Playing Student/Teacher at the Office – An Erotic Story
It was time to show him the side of me I’ve hidden for years, I told myself as I lifted a hand to knock on the door of my husband’s office. I’ve denied myself long enough.
“Come in,” his voice came from behind the closed door and as I entered his office, I found him at his desk, leaning back in a leather chair, nose buried in a book. He glanced at me over the top of his glasses, and the surprise in those stark blue eyes send tingling excitement down my back. “Harper? Did we had lunch scheduled together, and I forgot?”
I wet my lips and strode forward, my hands traveling to the belt of my coat, untying it. I couldn’t stop them from trembling, and I hoped he didn’t notice it.
“I came here to talk about that deadline I missed, professor,” I said, my voice soft and innocent as I came over to his desk. His eyebrows were still burrowed, and he slowly blinked at me.
My coat parted, revealing the sneaky little outfit I wore underneath. If you can even call it an outfit. It was a tiny pleated skirt that barely covered my ass in the back. If I were to turn around right now, he would get a good look at the part where my thighs meet the cheeks.
And my breasts were held back by a tight white shirt that was tied around my waist, matching black lace bra peeking through the top where I left three buttons loose.
I watched his gaze as he took in the view in front of him, his eyes widening, lips parting. Could he see that it was just a cheap Halloween costume from eBay? Was I too bold coming here like this and throwing myself at him?
But as his gaze finally met mine, there was nothing but deep, electric desire in those blue eyes. He wet his lips, adjusting himself in his seat. The book slammed shut on the desk, and he rubbed his chin with those long fingers I wanted all over me.
“I see that, Miss Collins,” he said, his voice hoarse. “And what are we going to do with you? I’m afraid I can’t let you go without a suitable punishment.”
My breath hitched inside my throat, toes curling inside my heels at his words. His intense gaze never once left my eyes, and I didn’t dare look away as I walked around the desk.
I leaned my hip on the desk, giving him a good view of my long legs. His gaze traveled up my legs and stopped right where the hem of the skirt started. There were only inches of covered skin, and as his gaze lingered there, warmth pooled between my legs.
“I’m devastated to hear that, professor,” I said, batting my lashes. “Is there really nothing I could do to make you extend the deadline for me? Just this one time? Anything?”
He turned with his chair to face me fully, and I didn’t miss the way his pants were tight around his groin. The treasure that lay there, under layers of clothing, made my heart race.
“Anything, you say?” He asked. “I might be willing to grant you the extension if you can do something for me.”
“Anything, professor,” I promised, almost breathless.
His large palm traveled to my tight, my skin burned under his scalding touch. He gently dragged it up and down, caressing my skin but never moving higher than the hem of the skirt.
I bit my lip to restrain myself from moving my hips, arching my back in need of his hands to touch me higher. The small wicked smile that settled in the corner of his mouth told me that he realized what his touch had done to me.
“Good girl.” He smirked, moving his hand away and leaning back in his chair. “Why don’t you sit on the desk in front of me, right here, and spread your legs for me.”
I obliged, sliding over to the middle of the desk, so I was seated in front of him. I didn’t hesitate to spread my legs, giving him a better look under the tiny skirt of the thin strip of black lace that covered me. I was fairly certain it was soaking wet already.
The way his eye darkened with desire confirmed my suspicion. He reached a hand towards me, his fingers brushing over the wet lace and somewhat of a growl escaped his throat.
I couldn’t stop the whimper and twitch of my hips at his touch as the throbbing intensified. I could barely restrain myself from grabbing his hand and making him fuck me.
“I want you to touch yourself.” There was a challenge in his eyes, so bold and daring that my heart skipped a beat.
Harper Collins, the wife of a professor at Holton University, couldn’t have done it. Not a chance.
But I wasn’t Harper Collins, the wife, right this moment. No, I was Harper, the student who had missed a deadline and who’s going to fuck her professor for it.
Without a second thought, I moved my hand between my tights, pressing one finger over my clit. It was hot, and I gasped with each gentle tap, even through the underwear.
His eyes were now fully focused on my hand between my legs, but I kept my gaze on his face. I loved seeing the way his face twisted in pleasure and agony, the way his gaze darkened with the hazy desire that my movements were causing to arise inside him.
Heat surged through me, to my legs and my belly. Even my cheeks were burning as I slipped a finger under the lace, touching my clit without the barrier.
I lifted one leg, placing the heeled foot on one of the arms of the chair, and his gaze didn’t miss it, sliding it all the way down the length of my leg so close to him and back up to where now I have worked for a second hand in, one finger sliding in and out of me.
My mind has started drifting at some point, and I closed my eyes, tilting my head backward as I let myself drift in the warm sea of pleasure. I gasped, biting my lip as the most intense wave approached, and I was ready to meet it with huge anticipation.
“Stop.” His voice was hoarse and hard. It was an order, and I couldn’t disobey.
My hands stilled in place, the pleasure retreating slowly as I peeled my eyes open to meet his intense gaze. He clenched his jaw so hard, a muscle flared, and I moved my hands away from myself, placing them on the desk.
“Good girl,” he whispered, dragging a finger over his sharp jaw. “Now, do you know what else would please me?”
“What, professor?” I asked softly, arching my back.
“I think it would be just wise to punish you for missing the deadline, don’t you think, Miss Collins?” He rose from the chair and went around the table to the wall where a large wooden ruler hung.
It was a gift from the University for his 10th anniversary as a mathematics professor — a handmade piece of oak that he rarely took to class with him but rather displayed proudly in his office.
“Turn around and place your hands on the desk for me, Miss Collins,” he instructed, and without a word, I followed the command. The position left me exposed from the back, giving him full access to my ass and the rest of me.
He walked around the desk and stood behind me in silence. I was overwhelmed with anticipation, excitement, and a bit of shame, but I didn’t dare move nor say a word. I waited.
His hand brushed one of my cheeks, squeezing it lightly before spanking it. I hitched forward, biting my lip. Right after, another spank followed. This time instead of his hand, he used the ruler.
I gasped, heat once more surging through me, to my neck and cheeks. It stung, yet the weird feeling didn’t stop the warmth from further gathering between my tights.
“Will you be missing any more deadlines in the future, Miss Collins?” he asked, gently caressing my ass.
“No, professor,” I managed, breathless.
A chuckle. Then, another spank sending sparks of pain through me. “I don’t think I believe you, Miss Collins. You’ll have to be more convincing.”
He caressed my cheeks once more, his hands clever and gentle, soothing. I spread my fingers on the desk, arching my back.
“I won’t miss any deadlines in the future, professor,” I said, my voice low. “I promise.”
The ruler clanged on the desk beside me, and his hands were on my hips, whirling me around to face him. While I was bent over the desk, he had managed to shuck away his white shirt, exposing his sun-tanned shoulders and flat stomach. I took my time to take in the view in front of me, the view that I haven’t seen in a long time.
His hands roamed my body, sliding up from my hips to waist, finding my aching breasts. In a few heartbeats, they freed them from the tight shirt, and his clever fingers found the hook of my bra.
Once my breasts were free, he lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth. He moaned over my breast, and I moaned with him as the gentle vibrations send a wave of pleasure through me. I let him do whatever he wanted with me, melting in his arms as his tongue swished and circled around the peak of my breasts.
I could feel his hard cock pressing into my tight, and I lowered a hand between us, wishing it was inside me. As I unzipped his pants and slipped my hand inside, he stilled, drawing away from my breasts.
I wrapped my hand over his hard cock, drawing another moan from him. His skin was hot under my touch, and I moved my hand up and down his length, gripping hard, just the way he liked it.
He pushed his hips closer to me, grinding against my hand while his hands gripped my ass, pushing me into him. I gasped, the throbbing between my tights becoming hard to bear.
I needed him inside me.
With my trembling hands, I shugged his pants lower, letting his cock hang free. Without a second thought, I settled on the desk, tugging him closer to me, and he guided his cock towards the very center of me.
He grabbed my chin, lifting my gaze to his, and he kept it as he slowly slid inside me, making my whole body tremble. A crooked smile curled the corner of his mouth as he moved inside and out of me, all the time watching my face.
I was flushed, overwhelmed with emotion and pleasure, completely left at his mercy as he fucked me on his desk, first, slow and steady, later, moving rough and deep, reaching the very end of me.
I whimpered and gasped, my thighs warming up as the tension built between my legs. He gripped my hips harder, pushing me into him as he continued with deep rough strides, and I thought I was going to lose my mind.
When my pleasure found me, I could barely hold a scream inside my throat. Luckily, he clasped a hand over my mouth, stopping any sound from escaping just in time, as he held me in place while I trembled of the pleasure rolling through me in waves.
“Shh. You don’t want other people finding out about your after-school activities, now do you, Miss Collins?” he whispered over my mouth as he removed his hand, and the only thing I could hear was whimper in response.
Once I stilled, he started moving his hips once more, driving his cock deep inside me, seeking his own pleasure. But I stopped him, placing a hand over his chest.
His eyebrows rose in question as I pushed him backward, but he didn’t argue, falling back into his chair, his cock still hard. I slid down from the desk, leaving a wet streak behind me, and fell on my knees in front of him.
It’s been a while since I had him in my mouth, and as I took him inside, I couldn’t find a reasonable explanation as to why. I moaned over his cock, and his eyes rolled back, head leaning on the head of the chair.
I licked him up and down, dragging my wet tongue over his length like he was the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. My hand wrapped around his shaft, twisting and pumping as I worked the very tip, licking and sucking it until it darkened, the veins popping.
He pushed his hips up, and I took him all into my mouth, letting the very tip of him tickle the back of my throat, and he moaned. I repeated the gesture once more, his whole body tensing, and as he spilled inside my mouth, I continued sucking and kissing, the salty taste filling my mouth.
As I finally let him go, straightening my back, my gaze met his. I licked my lips, and his eyes followed the movement.
“I hope that pleased you, professor,” I said softly, dragging a hand over his thigh.
He cupped my face into his palm, lazily caressing my cheek with his thumb. “More than you know, Miss Collins.”
I gave him a small smile, and he returned it, making my insides turn. My bucket list of fantasies was overfilling, and this was just the start of it.
Karolina Wilde is a sexual wellness writer. Her work has been published on The Ascent, P.S. I Love You, and Sexography reaching over 25,000+ readers. In her free time, you can find her podcasting, reading, or creating TikTok videos.