The Bad and Dirty Professor

My classes are surprisingly popular. Don’t get me wrong, they’re pretty much the best in the faculty. My teaching is of the highest intellectual calibre, and the seminar discussions are usually informed, lively and stimulating.

No, the reason my popularity surprises me is that certain students – attractive female ones, to be precise – run a serious risk of highly inappropriate attention. Each semester I expect to find a sea of male and daggy female faces. I don’t. In fact I generally seem to get more than my fair share of the faculty’s lookers. I might say that I don’t understand women, but really I think it’s the absolute opposite – I understand what they want only too well.

Nevertheless it was still something of a surprise late last week when I received an email from a student requesting to transfer into my classes. Even more surprising was the way the email was written: “Hi Prof Chambers, could I start coming to your Wednesday classes please? I would love to be one of your students, Jasmine.”

I looked Jasmine up on the records system. Twenty-five years old, good grades, but most importantly the scanned photo showed a sweet sweet face, full lips and fabulous dark eyes. Mm mm.

I clicked reply. “Jasmine, before I can agree to you joining my classes, please can you come to my rooms at 6pm this evening? Mike”. I looked at my watch. 4pm. This was surely going to be a record, two hours from first contact to fucking her slutty little brains out?

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I am the wicked professor. I will lie and cheat and connive just so I can take advantage of my students. Young or old, good or bad, if I’m attracted to you then, make no mistake, I will find a way of having you.

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My next surprise was Jasmine’s attire when she turned up at my rooms dead on six. Yes she was every bit as cute and hot as I had imagined, but I had expected her to look trampy and available, whereas her jeans and turtleneck were really quite demure.

We sat and chatted. My unease grew. She seemed earnest and intense, and genuinely keen to gain the academic benefits of studying under me. There were no innuendoes or subtle suggestions that she was ready to offer me a nasty little fuck. It wouldn’t be the first time I had misread genuine innocence for something more wicked, but now she was sitting in front of me I began to feel irritated that I might miss out.

As my frustration grew I examined her more and more closely on her interest in my subject, and her ability. I began to push her down the old “just how badly do you want to be taken seriously?” route, which always seems to be effective in flushing out what I want.

Jasmine giggled. Maybe it was just nerves, but there was just the hint of something wicked there, as though she too had been depending on this moment.

“I’m sorry,” I said harshly, “is there something funny about you wanting to take my classes?”

“No, I…”

“I think you’ve been wasting my time. You knew full well when you came here that I require absolute commitment from my students. Evidently that’s not something you can give.”

“Please, no, I didn’t mean anything!”

“You can let yourself out.”

“No! I really want to be your student. Let me show you. Please.” Again, a hint of wickedness. “I will do anything.”

Whatever. My anger was still there. This wasn’t going to be a quick little fuck any more.

“Bend over my desk.”

Jasmine blinked at me, her expression blank.

“You heard me. Bend over the desk. If you want to be my student, you have to show me your asshole.”

Normally at this stage I’d get a “you cannot be serious!” as the prelude to a long period of semi-consensual foreplay. Jasmine simply looked at me, confidently, her dark eyes burning with something close to triumph.

As she reached the desk she undid her jeans, and as she bent forward she slipped them down to her ankles.

“And your panties,” I said as I walked over. Jasmine pulled them down immediately. Her face was turned towards me and, just as I liked the look of her bare arse, I could see that she enjoyed the effect her brazen display was having on me. “Open up. I want to see your asshole properly.”

Jasmine pulled her ass cheeks apart. I bent forward to look closely, as if she was the subject of some perverse experiment. “I like your asshole, Jasmine. Do you think it would feel good wrapped around my cock?”

She gasped. “Yes.” It was as if everything she had imagined was coming true.

“Show me how tight it is, Jasmine. Put your finger in your ass for me.”

She lubricated her finger in her pussy, lingering a little longer than was necessary. “In your ass, Jasmine.”

She slowly poked her finger inside her anus. There was no need for the normal exhortations to go further as she obediently buried her digit to the second knuckle.

“Mm, good, now lick your finger clean while I have a go.”

With equal care Jasmine pulled her finger out of her bottom and methodically fellated it.

I touched my fingertip on her anus. For fuck’s sake, two hours ago she was a new name on an email, and here I was rubbing her asshole. I gently pressed my finger inside Jasmine’s anal canal, loving the warm dirty tightness.

As I fingered Jasmine’s asshole and she licked her dirty finger clean, she slipped her other hand down to pleasure her pussy. With most of my students that would have been an unforgiveable breach of etiquette. But with Jasmine the nature of our relationship seemed established already. Her pleasure was to let me do what I wanted, rather than there be any need for me to control her. There was a curious and enjoyable equality.

Given how relentlessly and unfairly vicious I usually am about sex, I have a peculiarly old-fashioned sense of progression, which is almost eleventh grade in its simplicity. Hand job, blow job, pussy fuck, ass fuck, more extreme perversions. I think the essence of it is probably delayed satisfaction.

There could be none of that with Jasmine. Her asshole felt too good. “I have to fuck your ass now, Jasmine,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

I pulled out my finger, and reaching around to hold it in front of Jasmine’s face I began to push my cock up Jasmine’s ass. I say push, because she was neither lubricated nor stretched enough for my assault. She gasped, her eyes still fixed on my reaction.

Jasmine’s ass felt so tight that I could feel the friction as my cock was tugged back by her anal canal. But soon enough I was buried deep between her cheeks, and I began a slow and restricted in-out motion.

“Fuck, yes.” It seemed my newest student liked being assfucked the brutal way.

I liked it too, but it would have been much too easy to simply release my spunk in Jasmine’s bowels, both of us knew that, so I slowly withdrew. There was a slight pop as Jasmine’s hungry anus closed around the empty space where my cock had been.

“Kneel,” I said. Jasmine knelt before me, her eyes remaining fixed on mine. “Clean my cock.”

There was just a moment’s hesitation, I could tell, as Jasmine checked out the condition my cock was in after its vicious visit to her behind. What was she hoping for? Squeaky clean, or something nasty and shameful to accept into her mouth?

It can only have been the latter. The touch of her tongue and lips was delicate and sensuous, not reluctant. She appreciated every filthy aspect of this act every bit as much as I did, and as she diligently cleaned her ass from my cock I could see her fingers were again busy at her pussy.

Once again the temptation to fill one of Jasmine’s holes with my spunk was enormous, but it felt to me that one further, even more perverse, act might be a suitable finale to our first encounter.

“Show me your titties,” I said, slipping my cock from Jasmine’s mouth.

“Yes.” She complied quickly.

I held my now clean cock in front of her face. Jasmine looked expectantly up at me.

“What do you want me to do to you now?” I asked.

“I…I don’t know,” she said.

“Come on!” I said. “You want to be my student, then you must know what you want me to do to you now.”

“Pee on me,” she said, gulping. “I want you to piss over me.” She reached for my cock and pointed it at her tits.

“Yessss.” Jasmine gasped as the first drops trickled onto her thighs and jeans, but then as it turned into a full flow she directed the stream of my piss over her breasts, her fingers frantic now at her cunt. Then, oh so slowly, she opened her mouth and poked out her tongue, and gradually lowered her face into the arc of piss. I watched, transfixed, as she splashed my pee all over her face.

When, finally, the flow subsided, Jasmine’s face and tits were drenched with my piss. She looked incredible, her eyes wild with the enormity of what she had permitted me to do.

“Cum on my face,” she said, “I want to feel your cum with your piss on my face.” Her hand on my cock was slow, deliberate, while her other hand worked busily between her legs to relieve her own needs.

I looked down at her sweet, degraded face, and after only a few delicate strokes I felt the cum surge up my cock. Jasmine didn’t falter one second as my spunk spurted over her salty wet cheeks and lips and nose. Only as I was finishing did she allow herself her own orgasm, her assfucked, cum-, and piss-drenched body bucking uncontrollably at its supreme humiliation.

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A little later, as I poured us both a drink, Jasmine turned nervously to me. “There’s just one thing,” she said.

“Yes?”

“I have to work Wednesdays. I’m sorry. I can’t make your classes. But I can still be your student, can’t I?”