe you should apply.”

Her tongue touched her lower lip.

“Yeah? Why not?”

I dropped it smoothly.

“How about we talk it over drinks? Friday, O’Malley’s. Nothing formal.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, a slow, deliberate smile curling her lips.

“Should I bring Rose?”

A pause.

“Or just us?”

We exchanged phone numbers and worked out the details.

Friday night hit and O’Malley’s is buzzing with the usual crowd, laughter and clinking glasses everywhere, and Lilly slides into our booth right on time, looking effortlessly hot in this black tank and skirt that shows off her toned legs, dark hair loose around that sweet face of hers, small sharp nipples under the fabric with no bra, just natural and real. She’s got this quiet bombshell thing going, not screaming sexy, but fuck, you want her bad, and she leans in right away, eyes soft like she’s already giving in to whatever the night brings. Beers started flowing, and talk came easy at first. I told her about bombing my first lecture, she laughed softly and genuinely, those cute eyes lighting up as she angled her body toward me.

“I like how you run class and that sharp voice when someone’s late. The way you discipline us! It’s like you have control over everything, not just the class.”

“And you carry more fire than that quiet vibe suggests,” I said, our knees brushing under the table—her skin warm through the fabric. She doesn’t pull away, just presses closer, deliberate but easy, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My pulse kicks hard. Is this really happening? I wonder, watching her sip slowly, tongue flicking the bottle rim—innocent, but not even close. The bar noise drops a notch, the world narrowing to just her and me in this charged little bubble.

She smiles, eyes glinting with mischief, and whispers, “Careful, prof, you might get burned.”

Second beer in, my hand finds her knee under the table. She freezes for a split second, then relaxes, thighs parting just enough to invite more. Fuck, she’s into it, raced through my head, cock stirring as her fingers brush mine accidentally-on-purpose. Tension coils tight. She’s asking questions now, voice softer, eyes locked.

“So… what do you do outside class? Read alone? Or… company?”

Subtle probe, I smile as I look her in the eyes.

“Depends on the company.”

She bites her lip, blush deepening, and I feel her leg shift wider. She’s dripping already, I bet.

“How many students have you slept with?”

I chuckle low, thumb sliding higher now.

“Does it matter?”

She shrugs, blush deepening, legs shifting wider.

“I don’t know. Just curious.”

She takes a sip of beer and, without looking at me,

“Not even Kathy? That loud, fake-laughing bimbo who’s basically auditioning for your dick?”

I smirk, shaking my head.

“No one from your class.”

Her eyes narrow with a flicker, still soft, still breathy, but sharp underneath.

“Interesting! She prides herself that you did.”

She leans in closer, voice barely above a whisper, hazel eyes locked on mine.

“We’ll know when you grade her final. Won’t we?”

“You stand out in the best way. Don’t worry about her.”

She glances at her watch, voice soft and yielding.

“It’s getting late…” she says with a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

 I nod. “Would you like to go dancing? Or… any other preferences?”

She gets suddenly enthusiastic, as if an idea struck her mind. “I want to see your home library. What books do you read? All the classics, or are you a bad boy and collect trashy erotic lit?”

“You’ll be surprised,” I said and went to settle the tab quickly.

My loft’s not as luxurious as I’d like, but I keep it spotless, warm, and inviting: a low leather couch still holding the day’s warmth, a big king bed draped in expensive sheets that gleam soft under low, sexy lights, soft pillows artfully scattered, city lights striping the blinds in shifting gold. The air carries soft, discreet perfume from a nice potpourri. I pour us wine, put on some low, slow music. She’s standing there all soft and expectant, then tilts her head, eyes flicking up, concerned but sweet.

“Is… something wrong?”

I chuckle low, stepping close.

“Nah, all good. Better than good.”

She bites her lip as she seems to browse through the books in my library.

“I expected you to just take what you like.”

Fuck, her voice trembles with it. That breaks me, and I lean into her and kiss her. Tongues teasing all awkward like we’re still figuring each other out, hands sliding under my shirt with her nails light on my back, we bump our heads and laugh softly into it.

“Sorry,” she whispers, and her eyes sparkle up as I ease her top off, revealing perfect little handful tits, with hard nipples. I cup one, thumb circling slow, and she sighs deep, arching gently into my touch, all submissive and yielding, while my other hand fumbles her skirt zipper twice.

“You got it,” she giggles softly, handing control over easily.

Clothes finally shed in this half-dressed tumble to the bed, her skirt hanging off one leg, me kicking shoes wrong and almost tripping us both, kissing down her neck and collarbone, soft skin everywhere, that nice face tilting back with eyes half-closed and adorable like she’s melting right there under me, whispering my name.

“Ethan…”

She’s flat on her back now, thighs parting naturally and inviting, the red lace panties I peeled off her tossed somewhere on the floor. Her wrists stay crossed above her head, pinned there by nothing but her own choice. The trim patch above her pussy is neat and dark, the lips beneath already swollen and shining, a small silver bar glinting through. I start to slide lower, hungry for the taste of her, but her palm presses firm against my shoulder and her eyes lock onto mine with a look that stops me cold.

“No licking. No worship. Just fuck me. Use me like you want it.”

The plea comes out shaky, almost broken with need. I freeze for a beat, cock pulsing at the raw edge in her voice, and we both let out a low, nervous laugh that flips straight into something hotter.

“Done,” I mutter, the word rough in my throat.

I stay above her, hook one smooth leg over my shoulder to open her wide, and grip both tits hard enough to feel her heartbeat under my palms. One hand slips lower, cups her ass, lifts her hips to meet me. I line up and sink in with a single, deliberate thrust until I’m buried to the hilt. She sucks in a sharp breath, back arching off the mattress. Her hands claw at my back, nails digging in, pulling me closer as her hips grind up to take me. I pound harder now, eyes never leaving hers, aggressive thrusts slamming over and over, fingers digging into her flesh like I own her. Her moans explode wild, breathy whimpers turning into desperate, exaggerated moans. I drag my teeth along the soft skin beneath her ear.

“You like that, don’t you, you little…”

“Oh, yes… oh, I’m your little slut. Fuck me!” she cries.

The leg on my shoulder slides off, and now both of hers snap around my waist, heels digging high between my shoulder blades, locking me in tight. My pelvis crushes against her clit in short, punishing strokes. I shift my grip, both hands sliding under her to squeeze and spread her ass cheeks wide, opening her even more with every thrust. My mouth finds the side of her neck, teeth and tongue working the skin there, hungry and rough. Her hips roll up to match every stroke, slick walls gripping, pulling me in like they won’t let go. I set a hard, steady rhythm, eyes never leaving hers, then lift one hand to push two fingers between her lips; she sucks them in, tongue swirling, lips sealing tight as I play with her mouth. Her body bows higher, tits bouncing under my remaining grip, face flushed and open, completely undone. She comes in a sudden rush, pussy clamping down in long, rolling waves that milk me hard. I drive in one last time, balls-deep, and let go, thick pulses spilling inside her while she trembles beneath me, legs still wrapped tight around my back, taking every drop like it’s the only thing that matters. I stay buried inside her and tenderly kiss her.

We collapse in a sweaty heap, her curling right into me, head on chest, like she belongs there forever. Moments later, she lifts up on one elbow, eyes crinkling with that quiet fire, voice soft and teasing.

“Professor… solid effort. B-minus. You fucked me good, but next time? Earn the A!”

And yeah, that’s why I’m posting this now. Lilly beat me to it, put her version up on here weeks ago, more fictional than truth, but each with his style.

This is my side. The real one.