Masturbation Monday: The Professor

Apologies for the silence this past week. The chaos has subsided and I hope to keep a better schedule. For now, enjoy The Professor.

“Good evening, Professor. How may I please you this evening?” The ear piece was a familiar feeling. My client wanted to hear me. Normally, I would say no to these requests, but the Professor was so respectful, I couldn’t help myself but to give him what he desired.

“Show me what you’re wearing.” Warmth engulfed me at the sound of his voice. Stern, but soft. Like silk covering steel.

I stepped in front of the cameras. They only showed me from the collarbone down. Even though they showed me from all angles, I turned and posed. I lifted the skirt to give him a peek of the white cotton underwear covering my backside. The Professor’s breathing was apparent in my ear.

“Bend over and slip your hand in between your legs. Above your underwear.” He swallowed and took another breath. I wondered what he was doing while he watched me touch myself.

Following instructions, I bent over, a camera pointing directly between my legs would capture every little detail. I ran them over the damp panties, back and forth, stroking myself into a frenzy. Changing pressure, speed, and rhythm got me all worked up and I knew he could hear my whimpers on his end of the line.

“Oh, Professor. Please, may I go beneath the cotton panties?” Biting my lower lip was inevitable. Asking permission was always required. Sometimes I wondered if there was a student the Professor desired and I was the replacement.

“Naughty, show me everything. Or I’ll assign homework.”

“You may pull them down part way and smack yourself on the ass.” Gruff command. I knew he would allow me to fondle myself to completion soon. He must have somewhere to be.

Complying, I flip the short skirt over my ass and pull the panties down about mid-thigh. Picking up the wooden ruler, I smacked myself five times on each cheek. The sting felt good against my taut cheeks. Squats paid off, regardless of how much I hated them.

“Good. Remove the panties and play with yourself. I want to see you come.” His voice became harsh and I knew he was close to finishing. I wanted to hear his grunts and wished I could taste him on my lips.

Turning to sit on the edge of the chair, I slid the panties down to my ankles. Teasing a little, I slipped my hand under the skirt and stroked, the head of my cock teasing and peeking out from the edge of the skirt. I’d been leaking ever since I saw the email from the Professor requesting time from me this evening and put the panties on to get them wet for his eyes only.

He was the only one I dressed up for, the only one who got to hear my voice. The only one who would get his screen covered with drops of jizz when I hit the camera lenses around me just right.

“Naughty, show me everything. Or I’ll assign homework.” There was a growl to his voice and I knew he wanted me to break the rules.

“Yes, Professor.” Tonight, I complied. We could have punishment another time.

“Faster, stroke faster.” He gasped when he spoke and I knew, it was time. I reached up and tweaked my nipple, then again harder. I kept pinching my nipple, speeding up as I sped up my strokes until I couldn’t any longer.

“Good, yes. Come, come right now you, filthy slut.”

The words hit me and I did. I shot my load, coating the cameras in sticky white streaks. On the other end, I could hear him join me, and I licked my lips, wishing he could see me. I licked my sticky fingers, just a swipe across my tongue, wondering if he tasted anything like me.

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