It was the last day of class. Sweltering heat in the amphitheater. Everyone zoning out, chatting, dozing. Not me. I hung on every word from Mr. Pillot, my linguistics prof. Tall, athletic, blond with reddish stubble. All the girls crushed on him. But me? Obsessed. Fantasies all year. Today, I decided to act. No risk—graduating tomorrow, gone forever. In my bag: envelope with a printed pic. Me in uni bathroom mirror, same outfit—knee-high skirt, thigh socks, white shirt, green overshirt. No panties, no bra. Leg up, shaved pussy exposed, one tit out. Face hidden by phone. My number on back.
Nerves on fire. Boyfriend Tom? Perfect guy—hot, funny, great fuck. Three years together. But today? Thrill of betrayal burned hotter. Ethics? Fuck that. Class ends. He packs up. I swim against the crowd, hand him the envelope. ‘Thanks for the amazing classes. Open later.’ Smile, bolt. Face burning. Glance back—he’s opening it. Heart pounds. Day drags. Kiss Tom outside class. He whispers I’m sexy. Giggle, agree to fuck at his later. But my mind’s elsewhere.
The Awakening
Phone buzzes. Unknown number: ‘5pm. Amphi B.’ Holy shit. He’s hooked. 4pm now. Agony waiting. Pussy already wet. No panties under skirt—dangerous run to amphi. Doors shut, ‘renovation’ sign. Push in. Empty. Dusty desks, scaffold half-built. Sit front row, pretend to read. Door slams back. Footsteps. Shadow looms. Drops my pic on desk.
‘What’s this mean, Miss Favier?’
‘Whatever you want, Mr. Pillot.’
He leans on prof desk, arms crossed. I unbutton shirt two notches. Tits peek out. He watches. Silence crackles.
‘You think flashing pussy gets you fucked?’
‘Is it?’
Pull panties from bag, drop them. Spread legs slight. Skirt hikes. Bare cunt glistens. He stares, steps close. Hand on throat—light grip. Kisses hard. Dominant. Tongue invades. Pulls back.
‘You know the risk?’
Nod. Soaked.
The Act
‘Make it worth it. Sit on desk. Touch yourself.’
Legs dangle, skirt up. Finger circles wet lips. Slides in. Moans build. He watches, calm. Kneels. Tongue dives. Fingers join. Explodes me. Best orgasm ever. Tastes himself on his kiss.
‘Like it, Miss Favier?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Kneel.’
Pants drop. Thick cock springs free. Suck gland, tongue swirl. Deeper. Gags me. Grabs hair, face-fucks. Saliva drips.
Bent over desk. Spanks ass—hard. ‘Cheating slut?’ Fingers pussy while I suck. Condom on. Slams in. Grips hair, panties in mouth. Flips me. Legs on shoulders. Tits bounce. Feral pounding. Pulls out, rips condom. Kneels me. Face-fucks to edge. Cums ropes on face, mouth, tits. Lick clean.
‘Exemplary, Miss Favier.’ Tissues left. Leaves like nothing happened.
Wipe cum, dress. Phone: ‘See you soon.’ Reply: ‘Soon, sir.’ Tom later? Maybe confess. But this secret? Mine. Pulsing thrill lingers. Oozing confidence. Dared the forbidden. Crave more.