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Letter to the Professor

A student daydreams about sex with her tutor.
Dear Professor,

I haven’t had time to finish my assignment, so I’m sending you this letter to explain. Hopefully, you will be understanding of my situation and, perhaps, feel kind enough to grant me an extension? I think I may need another week. You see, I’m struggling to maintain my focus, but I guess you’ve noticed that? Despite enjoying the subject and your authoritative and intelligent lectures, I am prone to daydreaming recently.

I apologise. It’s just that when you’re stood there and I’m at the front of the class, all I can think about is what it would be like to kiss your lips. I’ve thought about this a lot lately. I imagine it starting slow, sensual and hesitant but I know that it would quickly become animalistic, fast and would, naturally, lead to you stripping off all of my clothes. I can feel electrical jolts zinging towards my pussy as I write you this letter. I can feel the familiar trickle of arousal on my leg as I think about it. I don’t care about the photograph of your boring wife you keep in your wallet. Yeah, I’ve seen it. Forget about her, she can’t do the things to you that I can.

You know those moments when you look at me, and I’m sliding my pen in and out of my hot, little mouth? Well, I’m not attempting to work out the answer to your question. I’m pretending it’s your thick, meaty cock. I can almost feel it, if I close my eyes. I sweep my tongue over the end, I stroke your balls and feel you twitch and shudder. I want to taste you. I want to devour you. I want to drink down your excitement until you’ve got nothing left. I want it. I want all of it.

My skirts are getting shorter, but you know this, I’ve seen you watching my ass as I walk out of class. It takes everything I have not to stride back in and fuck you on your desk. Did you see that I didn’t wear any panties today? I think you did. Did you see my bare pussy when I parted my legs? Could you tell it was wet? It was wet for you, Professor. I touched it; did you see my fingers play there? I saw you looking. Did it turn you on? I was picturing your head there, your mouth and tongue fucking me until I came all over your handsome face, and glisten your chin with my squirts of pussy juice. Did you see that I licked my fingers? I taste good, you should come and have a sample some time, really get your tongue up there and dine. If you don’t, I’ll be upset and I might have to take your head, pull your hair and force you down there. I might have to insist, Professor. I might have to push you on to your chair and sit on your face.

Do you like my tits, Sir? They’re big but firm with fat, perky pink nipples. Do you want to rip my blouse off my body and stuff them into your fucking mouth? You can, if you like. Let me show you. Maybe you could show me your cock, which I see bulging through your tight trousers. Maybe you should push me against the classroom wall and fuck me so hard and deep that I have to beg you for mercy. Which days are you free? I want you to come hard into my tight pussy, Professor.

But then I will have been a naughty girl, putting you into such a predicament. You ought to spank me, Sir, right on the ass with your hand or with a long ruler. I’d deserve it, wouldn’t I? You should teach me a lesson; tell me to be a good little girl. I’ll whimper and say sorry, promise to be good, before reaching down to suck your cock some more. See, I think I am a bad girl at heart.

So, you see, I’ve been distracted and I can’t concentrate at all. I’m sorry that I haven’t finished my essay but I’ve been busy, naked in front of my bedroom mirror, fingering and rubbing myself until I come, thinking of you and all the things we could do. It’s your fault really. Could I please have one more week? And a dirty classroom fuck?

Yours, waiting to be yours,

Scarlett J xxx

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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