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I slipped into the classroom a little late, backpack slung over one shoulder, trying not to draw too much attention. Professor Hammock was already at the front of the room, writing something on the board in her neat, precise handwriting. The moment I stepped through the door, her eyes flicked up and locked onto me. She didnât say anything, but the way her gaze lingered just a second too long made my stomach flip. She was wearing that fitted blue blouse again, looking every bit the strict, untouchable physics professor.
Throughout the entire lesson I could barely focus. Every time she turned to face the class, her eyes seemed to find me. Every time she leaned over a studentâs desk to explain something, I caught myself staring at the curve of her hips, the way her pencil skirt hugged her thighs. I knew I was failing this class badly, but right now that felt like the least dangerous thing about being in this room.
The bell finally rang. Students started packing up and heading for the door in a noisy wave. I was halfway out of my seat when Professor Hammockâs voice cut through the chatter, calm and clear:
âEveryone except you â stay after class for a moment.â
A few people glanced at me with pity or curiosity, but they all filed out quickly. The door clicked shut, and suddenly the classroom felt much smaller. Much quieter.
Professor Hammock set her marker down and turned fully toward me, leaning back against the edge of her desk with her arms loosely crossed. The late afternoon light made her look even more composed⌠and somehow even more intimidating. She studied me for a beat, then spoke in that smooth, authoritative tone:
âI think you already know why I asked you to stay.â
My heart slammed against my ribs. Fuck.
âOh God,â I stammered, cheeks burning, âdid my friends tell you about your photos in my phone? I swear it wasnâtâ Iâ I didnât mean for anyone to see them, I justââ
Professor Hammockâs eyes widened in genuine surprise. For a split second she looked completely thrown. Then her expression shifted â a slow, barely-contained smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, something warm and dangerously amused flickering in her gaze. She tilted her head slightly, holding back a full smile as she looked at me.
âSweetie,â she said softly, her voice dropping into something far too gentle for a teacher, âI was gonna talk with you about your grades.â
She pushed off the desk and took one slow step closer, that little smirk still playing on her mouth.
âBut since you mentioned it⌠now Iâm very curious about these photos.â
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 sheâd just discovered the most delicious secret.
I shot up from my chair so fast it scraped loudly against the floor.
âN-no, waitâ I mean, itâs not like that!â I panicked, words tumbling out stupid and fast. âTheyâre just⌠um⌠screenshots! For⌠studying! Yeah, studying your⌠face⌠for physics motivation or somethingâ I swear I delete them every nightâ okay maybe not every night butâ fuck, that sounds worseââ
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 didnât 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.
âStudying my face, huh?â she murmured, voice low and teasing, that smirk turning into a soft, predatory smile. âOr were you studying something else while looking at my photos late at night?â
I swallowed hard, cheeks on fire. âI⌠I didnâtâ itâs notâ please donât tell anyone, Missâ Iâll delete them right now, Iâllââ
âShhh.â Professor Hammock leaned in closer, her lips barely an inch from my ear. Her breath was warm against my skin as she whispered, âIâm not mad, baby. Actually⌠Iâm flattered.â
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.
âShow me.â
My heart nearly stopped. âW-what?â
âShow me the photos you have of me on your phone,â she said, voice dropping even lower, smooth like velvet and dripping with authority. âRight now. Unless youâd rather I fail you for real⌠or maybe youâd prefer I reward good girls who are honest with their professor.â
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.
âCome on, baby,â she purred, eyes dark with want. âDonât make me ask twice.â
âFuckâŚâ 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 â 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 â satisfied, arrogant, and so fucking hot it made my knees weak.
âOh, babyâŚâ she murmured, voice dripping with teasing delight. Her hand slid from my waist to cover mine on the phone, steadying my trembling fingers. âSaving all these pretty pictures of your professor. Surfing, climbing, working out⌠Youâve been such a little pervert, havenât you?â
I tried to close the app, but she gently pushed my hand away, scrolling slowly through the photos herself with her thumb.
âMmm, this oneâs my favorite,â she said, voice low and teasing as she stopped on a gym selfie of her flexing. âYou 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 youâre all wet and desperate?â
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 â her breasts against mine, her thigh sliding between my legs just enough to make me whimper.
âTell me,â she whispered hotly against my ear, still scrolling through more photos with that smug little smile. âWhich one do you look at the most when youâre fucking yourself thinking about me?âŚâ
She pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, her expression pure smug satisfaction mixed with raw hunger.
âGo on. Tell me.â
âIâ I actually am late for my next class,â I blurted out desperately, trying to slip sideways and escape the heat of her body. âYeah and the professorâs really strict so I shouldââ
Professor Hammockâs 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.
âIâm not stupid, baby,â 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 â 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.
âI⌠I like this oneâŚâ 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. âMmm, you have great taste, baby.â Her eyes flicked back to mine, dark and teasing. âYou know⌠if you love them so much, why not just ask to see them in person?â
My brain completely short-circuited. A full gay panic attack hit me like a truck â face burning, chest tight, thighs pressing together involuntarily as filthy images flooded my mind. I couldnât 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.
âDoesnât that feel nice?â 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 â 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.
âGood girl,â she praised softly. âSee? No need to hide behind photos anymore. You can touch the real thing now⌠if youâre brave enough to admit how badly you want it.â
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 couldnât look away from where my hands were touching her. My brain was melting.
âI want it so fucking badâŚâ I whispered, voice shaky and raw. âI crave it every fucking night.â
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 sheâd disappear if I stopped.
Professor Hammockâs 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.
âEvery night, hm?â she murmured, voice dropping into something filthy and sweet. âTell me more, baby. What do you do when youâre 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?â
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.
âDonât get shy now,â she teased, lips brushing the shell of my ear. âI just need you to tell me exactly how you touch yourself thinking about me.âÂ
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.
âGo on, baby. Keep those pretty hands on me and tell your professor how you fuck yourself every night dreaming of this.â
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.
âEvery night⌠after I get home, I lock my door and open my phone. I go straight to your photos⌠the ones where youâre 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 itâs 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 thereâs a video of you talking and I cum while listening to your voice, pretending youâre telling me what a dirty girl I am for you.â
Professor Hammockâs 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.
âFuck, baby⌠such a needy little whore for your professor â she praised, voice thick. âNow I want you to demonstrate exactly how you like doing it. Right here. Right now.â
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 â 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.
âThatâs it, baby⌠just like that. Rub that pretty clit for me.âÂ
âYou like squeezing my tits while you touch yourself? Go ahead, squeeze harder â feel how they fit in your hand. Youâve been dreaming about them, havenât you?â
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.
âMmm, good girl,â she purred, voice dripping with approval. âFuck yourself deeper. Imagine those are my fingers stretching you open instead.â
âLook 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. Youâre making such a mess already⌠I can hear how wet you are.â
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.
âFaster, baby. Show me exactly how you cum thinking about your professor. Donât hold back⌠I want to watch my dirty little student fall apart for me.â
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.
âEyes up here, baby,â she ordered softly, voice thick with lust. âGo on. Squeeze them bare. These are the tits youâve been creaming your panties over every night. Touch them like the desperate little pervert you are.â
I didnât 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 Iâd imagined â warm, full, and so fucking perfect. I pinched and rolled her nipple between my fingers, moaning loudly as I kept fucking myself faster.
âThatâs it⌠play with professorâs tits while you finger that greedy little pussy,âÂ
Christina groaned, her voice getting filthier. âYou like how they feel? Bet youâve cum thinking about sucking on them, havenât you? My dirty little student touching herself to her professorâs body like a whoreâŚ. Rub your clit faster for me. I want to hear how sloppy you are.â
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.
âFuckâ Missâ Iâm so closeâŚâ I gasped, voice breaking.
âCome on, baby. Cum for me,â she growled, leaning closer so her bare breasts brushed against my face. âCum while youâre squeezing your professorâs 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.â
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 â her tongue sliding into my mouth as she muffled my cries while I kept trembling through the aftershocks.
She didnât 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.
âShhh, baby⌠good girl,â she whispered hotly, thumb brushing over my swollen lips. âSuch a noisy little slut when you cum⌠I fucking need you home.âÂ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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the artemis ii mission reminds me why i love humanity so much. they play pink pony club for the astronauts. they have issues with microsoft outlook. one of the astronauts named a moon crater after his late wife. a jar of nutella just flew by. they make 67 memes because theyâre big nerds with huge hearts who say that we look beautiful from there. they call dibs on sleeping arrangements and the mission specialist likes sleeping like a bat. the pilotâs daughter shows her dad off on her social media.
dunno just sometimes helps to think that we can do things like that.
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