God is empty just like me

Teeth grinding on the cap of your cheap ball-point pen, eyes addictively stuck on the man centering the lecture hall, sat next to your professor, microphone in hand, answering a question you didn't care to listen to.

Sparing not a single glance toward your professor as he asks another, teeth stopping their attack as the man laughs before sinking down harder. Sharply pulling it from your lips at the sound of plastic cracking, setting the pen down onto your blank notebook, sighing at its abandoned state.

The lecture hall had disappeared once the man walked in, introducing himself as John Kiriakou, a former CIA officer. A guest speaker for your college class, hearing nothing else, passed John being friends with your professor, only focusing on the man entirely.

Spending the class's first few minutes studying John's soft blue button-up and the suit jacket casually styled atop it, blocking his shoulders out into something you'd like your fingertips to dig into. Even in the present moment, your eyes float down, eating up each seam of his jeans, stopping at its opening.

Mind filling with ways you'd undo the belt buckled around his hips, merely imagining the sound causes your legs to squirm. Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, eyes floating back up John's body, eating up the length of his thick neck, only to look away as his attention turns, speaking to the audience.

Staring down, attempting to calm your body's heightened state before allowing yourself to look back up, meeting a pair of brown eyes. Only to lose John's eyes as they look away, caught, leaving you to watch as John fails to bite back a smile.

Cheeks flushing red, smiling to yourself, feeling the ecstasy of the universe's favor bloom within your chest. Body buzzing with delight, hungry for his brown eyes to gaze upon you once again, knowing he feels your siren stare.

Hearing their call, John peeks back up, eyes meeting once again, causing warmth to flutter throughout your body. The apple of your cheek's peaking, smile twisting into a grin just as John is pulled away, listening to your professor's discussion. Playing off the forceful stretch of his lips as just another polite, engaging smile, even as it fights to become a smirk.

Wondering what fantasies render within John's mind, hearing him struggle to find the words to answer the question. Thankful it was the last, packing away your unused notebook and victimized pen, tossing both into the depths of your bag.

Finishing just as your professor thanks John for his time, causing half the class to clap as the other stands up, collecting their things. Stealing glances at John, hoping to take one more sight of his eyes with you into the world where you'd never meet them again.

The universe granting your wish once again, only his eyes don't find you naturally, but from your name being called.

Eyes tearing from John's, meeting your professor's eyes, who motions you over. Weaving through the crowd, stepping up to his desk, neck burning at the sigh he lets out.

"I have notes on the paper you turned in yesterday," he starts, picking up a stapled stack of papers off his desk. "I highly recommend you go over them and resubmit this," he states, handing what is your essay printed out, nearly every line highlighted and noted.

Speechless, face burning with embarrassment, only nodding at your professor, knowing anything from your lips would have to be reported, furthering his theatrical disdain for you.

Lips thinning into a line, glancing toward John, catching his eye. Devouring the sight of them as your skull boils, turning, leaving through the nearly empty doorway, stopping at a hall bench, shoving the colorful stack of papers in your bag.

Ears perking at the sound of footsteps behind you as they enter the hall, turning as they start to descend the length of it. Eyes latching onto a familiar head of hair, dripping down to John's shoulders, surfacing a heavy urge within you. Feet starting off towards him, following the man down the building's steps, allowing your mind to pause its incessant feast on him, sparking the idea of how he'd be more than just a piece of eye candy.

"John, John Kiriakou," you call out, making the man turn around, a kind smile softly pulling at the corners of his lips. Witnessing John's eyes consume the view of you, realization flickering within dark eyes that it was you, once again, you were the center of his attention.

"Yes," John answers, his voice bordering on breathless. Giving a polite smile in return, extending a greeting hand to him, introducing yourself.

Nodding, accepting the handshake. "I really enjoyed your talk, I hope I can add it to my paper," you say, partly joking, capturing nothing of what he'd said all throughout the discussion, focusing more on what he'd sound like talking you through it.

"Thank you, I hope you do well on it. I know he can be a bit tough, but he means well," he reassures, holding a tight smile, nodding at his words, knowing your grades argue otherwise.

"Well, that's also why I stopped you," you start, hands parting from the handshake. "I was hoping you could help by putting in a good word for me," you state, causing John's brows to pinch together in confusion. "He's already failed me once, and if I don't pass his class, I'll have to repeat it for the third time," you explain, uncertainty continuing to cling to his face.

"I don't know if-"

"I'll blow you," you cut him off, stepping down a stair, ensuring no one but John hears your words.

Brows rising, brown eyes growing wide, seeing doubt in what he heard fill them. Smiling, failing to soften their devious appearance, making the first move out of both of you.

Reaching, taking John's hand, leading him up the stairway he'd walked down seconds ago. Allowing your gentle hold to have him, following your quick pace across the empty hall, rounding the corner, using your free hand to open the gender-neutral bathroom.

Pulling the man in, biting back the giddy laugh that bubbles in the back of your throat. Swiftly closing the door, arousal rushing through your veins, hearing the heavy lock of the door as you turn it. Discarding your bag atop the tiled bathroom floor before dropping to your knees in front of John, pain jolting up your thighs, magnifying the sensitivity between them.

Legs barely able to spread wide enough before your hands latch onto the belt of his pants, biting your lip at the sound of metal clanking together. Daring only to peer up once the zipper is undone, absorbing the sight of John, breathlessly watching your feral actions, fueled by much more than a simple good word.

Eyes flickering back down, attempting to slow your eagerness, pulling apart the opening flaps of his pants. Swallowing the pool watering within your mouth, imagining the weight of his cock atop your tongue.

Fingers digging, peeling down his underwear's elastic hem, freeing John's cock, already growing stiff at the thought of your lips wrapped around it. Sighs slipping from John's lips, lapping up his cock into your mouth, lips firmly wrapping, sucking on his length.

Gazing up, meeting John's eyes that stare back down, mindlessly consuming the view of you. Brows knitting together as another sigh escapes his lips, taking your sweet time tasting each inch of him. Watching John's head fall back, his eyes struggling to watch you start to slowly bob back. Moans finally curling out, rising in volume as your pace fastens, tongue slurping along the underside of his cock.

Ecstasy growing ravenous between your thighs, the full weight of John's aching cock atop your tongue, humming with delight as he hardens by the second. Hands resting against John's thighs, stopping the man from tipping forward. Sharply bob forward, causing John's hand to shoot down, gripping your shoulder as the back of your throat welcomes the head of his cock.

Soft throat tissue engulfing his tip, wet heat sending roaring pleasure throughout his body, bubbling up his throat, pouring out as laboring moans. Echoing off the white bathroom tiles before hurriedly being snuffed out by his hand, fighting the smile that prickles along your lips, moans poorly, muffling into his palm. Fingers digging deeper into the meat of your shoulder, throat tightening around him, bobbing shortly, allowing the head of his cock to fuck your throat.

Tears painfully brimming in your eyes, blurring your view of John swimming in hot ecstasy. Lungs burning for the air, John's girth halts, fighting back, gags, only to fail.

Sliding John's length out from your throat, strings of thick spit stretch, attached to the hard, glimmering head of John's cock. Smiling, seeing as he watches them break, not allowing the man to catch his breath, wrapping a warm hand around his cock, stroking its hard length in a swirling motion. Taking in each of his balls, sucking, kneading them tenderly with your tongue.

Moans growing louder in volume, watching through fluttering lashes as John's hand starts to slip from his parted lips, mind slowly melting with each gentle pull you give his balls.

Releasing the left side with a prominent pop, feeling his cock twitch against your palm before your lips hungrily wrap back around his hard girth. Humming happily, tasting John's cock once again, seeing as the man drowns mindlessly in the pleasure you delightfully give him.

Hand massaging John's spit-lubed balls, lightly tugging them down, then lifting them up, inducing his hips to lock. Legs tighten their stance, hearing air sharply inhale through his teeth before letting out a hoarse moan. Hand moving, cupping your open jaw, hips rocking with your feral bobs, biting moans down into his bottom lip.

"I'm gonna cum-" John warns, weakly, before buckling under his climax, using both his hands to cup your head. Fingertips burrowing harshly into your skin, lightly thrusting against your tongue that massages, helping pump every drop of cum from John's balls.

Cumming pooling atop your tongue, allowing it to pool just enough for a full gulp, swallowing all of it down. Slowly sucking along his length, squeezing every bit of cum that hides within his shaft, causing John to shiver, followed by a quiet "Fuck."

Lips pulling up into a grin, letting go of John's softening cock with a loud pop, giving his tip a final lick, producing one more breathless whine from his perfect lips.

Chest blooming with satisfaction, gazing up at John, observing him catching each breath your warm mouth had stolen from him. Savoring each second you have of the view, basking in the gaze of John's brown eyes, flaccid cock inches away from your lips. Swallowing down the ask of another simple favor before painfully rising from your knees.

Glancing over at John, watching as he shuffles over to the paper towel dispenser, waving his hand, only to receive nothing in return. The grin on your face grows larger at the idea that sparks within your provoked mind. Stripping off your shirt, bundling it up before holding it out to John.

"Here, use this," you offer, earning back his beautiful brown eyes. Brows lightly knitting together as he takes it, whipping away your spit and what cum that sadly didn't get swallowed up.

Finishing at his balls, handing it back to you, seeing John realize what you'd handed him, smiling at the man's stunned look.

"That was your shirt?" he asks, eyes flickering between you and the now cum and spit stained shirt.

"Yeah, why you want it?" You tease, laughing, causing his brows to raise with stress.

"No," he answers, head shaking, eyes still glued to your shirt.

Biting back another laugh, leaning down, picking up your bag, hearing John buckle and button himself back up. Peeking over just as he zips up his pants before moving to grab his own bag.

"So was that worth the good word?" you teasingly ask, leaning against the bathroom door.

"Yeah, I'll put in a good word for you," he says, lightly laughing more from disbelief, then looking to you.

Nodding while biting your grinning lip, hand moving to the door handle, unlocking it.

"Thank you, John," you say, taking in the sight of him one last time before opening the door behind you.

Stepping out into the cold hall, a stark contrast to the humid bathroom. Body vibrating, still tasting John on your tongue, not caring if he'd put in the good word, having what you wanted most from him sitting warmly in your stomach.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.