THE FIRST TIME
Peter had spent the entire week in a state of anxious anticipation. He'd shown up at 8 PM exactly, wearing jeans and a t-shirt that he'd changed in and out of three times before settling on.
Professor Cross was waiting, his office door open, dim lighting casting shadows that made the space feel intimate rather than professional.
"Lock the door," Professor Cross instructed the moment Peter entered.
Peter did, his hands shaking slightly.
"Nervous?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You should be." Professor Cross stood from his desk chair and moved closer. "This is your last chance to leave, Peter. Once we start this, there's no going back. You understand that?"
"I understand."
"And you want this? You're not just doing this for the grade?"
That gave Peter pause. Was he doing this just for the grade? Or had he been fantasizing about Professor Cross for weeks, imagining what it would be like to be touched by those strong hands, claimed by that commanding presence?
"I want this," Peter admitted. "The grade too. But I want this."
"Then strip."
Peter pulled off his shirt with shaking hands, then his jeans, then his boxers, until he stood completely naked in his professor's office.
Professor Cross circled him slowly, assessing. "Have you been with men before?"
"Yes. A few."
"Bottom or top?"
"Bottom. Always bottom."
"Good. Because I don't bottom for anyone." He stopped in front of Peter, his hand coming up to grip Peter's jaw. "On your knees."
Peter dropped immediately, and Professor Cross unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled out his cock.
Peter's eyes went wide.
Fourteen inches. Thick. Perfect. Intimidating.
"Think you can handle it?" Professor Cross asked, stroking himself slowly.
"I'll try," Peter whispered.
"Open."
Peter opened his mouth and Professor Cross pushed inside, groaning at the wet heat. Peter gagged as the thick shaft hit the back of his throat, but Professor Cross didn't stop, just held Peter's head and fucked his face with controlled thrusts.
"That's it. Good boy. Take it."
Tears streamed down Peter's face, saliva dripping from his chin, but he didn't pull away. Didn't want to. He wanted to please this man, wanted to prove he could handle whatever was given to him.
When Professor Cross finally pulled out, Peter gasped for air.
"Desk. Bend over."
Peter scrambled to obey, bending over the massive oak desk, his ass in the air, completely exposed.
He heard a drawer open, the sound of lube, and then fingers.....slick and insistent....pushing inside him. Professor Cross prepared him thoroughly, adding more fingers, stretching him, making sure he was ready.
"This is going to hurt," Professor Cross warned, positioning his massive cock at Peter's entrance. "But you're going to take it. All of it. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
The first push was overwhelming. Peter cried out as his body stretched around that thick shaft, accommodating inch after impossible inch. It burned, it ached, it was too much.....
And then Professor Cross bottomed out, and Peter was completely filled in a way he'd never experienced.
"Breathe," Professor Cross commanded, holding still. "Let your body adjust."
Peter breathed, and slowly the pain transformed into something else. Into fullness. Into pleasure. Into need.
"Move," Peter gasped. "Please, Professor, move."
Professor Cross did....pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, and Peter screamed at the intensity. Then again. And again. Until Peter was sobbing and begging and pushing back to meet every brutal thrust.
That first time, Professor Cross fucked him for an hour. Made him come twice. Filled him with cum and made him keep it inside while he pulled up his pants and walked home.
And Peter had never felt more satisfied in his life.
*******
BACK TO THE PRESENT
"And now here we are," Professor Cross said, pulling Peter up from the desk and into his arms. "Three weeks later. And you're addicted, aren't you?"
"Yes," Peter admitted against his chest. "God, yes."
"Good. Because this arrangement continues until graduation. Twice a week. Thursday and Sunday nights. You come to my office, I fuck you senseless, and you pass my class."
"What about after graduation?"
Professor Cross's expression softened slightly. "We'll figure that out. But for now, this stays between us. No one can know."
"I won't tell anyone."
"Good boy." He kissed Peter.....deep, possessive, claiming. "Now get dressed. We're not done yet."
"We're not?"
"Not even close. You came once. I need at least two more from you before I let you leave."
Peter's cock, which had started to soften, immediately hardened again.
Professor Cross noticed and smiled. "That's what I thought. Couch. On your back. Legs up."
Peter scrambled to obey, positioning himself on the leather couch, his legs pulled back toward his chest, his hole still leaking cum, completely exposed and ready.
Professor Cross stripped off his shirt, revealing a torso that made Peter's mouth water.....defined abs, strong chest, arms that could pin him down effortlessly.
"This time," Professor Cross said, positioning himself between Peter's legs, "I want to see your face when you come."
He pushed inside in one smooth thrust, and Peter moaned at the familiar stretch, the perfect fullness.
"Look at me," Professor Cross commanded, starting to move with deep, controlled strokes. "Keep your eyes on me."
Peter did, maintaining eye contact as Professor Cross fucked him, and the intimacy of it was almost too much. This wasn't just forbidden fucking anymore. This was something deeper.
"You're mine now," Professor Cross said, his pace increasing. "Do you understand that? Mine."
"Yes," Peter gasped. "Yours. Only yours."
"Good. Because I don't share. And after graduation, we're going to figure out how to make this work. Properly."
"Really?"
"Really. Now come for me again. Show me how much you want that."
Professor Cross angled his hips, hitting Peter's prostate with every thrust, and Peter came untouched.....his cock spurting between their bodies, his ass clenching around that massive shaft, his whole body shaking with the intensity.
"Perfect," Professor Cross groaned, his own rhythm faltering. "So fucking perfect."
He came again, adding more to the cum already inside Peter, marking him, claiming him completely.
When they finally separated, both exhausted and satisfied, Professor Cross pulled Peter against him on the couch.
"Same time Sunday?" Peter asked.
"Same time Sunday," Professor Cross confirmed. "And every Thursday after that. Until graduation. And then....."
"And then we figure it out."
"Exactly."
Peter smiled, settling against his professor's chest, already counting down the hours until their next session.
He'd come for extra credit.
But he'd found something much more valuable instead.