Chapter 139 Fuck Me, Daddy Professor

• Fuck, I’d been dripping just sitting there. Professor Hale was handing back papers like it was nothing, but I could feel his eyes snag on me every time he passed a desk. That slow, burning look. The one that said he knew exactly what I was doing. I crossed my legs extra slow when he got to mine, letting my skirt ride so high the lace tops of my thigh-highs peeked out. No panties that day. Just bare, slick skin and the cool air kissing my swollen clit. I’d edged myself in the bathroom stall right before class—three fingers deep, imagining his thick cock instead, stopping just before I came. Now I was throbbing, desperate, and loving every second of the torture.
• He dropped my essay with a controlled flick. Red ink screamed “D-” across the top. I bit my lip hard enough to taste copper and looked up at him through my lashes, all innocent pout.
• “Office hours,” he said quietly, voice like a warning shot. “Now.”