Category: Erotica

All of my fantasies are control based. Even when I was in middle school, I was having dreams of being gangbanged… But I had no idea what sex actually was so I just pictured all these big guys crowding me and touching me and doing things I couldn’t see in my dream. It was like watching it from a third person perspective and I had this dream multiple times, always crying and whimpering, pleading for them to stop. But I was curious and I still am. Definitely something for the future haha. But the real story I wanna share is my teacher dreams. I always dream about studying late at a library when my professor sits down next to me. He’s an older gentleman, half bald and maybe some white hair. Typically has round spectacles to perfect that “wise old professor” look. I’m half asleep at the table, unable to figure out what in the world I’m reading. He looms over me, naturally being about half a foot taller than me, but even more with me seated. He asks if I need some help with a passage I’m trying to decipher and I agree. Otherwise I was never going to get out of that library. He sits to my left, and scooches close before leaning over. We go through a couple sentences of the reading as I glance at him through my downward gaze, basically giving sad bambi eyes and looking through my lashes. After a couple minutes of soft conversation about how the author’s tone changes throughout the first couple paragraphs, I almost jump in my seat because I feel a warm hand on my thigh. I wasn’t sure how to react. What was this? I glanced down at the hand, then up at the professor in shock. Obviously I’m the bitch who wears skirts and knee high socks with boots, so this is bare skin and it makes my heart jump. I always feel my face get warm and my heartbeat pounds in my ears. I giggle and feel my pussy come alive. It’s hard to describe what being turned on feels like in my pussy. It’s not instant wetness, not a physical twitch or pulse. More of like a soft clench, barely noticeable but enough to make me know “This is pleasure.” It’s not inside or outside the vagina but it’s like my pussy itself is receiving a pet. Just this internal feeling of “oh god I’m going under.” Hard to explain. At this point I’m so focused on this warm hand resting on my skin that I forget to talk, breathe, blink, exist. I’m in a world of feeling and it’s driving me mad. I stutter and give a slight cough, my cheeks coloring as I continue to work. I see him smile and watch me as I continue to read the sentence out loud for the two of us. After light discussion, with much breathlessness on my end from an overwhelming sense of anticipation and excitement, I start to scribble down an interpretation of the paragraph. As I write, I feel his hand twitch slight, and apply more pressure. My mouth gapes slightly and m hand trembles as he grips the middle of my thigh. His large hand circles most of my small thigh and the pressure and dominance of the action makes me quiver. I gulp loudly and can barely concentrate on writing through my lust for affection and the older man who so willingly was giving me what I wanted. Needed. He just took what he wanted and it made me shiver. He released his grip and started to slide his hand up my thigh, whispering, “Now what were you writing down, doll?” My pussy truly sprang to life as his thick voice swirled in my brain, barely being comprehendable among my emotions. I felt my tongue fall onto my lips, unable to speak and my pussy pulsed and ebbed, springing to life and half ready to take this man’s sperm and make it a baby. It was a foolish thought that lasted half a second but it made me blush. His hand reached the simple lace panties I wore and he chuckled in my ear as he noticed the dampness. I felt his warm breath on my neck and could smell the faint metallic and woodsy cologne he wore. I felt paralyzed, unable to function under this man’s aura. But as quickly as his hand had come, it left, leaving my thighs cold and lonely. I looked down at my lap, both in disbelief that this had just occurred, and disappointment that it had ended. My voice cracked as I gathered myself and started to read what I had written. My mind was racing. Was he interested in me? Did he want me? What was this? This was wrong. But why did I want it so bad? He gave me a small smirk and sat quietly before telling me, “You were always a very smart girl Katerina.” He stood up, but my eyes couldn’t follow as I stared at the book, my breathing still heavy. I thank him for his compliments and push my hands against my skirt, trying to relieve some of the aching I felt below. Slowly I bring my gaze to meet his and watch as his eyes flick to my hands before going back to mine and speaking some more. He spoke with a small smile teasing on his lips while his glasses rested low on his nose. “Would you like to review the second part of the assignment in my office?” Read more »