Page 17 of Baby for the Professor
He pushed a stack of paper in front of me and started to draw graphs to illustrate his point.
I forced my brain to focus on the problem. After he finished speaking, I typed an answer. When it turned out to be correct, I let out a breath of relief. Jackson also chuckled. "Yay! You got it!"
We high-fived and he let me do a similar problem just to make sure I really got it.
"Thanks. I will do the rest later,” I said after I got the right answer again.
I closed the program and stood up, knocking down the stack of books right next to the desk. They scattered onto the floor. "I'm so sorry," I said as I bent to pick them up. When I straightened, Jackson's eyes were stormy. Shit. My flare skirt. I must've flashed him. I heard his heavy breathing and thunderous heartbeat, and my thighs tingled.
"I...er," I was going to apologize again when he pulled me to him and kissed me.
Shit. I resisted it at first but gave in. I had wanted it all this time, hadn't I? He tasted as good as I remembered, only better because my memory must've faded. His lips had been velvety, not demanding as these. Oh God. He kissed with such urgency as if he had wanted to do it for a while but had stifled his urge. He was holding me tight, and grasping the small of my back possessively. His other hand cradled my head and stroked my hair.
He sucked on my lips like they were a delicious dessert. When his tongue slipped into my mouth, a moan escaped from the back of my throat. Immediately, I felt his cock jolting in his pants. I rolled my pelvis against him by instinct, making sure my pubic bone ground on his hard-on.
Grunting, he untucked my blouse from my skirt and slipped a hand under it. His callous hand traveled along my back greedily, sending delicious shivers down my spine. When his thumb found its way to my bra and started to tease the side of my breast, I gasped and pulled away.This would be too much.
"What's wrong?" he growled.
"We can’t go on with this," I mumbled. "It isn’t right."
"Why not?" He was still holding me tight, not letting go. "Are you seeing someone?"
"No. But we're in your office. You're my professor."
"So? There's no rule against it."
"B-but..."
"Do you not want this?" his voice softened, and he looked worried as if only this question mattered to him and nothing else did. “Isn’t it what you’re here for?”
Yes. Damn. The realization made me forget all my moral qualms, too. What was the power this man had over me? Why couldn't I say no to him? Hell. This man had been my only fantasy over the years, and he was my son's daddy. He was handsome, sexy, and demanding. Who in her right mind could resist him? Certainly not a single mom who hadn't gotten laid for five years!
I was struggling with the right answer when his hand glided lower and stroked my ass. I was a goner. "I want this," I rasped. "Don't stop."
He kissed me again, and our tongues danced and tangled. He unclasped my bra and cupped one of my breasts, making me moan louder.
Oh, God. I had fantasized about this over a hundred times in the past week whenever my attention strayed from his lectures and when I forgot myself in his deep voice and his intense eyes. I had been so horny, imagining all kinds of naughty things in the classroom. And now my fantasies were coming true. Not in the classroom, but just as exciting.
As I was enjoying his hand molding my aching swell, Jackson freed a hand to undo my buttons. The next second, my blouse and bra were tossed onto the chair and I was topless. The realization made me flush, and the look on his face intensified the heat.
"You're even more gorgeous than I remember," he murmured as he stroked my breasts with the back of his hand.
I resisted the urge to tell him I had gained a few pounds over the years. I bit my lip instead and reached to unbutton his shirt. "I want to see you, too."
He removed his shirt quickly and then unzipped his flies. My heart caught in my throat as he shimmied out of his pants. He looked more beautiful than the underwear models I came across online from time to time. Not an ounce of fat, all smooth muscles. I ran a hand to feel the indents of his six-pack. Damn. I missed these, too. "You've got more muscles than before," I said.
He chuckled. "I had more time for the gym, I guess."
I imagined him sweating on a treadmill, and my knees went weak again. He took my hand and pressed it on his thick bulge, and I whimpered.
"See what you're doing to me, naughty girl. And can you imagine me trying to hide this in front of the class?"
I gasped. "No way."
"Yes," he said, his voice strained. "It was why I stood behind the lectern most of the time."
I giggled. "I was wondering about it. Naughty professor!"
