Her Dirty Professor(20)

I drill firm and fast into her until she’s writhing and cussing and begging for more. I lift her up and pin her to the wall, thrusting hard and fast. Her orgasm detonates. Her tight cunt muscles clamp down on my dick until it feels as if she’s going to cut off my circulation.

“Jesus Christ,” I say as she milks my cock with her pussy until I explode inside of her.

My muscles turn to mush, and she slides down the wall. I stay inside of her as her legs release me from their grip around my waist. I just want to roll up next to her, hold her, and not let her out of my sight so she can’t escape again. But it’s only a matter of time before a straggling student makes their way back to my class with a question about their assignment. We can’t stay here. Being with her in this room was reckless. It shouldn’t have happened, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Regretfully, I pull out of the warmth of her wet, succulent cunt.

“Go out with me this weekend,” I say as I watch her get dressed.

She looks at me like she’s confused, as if my words don’t make any sense to her. “Go out?” she says with a laugh. “You mean, like on a date?”

“Yes, like, on a date.”

“Are you insane?” she says, but I can tell she’s seriously contemplating it. “What if someone sees us?”

“We’ll leave town. There’s a restaurant I like to go to once in a while about a half hour from here. It’ll be fun.” When I see the doubt still lingering on her face I say, “It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall. No one will ever see us.”

She’s quiet while she slips on her bra and shirt, thinking. With a long sigh she says, “As long as you’re sure no one will see us.”

“It’ll be fine,” I say.

“Okay.”





Chapter 7


Georgia




I can’t believe we did it right there in his classroom. Things are getting out of hand. Serena knows about us. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of the school does, too. I doubt someone like her will keep it to herself for long. What does she care about grades or getting into a good graduate school? Her parents are probably alumni and she has a free ticket as long as she passes.

The next day in chemistry, Loche is late like usual. My eyes fall immediately to his empty desk when I walk in the room. My gaze lingers there until laughter around me grows loud enough to get my attention. When I look up to see what all the laughter is about, my heart squeezes as if it’s being wrung out, and my breath lodges in my throat. Tacked to the walls, covering every inch of blank space, are 8x10 glossy still shots from the porno Loche was in. Blown up big enough to see his face and other bits too. Full-frontal.

No.

Serena and Chad sit on top of their desks, smiling and admiring their handy work.

No, no, no.

I drop my backpack and immediately start to tear down the photos, crumpling them into one large ball. How could Serena be so cruel?

She comes up behind me. I smell her perfume and know it’s her before she even speaks. The room starts to close in on me. “What, you don’t like my art project?” she says over my shoulder.

I turn around to face her. It takes all the willpower inside of me not to punch her smug face.

“Why are you such a bitch?” I say, spitting the words at her. “This is someone’s life. He’s not some plaything for you and your minion to tear apart.”

“That’s precious,” Chad says, examining his nails as if he’s already bored with the show. “She’s standing by her man.”

Other students, getting only bits and pieces of the whole story, start to whisper about my involvement.

I’m like a tornado spinning through the room, reaching, grabbing at photos, pulling them into my vortex. My classmates watch me, doing nothing to help. How can they all be so callous toward such an amazing teacher, one who puts up with a lot of bullshit from a lot of ungrateful, trust-fund assholes?

I’d hoped to have all of the pictures down by the time Loche got back to the classroom, but no such luck. He walks in, holding his leather satchel that he always has with him full of our assignments. He shaved. It gives him a completely different look, one that is more GQ than mountain man, but I like both looks equally. At this point I think I’d find him beautiful even if he grew out some gratuitous biblical beard. I want to go up to him and touch his skin, but, of course, there are more pressing matters at hand.

His eyes skim the rows of photos I have yet to take down. He doesn’t look scared or upset at all—maybe somewhat surprised, but only a little. He does nothing to try to take the rest down. If it were me and those were my naked photos everywhere, I would flee and never return, maybe have myself committed somewhere so no one would ever see my face again. But Loche just stands there. His gaze searches the room until he finds me in my corner, a large wad of paper in my hands and tears in my eyes.