“Doctor Bolcom is in the Private Knowledge section. People are not usually permitted to go in there. How you managed to do it, I can’t imagine,” the nasty security guard that escorts me grumbles all the way to the Archives. He probably thinks I sucked a lot of dicks to get this permission. Not that I wouldn’t have, given a chance. I love mixing business and pleasure. The grumpy guard points to the last row of shelves and turns to leave. When he turns, I give him the finger.
I take a deep breath and move toward a tall figure in the back. It’s a man wearing a classic brown tweed jacket and matching pants. When he turns around, I see he wears hornrimmed glasses. Typical professor. He’s such a stereotype that I want to go straight to him, kneel and pull out his cock to suck. I refrain from doing it, but still stand very close before greeting him.
“Good evening, professor,” I say in a low voice that I hope communicates my unspoken horniness.
A shaky breath escapes the man’s throat.
“Miss Dawson, I presume. I received your unusual request this morning and compiled some of the documents you may want to see.”
“And what do you think of my request?” I ask in my most sultry voice.
“Well, it certainly was detailed, as is the private correspondence you requested to read. There are some very explicit descriptions in those letters. More than I thought people of the time would dare to put on paper,” he says, blushing.
“Like what?” I ask in a breath, standing even closer, the warmth of his body pulling me like a magnet.
“It would be inappropriate to share my thoughts on this,” he tries.
“Please, professor. Tell me. Read some of them to me.”
“I truly shouldn’t.”
“Please,” I insist, our bodies getting even closer.
“Some of this content is truly explicit. Pornographic even.”
“Did you enjoy reading it?” I challenge.
“Yes,” he answers, eyes full of lust.
Our bodies are now against each other. My hand explores down and finds a nice, bulky hard-on under those classic scholar pants. I smile and fall to my knees, quickly undoing his fly. The professor gasps as I open my mouth wide and take his whole cock in, deep down my throat. He grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds it, pumping his hips roughly, only pulling back every few thrusts so I can get some air before diving in again.
“I love a girl with a mind that is both inquisitive and filthy,” he says, releasing his cock from my mouth and pulling me up by the arms.
“Then you should reward me with a good, hard fuck,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand and bending over a study table. The professor takes the hint, rolling up my skirt and pulling down my panties.
“So fucking wet, so fucking ready,” he says, two fingers checking the hot, wet channel where his cock wants to go. He aligns his rock-hard dick at the entrance and rams it to the bottom in one hard push. I scream in ecstasy, and a hand quickly covers my mouth.
“Shhh! We don’t want that nosy guard to come back. However, I have a feeling he may like watching,” Dr Bolcom pants in my ear, pounding me like a mad dog.
I think I hear footsteps that stop. Maybe he is right, and the unpleasant guard is watching. Fuck yes, let him watch. Let him see what he’s missing. He treated me badly, and now he’ll know he could have been the one fucking this pussy roughly. The thought of it added to the pressure of the table over my clit makes me cum long and hard. The professor’s cock spills, too, filling me with hot milk.
“I think he may be watching us,” the professor whispers in my ear.
“Then maybe we should keep this show going,” I suggest with a smirk.