Submitting To Professor Kent Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Submitting To Professor Kent Ch. 02

I sat in class and felt Professor Kent’s eyes weighing on me like a pair of boulders pressing on my shoulders. If I could get away with it without drawing more attention to myself, I’d have ducked under my desk for the remainder of the class until he had left. The tension I felt alone was nearly unbearable. What made it worse were the hundred other students piled in their seats to the left, right, and before me, completely oblivious to the looks he gave me in passing or the torturous feeling I had inside me.

“Now, what this leaves us with is a dichotomy of thought,” Professor Kent lectured the classroom as he walked in slow and methodical circles at the front of the class, as was his way. “What is truth? Is the truth what we believe to be so? Or is the truth something else? Is there an arbitrary truth?”

I sat in my chair with my laptop open in front of me like dozens of other college kids had. My left foot was tucked into my crotch as I found myself leaning forward and grinding the crotch of my pants into the heel of my foot over and over again as I listened and dazed off simultaneously. It had been a week since I last saw him. A week since his fingers had ravaged my sex in his office.

Leaning forward, I bit my lower lip as my clitoris brushed the edge of my heel, and I felt my stomach drop. The ninety-minute class had gone on for too long for me to keep control of my needs. The first fifteen minutes of the class I was too embarrassed and ashamed to even look ...

... Professor Kent in the eyes. I felt naked, sitting before him. Every time he looked my way, I knew that he had seen me. The real me. The me with an inhaler. The me who orgasmed from a simple kiss (but was it just a kiss?). The me with soaking wet panties. In those first minutes, there was a brief moment when I considered just dropping out of college—it was all too much.

Then something changed. The more I looked at his form-fitting shirt that hugged his massive arms and watched as he pointed at the screen as he taught, I felt a stir inside me. Chewing the corner of my lip, I found myself unable to look away from his wide back or his hard chest as he moved. The lesson, mine as well, had been on mute.

Rocking imperceptibly faster on my own heel, I felt the pressure building. I knew this was wrong. The thought of Professor Kent or one of the college students to my left or right noticing me masturbating on my own heel in the middle of class like some little slut was enough to make me want to die, but I couldn’t stop. It felt too good.

God, it feels almost as good as when he abused my vagina with his rough… I thought.

I didn’t know he was like this. How rough he was with me. How commanding… No one had ever talked to me the way he had. No one had ever touched me the way he did.

But he doesn’t know the truth, Beth. He still doesn’t know the real you. Will he still want you when he knows…

The orgasm was so close. It was within reach. I rocked a small circle in my seat as I ...