Page 19 of One Night With My Grumpy Professor Daddy

I lick my lips, and that does it. I don’t know who moves first, but we’re on each other, our tongues clashing and moving rhythmically as my body hums to life. His lips are so soft; they taste sweet, like I’m finally having something I’ve denied myself but wanted for so long.

Even though I know we shouldn’t be doing this, we’re too far gone. He kisses me in powerful strokes that wake butterflies in my belly and increases the wetness between my legs. The only thought running through my head.

How can something be wrong if it feels so right?

Chapter ten

Drake

She’s so sweet.

I kiss her neck, and she runs her fingers through my hair, trailing to the nape of my neck. I Reach for her breast rubbing, caressing and squeezing as she lets out a moan that goes straight to my already straining, painful cock that’s begging to be released.

Her tits feel amazing.

“I want you, professor,” she whispers against my ear. And that does it. Her tiny voice shatters whatever control I have left. I take her lips in mine, claiming, clashing, tasting. I want her in every way, to taste every part of her. My hands roam every inch of her delectable body, tracing every curve, dip, and swell. My lips leave hers to kiss her neck while my tongue trails down her body—I want more…I need more. She moans as I nibble on her plush, firm skin.

“Oh, fuck! Yes.” She gasps.

God, she sounds hypnotic.

I trail back up and take her lips, swallowing her sweet sounds. She writhes against me, pulling me closer. I grind into her so she can feel just how much I want her— how much she drives me crazy. She looks at me with wide eyes, eyes that speak of just how much she wants me, too. I’m sure if I put my hands in between her legs, she’ll be wetter than ever. My vision distorts, and my surroundings fade in and out. “Drake!” She yells. But it doesn’t sound like her voice. It sounds like…

Beep! Beep! Beep!

I’m instantly yanked away, far from Ava and the sweet feeling of her body against mine. My mind’s pulled even further when my eyes open, and I realize where I am.

What the fuck.

I wake up with a start from my dream cum fantasy and run my hands through my hair.

“Not again,” I groan. I've been thinking up different scenes with Ava even more since that day.

I knew crossing the line with her was going to fuck me up…

I got to keep my head in the game.

…but I couldn’t stop myself— then or now. I also didn’t know how bad or how much more I’d crave and want her. I mean, here I am, waking up with my cock standing painfully proud, like a teenager and not a damn forty-four-year-old.

With another groan, I drag myself out of bed and head to the shower. Turning the control to the cold setting, I stay still under the cool spray, hoping it’ll calm my raging hard-on.

I run my hands across my chest and shoulders, soaping myself—I think about what I should be doing. I need to think of ways to avoid Ava, both physically and mentally. But when I close my eyes, she’s all I see. I run my hands through my hair and try not to think about bending her delectable ass over my table, teaching her a lesson like I’ve imagined.

I shouldn’t be imagining her on her knees between my legs, pleasing me.

I shouldn’t think of her calling me professor, begging me to take her.

I shouldn’t be thinking of her hips or how good it feels to sink inside her.

I shouldn’t be thinking of those sweet sounds when I’m bouncing off the back of her asss, hitting it just right over and over.

Fuck, I need to stop working myself up!

I look down to see my cock still standing as proud as ever, and I know that it’s a lost cause. Not even the coldest of showers will help me today. I reach over and give it an easy stroke. And, like a bolt of electricity, the image of Ava in my office, licking her lips, as I stare into her luscious tits, looking at me, just close enough to touch but not quite, shoots into my head. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m done fighting my urges. I give myself another easy stroke and close my eyes, finally letting the fantasy consume me.

Replaying the scene in the office, and this time around, when she almost touches my dick, I grab her hand in mine and hold it behind her as I bend her over, sinking myself deep inside her wet pussy. The memory of her soft mewls echo in my mind as I plunge deeper, fisting her hands tighter, so she can’t move, taking what I have to give like a good girl. She moans in ecstasy as I fuck her.

Lost in fantasy, I stroke myself harder, faster, my harsh breathing echoing off the walls of my marble bathroom. An illicit groan comes from the back of my throat as I come into my hand. My heart is a drum in my chest, and my breathing takes a moment to calm down. My head clears, and I watch the water wash the evidence of my fantasy down the drain. This is fucking ridiculous. I obviously need to get laid because there’s no other explanation for all this horney professor bit. The only way to nip this thing in the bud is to put distance between whatever this thing is. And with that thought, I dry myself and get ready to start my day.

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