One
of my favorite erotic tropes involving an older man and younger woman pairing
is the professor/student dynamic. In my Chemical [se]X Volume 2 story, "Elevator
Confidential," my protagonist describes a similar scenario to the story
below—but not the same. Another element I find very arousing is spanking. It's
only briefly mentioned in "Elevator Confidential," but the following
story involves the protagonist exploring her secret desire to be spanked.
Please
click on the badge below the story to read all the other Wicked Wednesday posts!
Hope
you enjoy,
Ria ;)
Warning: Contains spanking and dirty talk with name calling.
Secret Desires
By Ria Restrepo
Copyright ©2019. All rights reserved.
Chewing
on my lower lip, I stared at the file labeled "Private" with my
finger hovering over the trackpad button. My curiosity was the devil on my
shoulder urging me on while the angel demanded that I respect my mentor's
privacy.
I'd
come by his office after hours to pick up the essays he wanted me to read from
his Introduction to American Literature course. A teaching assistant's job was
never done. Not that I minded. He was pretty cool as faculty advisors went and
actually seemed to value my opinion.
His
office had been locked and dark when I entered, but he'd left his laptop on his
desk—which was strange. He usually took it everywhere he went. Shrugging off
the oddity, I shifted the laptop aside to get at the folder I needed. That's
when the computer woke up from sleep mode and I noticed the tempting icon.
I
sat down in his leather chair as good and bad waged war in my psyche. My
well-suppressed wicked side was very persuasive—and whiny. I could almost hear it
saying, "If he really wants to keep it secret, it'll be password
protected. And you never let me have any fun!"
It
had a point—on both counts.
I
double-clicked the icon, before my annoying virtuous side could make an equally
valid counterargument.
The
file wasn't password protected, instantly revealing a couple dozen documents
with very intriguing titles. One immediately caught my attention. There was no
turning back at that point. My dirty little secret was that I loved reading
smut on the internet, the trashier the better.
That
my mild-mannered, well-respected professor appeared to be writing dirty stories
was a siren song I couldn't resist. When I opened the story, I discovered it
was highly erotic, but much better written than most of the stuff I'd indulged
in online. My professor and I appeared to have the same taste in porn, which I
found thrilling.
In
my prurient explorations, I'd learned that I was most aroused by stories of
older men dominating willing younger women. I was especially fascinated with
scenes involving spanking. They never failed to make me wet and achy.
Unfortunately,
when I worked up the nerve to tell my feminist boyfriend about my urges, he
acted like I'd confessed I abused puppies and kittens. That had been the beginning
of the end of our relationship. Not that I was all that broken up about it. It
was fine if he wasn't into it, but him being so judgmental was a big turn-off.
Still,
I hadn't broached the subject with anyone else since. I didn't even know how to
go about finding a like-minded partner. Those kinky dating websites were a
little too intimidating. But clearly my professor and I had similar naughty
interests. What was even more titillating were the characters in the story I
was reading.
The
protagonist was a college professor very much like him who had a forbidden
crush on his teaching assistant—who sounded an awful lot like me. Could art
really be imitating life here? That thought alone had me squirming in his
chair, getting wetter by the second.
When
the fictional professor found his TA snooping on his computer and punished her
with a thorough spanking, my brain was too hormone addled to consider the
implications. Enthralled by his vivid erotic descriptions, I didn't think twice
before I pushed up my skirt and slid my fingers beneath my drenched panties.
The
professor had just finished warming her ass and was exploring her slick folds
with his questing fingers as I worked my clit hard and fast, so very close to
coming…
"Enjoying
yourself?"
My
heart jumped as fast as I did out of the chair, yanking my hand from my panties
and shoving my skirt back down.
There
my mentor stood in the doorway, his eyes gleaming and his distracting lips
spread into a wide grin.
I
opened my mouth to make what surely would have been an absurd explanation, but
he held up his hand and saved me further embarrassment. "Relax, you're not
in trouble."
That
didn't slow down my heart as much as it would have if he didn't come inside the
office, then shut and lock the door behind him. Although that probably should've made me want to run for the hills screaming bloody murder, I was more excited
than afraid. I trusted that he wouldn't touch me without my consent.
Leaning
against the door, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I wanted you to
read those stories."
"You
did?" I could barely get the words out past my tight throat.
He
nodded. "Out of curiosity, which story were you reading?"
"Spanking
Sue."
"One
of my favorites." He rubbed his jaw like he did when he was contemplating
something important. "Did you read any others?"
"No."
"They're
all about you."
"Really?"
"Yes.
Do you think I'm a horrible pig?"
I
shook my head. "No."
"They
were just fantasies. A way to vent all the desires I knew I could never act on.
Then you forgot your phone here a few weeks ago and I accidentally saw a text
from your boyfriend—well, your ex-boyfriend."
If
my face wasn't red before, it certainly was then. "Oh."
"What
kind of jackass breaks up with someone in a text message?"
I
couldn't help smirking. "The kind of jackass who thinks I'm a freak
because I asked him to spank me."
"Have
you ever been spanked?"
"No."
"Do
you want me to spank you?"
I
didn't have to think about it. "Yes."
The
corner of his mouth curved upwards. "Well, you have been a naughty
girl."
"Yes,"
I hissed.
He
unfolded his arms and walked towards me. "Do you like me calling you a
naughty girl?"
"Oh
yes."
Reaching
me, he tucked a loose lock of hair behind my ear. "What else do you like?"
"All
those filthy names you used in your story." My heart hammered at his
closeness.
"Tell
me."
"Slut,
bitch, whore…cunt."
"Mmm,
you are a dirty slut, aren't you?"
I
was going to dissolved into a puddle of girl come at his feet.
"Yes…sir."
"Good
girl, but that's not going to save your ass."
He
held out his hand and I placed mine in his. In one swift move, he sat in his
chair and pulled me over his lap, making me gasp. As I braced my hands of the
floor, he caressed my backside, kneading the flesh in his strong hands.
"Say
'red' if you want me to stop. At any point. Understand?"
"Yes,
sir."
I
held my breath as he lifted my skirt, then lowered my panties. For a moment, he
fondled my bare skin with his warm hand, making my inner muscles tighten in
anticipation.
He
murmured an approving sound. "I love your ass."
When
he slapped one cheek hard, all the air whooshed out of my lungs as a lightning
bolt of sensation went straight to my core. As expected, there was the sharp
sting of flesh meeting flesh, but the pain seemed to transform as it traveled
along my nerve endings, causing a sympathetic throbbing in my clit that was
pure wanton need.
His
second smack on the opposite side was just as hard and pulled a low moan from
deep in my chest. He continued spanking me in a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks.
The combination of the pain/pleasure and the illicitness of the whole scene
built my arousal to unimaginable levels. I melted in his lap, boneless, every muscle
relaxed, so lost in the sensations overwhelming my body I was barely aware of
my cunt juices sliding down my quivering thighs.
By the
time he stopped, my ass felt like it was glowing red. The lightest touch of his
finger made me gasp and tightly grip his leg.
"Such
a glorious color."
"Please…"
"What
do you need, little cunt?"
Forming
a coherent thought was almost impossible. "Touch me…please."
Knowing
exactly what I needed, he took pity on me, slipped his fingers down between my
slick cunt lips, and found my hypersensitive clit. With the gentlest of strokes,
he quickly sent me soaring into the most intense orgasm I'd ever experienced.
Still
basking in the afterglow, I gradually became more aware of my body and
surroundings. He was soothingly petting my back in long passes.
I stayed
there for a moment, relishing his calming touch, then slid off his lap onto the
floor between his legs. Kneeling at his feet, I looked up from the erection
straining his slacks to his hooded eyes. Not thinking twice about it, I reached
up and freed his hard cock.
He
took hold of my long hair and forced me to look up at him again. "What's
on your mind, dirty girl?"
"I
want to show you what else I like."
"And
what's that?"
I
grinned up at him. "Sucking cock."
Loosening
his hold, he groaned long and low as I took him deep into my mouth. "Your
ex is a fucking idiot."
I
couldn't have agreed more.
