Chapter 61 Dirty Little Exhibitionist (2)

Chapter 61 Dirty Little Exhibitionist (2)
The heavy lecture hall doors clicked shut as the Dean left the room.
Our new professor turned his broad back to the tiered rows of students, picking up a piece of chalk and writing his name in sharp, aggressive strokes across the chalkboard.
Travis Smith.
Just reading those two words fanned the burning flames of lust already pooling low in my belly. He turned back around, dusting his hands off, and opened his mouth to speak.
“I will be your professor this semester.”
His deep, resonant baritone voice filled the massive room, sending a violent shiver straight down my spine. The sheer authority in his tone, combined with the lethal, powerful build of his body beneath that suit... damn it. Everything about this man belonged to me. He just didn’t know it yet.
Just like that, Professor Travis launched directly into his syllabus. As for me, I should have been sitting obediently with my notebook open like the rest of the brainless students in the room, but I didn’t. Instead of listening, I leaned back in my chair and slowly, deliberately, spread my legs wide open under my desk.
I stared him down with a sly, wicked smirk on my lips, daring him to look.
No matter how hard he tried to focus on his lecture, no matter how much he paced the front of the room, his eyes kept involuntarily drifting to the back row. I could see the exact moments his rigid composure slipped. He was trying so damn hard not to look down the aisle at my wide-open thighs.
But I still wasn’t satisfied.
Keeping my eyes locked on his face, I reached under my short skirt, hooked my fingers into the lace of my panties, and slowly slid them all the way down my legs. I let out a soft, sharp gasp as the cool air conditioning of the classroom hit my raw, soaking wet pussy.
Right at that exact second, Travis looked up.
His sharp gaze dropped straight down the aisle, getting a completely unobstructed view of my bare, glistening pink slit. A violent twist of shock flashed across his handsome face, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek before he quickly forced his eyes away.
Got you.
With my eyes still fixed hungrily on his face and body, my hand slipped beneath my skirt. I slid a slick finger easily inside my dripping hole, beginning to fuck myself in slow, agonizing circles while my other hand came up to squeeze my breast through my shirt.
Nothing else mattered to me. The whispers of the students, the scratching of pens on paper—it all faded away. It felt as if it were just Travis and me alone in our own twisted, filthy little world.
I thrust my finger harder, deeper, and faster. The quiet, wet, sloppy sounds of my pussy echoed faintly in the back row, and I could feel the heavy, suffocating weight of his stare burning into me every time he turned toward the board.
Suddenly, Travis slammed his textbook shut.
“Class is over.”
His voice was clipped, harsh, and breathless. I hadn’t even had the chance to cum yet before he abruptly dismissed the lecture twenty minutes early.
The students, confused but eager to leave, immediately began packing up their bags and filing out of the room one after another. I didn’t move an inch. I kept my hand under my skirt, my legs spread wide, waiting.
“Miss Lina,” he called out, his voice echoing in the emptying room.
He remained standing at the front of the class until the very last student walked out the door. It was just him and me alone now, and I had no intention of closing my legs before I finished the show I started.
“Miss Lina,” he called again, his voice dropping an octave into something dark and demanding.
This time, I responded with a loud, filthy moan that echoed off the classroom walls. The unmistakable, sloppy sound of my wet pussy being pumped by my fingers could be heard loud and clear in the dead silence of the room.
I could hear Travis’s heavy footsteps climbing the stairs of the aisle as he approached my desk, but I was too lost in the blinding ocean of my own lust to care.
He stopped, towering right in front of my desk. He stood there, looking down at my exposed, dripping core with a dangerously deadly gaze.
“Mind telling me exactly what the hell you are doing in my classroom?” he demanded, his voice thick with a rage that barely masked his arousal.
“Ha...” A broken moan escaped my lips, my hips thrusting up into my own hand. “I’m close, Travis.”
I deliberately withdrew my slick finger, letting him see how wet I was, before instantly sliding two fingers brutally deep back inside myself. I fucked myself at a frantic, desperate pace, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Saliva pooled in my mouth, a thin line of it dripping past my smirk as my thrusts went faster and faster until my body violently shattered.
I rode out the intense orgasm, my thighs trembling as I completely ruined myself right in front of my professor.
Still locking my hazy, lust-filled gaze directly with his, I slowly withdrew my soaking wet fingers from my slit. A dark, triumphant sneer crawled across my face. I brought my hand up to my mouth, deliberately parting my lips, and slowly, seductively licked my own dripping juices right off my fingers.
Travis stared at me, his chest heaving, his professional mask completely obliterated.
“What the fuck!” he breathed, his voice rough and completely unhinged.