Free cuckold community
Sign up now!
The mid-week slump felt almost too long. It was a slow start to the week but Carrie was pushing through. Her body was in a constant sense of arousal, knowing that Jason would easily be nearby and stealing glances, but that is what turned her on. They had been texting back and forth, and she knew that Rick and Emily were doing the same, but her and Jason were easily within contact each day.
Sunlight slanted through half-closed blinds and striped the cluttered desk where Carrie was pretending to read a senior thesis on Sylvia Plath. Her phone buzzed once, softly, like it was trying not to disturb her.
Jason: Morning, Professor. You disappeared after the faculty meeting this morning. Everything okay?
A small, involuntary smile tugged at her mouth. He’d lingered by the coffee urn longer than necessary, close enough that she could smell the cedar in his cologne, but he hadn’t said a word about Friday night. Not in front of anyone at least.
Carrie: All good. Just drowning in drafts. How’s the copy room treating you today?
Jason: Endless syllabi. You professors sure need a lot of them printed. You all are keeping me busy. I keep thinking about red pens and wondering if yours still smells like the vanilla lotion you wear, however.
She laughed under her breath. He remembered that? She’d only mentioned it once, years ago, when he was still her student and she’d caught him sniffing one of her marked-up essays like a weirdo.
Carrie: You’re ridiculous. Can’t believe you remember that.
Jason: Maybe. Also maybe I walked past your office twice hoping the door would be open and you’d look up.
Her chest did something warm and unsteady. She decided to be a little playful.
Carrie: It’s open now.
A pause. The three dots appeared, vanished, appeared again.
Jason: I have a stack of 230 quizzes to scan… but I could bring you coffee? The good kind from the Starbucks downstairs. Extra vanilla.
It was such a small thing, but it felt enormous. Safe. Sweet. Like the Jason she used to know before he ever had his mouth between her legs.
Carrie: I’d like that.
Jason: I’ll be there in a few minutes. 😉
She closed her laptop, suddenly aware of her heartbeat in her throat. She sat there and looked up at the ceiling. He was going g to be here. Close by to her. Alone. Private. The first time since Friday. She wanted something from this. Deeply she longed for him to give her more. She caught herself breathing heavy and a hand on her breast.
When the soft knock came, she didn’t stand right away; she let him wait half a second, just to feel the anticipation coil. She moved her hand away and softly spoke out. “Come in!”
He stepped inside carrying two paper cups, closed the door with his heel, and leaned back against it like he belonged there, making sure that it was truly shut. His hair was a little messy, tie loosened, sleeves rolled. He looked… younger in the daylight. Kinder.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
“Hi yourself.”
He crossed the small room, set her coffee on the desk, then stayed standing close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about you all weekend,” he admitted, voice low. “Not just… the obvious parts. I kept remembering how you laughed when Emily spun the bottle and it landed on you. You looked surprised you were allowed to want something.”
Carrie’s throat tightened. “I was. And it was nice to be wanted. I mean, Rick always wants me. But. Wanted by more than just him.”
He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, fingertips lingering. “I like seeing you surprised. I like being the reason even more.”
His thumb traced the shell of her ear, feather-light. She felt it everywhere as he smiled down at her. She started to speak “Jason…”
“I’m not trying to push,” he said quickly, softly. “I just… missed you today. In a normal, stupid way. And then in the not-so-normal ways too.” He let out a soft chuckle as he said this.
She laughed, shaky. “You’re dangerously good at both.”
He smiled, small and genuine. “Office hours end at 3:30 today, right?”
She nodded.
“Any chance I could sit in the back row for your last lecture today? Pretend I’m checking the projector again? Just to watch you teach. I always liked the way you talk about poetry.”
Her heart flipped. This wasn’t the cocky and sure of himself Jason from Friday night was still there, but underneath was the boy who used to linger after class to ask about metaphors and metaphors only.
She thought about it for a moment and then nodded. “You may.”
Jason’s grin turned sheepish. “Thank you, Professor.”
He leaned in, pressed the softest kiss to the corner of her mouth, barely more than breath, and stepped back before she could pull him closer. Her body lingered there with eyes half shut, wanting so much more from him.
“See you at 12:20,” he murmured, and slipped out, leaving the door open exactly the way it had been.
Carrie touched her lips, tasting vanilla and restraint.
At 12:19 the lecture hall door creaked. Jason slid into the back row, arms folded, eyes on her like she was the only thing in the room.
At 1:29 she dismissed the class early.
At 1:30 the door shut with a quiet click. She looked up at the back row, alone in the lecture hall with Jason. He smiled down at her and blew her a kiss before standing. “Maybe I can come to your office again. Give some feedback on your lesson, professor.” She smiled and nodded, wishing he would come down and bend her over this desk right here, but she knew it was risky.
“Yes….that sounds like a beneficial meeting for us, indeed, Jason.”
And at 1:31 she was perched on the edge of the desk in the lecture hall, watching Jason leave with smiles on his face. She took a deep breath and walked out the other entrance and headed to her office. Carrie sat down at her desk and smiled to herself, once more studying the ceiling. The hallway outside was still busy with students laughing, printers whirring, the distant clatter of the department coffee machine.
Her eyes watched the clock. Her mind racing as she wondered when he would show up. Every person she heard in the hallway she hoped it was him. Almost an hour had passed when a knock was heard on the door. “Come in” she said as he slowly opened it and shut it behind him, in a very similar manner as before.
He didn’t speak. He just looked at her the way he had at 19 when she’d handed back an essay covered in praise, only now the awe was darker, hungrier, and entirely mutual.
Carrie stood, walked around the desk, and stopped a foot away. Close enough to feel the heat coming heat. “Hello, again, Jason,” she said, in a low voice.
“Hello again, Professor,” he answered, softer. She smiled at him. She could sense that he wanted her, and she knew deeply that she wanted him, right here, right now.
She reached up, loosened his tie in one slow pull, and let it drop to the floor. Then she took his hand and pressed it flat against her chest, right over the frantic beat of her heart.
“Feel that?” She looked up at him as he nodded. His fingers curled slowly, thumb brushing the swell of her breast through her silk blouse. Carrie exhaled, stepped in, and kissed him.
It was gentle for exactly three seconds. Then it wasn’t. Mouths opened, tongues slid together, wet and urgent. Jason backed her against the desk until her ass hit the edge and she hopped up without breaking the kiss, legs parting so he could step between them. His hands slid under her skirt immediately, palms gliding up bare thighs, stopping only when he found the lace tops of her stockings.
“Jesus, Carrie…” he breathed against her lips. She answered by reaching between them, unbuckling his belt with practiced fingers. The clink of metal sounded obscenely loud. She freed him hot, hard, already slick at the tip and wrapped her hand around him once, twice, slow strokes that made his forehead drop to hers. “I’ve wanted this since the second I walked in with your coffee,” he admitted, voice rough.
“I’ve wanted it since you texted me good-morning,” she whispered back. He pushed her skirt to her waist. She lifted her hips so he could drag her panties down and off; they disappeared into the same pocket that would later hold his tie. Then his fingers two of them slid through her folds, parting her, sinking deep. She was drenched; the sound was unmistakable. Carrie bit his shoulder through his shirt to muffle her moan as he fingered her softly.
Jason curled his fingers, stroked once, twice, then pulled out and replaced them with the blunt head of his cock. He paused there, eyes locked on hers.
“Tell me that you want me,” he said. She answered by rolling her hips forward, taking the first inch herself. Both of them shuddered. It felt like torture but he pushed in further. She was a perfect fit, hot, clenching around him in pulses. When he was fully seated he stopped, forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“You feel…” He couldn’t finish. Carrie flexed deliberately, and he groaned, hips jerking. She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.
“Take me, please start moving,” she whispered. And he did. Long, deep strokes at first, letting her feel every inch. Then faster when her nails raked down his back under his shirt. The desk creaked beneath them; a stack of ungraded papers slid to the floor in a soft avalanche. Neither cared. Jason slipped a hand between their bodies, thumb finding her clit, circling in tight, perfect circles. Carrie’s head fell back, exposing her throat; he started to kiss her neck softly and making her moan.
She came first sudden, hard, pussy clamping down so tight he had to grit his teeth to keep from following her over. Her cry was muffled against his neck, thighs shaking around his hips. She felt him start to tighten and tense and she knew he was close as he continued to pump away. She was on the pill, and wouldn’t have cared if he blew his load inside of her.
But he pulled out at the last second, fisting himself, stroking once, twice, and spewing in thick pulses across her lower belly, right above the bunched fabric of her skirt. The sight of his release streaking her pale skin made him groan her name like a prayer. They stayed locked together, panting, foreheads touching. After a moment he grabbed tissues from the box on her desk, cleaned her gently, reverently, then kissed the spot he’d just wiped.
Carrie laughed, breathless and fond. “So I guess, I gave a good lecture then.”
He chucked. “I gave you high marks,” he murmured, tucking himself away, buckling his belt with still-shaking hands. He picked up her discarded panties, smiles and tucks them into his pocket. “I will keep these, as a souvenir. I want you bare under that skirt for the rest of the day, thinking about how I feel inside you.”
She shivered, nodded, and pulled him down for one more slow, filthy kiss that tasted like both of them. “Yes, Sir,” she said as she looked up at him and giggled.
“I kind of like the sound of that, Professor”
He straightened her skirt, smoothed her hair, then headed toward the door slowly before stopping and turning. “See you at faculty meeting tomorrow?” he asked, voice steady again, eyes dancing.
Carrie leaned back against the desk, legs still jelly, and smiled. “Yes, but I hope you bring me another coffee”
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.