Author’s Note:
This scene began as a vignette without an ending in mind (besides the fact the characters totally get it on, of course!). I believe it stands alone – if an impressionistic scene without sex interests you, please give it a look.
Here I expanded the vignette into a full story with the introduction slightly modified. This story includes collaborative writing and valuable editing from the wonderful Thebob2013. It was an absolute pleasure to write with him. The sexiest phrases are his work. Any flaws in the story are mine alone.
Please enjoy.
The last pair of students unlocked their bikes from the rack as I approached Campbell Hall. Perfect timing. I skipped up the marble steps and swung open the heavy oak door. The only sound in the corridor was the click of my flats on the linoleum. As I walked, the pencil skirt of my dress exaggerated the swing of my hips and showed off the curve of my ass.
At the open doorway, I watched the instructor erase the final marks from the chalkboard, a thoughtful expression on his face. My pulse raced in anticipation. The sight of him always had that effect on me. His athletic frame, his easy stance, his confident hands.
"Professor?" I announced myself. I wasn't his student, but we liked to play the game of it.
He turned, eraser still in hand. Surprise filled his eyes as he pored over the slender curves of my body. "What are you doing here?" he hissed. But the warning in his voice was mixed with desire.
I moved to stand mere inches away, almost touching but not quite. "I've always wanted to fuck in a classroom," I said.
For a long moment those beautiful, soft brown eyes gazed into mine. Then he glanced away: first at the clock on the wall, then at the stack of papers on the table, then over my shoulder into the hall. Finally he focused back on me with a grin. "Lock the door."
I moved for the door, knowing his eyes would follow the sway of my ass as I crossed the room. I pushed in the lock and closed the door soundlessly. After a step to the side, I was hidden from the window in the door.
The instructor had followed me to the door. With a hand wrapped around the back of his neck, my palm tickled by the short hairs, I pulled him closer until his body pressed mine against the wall. His warm mouth opened onto my lips and I took in the taste of tea on his wet tongue, a mixture of bitter and sweet. As we broke the melting kiss I couldn’t resist teasing him, "Please, Professor, isn't there anything I can do for an A?"
He shook his head in a silent laugh at the trope. With a wide smile, I slowly inched the hem of my dress up my toned thighs. I watched the bulge in his khakis grow at the display. When the skirt was crumpled up around my hips, his lips parted in admiration at my red lace panties, ones I knew were his favorite. His eyes locked into mine and finally he moved in. I shivered as he slid his hand underneath the lace and brushed the freshly trimmed hair down the center of my slit.
His fingertips briefly dipped in the wetness of my pussy then moved back up to focus on my clit. I breathed out heavily as he started to rub me, fast and gentle, my free hand squeezing his shoulder to communicate the pleasure that I couldn’t moan in such a public place. He sped up, his hand a blur on my clit, and his warm breath combined with mine in a pulsing cloud of shared desire. I came quickly, leaning against the wall with weakened knees, unable to do more than cling to him as the climax overtook my body.
Another long moment of poignant eye contact. His eyes burned into mine. We were both ready.
I dragged a chair to our hidden little nook while he unbuckled his belt. Straddling over his naked, muscular thighs, my long legs were almost fully extended to keep the tip of his cock barely touching the entrance of my pussy. With one hand I pulled my skirt up farther while the other held the lace panties to the side. I lowered myself down onto his cock, surrounded by the faint smell of chalk on his hands as they ran through my hair. Our mouths opened wide in the soft pleasure as my pussy slowly enveloped him. Two, three long strokes like that until his dick was coated in my cum.
The chalk smell vanished as his hands moved down my curves in the dress and gripped my waist where the hem was stuck to my tight stomach. "Just fuck me." His voice was barely audible, I read his lips more than heard his whisper. Gripping his shoulders for balance, I rocked my hips into his, using all the muscles in my legs to impale myself on his cock. The ridge of the head stretched my soaking pussy, the veins in his shaft rubbed my walls. Aside from sudden gasps and tacit moans, the smacking of his thighs and swollen sack against me were the only sounds emitted from our little alcove. Added to the spontaneity of fucking in his classroom… I was already close to a second orgasm.
His hands tightened on my hips. With easy movements he took over the thrusting, arcing his hips up with a fervor that matched the illicitness of our public setting. The smell of our sweat and my wetness mixed together as he pounded me, our enjoyment making the scene even more taboo. His eyes glittered with an amazement but also a fire; he was thrilled that I had surprised him but he intensified his glare with each forceful push into me, showing me he had to make both of us cum. I was on a level I had never been before, a place so quick and passionate that all I could do was submit and help him.
A low growl emanated from him as I bit my lip, my dark pink lipstick contrasting with the white of my teeth. It was one move that always drove him wild, that always pushed him towards the edge. My eyes flirted up to his before trailing back down to watch his thickness slide in and out of me. Had it always been that big? Had he always used it so well? That summer afternoon every sense was heightened.
"I'm gonna cum," it was his whisper, but my entire body agreed. As he staggered with his final thrusts, my warmth melted into his and finally burst forth in spasms that shook my body. The clenching of my walls made him feel even thicker. My back arched away from him, every nerve lit with pleasure. His fingers dug into my skin as he filled me up without reserve, the fire in his eyes ebbing away and replaced with relief and satisfaction.
Soon the only sound was our panted breathing as we descended from that shared high. Despite the danger of being seen, I remained in his lap to kiss with a tender, spent passion. Then with his help I stood up on trembling legs. We returned ourselves to some semblance of the professional images we’d shed just minutes before: straightening our clothing, brushing off trails of chalk dust, calming our racing hearts.
Though the campus was deserted in the summer, I couldn’t risk spending more time in the classroom. On my way out, I turned at the door for one last look. The instructor’s smile was wide as he shoved the stack of papers into his bag. I slipped out into the empty, quiet corridor with a satisfied sway in my hips.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/28to43/summer_session_redux_fm_classroom_quickie_collab