Teacher's Pet

In moments like this, I wished I could’ve found someone from the Manor, but there were rules against continuing outside the Manor. And I wasn’t exactly out, there were still many parts of me that were inside, and most of those parts wanted to come out, but I didn’t want my last month of college to change how people saw me.

“Can I lick you?” I whispered, letting my tongue roll around and flick. “I just want a taste.”

Professor Stirling’s face was in my mind. I couldn’t let it go. I wasn’t holding onto it, it was just stuck there, like someone had super-glued his face to a board and now there was no way of tearing it down. But I didn’t mind, I wanted him now. My dick wanted him now.

He wasn’t the usual type I’d go for. My type were usually people who would worship my body and beg me to stay the night. But something about the taboo nature of feeling something for Professor Stirling got me solid.

I was ready for him to use his strict voice and command me.

Pay attention. My voice conjured his voice, the sharp snapping sound to it. Good kitten.

“That’s right,” I let out in a pant. “I’m a good kitten.” My toes curled, grabbing at the edge of my trousers and attempting to pull them down. “I’m fantastic.” That was what I wanted, someone else to be in control for once. I wanted to beg, and I wanted to surrender everything to someone else. But that wasn’t something that was going to happen soon, especially since I wasn’t going to seek my teacher to satisfy this newfound curiosity.

Come for me kitten.

Halfway out of my underwear, tossing my cock, I came. Cum pumped against the fabric of my underwear, collecting in the cloth. I continued to squeeze my hand around the shaft of my cock, almost denying the last of the cum to surface.

In the moment of post-nut clarity, I regretted the way I came. The thought of Professor Stirling and the words he’d said to me were almost disgusting to think of now.

I promptly undressed and wrapped a towel around my waist before heading to the shower room with my caddy in hand. The shower room was empty, and in the mirrors, I looked at myself. My slim physique and broad muscular shoulders, a mix of swimming and being on the wrestling team in high school. There were red marks on my skin and some faded teeth marks.

Those men really wanted to fuck me. My ego was satisfied for a little while. I didn’t blame them. If I was me, I’d want to fuck me too. I caught a look at the hair on my chest, the swim team required to be clean shaven, something about being more aerodynamic, as usual, I wasn’t listening when I was told.

In my shower caddy, I had my shampoo, conditioner, soaps, and gels. And then the hair removal cream. Nobody wanted razer bumps or burn on their skin, especially not when they wore Speedos most of the time.

As I went through my routine and applied the hair removal cream, I went even further south and applied a little squirt of it against my hole. I rarely shaved my hole, because I was a top.

I usually left the cream on for about five minutes, but after two, the cream burned my hole. I yelped as the fiery pain held me its grasp. Ice cold water shot out of the nozzle, and with my best effort, I back my ass up as the water washed through it, instantly cooling it.

Strands of hair washed down my legs. I swiped a hand down my hole. There was no hair. And the burning was gone completely. I clenched my cheeks together. A new strange feeling, but I was oddly curious to explore it some more.

I pressed a finger to my hold and gently inserted it. Immediately, I pulled back out. “Maybe another time,” I whispered as I dragged my body under the shower water and let it rinse the hair remover from the rest of my body.