Submitting To Professor Kent Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

Submitting To Professor Kent Ch. 02

... and looking back down the road, she couldn’t even see the driveway of the next house.

Should I have told someone I was coming here? My roommates? I doubt they would care…

I pulled out my phone to send a text anyway, but before I could type a message, the door opened exactly sixty minutes from when he had sent the text. To my unnerving relief, Professor Kent stood in the doorway. His professional clothes were gone, and in place of it, he wore a black t-shirt that hugged the bulges of muscles on his chest and neck. He looked me up and down for a moment.

“Come in,” he said, leaving the door open as he disappeared inside the house.

Chewing on my thumbnail, I nearly passed out from the wave of dizzying euphoria that washed over me before I finally put away my phone and took the plunge. Stepping inside, I closed the door behind me.

The open-style kitchen, dining area, and living room were one large L-shaped interconnected room with vaulted ceilings and the walls were an inviting light gray. The canvasses decorating the walls were of Orcas, grizzly bears, and lions that were done in such a way that I questioned if my Professor might’ve been the one who took the photographs. The many pictures of international travel populating his shelves beside his couches and large-screen TV confirmed that belief.

“Can I get you something to drink?” his voice echoed from the dark wood floors to the walls.

“No, thank you,” I squeaked. My voice didn’t echo because the ...

... Professor’s footsteps from down the hall covered it.

“Very well. In here,” he said. I followed his voice around the corner and into his bedroom.

The walls were painted a dark gray in there, which looked light compared to the black comforter and pillows that covered his bed. The wall of windows overlooking the woods at the back of his property gave his bedroom a strange dichotomy of light and dark that unsettled me. Professor Kent closed the door. His footsteps thudded as he walked in front of me. Gently and graciously, he removed my book bag from my shoulders, brought it to a chair in the corner of the room, and set it down.

“Stand here,” he ordered and pointed to two black footprints adhered to the hardwood floor before the baseboard of his bed.

I promptly complied and found myself staring at the enormous California king bed in front of me. I felt small like I stood before a train that was beginning to move in my direction.

“Put your hands here,” Professor Kent pointed to the baseboard. I did and found myself slightly bent over and leaned forward. Even in my loose-fitted jeans and modest black top, I felt exposed. The part of my panties that was still damp shifted over my sex, reminding me of the fool I was.

My textbook suddenly smacked down on the mattress in front of me.

“You forgot this,” he said.

I looked down, tucking my chin and allowing my blond hair to hide my face.

“What happened today? You didn’t have a presentation. I didn’t even call on you, did ...