I’m Hot For Teacher

Going on four weeks in the semester, I am enrolled in a Multicultural Studies Course. I am a student with a 3.7 GPA, I work hard for my grades. I work over 60 hours a week with being a highly requested phone lady helping clientele with phone sex. I LOVE MY FUCKINGJOB!!! I also am crushing hard over my teaching assistant professor not knowing how I am going to approach him with, “Hi, I am majoring in English…your course is part of my degree…shall we get well acquainted in each others’ underpants???” Silly, I know, but this Hispanic Adonis is 6’3, muscular, nice shaved with a trim goatee, bald head, and speaks with such voice diction and suavity! He is eloquent in his lectures and always calls my name…”Lyric” loving the way the two syllables are expressing; engaged with eyes interlocked with each other. Each time he speaks my name, my panties are moist, yet I cannot withstand it at times, for I tend to hold back from squirting in them. Monday, he was wearing a Joaquin Murrieta tee, with khaki pants and his black rimmed buddy holly glasses. For the past two days, I have been working a total of 34 hours and desperately needing some sleep. I was informed we were going to watch a film for the next hour and 20 minutes in class, when I was appalled I had not completed an assignment which was to be due. I had the entire weekend, and I utterly forget. I was really worried I was going to have my teacher look at me with disdain and disgust. That was the last thing I needed. Instead, he called out my name in class and intentionally embarrassed me by saying “I expected better things from you, Lyric.”

Good grief, one bloody assignment, and I am heading down the hall for the march of the martyrs. Now my teacher hates me. After a good five minute “my heart sunk to my knees moment,” the lights were pitch black in the 300 lecture seated hall, and the film was on. I always sit in the back of the class because it keeps me focused, not that many people rubbing up against me in seats or not always staring at my tattoos. During ten minutes of the beginning of the film, I smell a faint scent of Perry Ellis against my nasal passages. Such an aromatic smell. A cold hand reached on my thigh, and the words hissed in my right ear, “What are we going to do about your assignment, Lyric?”

My goodness, my teacher was touching me, I did not know how to react. He exclaimed, faintly, “If you utter such a sound, you will get points deducted off your assignment, Lyric.”

Slowly, slightly slowly, my pencil skirt was just above my thighs, mind you I was not wearing underwear, he uttered, “My type of girl. This will hurt a bit. Do NOT make a move.”

Holy FUCK! His fingers rubbed my clitoris, my pink lips wrapped around his hand like a glove. The film and the words overpowered in silence, the students so attentive, and here I am getting finger banged by my teacher I desperately wanted to fuck. My thighs were trembling in fear, for I might get caught, but I desperately wanted to kiss him, fuck him, suck his dick, anything.

“You need to stop by my office after class. DO NOT CUM! This is merely a punishment for what you have caused. Your teacher is very disappointed in you, Lyric. Yes, good girl. Do not cum. That is my Lyric. Yes….make music with me. I desire my apt pupil.”

Relieved, despair leaving my system, blood coursing through my veins, the viscosity of my juices getting thinner, for I was about to climax into a frenzy. Right when I was about to, he stopped. He uttered, “You shall be punished. I have a nine tales flogger waiting in my office. If you do not cry, or moan as you did not when playing with your forbidden fruit, I will give you an A for your assignment.”

I nodded with a silent yes, attempting to control my breathing, slid my pencil skirt down. Comported myself to a regular student. Many thoughts rushed through my head. I was told by Friday to visit his office in reference to an assignment I needed to discuss during his office hours. I was to wear a skirt, and some Fuck me red lipstick. Why? Who knows? I have had an epiphany, my teacher was a closet sadist. This is getting better! Only a true sadist can spot a masochist. For I am a frequent one.

The film was put to a halt. Class period was the rest of lecture. The teacher was nonchalant, speaking to and fro of the film, indicating this was the wrong film he had placed of viewing. Was the film placed on the projector intentionally? Was he wanting me to be forgetful of an assignment with little irrelevancy? Who knows? However, one thing is certain, Friday will be exquisite. My teacher interlocked eyes once more at the end of the class period.

“Lyric, your assignment will consist of the reflections on suppression in the Latino history of fieldworkers. It will consist of struggle, how much PAIN one can withstand during their suppression, lastly how much one can take. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” I acknowledged. Knowing this teacher is prestigious with a high reputation on campus, married and a big Latino activist, I cannot fathom how I can be so attracted to a man with what he can lose. However, I cannot imagine how I can end up being so lucky to be his apt pupil.