devon

Deadline after deadline had meant that you and Christina had been spending more and more time together recently.

After discovering you both worked better together, it only made sense that you both ruined your sleeping patterns and drank way too much caffeine together.

Another restless night with way too many numbers and sequences rattling around your brains had lead to you both taking a “brain break” which was just code for sitting in silence, sipping coffee and staring at the flickering computer screen.

“The numbers are blurring together” You’d muttered after a few minutes. Your voice sounding tired and slurred.

Christina turned to look at you with a face you’ve come to know all too well. She sent you a half smile, half grimace and leant back to stretch.

You tried not to. You really did, but the way her slightly cropped t-shirt rode up her stomach was enticing. The slight lines of where abs possibly were, peeked out from below the hemline. Her shirt sleeves tightening around her biceps making the veins pop out even more than usual.

The noise of her groan snaps you out of your daze, and with a blush you quickly look down at your lap pretending to brush off crumbs that weren’t even there.

“I think I’m gonna need another coffee or two to get me through this night” She spoke roughly as she sat back properly in her chair.

“I’ll go. It’s my turn to buy” You didn’t even wait for a response before you were up. You needed to clear your brain.

Once you’d walked back, both coffees now in hand and your mind back to focusing on numbers and letters, you kicked the door open with your foot before basically throwing yourself in.

“Thought you’d got lost” Christina smirks from her seat, not even having to look up from her computer to know it’s you.

“The queue was almost out the door. I almost considered leaving, but I don’t want to deal without you having caffeine. You turn into a monster” You joke back with a soft laugh.

“Clever girl” She sighs with a head shake as she takes her coffee. Her fingers brush yours as she does this, and it takes everything in you not to recoil at the touch and gasp.

Instead you blush and nod. The compliment ‘clever girl’ had sent you reeling inside. Your entire body jumping and screaming at the praise she’d given you.

“So uh, did you figure anything else out?” You ask softly, finally taking your first sip.

“No. All I can figure out is that there’s an inconsistency every time the wavelengths hit this frequency” She sighs as she runs them again, and sure enough, there they were.

You take a moment to think before it clicks. It’s like someone’s taken your blindfold off and you can see it all now. You reach forward, sliding her hand off of the mouse before sliding your chair even closer to the point where your knees were touching.

She doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t even move.

She just.. stares.

“This! This is the problem, look! If I adjust the strength of this and lower the strength on that, it should- look!” You exclaim as you run it again and see it works perfectly.

You’re confused when you don’t hear her answer.

But as you turn your head, it’s her face that confuses you more.

Her eyes are wide, pupils huge and dilated. Even behind her thin framed glasses.

Her breathing is.. faster? Yet also not patterned. It’s like she’s breathing only when her body panics and tells her brain to.

“Are you okay?” You ask before you even realise.

She just shakes her head.

“If I have to go another minute without my hands on you, I think I might breakdown and start breaking things.”

She spoke without breaking a smile or even changing the tone of her voice. She was still staring at you like you’d just launched and landed the rocket by yourself.

“What?” You mutter, equally as dumbfounded.

“Y/N. I have been in love with you ever since you walked through those double doors all those years ago, 25 minutes late, bag open and things flying everywhere, hair un-brushed and what was clearly your pyjamas, even though you tell everyone they weren’t. Ever since that moment, it’s always been you”

It takes almost 30 seconds before you even move. It’s a long 30 seconds. You both just stare at each other. Eyes wide, cheeks red and flushed. But neither of you move away, no. Your heads get closer and closer until they’re centimetres apart.

“Can I?” She whispers against your lips.

And you, you just nod.

Your lips crash together, it’s not desperate. It’s not as steamy as you’d wish, but it’s nice. Her glasses slightly bump against your face, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

You pull apart and rest your foreheads together. Panting into each others mouths.

“Holy shit. I can’t get enough of you” she Whispers again. “I need more”.

The words barely leave Christina’s mouth before you’re on her again. This time, the kiss is hot. It’s desperate, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance as her hand comes up to grip your jaw.

You’re not winning this one, you decide as her fingertips dig harshly into your jaw and her other hand closes around your waist.

Your hands reach for the hem of her t-shirt, not tugging it. But just holding it to keep your hands from floating awkwardly in the air.

Christina breaks the kiss very briefly. Only to look down and find the buckle of your belt, before she’s kissing you again and unbuckling your belt at the same time.

You’re pushed backwards in your seat, spine flushed against the backrest of the desk chair.

She lowers herself to her knees between your legs, she’s so gracious in everything she does.

Her hand is in your pants immediately, undoing the zip and then reaching the waistband of your panties.

She breaks the kiss again, only to look up through lidded eyes, panting and out of breath.

“May I?” She whispers as she looks up at you from her position on the floor.

“Please” you whisper, almost whimper out pathetically.

If she notices how close you were to whimpering for her already, she doesn’t mention it. Her mouth is back on your jaw, placing open mouthed kisses along your jawline as her fingers run teasingly along your waist band.

You buck your hips up into her hand, as your other hand tries to move and push her hand into your panties. In return, she slides her hand out of your pants to hold both of your hands together in a vice grip.

“Hands to yourself or I’ll tie them together. Understood?” She almost growls as she presses your hands against your side out of the way.

You obediently nod. Scared to even move after hearing the tone of voice from her. You didn’t even know she was into women, let alone that she was the more dominant one.

Her hand slides up your thigh and back into your waistband. Her index and middle finger make their way below the waistband and travelling down until they meet your clit.

She smirks immediately.

“Who’s got you so wet, huh?” She rasps.

“You. You do. It’s for you. Please. More Christina. More please” You babble out, already losing control of your speech.

With another huff of laughter, she presses her two fingers down harder against your clit, slowly circling them and feeling the wetness spread.

You buck your hips up again, whimpering and tipping your head back. You whisper something, probably another please. But it goes unheard as her fingers slide further down.

Just as they go to make contact further down, the door bursts open-

“Good morning everybody, I hope you’re all ready for another day of crunching down these numbers!” The loud voice of Reid Wiseman rings out.

You instantly jump apart, Christina’s body covering you as you quickly rush to buckle your belt and zip your zipper up before you turn around under the desk and pretend to be working.

He’s so busy trying to hold all of his belongings, open the door and talk to Christina that he doesn’t even look like he suspects anything.

“Morning Reid. What’s got you so happy?” Christina speaks up, playing it off cool.

“The sun is shining. The rockets are launching. What’s not to be happy about?” He laughs as he goes to find his own coffee.

As soon as the door shuts, you and Christina turn to each other and burst out laughing.

“Holy Shit. We were so close to being caught out!” She wheezes between laughs.

When your laughter had settled down she took a minute to console herself before turning to you with a serious face.

“I meant what I said before. It’s always been you Y/N. I’d love to take you to dinner and show you” Christina says as she covers your hand with her own.

“It’s always been you too, Christina. I’d love that.” You smile softly back at her.

She pushed off the desk and took one slow step closer, that little smirk still playing on her mouth.

“But since you mentioned it… now I’m very curious about these photos.”

My brain short-circuited. Professor Hammock started walking slowly toward my desk, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor, hips swaying just enough to make my mouth go dry. That smirk on her lips was growing, dark and hungry, like she’d just discovered the most delicious secret.

I shot up from my chair so fast it scraped loudly against the floor.

“N-no, wait— I mean, it’s not like that!” I panicked, words tumbling out stupid and fast. “They’re just… um… screenshots! For… studying! Yeah, studying your… face… for physics motivation or something— I swear I delete them every night— okay maybe not every night but— fuck, that sounds worse—”

I kept backing away as she kept coming closer, step by step, until my ass bumped into the desk behind me. There was nowhere left to go. Professor Hammock didn’t stop until she was right in front of me, so close I could feel the warmth of her body and smell that clean, expensive perfume mixed with something sweeter that was just her.

She placed one hand on the desk beside my hip, caging me in without even touching me yet. Her other hand came up slowly, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch was gentle, but her eyes were burning.

“Studying my face, huh?” she murmured, voice low and teasing, that smirk turning into a soft, predatory smile. “Or were you studying something else while looking at my photos late at night?”

I swallowed hard, cheeks on fire. “I… I didn’t— it’s not— please don’t tell anyone, Miss— I’ll delete them right now, I’ll—”

“Shhh.” Professor Hammock leaned in closer, her lips barely an inch from my ear. Her breath was warm against my skin as she whispered, “I’m not mad, baby. Actually… I’m flattered.”

Her fingers trailed lightly down the side of my neck, making me shiver. She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her gaze dropping to my lips for a second before coming back up.

“Show me.”

My heart nearly stopped. “W-what?”

“Show me the photos you have of me on your phone,” she said, voice dropping even lower, smooth like velvet and dripping with authority. “Right now. Unless you’d rather I fail you for real… or maybe you’d prefer I reward good girls who are honest with their professor.”

She was so close now that her breasts brushed lightly against mine every time she breathed. One of her hands slid down to rest on my waist, fingers pressing just firm enough to keep me pinned against the desk. Her thumb stroked slow circles over my shirt, sending heat straight between my legs.

“Come on, baby,” she purred, eyes dark with want. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Fuck…” I whispered under my breath, the word slipping out before I could stop it. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone as I grabbed it from my pocket. I unlocked it, thumb fumbling across the screen while Professor Hammock watched me with that intense, amused stare. The second I opened my camera roll, the photos were right there at the top — no hiding them.

Dozens of them.

Professor Hammock surfing at the beach, water glistening on her toned body in that tight wetsuit. Her rock climbing, muscles flexing as she reached for the next hold, sports bra hugging her chest. And the gym photos… fuck. Professor Hammock in tight leggings and a tank, sweat making the fabric cling to every curve, abs visible, thighs looking strong enough to crush me.

The photos were right there, staring back at us. I wanted to die, disappear and get swallowed by the ground.

Professor Hammock leaned in even closer, her cheek almost brushing mine as she looked down at the screen. A low, smug hum escaped her throat. That smirk on her face turned fully smug now — satisfied, arrogant, and so fucking hot it made my knees weak.

“Oh, baby…” she murmured, voice dripping with teasing delight. Her hand slid from my waist to cover mine on the phone, steadying my trembling fingers. “Saving all these pretty pictures of your professor. Surfing, climbing, working out… You’ve been such a little pervert, haven’t you?”

I tried to close the app, but she gently pushed my hand away, scrolling slowly through the photos herself with her thumb.

“Mmm, this one’s my favorite,” she said, voice low and teasing as she stopped on a gym selfie of her flexing. “You like staring at my body during class, baby? Imagining what it would feel like under your hands? Or maybe you touch yourself to these at night… thinking about your strict physics professor while you’re all wet and desperate?”

Her free hand moved back to my hip, fingers digging in possessively as she pressed her body flush against mine, trapping me completely against the desk. I could feel the heat of her through our clothes — her breasts against mine, her thigh sliding between my legs just enough to make me whimper.

“Tell me,” she whispered hotly against my ear, still scrolling through more photos with that smug little smile. “Which one do you look at the most when you’re fucking yourself thinking about me?…”

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her expression pure smug satisfaction mixed with raw hunger.

“Go on. Tell me.”

“I— I actually am late for my next class,” I blurted out desperately, trying to slip sideways and escape the heat of her body. “Yeah and the professor’s really strict so I should—”

Professor Hammock’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist firmly, stopping me in place. She let out a low, amused chuckle, clearly not buying a single word of my bullshit.

“I’m not stupid, baby,” she whispered hotly against my ear, her voice dripping with dark amusement as she chuckled again. The sound sent shivers straight down my spine.

I froze. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely think. Fuck it.

Hands still shaking, I scrolled through the camera roll again and stopped on one of my favorites — the photo of her rock climbing. She was in a tight tank top, back muscles beautifully defined, sweat glistening on her skin… and that sexy back tattoo peaking under her tank top.

“I… I like this one…” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted the phone toward her.

Professor Hammock looked at the screen and let out a soft, pleased chuckle. “Mmm, you have great taste, baby.” Her eyes flicked back to mine, dark and teasing. “You know… if you love them so much, why not just ask to see them in person?”

My brain completely short-circuited. A full gay panic attack hit me like a truck — face burning, chest tight, thighs pressing together involuntarily as filthy images flooded my mind. I couldn’t even form words, just let out a pathetic little squeak.

Before I could recover, Professor Hammock grabbed both of my wrists gently but firmly. She lifted my hands and placed them on her waist, right over the soft fabric of her blouse. Then she slowly guided them up and down, making me feel the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the warmth of her body underneath.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” she murmured, voice low and sultry, her breath brushing my lips.

A soft whimper escaped me before I could stop it. I nodded quickly, eyes wide, fingers trembling as they stroked along her sides under her guidance. She felt so good — warm, soft, and so fucking real.

Professor Hammock smiled smugly at my reaction, pressing closer until her thigh slotted between mine again, applying just enough pressure to make me ache.

“Good girl,” she praised softly. “See? No need to hide behind photos anymore. You can touch the real thing now… if you’re brave enough to admit how badly you want it.”

My fingers kept sliding up and down her waist, completely hypnotized by the warmth of her body, the way her curves felt under my palms, the soft fabric of her blouse doing nothing to hide how perfect she was. I couldn’t look away from where my hands were touching her. My brain was melting.

“I want it so fucking bad…” I whispered, voice shaky and raw. “I crave it every fucking night.”

The words spilled out before I could filter them, desperate and honest. My thumbs pressed a little harder into her sides, stroking slowly like I was afraid she’d disappear if I stopped.

Professor Hammock’s breath hitched for a second, then she let out a low, satisfied hum. That smug, hungry smile deepened as she looked down at me, eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Every night, hm?” she murmured, voice dropping into something filthy and sweet. “Tell me more, baby. What do you do when you’re craving me like this? Do you scroll through my photos with one hand… while the other slips between your legs? Do you moan my name when you cum?”

She pressed her body closer, guiding my hands a little higher so my fingertips brushed just under the curve of her breasts. Her thigh rubbed slowly between mine, giving me the slightest friction right where I was already throbbing and wet.

“Don’t get shy now,” she teased, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I just need you to tell me exactly how you touch yourself thinking about me.” 

Her fingers slid into my hair, tilting my head back gently so I had to look up at her. She was so close now that our lips were almost touching, her voice a velvet whisper.

“Go on, baby. Keep those pretty hands on me and tell your professor how you fuck yourself every night dreaming of this.”

My hand were still shaking, still completely hypnotized by the feeling of her waist under my palms. My voice came out hoarse and broken, the words pouring out in a desperate rush.

“Every night… after I get home, I lock my door and open my phone. I go straight to your photos… the ones where you’re climbing, sweat dripping down your back, that tattoo showing… or the gym ones where I can see your tattoo under your tank. I pull my shorts down and spread my legs on the bed. I start slow, rubbing my clit in circles while I stare at your body… imagining it’s your hands instead of mine. Then I get so fucking wet I slide two fingers inside myself, fucking myself hard while I zoom in on your tits or your ass. I moan your name, Professor… Hammock… whispering it like a slut while I hump my hand. Sometimes I even put the phone on speaker if there’s a video of you talking and I cum while listening to your voice, pretending you’re telling me what a dirty girl I am for you.”

Professor Hammock’s eyes darkened with pure lust as she listened. When I finished, she let out a low, filthy groan and cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby… such a needy little whore for your professor ” she praised, voice thick. “Now I want you to demonstrate exactly how you like doing it. Right here. Right now.”

Without hesitation, I nodded, too far gone to care.

My hands stayed on her body as I leaned back against the desk for support. One hand kept roaming over her — caressing the dip of her waist, sliding up to squeeze her breasts through her blouse, feeling how full and soft they were. My other hand shoved down the front of my skirt and into my panties without wasting a second.

I was already soaked.

I started rubbing my swollen clit in tight, desperate circles, exactly like I did at home, but this time my eyes were locked on the real thing in front of me. My free hand squeezed her tit harder, thumb brushing over her nipple until it hardened under my touch.

Professor Hammock watched me with hungry eyes, her voice low and commanding as she talked me through it.

“That’s it, baby… just like that. Rub that pretty clit for me.” 

“You like squeezing my tits while you touch yourself? Go ahead, squeeze harder — feel how they fit in your hand. You’ve been dreaming about them, haven’t you?”

I whimpered loudly, fingers moving faster between my thighs, dipping down to push two fingers inside my dripping pussy while my palm ground against my clit. My other hand kneaded her breast greedily, then slid around to grab a handful of her ass, pulling her even closer.

“Mmm, good girl,” she purred, voice dripping with approval. “Fuck yourself deeper. Imagine those are my fingers stretching you open instead.”

“Look at me while you do it, baby. Let me see how desperate you get when you have the real thing right in front of you. You’re making such a mess already… I can hear how wet you are.”

My hips started rocking into my hand, thrusting against my own fingers while I stared up at her, moaning openly now. I squeezed her ass harder, then moved back up to pinch her nipple through her shirt, completely lost in the feeling of her body under my hands.

Professor Hammock leaned in, lips brushing my ear as she continued guiding me with that filthy, sweet voice.

“Faster, baby. Show me exactly how you cum thinking about your professor. Don’t hold back… I want to watch my dirty little student fall apart for me.”

My hips rocked harder into my hand, two fingers plunging in and out of my soaked cunt while my palm rubbed my swollen clit. I was panting, eyes glued to her body as my other hand greedily squeezed and kneaded her tits through her blouse.

Professor Hammock smirked at how wrecked I already looked. Without a word, she started unbuttoning her blouse slowly, one button at a time, revealing smooth skin and a lacy white bra underneath. She shrugged the blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then reached back and unclasped her bra, letting her full, perfect breasts spill free right in front of my face.

“Eyes up here, baby,” she ordered softly, voice thick with lust. “Go on. Squeeze them bare. These are the tits you’ve been creaming your panties over every night. Touch them like the desperate little pervert you are.”

I didn’t hesitate. My free hand shot up and grabbed one of her bare breasts, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh hard while my thumb flicked over her stiff nipple. They felt even better than I’d imagined — warm, full, and so fucking perfect. I pinched and rolled her nipple between my fingers, moaning loudly as I kept fucking myself faster.

“That’s it… play with professor’s tits while you finger that greedy little pussy,” 

Christina groaned, her voice getting filthier. “You like how they feel? Bet you’ve cum thinking about sucking on them, haven’t you? My dirty little student touching herself to her professor’s body like a whore…. Rub your clit faster for me. I want to hear how sloppy you are.”

I was whimpering nonstop now, fingers thrusting deep and messy, squelching sounds filling the quiet classroom as I stared at her naked tits. My hand switched to her other breast, squeezing and groping greedily while my hips bucked.

“Fuck— Miss— I’m so close…” I gasped, voice breaking.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me,” she growled, leaning closer so her bare breasts brushed against my face. “Cum while you’re squeezing your professor’s tits like the obsessed little cunt you are. Show me how hard you fall apart for me every night. Be a good girl and soak your hand for  me.”

The words pushed me over the edge.

My whole body tensed as my orgasm hit hard. I let out a loud, broken whimper that quickly turned into a desperate cry, thighs shaking violently while my pussy clenched around my fingers. I was a whimpering, sobbing mess, hips jerking as I rode it out, still squeezing her bare tit hard in my palm.

Professor Hammock moved instantly. She grabbed the back of my head and crashed her lips against mine, swallowing every loud moan and whimper before they could echo through the empty classroom. The kiss was deep, hungry, and filthy — her tongue sliding into my mouth as she muffled my cries while I kept trembling through the aftershocks.

She didn’t pull away until my whimpers finally quieted into soft, shaky breaths against her lips. When she finally broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected us for a second. She looked down at me with dark, satisfied eyes, her bare breasts still heaving.

“Shhh, baby… good girl,” she whispered hotly, thumb brushing over my swollen lips. “Such a noisy little slut when you cum… I fucking need you home.” 

you walk over and climb onto her. just to steal another kiss. its supposed to be innocent. that’s the lie you tell yourself.

“hi,” christina smiles when she feels you on her lap, her hands land on your hips automatically, muscle memory, thumbs warm.

nothing about it stays innocent.

the kisses start slow, lazy, like you’ve got all the time in the world. she hums softly as you deepens it, head tilting back against the couch, mouth opening without thinking. you feel that sound everywhere. you shift just slightly, and her breath hitches.

you both pause.

“you okay?” she murmurs, forehead pressed yours.

you nod, but her grip on you tightens. “yeah.” it comes out more breathless than intended.

she smiles, smug and pleased, and lifts her hips up.

you can’t help the groan that escapes your mouth. her head drops forward onto your shoulder. this is the thing that breaks you everytime. she laughs.

she leans down, mouth brushing your jaw instead of your lips. “what?”

christina’s hands slide, firmer now. like a switch flipped inside her. you feel it and press closer, knees straddling christina’s thighs, fully settled now.

your kisses get messier. deeper. christina kisses you like if she stops you’ll fade away.

you still suddenly, studying her face—her dilated pupils looking up at you like you’re the greatest thing shes ever held. her grip hasn’t loosened even a little.

christina swallows. her thumb traces a slow line into your hip, absentmindedly.

“can i tell you something without you laughing at me?”

you soften immediately. “always.”

there’s a long pause. christina looks up at her from under her lashes in a way that makes your chest ache.

“i’ve been thinking about this,” she admits quietly. “about you. about us. and what i want to do to you.” her voice drops on the last part, rougher. “and i can’t get it out of my head.”

your breath catches excitedly. “yeah?”

“i want you to sit on my face.”

the silence that follows after is palpable.

you blink. then laugh, just stunned. you have been dating for a year now, and she’s never said anything like that before. never talked about the fantasies she had about you. but now that it’s out, you’ve never wanted anything so bad.

“i’m serious,” christina says, immediately. “i mean only if you want to. i don’t want to make it weird. i just—” she exhales, embarrassed but steady. “i think about it a lot.”

you stare at her for a second.

“it’s not weird,” you murmur against her mouth. “its… very convincing.”

christina lets out a shaky laugh, relived.

you pull back just enough to smirk. “bedroom,” you say. “now.”

and christina knows—she knows—she’s already lost.

you don’t say anything else—just stumble to the bedroom, laughing under your breath, hands everywhere, tripping over each other like gravity’s optional.

christina barely has time to sit before she’s being pushed back onto the bed.

she lands on her back, blinking up at you. you feel calmer now. focused. you crawl over her, slow and deliberate, palms pressing into the mattress on either side of christina’s shoulders.

“you okay?” she asks, voice rough, eyes never leaving your face.

“never better,” you smile. not sweet. dangerous.

your fingers slide into christina’s hair, just testing at first, then gripping. christina’s breath stutters immediately.

then you lower onto her face. the second you do, the second her tongue flattens against you, the second her nose hits you, everything breaks.

christina’s hands fly to your hips on instinct. like she’s afraid you’ll fall apart if she doesn’t hold on.

you gasp, sharp and surprised, your whole body jolting as sensation crashes through you. it’s different, out of this world almost. and you’re suddenly shaking, trying to stay upright, trying to breathe.

“oh chris—,” you whisper, voice already wrecked. “oh my god.”

she does not slow down.

if anything, she gets faster. her mouth moving more desperately, like she hasn’t eaten anything in days. something has shifted deep in her chest. her grip tightens, thumbs digging in as you start rocking without even realizing, chasing her mouth.

“holy shit,” you pant, head tipping back. “god you feel so fucking good, baby.”

christina laughs into her, cocky like she knows. it sends you spiraling. the sounds that come out are broken and helpless. your fingers are tangled into her hair now, pulling without meaning to.

christina’s nose keeps bumping the spot you need it the most and you see stars, head is in the clouds. her tongue is everywhere, so deep, so good, and completely relentless.

“i can’t—” you choke, hips stuttering. “i- im so close—“

christina just holds you tighter, letting the weight of you press down onto her face more. this is exactly where she wants you. she’s waited for this. there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than right here, completely gone.

you finally collapse forward, forehead dropping to the headboard of the bed, still shaking, breathing hard, the room spinning.

for a second, neither of you move.

then christina’s hand slides up your back, slow and grounding.

“you good?” she murmurs.

you laughs weakly, pressing a kiss into her skin.

“yeah,” she says. “i’m… yeah.”

christina smiles to herself, still wrecked, still catching her breath.

“told you it’d be fun.”

you lift her head just enough to look at her, eyes dark, smile lazy.

“next time,” she says quietly, “i’m not warning you.”

She pushed off the desk and took one slow step closer, that little smirk still playing on her mouth.

“But since you mentioned it… now I’m very curious about these photos.”

My brain short-circuited. Professor Hammock started walking slowly toward my desk, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor, hips swaying just enough to make my mouth go dry. That smirk on her lips was growing, dark and hungry, like she’d just discovered the most delicious secret.

I shot up from my chair so fast it scraped loudly against the floor.

“N-no, wait— I mean, it’s not like that!” I panicked, words tumbling out stupid and fast. “They’re just… um… screenshots! For… studying! Yeah, studying your… face… for physics motivation or something— I swear I delete them every night— okay maybe not every night but— fuck, that sounds worse—”

I kept backing away as she kept coming closer, step by step, until my ass bumped into the desk behind me. There was nowhere left to go. Professor Hammock didn’t stop until she was right in front of me, so close I could feel the warmth of her body and smell that clean, expensive perfume mixed with something sweeter that was just her.

She placed one hand on the desk beside my hip, caging me in without even touching me yet. Her other hand came up slowly, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch was gentle, but her eyes were burning.

“Studying my face, huh?” she murmured, voice low and teasing, that smirk turning into a soft, predatory smile. “Or were you studying something else while looking at my photos late at night?”

I swallowed hard, cheeks on fire. “I… I didn’t— it’s not— please don’t tell anyone, Miss— I’ll delete them right now, I’ll—”

“Shhh.” Professor Hammock leaned in closer, her lips barely an inch from my ear. Her breath was warm against my skin as she whispered, “I’m not mad, baby. Actually… I’m flattered.”

Her fingers trailed lightly down the side of my neck, making me shiver. She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her gaze dropping to my lips for a second before coming back up.

“Show me.”

My heart nearly stopped. “W-what?”

“Show me the photos you have of me on your phone,” she said, voice dropping even lower, smooth like velvet and dripping with authority. “Right now. Unless you’d rather I fail you for real… or maybe you’d prefer I reward good girls who are honest with their professor.”

She was so close now that her breasts brushed lightly against mine every time she breathed. One of her hands slid down to rest on my waist, fingers pressing just firm enough to keep me pinned against the desk. Her thumb stroked slow circles over my shirt, sending heat straight between my legs.

“Come on, baby,” she purred, eyes dark with want. “Don’t make me ask twice.”

“Fuck…” I whispered under my breath, the word slipping out before I could stop it. My hands were shaking so badly I almost dropped my phone as I grabbed it from my pocket. I unlocked it, thumb fumbling across the screen while Professor Hammock watched me with that intense, amused stare. The second I opened my camera roll, the photos were right there at the top — no hiding them.

Dozens of them.

Professor Hammock surfing at the beach, water glistening on her toned body in that tight wetsuit. Her rock climbing, muscles flexing as she reached for the next hold, sports bra hugging her chest. And the gym photos… fuck. Professor Hammock in tight leggings and a tank, sweat making the fabric cling to every curve, abs visible, thighs looking strong enough to crush me.

The photos were right there, staring back at us. I wanted to die, disappear and get swallowed by the ground.

Professor Hammock leaned in even closer, her cheek almost brushing mine as she looked down at the screen. A low, smug hum escaped her throat. That smirk on her face turned fully smug now — satisfied, arrogant, and so fucking hot it made my knees weak.

“Oh, baby…” she murmured, voice dripping with teasing delight. Her hand slid from my waist to cover mine on the phone, steadying my trembling fingers. “Saving all these pretty pictures of your professor. Surfing, climbing, working out… You’ve been such a little pervert, haven’t you?”

I tried to close the app, but she gently pushed my hand away, scrolling slowly through the photos herself with her thumb.

“Mmm, this one’s my favorite,” she said, voice low and teasing as she stopped on a gym selfie of her flexing. “You like staring at my body during class, baby? Imagining what it would feel like under your hands? Or maybe you touch yourself to these at night… thinking about your strict physics professor while you’re all wet and desperate?”

Her free hand moved back to my hip, fingers digging in possessively as she pressed her body flush against mine, trapping me completely against the desk. I could feel the heat of her through our clothes — her breasts against mine, her thigh sliding between my legs just enough to make me whimper.

“Tell me,” she whispered hotly against my ear, still scrolling through more photos with that smug little smile. “Which one do you look at the most when you’re fucking yourself thinking about me?…”

She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her expression pure smug satisfaction mixed with raw hunger.

“Go on. Tell me.”

“I— I actually am late for my next class,” I blurted out desperately, trying to slip sideways and escape the heat of her body. “Yeah and the professor’s really strict so I should—”

Professor Hammock’s hand shot out and grabbed my wrist firmly, stopping me in place. She let out a low, amused chuckle, clearly not buying a single word of my bullshit.

“I’m not stupid, baby,” she whispered hotly against my ear, her voice dripping with dark amusement as she chuckled again. The sound sent shivers straight down my spine.

I froze. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely think. Fuck it.

Hands still shaking, I scrolled through the camera roll again and stopped on one of my favorites — the photo of her rock climbing. She was in a tight tank top, back muscles beautifully defined, sweat glistening on her skin… and that sexy back tattoo peaking under her tank top.

“I… I like this one…” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilted the phone toward her.

Professor Hammock looked at the screen and let out a soft, pleased chuckle. “Mmm, you have great taste, baby.” Her eyes flicked back to mine, dark and teasing. “You know… if you love them so much, why not just ask to see them in person?”

My brain completely short-circuited. A full gay panic attack hit me like a truck — face burning, chest tight, thighs pressing together involuntarily as filthy images flooded my mind. I couldn’t even form words, just let out a pathetic little squeak.

Before I could recover, Professor Hammock grabbed both of my wrists gently but firmly. She lifted my hands and placed them on her waist, right over the soft fabric of her blouse. Then she slowly guided them up and down, making me feel the curve of her hips, the dip of her waist, the warmth of her body underneath.

“Doesn’t that feel nice?” she murmured, voice low and sultry, her breath brushing my lips.

A soft whimper escaped me before I could stop it. I nodded quickly, eyes wide, fingers trembling as they stroked along her sides under her guidance. She felt so good — warm, soft, and so fucking real.

Professor Hammock smiled smugly at my reaction, pressing closer until her thigh slotted between mine again, applying just enough pressure to make me ache.

“Good girl,” she praised softly. “See? No need to hide behind photos anymore. You can touch the real thing now… if you’re brave enough to admit how badly you want it.”

My fingers kept sliding up and down her waist, completely hypnotized by the warmth of her body, the way her curves felt under my palms, the soft fabric of her blouse doing nothing to hide how perfect she was. I couldn’t look away from where my hands were touching her. My brain was melting.

“I want it so fucking bad…” I whispered, voice shaky and raw. “I crave it every fucking night.”

The words spilled out before I could filter them, desperate and honest. My thumbs pressed a little harder into her sides, stroking slowly like I was afraid she’d disappear if I stopped.

Professor Hammock’s breath hitched for a second, then she let out a low, satisfied hum. That smug, hungry smile deepened as she looked down at me, eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Every night, hm?” she murmured, voice dropping into something filthy and sweet. “Tell me more, baby. What do you do when you’re craving me like this? Do you scroll through my photos with one hand… while the other slips between your legs? Do you moan my name when you cum?”

She pressed her body closer, guiding my hands a little higher so my fingertips brushed just under the curve of her breasts. Her thigh rubbed slowly between mine, giving me the slightest friction right where I was already throbbing and wet.

“Don’t get shy now,” she teased, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “I just need you to tell me exactly how you touch yourself thinking about me.” 

Her fingers slid into my hair, tilting my head back gently so I had to look up at her. She was so close now that our lips were almost touching, her voice a velvet whisper.

“Go on, baby. Keep those pretty hands on me and tell your professor how you fuck yourself every night dreaming of this.”

My hand were still shaking, still completely hypnotized by the feeling of her waist under my palms. My voice came out hoarse and broken, the words pouring out in a desperate rush.

“Every night… after I get home, I lock my door and open my phone. I go straight to your photos… the ones where you’re climbing, sweat dripping down your back, that tattoo showing… or the gym ones where I can see your tattoo under your tank. I pull my shorts down and spread my legs on the bed. I start slow, rubbing my clit in circles while I stare at your body… imagining it’s your hands instead of mine. Then I get so fucking wet I slide two fingers inside myself, fucking myself hard while I zoom in on your tits or your ass. I moan your name, Professor… Hammock… whispering it like a slut while I hump my hand. Sometimes I even put the phone on speaker if there’s a video of you talking and I cum while listening to your voice, pretending you’re telling me what a dirty girl I am for you.”

Professor Hammock’s eyes darkened with pure lust as she listened. When I finished, she let out a low, filthy groan and cupped my jaw, thumb brushing my bottom lip.

“Fuck, baby… such a needy little whore for your professor ” she praised, voice thick. “Now I want you to demonstrate exactly how you like doing it. Right here. Right now.”

Without hesitation, I nodded, too far gone to care.

My hands stayed on her body as I leaned back against the desk for support. One hand kept roaming over her — caressing the dip of her waist, sliding up to squeeze her breasts through her blouse, feeling how full and soft they were. My other hand shoved down the front of my skirt and into my panties without wasting a second.

I was already soaked.

I started rubbing my swollen clit in tight, desperate circles, exactly like I did at home, but this time my eyes were locked on the real thing in front of me. My free hand squeezed her tit harder, thumb brushing over her nipple until it hardened under my touch.

Professor Hammock watched me with hungry eyes, her voice low and commanding as she talked me through it.

“That’s it, baby… just like that. Rub that pretty clit for me.” 

“You like squeezing my tits while you touch yourself? Go ahead, squeeze harder — feel how they fit in your hand. You’ve been dreaming about them, haven’t you?”

I whimpered loudly, fingers moving faster between my thighs, dipping down to push two fingers inside my dripping pussy while my palm ground against my clit. My other hand kneaded her breast greedily, then slid around to grab a handful of her ass, pulling her even closer.

“Mmm, good girl,” she purred, voice dripping with approval. “Fuck yourself deeper. Imagine those are my fingers stretching you open instead.”

“Look at me while you do it, baby. Let me see how desperate you get when you have the real thing right in front of you. You’re making such a mess already… I can hear how wet you are.”

My hips started rocking into my hand, thrusting against my own fingers while I stared up at her, moaning openly now. I squeezed her ass harder, then moved back up to pinch her nipple through her shirt, completely lost in the feeling of her body under my hands.

Professor Hammock leaned in, lips brushing my ear as she continued guiding me with that filthy, sweet voice.

“Faster, baby. Show me exactly how you cum thinking about your professor. Don’t hold back… I want to watch my dirty little student fall apart for me.”

My hips rocked harder into my hand, two fingers plunging in and out of my soaked cunt while my palm rubbed my swollen clit. I was panting, eyes glued to her body as my other hand greedily squeezed and kneaded her tits through her blouse.

Professor Hammock smirked at how wrecked I already looked. Without a word, she started unbuttoning her blouse slowly, one button at a time, revealing smooth skin and a lacy white bra underneath. She shrugged the blouse off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then reached back and unclasped her bra, letting her full, perfect breasts spill free right in front of my face.

“Eyes up here, baby,” she ordered softly, voice thick with lust. “Go on. Squeeze them bare. These are the tits you’ve been creaming your panties over every night. Touch them like the desperate little pervert you are.”

I didn’t hesitate. My free hand shot up and grabbed one of her bare breasts, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh hard while my thumb flicked over her stiff nipple. They felt even better than I’d imagined — warm, full, and so fucking perfect. I pinched and rolled her nipple between my fingers, moaning loudly as I kept fucking myself faster.

“That’s it… play with professor’s tits while you finger that greedy little pussy,” 

Christina groaned, her voice getting filthier. “You like how they feel? Bet you’ve cum thinking about sucking on them, haven’t you? My dirty little student touching herself to her professor’s body like a whore…. Rub your clit faster for me. I want to hear how sloppy you are.”

I was whimpering nonstop now, fingers thrusting deep and messy, squelching sounds filling the quiet classroom as I stared at her naked tits. My hand switched to her other breast, squeezing and groping greedily while my hips bucked.

“Fuck— Miss— I’m so close…” I gasped, voice breaking.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me,” she growled, leaning closer so her bare breasts brushed against my face. “Cum while you’re squeezing your professor’s tits like the obsessed little cunt you are. Show me how hard you fall apart for me every night. Be a good girl and soak your hand for  me.”

The words pushed me over the edge.

My whole body tensed as my orgasm hit hard. I let out a loud, broken whimper that quickly turned into a desperate cry, thighs shaking violently while my pussy clenched around my fingers. I was a whimpering, sobbing mess, hips jerking as I rode it out, still squeezing her bare tit hard in my palm.

Professor Hammock moved instantly. She grabbed the back of my head and crashed her lips against mine, swallowing every loud moan and whimper before they could echo through the empty classroom. The kiss was deep, hungry, and filthy — her tongue sliding into my mouth as she muffled my cries while I kept trembling through the aftershocks.

She didn’t pull away until my whimpers finally quieted into soft, shaky breaths against her lips. When she finally broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected us for a second. She looked down at me with dark, satisfied eyes, her bare breasts still heaving.

“Shhh, baby… good girl,” she whispered hotly, thumb brushing over my swollen lips. “Such a noisy little slut when you cum… I fucking need you home.”