Chapter 167 Fuck Me, Daddy Professor
Fuck, I’d been dripping just sitting there. Professor Hale was handing back papers like it was nothing, but I could feel his eyes snag on me every time he passed a desk. That slow, burning look. The one that said he knew exactly what I was doing. I crossed my legs extra slow when he got to mine, letting my skirt ride so high the lace tops of my thigh-highs peeked out. No panties that day. Just bare, slick skin and the cool air kissing my swollen clit. I’d edged myself in the bathroom stall right before class—three fingers deep, imagining his thick cock instead, stopping just before I came. Now I was throbbing, desperate, and loving every second of the torture.
He dropped my essay with a controlled flick. Red ink screamed “D-” across the top. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper and looked up at him through my lashes, all innocent pout.
“Office hours,” he said quietly, voice like a warning shot. “Now.”
The rest of the class filed out. I took my sweet time gathering my stuff, bending over to pick up my pen so my skirt flipped up and flashed him my bare ass for half a second. I heard his sharp inhale. Good. Let him see how wet I was, how my pussy lips were glistening just from his voice.
I followed him down the hall, hips swaying, heels clicking loud enough to echo. A couple of grad students passed us—two guys who glanced my way, then at him. I smiled sweetly at them, then brushed my fingers along Professor Hale’s sleeve when no one was looking. He tensed but kept walking. The risk made my nipples tighten into painful little points under my thin sweater. No bra again. They were poking through like they were begging for his mouth.
He unlocked his office. I stepped inside first, deliberately letting my ass graze his crotch as I passed. Hard. Already half-hard. Fuck yes.
The door shut. The lock clicked.
I didn’t sit when he told me to. Instead I hopped up onto the edge of his desk, legs spread wide, skirt bunched around my hips. My bare pussy was right there—pink, slick, swollen lips parted just enough to show how ready I was. I leaned back on my hands, tits thrusting forward, and gave him my brattiest smile.
“Oops,” I said, voice all sugar and sin. “Guess I forgot my panties again. Bad girl, right, Professor?”
His jaw clenched so hard I swore I heard it crack. He didn’t move closer. Yet.
“You think this is a game, Lila?” His tone was low, dangerous. “Failing on purpose. Dressing like a little slut. Flashing your dripping cunt in my classroom where anyone could see. You wanted attention that bad?”
I tilted my head, twirling a lock of hair. “Maybe I just wanted yours. Maybe I wanted you to stop pretending you didn’t notice how wet I got every time you said my name. Maybe I wanted you to bend me over this desk right then and spank me until I cried… then fuck me so hard the whole hallway heard.”
His eyes flashed dark. He stepped between my legs, close enough that his hips forced my thighs wider. I could feel the heat rolling off him, smell that clean cedar-and-man scent that made my mouth water. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat—not choking, just holding. Firm. Possessive.
“You were pushing every fucking button, little girl,” he growled. “Keep it up and I wouldn’t wait for office hours to end. I’d hike that skirt higher, spread you open on my desk, and eat this bratty pussy until you were screaming my name loud enough for the dean to hear. Then I’d flip you over, spank that ass raw, and stuff my cock down your throat until you gagged and begged Daddy to forgive you.”
The word Daddy hit like lightning straight to my clit. I whimpered, hips rocking forward on instinct, trying to grind against the bulge in his slacks. He didn’t let me. His grip tightened just enough on my throat to make me gasp.
“But first,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper that vibrated through me, “you were going to fix this paper. You were going to bring it back next week. And if I caught even a hint of you being a tease again—another short skirt, another flash, another time you ‘accidentally’ brushed against my cock in the hall—I wouldn’t just punish you in private.”
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear.
“I’d drag you into the empty lecture hall after hours. Bend you over the podium. Fuck you right there on the stage where anyone walking past the windows could see. Make you take every inch while you called me Daddy and promised to be my good little pet. And when I was done filling you up, you’d walk out with my cum dripping down your thighs, knowing the whole building might smell you on me.”
My whole body shuddered. I was so wet I could hear the slick sound when I shifted. My clit was pulsing, begging. I wanted to beg right then. Wanted to drop to my knees and suck him until he lost that iron control.
But I was too bratty for that yet.
I leaned forward, lips almost touching his, and whispered, “Promise?”
He exhaled hard through his nose. His thumb stroked the pulse hammering in my throat.
“Get off my desk,” he ordered. “Fix the fucking paper. And Lila?”
I slid down slowly, letting my body drag against his the whole way. My nipples scraped his shirt. I felt his cock twitch against my belly.
“Next time you stepped into this office acting like a needy little slut,” he said, “I wouldn’t let you leave until you’d earned every single point… and swallowed every drop Daddy gave you.”
I grabbed my bag, legs trembling. As I walked past him to the door, I paused, reached back, and gave his cock one bold, firm squeeze through his pants. Thick. Hot. Throbbing.
He growled low in his throat.
I slipped out into the hallway, heart racing, pussy clenching around nothing, already planning how much brattier I could be next week.
Because I wasn’t fixing shit.
I was going to make him snap. And when he did? I wanted the whole damn campus to hear me scream Daddy.