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Students often find themselves in need of that extra boost to achieve their desired grades or attain additional credit towards their coursework.

And that was the case for you - never did you think you would end up at Columbia trying to earn your law degree. 

Now in your senior year, you needed extra credit, and none of your other professors wanted to help.

So you went with your last chance, Professor Murdock. He just started teaching a couple of months ago. But you quickly grew fond of him. Based on what you knew - he took on the Frank Castle case alongside his partner Nelson but lost the case. Maybe the case downshadowed their firm and made everything fall apart.

Who knew? But that made no difference to you. You knew what you wanted and needed. The way to his office made you dizzy, and you didn't know what to expect. You needed him -no, that was wrong- you needed his help.

The moment you stood outside his office, you saw him standing over his desk with his sleeves rolled up. His muscular forearms displayed in front of you. The tie loosely hung around his neck. 

His red-tinted glasses cover his soft, beautiful eyes that you've only ever seen once before. He looked almost angelic - and you finally understood the saying 'sight for sore eyes.' Matthew Murdock was truly a sight for sore eyes. 

The way his fingers ran over the braille on the paper on the table made you have many unholy thoughts about the man that could change your life. It made you think how his hand would feel around your throat while thrusting inside you from behind. Or if he could feel how tight your wet cunt was around his fingers. No, snap out of it. It was a sin to think such a thing of a man 15 years older than you. 

But Matt sensed you there at his door. He had actually heard you when you walked inside the building. The sweet scent of your perfume hit his nostrils stronger than a punch he would take at night on his nightly activities. 

Matt thought you already smelled sweet until he noticed a change of scent. It was more of an intoxicating fragrance - seeping into his skin and staining his memory with your powerful smell, immersed in your essence.

The way you wet your lips was just like beauty drops from the shyness of your lips. Nectar flows of desire with your heartbeat. Matt was hypnotized by the smell of your arousal in the air, making his pants feel tighter.

He was snapped out of that trance when he heard the sweetest sound he could ever hear: your voice. He stood there for a good minute, thinking of all those times he had heard your extremely short skirts rustle against the soft breeze, how the fabric would rub against your skin every time you were near him.

The smile on your face or the light scent of your orgasm from the night before still lingered on your skin, and it drove him mad. Did you have any idea of what you were doing to him? All those times your voice would change around him, the slightly whiney pitch making him want you more.

The soft touch of your hand on him when you would help him through the university campus, guiding him through the buildings, even though he had a cane and memory of the directions. Matt desired your touch on his skin, not on his suit. He couldn't corrupt a sweet, innocent thing like you. Or at least he thought so before.

After you managed to calm yourself down, you walked inside his office. Matt looked like he was about to explode. He was red, flustered, and sweating, and you grew concerned. "Professor? Are you okay?" 

"W-what? Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just thinking. Is there anything I can do for you?" Matt sat in his chair and moved himself to hide his growing erection under the desk. It was so wrong and unprofessional for him to act like this around you, his student. 

Your eyes ran down to his lap, and if Matt wasn't blind, he could see how your pupils grew wide. Matt Murdock wasn't small. No, he was big - bigger than you had imagined before. 

It was disgusting and perverted to think of your professor when you would seek pleasure late at night, hand rubbing your clit and moaning out his name as you came. 

You cleared your throat before continuing. "I've had a hard time understanding torts. I've tried and tried, but I just don't get it. I've been to everyone else, and you're kinda my last resort." You awkwardly chuckle, scuffling your feet.

"And you didn't come to me first?" he playfully questions, stroking over his stubble as if he's trying to assess you.

"No-- well, I didn't want to bother you, you know? You're only here temporarily and--" you trail off.

"I was just messing," he interrupts, a soft smile lining his lips. "Sit," he nods, gesturing to the seat opposite his desk. "I'd love to help one of my favourite students."

"One of them?" you snicker, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. "That's disappointing. I thought I was your favourite," you smile, your tone sweet as you lay your textbooks on the oak desk.  

Your eyes remain fixed on him, and you notice an expression you can't quite place - a face that's unreadable.

You sighed dramatically, "Please, Professor, I need your help-- badly. I need you". 

The small noise ran a chill down Matt's spine. It made it cock twitch underneath his slacks. He made a fist to bite onto it, to make sure the moan that was about to escape from his throat wasn't heard.

The way you begged for his help made him feel pride in his chest, his famous smirk surfacing onto his face. Would you sound this desperate in the bedroom? Matt thought to himself, and his thoughts carried on.

"Professor?" you repeat, your ask falling upon deaf ears. 

"Yes, sorry, forgive me, sweetheart. But back to the topic, I might have something that can help. Let me quickly look for it." He opened one of the drawers and ran his fingers over the braille to know the assignment.

But while he was so concentrated on the paper, you were a flustered mess. Matt Murdock, your professor, had called you 'sweetheart.' It was like honey the way the word rolled off his tongue. Your thighs pressed together to try to calm the ache between your legs. 

The way your scent hit Matt's nostrils was like a hard punch he'd receive on his nightly patrols. A groan left his throat, and he tried to mask it with a cough.

"Sorry, I had this assignment planned for the class but never gave it out. You have a week to do it. When you pass, you'll have your extra credit." Matt handed you your assignment.

"'When,' I think you mean if. But thank you so much for your help professor. I don't know what I would do without you." You knew you could count on him, although you were nervous about the outcome.

"Don't sell yourself short. You're smart and talented. You have a long way ahead of yourself. I know you can do this. If you need help, please come to me. I'll be at your disposal." 

Matt would have given you the extra credit without hesitation, but he wanted you to have a valid excuse to see him. He needed to see you again.

"Thank you again. And I won't sell myself short." You gently smiled at him even though he couldn't see your beautiful smile. 

"Good girl. The sooner you start, the better."

If you weren't blushing earlier, then you certainly would be now. The praise made your knees weak. Your panties are soaked and uncomfortable. The sensation needed to be taken care of once you got back to your dorm.

"I- uh. Yes, sir," you nodded quickly. 

It made you even redder that you couldn't make out a coherent sentence. Matt, that cheeky bastard was enjoying every single moment of this. It fueled his pride and ego, his smirk wider by the second. His erection was starting to become painful. The way you called him sir had him over the edge. 

He felt himself about to cum in his pants like a teenager. Matt needed to desperately do something about it and he couldn't with you there in his office, not yet.

"Is there anything else I can do for you"? 

Yeah, you can fuck me on your desk, you thought. You let out a sigh as you released your bitten lip and responded "No professor, thank you so much. I'll do good, I promise." And with that, you left his office. 

Your scent lingered in Matt's office, he could taste it on his tastebuds. Once he knew for sure you were far away from his office, he closed the door and locked it. He sat back down in his chair, quickly fumbling with his belt to take it off and pull down his pants just enough to take out his cock.

He rolls over his swollen cock with his roughened palm, stroking himself to you, sinful and utterly shameful thoughts of you. Thoughts and notions that made him question his moral code. He knew he shouldn’t be touching himself to you – a student, his student, but he was on the brink, too far gone to stop now. He imagined the noises you’d make, the way you felt wrapped around him, he anticipated the way you would come undone beneath him.

But the overwhelming pleasure made Matt forget everything about his moral code. He knew he would go to hell for his double life and all his sins. But you? Oh, you were his greatest sin, you were the cherry on top of his ticket to hell. His lust and desires wanted him to feel ashamed but Matt did not care. 

The small whimpers Matt knew he could pull out of you only made him harder. Matt wished it was your soft and delicate hands around his cock instead of his calloused hands. He knew he could treat you better than any of those stupid college guys. Only looking for their own release. Pathetic and selfish were the two things guys at college are. After three thrusts, they'd be done, but Matt? Oh, the stamina he has is way beyond what you could ever imagine.

He was a real man who knew how to make you fall apart for him within seconds. The amount of times he could bring you to reach your release. You poor small thing, probably haven't had your sweet cunt eaten out. Maybe even hadn't been given an orgasm.

Matt wanted to ruin you for any other person who would have you. No - you're his. You belong to him. Corrupting you would only add another sin to his list. The more he thought of you, the more he grew closer to coming. Matt's lip was bleeding due to how hard he had been trying to keep his moans and groans quiet.

Matt squeezed his cock tightly imagining that it would be your cunt squeezing him while you come for him, screaming his name. And just with that he came all over his hand and shirt, the sensation was making his senses go overload. A small whimper escapes his mouth. 

Matt reaches out for something to ground himself back again, but he's found with nothing. He needs you- Matt needs you there to comfort him. What? No- he made a deal to cut all forms of relationships. No friends, no love interests, no nothing. What about you then? That was a different situation and he would use you for his own pleasure. There's a difference, Matt thought to himself.

He felt confused, humiliated, even. His mind slowly started to clear, and then he began to round up the pros and cons, weighing what would do more harm. But you were still consuming the logical part of his brain, and all he could muster was an exasperated sigh, dropping his face in his palms like he was soothing himself. He just had to make it through the week.  

You've been doing everything you could to get that extra credit - staying up late, turning down every party invitation, just doing everything you could to get a good grade. All you wanted was for your efforts to be noted and appreciated. You just hoped your professor could notice how hard you were trying and give you something to prove your efforts. 

You haven't seen him all week, practically counting down the days to his handsome face again, and today was finally the day. 

He had a relatively busy schedule, so instead, he asked you to see him at the end, just before hometime -when he knew it would be empty- 

All day you had an anxious pit in your stomach - wild butterflies fluttering around your throat from how nervous you were. You just had to make it until 5 pm, that was all.

The time finally rolled around, and you began to make your way to Matt's office, uneasy footing carrying you to his door. You collect yourself briefly before knocking, tapping in a rhythmic tune. 

"Come in," the voice called from behind the door. 

"Hi," you smile, stepping into the small closet-like room. "You said to come back at 5."

"Yes, yes. Of course. Take a seat," he smiles, gesturing to the seat beside him. 

Your breath catches in your throat when you realise just how close you would be sitting to him, much closer than you were expecting, though you weren't complaining. But you do as told and take a seat.

"How did you find it?" he breaks the momentary silence, crossing his leg towards you. 

"Eh," you sigh, sweetly laughing. "Wasn't awful. But I did it, so that must count, right?"

He lightly chuckles, adjusting himself in the chair almost like he was leaning into you - his body language very much interested. "That's good. How do you think you did?"

"I'd like to think I did good."

His pretty smile resurfaces at your reassuring words, and your thighs instinctively clamp together, your body having a mind of its own.  

"That's great to hear, sweetheart," he nods. "Oh, while I have you here. This computer has been making a weird sound. Can you take a look for me?" 

"Of course," you smile and scooch closer on your chair, perking yourself up as you lean over, accidentally knocking him in the way. "Sorry," you mutter, patting his arm apologetically.

Matt exhales, your delicate touch sending him into a frenzy. "Sorry about the mess-- books everywhere. I really should clean it," he murmurs, shaking his head like he was trying to redirect his blood flow. He continues to blabber, feeling the strain in his boxers once more. "I'll get around to it." 

"It's okay," you whisper, breath catching in your throat again when you feel his knee brush over the back of your leg. "It's no problem." This time, you sounded more desperate than you would've liked - pathetic almost. 

He abruptly adjusts his seating position, his hardened crotch hitting against the cheeks of your ass causing you to stumble forward, splaying over his desk for a brief moment before spinning back around to face him. 

He's big, you think to yourself. Your eyes widen when you realize the position you are in. Matt wanted to do more by assuming that you were excited or maybe nervous as he heard the hammering beat of your heart. 

Besides, it wasn't like you were pushing him away. Maybe you did want this after all, the sweet nectar scent between your legs confirmed his theory. Matt leans in closer towards you, his mouth dangerously close to your ear, "Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?" 

You couldn't form any words, it was embarrassing. The need to have Matt's hand between your thighs to ease the ache was starting to fill your mind. A pathetic whimper fell from your soft lips as you nodded your head 'yes.'

His calloused fingers run over your knee, up your thigh, "Oh you sweet thing, I haven't even done a single thing and you already can't speak. Use your big girl words. Is this okay?"

"Y-yes," it was barely audible. The shade of crimson grew darker on your cheeks the more Matt touched you. His left hand gripping your thigh, while his right hand was on your hip, slowly creeping up your chest to your neck. It only made your arousal leak through your panties how his large hand covered your entire neck.

Matt's body heat radiated onto your skin with how he had you caged against his desk. He couldn’t get enough of how soft your skin was, even softer than the silk sheets on his bed. You were like a drug, his addiction. 

His hand moved to grip your jaw to look at him, he leaned in to kiss the soft lips of yours that he's craved to kiss, to have wrapped around his cock. Sucking him while he'd grip your hair, guiding you, being his good girl. Matt's cock twitches painfully under his slacks. 

"W-what if someone sees us?" You wanted to kiss Matt, badly, but that didn't mean you wanted to get caught. 

"Nobody's here, sweetheart. Don't worry that pretty little head of yours."

Before closing your eyes, you saw the smirk that Matt had grown to flash at you lately. God, how you wanted to make this man feel so good. 

His thumb brushes over your chin, tilting you up to face him once again, his smirk slowly faltering as he closes the distance, angling you to meet his lips. He kisses you with more vigour - more passionately than before, like he was desperate, finally kissing you like those times he's dreamt of.

His palm around your jaw slips behind and into a loose fist of hair at the back of your neck, holding you still and deepening the kiss as he presses his chest into yours, pushing you back into his desk. 

You hop onto the edge of the desk and slip your hands around his waist, finicking with his belt as you eagerly try to undress his lower half.  

He parts from the kiss breathlessly, chuckling as he shakes his head. "Not about me, sweetheart," he smiles, removing your hands from his waistband. He brings your hands to his lips and places a delicate kiss on the back of each. "It's about you."

Matt hastily clears the desk surrounding you, emptying the space for you to lean back. You do as asked, falling back and resting on your elbows as you gaze up at the handsome man standing between your spread legs. 

His hands trail your bare thighs, grazing up the goosebumped skin until his fingertips reach the frilled edging of your underwear. A gentle smile lines his lips as he brushes over the small wet patch of fabric, his thumb tracing your folds through the dampened material. His grin widens as he outlines the mound of your clit, teasing at the nub with small, soft circles. 

On any other occasion, Matt would've taken the time to work you up, to appreciate you - to coax out a couple of orgasms beforehand, but time was not on your side, and what you had was limited. He just wanted to give you a small taste of what he had to offer you, hoping you'd want to come back for more. All he wanted today was to satisfy a slither of his hunger while making you feel good - all while going uncaught. 

He returns his attention to you and slips his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, slowly dragging them over your hips and down your thighs. He balls the damp, slinky fabric and shoves it in his desk drawer for "safekeeping," as Matt lightly put it.

"If we had more time, sweetheart..." he trails off, shaking his head at the thought. 

"I don't really understand law-- I'll be back again soon," you reply, tone flirty and breathless as you shimmy down on the oak desk, adjusting to accompany him. "Might need some more extra credit."

"That's good-- I can do that," his voice hoarse as he urgently unbuckles his belt, unzipping his fly. "I've got plenty more. Anything you need."

He pulls his cock out over the waistband of his boxers, keeping most of himself covered in the off and unfortunate chance of getting caught.

You perk yourself up higher on your elbows and glance down at him, eyes bugging out your head when you see his thick, swollen dick twitching in his tight grasp. He wasn't your first, but his size certainly was. 

Matt lazily rolls over his cock, massaging in a few beads of precum as he situates closer, standing between your legs with his thighs pressed into the back-side of yours. He pushes his dick through your folds, collecting your wetness on his head, slick lips parting around his girth.

"If it's too much, let me know," Matt reassures, stroking your thigh with his spare hand.

"I will," you eagerly nod, wrapping your hand around his cock, slowly guiding him into you.

He stills, allowing you to take what you want, letting you take it little by little til you're full solely of him. His thick cock stuffed into your perfect, pretty pussy - warm walls melting around him as you twitch and whine on the table. 

"That's it-- doin' so good," he coos, brushing comforting circles over your tummy, the action as if to soothe you. "Feel so perfect."

Matt slowly drags out a few inches and pushes back in, doing it repetitively as if to stretch you out, slowly fucking and filling you. One of his hands trails back to your waist, gripping your skin and gently tugging your body to meet his lazy, uneven jabs. The other placed calculatedly over your pubic bone, thumb swirling over your clit in a movement that juxtaposed his sloppy thrusts. 

The dingy room is full of stifled moans and muttering praises - wet, squelching noises accompanying the lewd sounds. 

It all began to feel like too much, as if Matt was pressing all your buttons at once - doing everything to get you off as fast and hard as possible. 

"Quiet, sweetheart. I can't be giving everyone extra credit," he hushes, continuing to leisurely wind his cock into you, going nice and slow. "That's only for you, sweet girl."

He leans over your body, swallowing your whimpers with rough kisses as if he knew you were close - like he was taking precautions, not wanting others to hear. 

His thrusts never falter in motion, giving you what you want, not changing a thing as he brings you to your ever-longing high. 

"Cum on my dick," he murmurs against your lips, resting his forehead on yours, softly panting. "That's it, that's it, that's it, that's it."

The internal balloon in your stomach wears thin, and you do as instructed - cumming around his thick cock as you entrap him to your body, caging him in a bear hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, muffling moans and cries as you let go.

"Sound so pretty," he whispers, peeling himself from your grasp. "So, so pretty."

Once you come back down, he stands upright and yanks his cock from the perfect warmth between your legs, rolling over his reddened head as he spills his release on your inner thigh, mumbling curses and praises about how good you make him feel. 

Matt quickly tucks himself away, and his cheeks flush a light pink as he slips his hands into yours, pulling you up and helping you up. He sits in his chair and rolls it closer to you, pulling out one of his desk drawers and collecting a pack of tissues.

"Didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, wiping the tissue over your thigh, cleaning the cum. 

"No," you reply immediately, shaking your head. "Not at all."

"Good," he grins, throwing the tissue in the can by the window. "We'll keep this as our little secret?"

"Absolutely," you sweetly laugh. "But, I should be going. My roommate's waiting on me."

"Of course, sweetheart," his grin widens, nodding understandingly.

He helps you to your feet and adjusts your skirt, smoothing over the fabric. As he does that, you sort out your upper half - straightening your top and fixing your hair. 

"Oh-- my underwear," you giggle, feeling a slight breeze. 

He playfully tuts, clicking his tongue as he buckles his belt. "I'm keeping them for a few days. Will you give you a reason to come back."

You sling your bag over your shoulder and reach for the door handle. "I don't need another reason."

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