I grit my teeth and try to keep my composure for the students who care about the material I'm trying to teach them. Most of them are on their phones, while others stare at my tits, paying no attention to what I'm saying. At the end of the day, it's on them. They must pass the exams and do the work to pass the class. Teaching is more than that to me, however. It's about opening young minds. It's about helping them to understand people and why they do and feel what they do.

Teaching a first-year college course at the end of the day isn't ideal. They are spent by the time they step foot in my classroom. For that, I can't blame them. I wish most of them were a little more like Emily.

She is my saving grace. She is intelligent and caring and consistently proves that she is there to learn. I should also mention that she is beautiful. Not just pretty, however. She's hot as sin, creating a different set of problems for me.

It's funny. I've been teaching first-year courses since I was twenty-three years old, fresh out of college. Back then, my moral compass blocked me from paying attention to what the students looked like. I was there to teach and teach only.

As the years passed, that barrier began to break down to the point that it barely existed. Now, I not only notice the sexy students, but I also fantasize about them. I know it's not healthy more than anyone else in the room, but that doesn't stop me. Yes, I might be twice their age, but I still have these deep, burning desires of carnal nature.

Emily is my worst offender. She oozes sexuality while maintaining the good girl image. I'd be surprised if every boy in the class and probably a few girls didn't try to get with her. From what I see on social media, she turns them all down to focus on school. She's a good girl that gives me bad thoughts.

If I make it through the next ten minutes, I can head back to my office and close the door. I can breathe there, finish grading papers from earlier in the day, then fuck myself silly on the drive home. My new lipstick vibe calls my name.

"There will be a quiz on Thursday! I hope you were paying attention! I'll see you all then." Panic fills the room, which makes my pussy twinge just a little. I'm sick of these kids not taking me or my class seriously. A few students, Emily included, will pass the quiz with flying colors. Others, not so much. This is their wake-up call. I hate doing it, but they must understand that life isn't all puppy dogs and rainbows. There is a murmur among them as they file out the door. Once the last bookbag disappears down the hall, I collect my materials and hurry to my office.

The door clicks shut behind me so I can unload my papers and books and take a long deep breath. Emotions rush through my body in the form of chaotic energy. Disappointment that the class as a whole checked out and wasn't paying attention mixes with images of Emily sitting there with her big, bright eyes. I tell myself it's her eyes that catch my attention, but there is so much more.

With another cleansing breath, I push her image to the back of my mind and pick up where I left off in this pile of papers from my earlier class.

I've barely read two paragraphs when the knocking on my door startles me. For fuck's sake. I can only imagine who it is. No doubt, a panicked student is looking for last-minute help before the quiz. Maybe I shouldn't have announced it. CLEARLY, I shouldn't have — there wouldn't be a student waiting in the hallway for me if I hadn't.

"Come in!" I bark through partially gritted teeth. Despite my best efforts, my frustration is evident in my voice and tone.

"Hi, Professor. I wanted to talk to you about the lecture today. I hope I'm not interrupting." Oh god. I never thought I would say this, but I actually wish it was one of the slacker students. Instead, Emily stands there like an angel. Her lips are pulled slightly into a warm smile, but it's the rest of her that takes my breath away.

I feel like I have cartoon googly eyes as they float over her body. Paper-thin leggings leave nothing to my imagination. From the sleek shadows contrasting from strong legs to the slightest outline of her neat little pussy, it's all on display. In my head, it's on display for me, but she is here to talk about the class — I need to remind myself of that. It's one of the most difficult things for me to do, however, especially with her thin green tank top that ripples slightly over her toned stomach. It's absolutely criminal that a girl so slim and toned can have such luscious, big, round, soft breasts stretching the fibers of her top.

I want to shake my head to clear the thoughts that plague me when I'm in her presence, but I can't. That would show my weakness.

"Hi Emily, I'm sorry, I was grading papers. What can I do for you?"

"Are you ok? You seem flustered today." Why the fuck does she need to be so sweet, too?

"I'm ok. I hate that they put this class at the end of the day. No one has the attention span for it." I'm not being dishonest. I'm just not telling the whole truth.

"I think it's great. I love everything about it." Her weight shifts from foot to foot, and her eyes fall to the floor as she pulls on her bottom lip.

"Thank you. I'm glad someone does." I try to focus on the papers, but she reduces me to a sexual puddle the longer she lingers in my office. To make matters worse, her light blend of floral and citrus perfume wafts in my direction. To say she is good enough to eat is a horrible understatement.

"I hate seeing you this stressed."

Everything inside me starts to spin like a tornado when she walks around the corner of my desk. Her scent grows stronger, and her tits jiggle with each step. Her firm, round ass flexes beneath the thin covering, and I want to be anywhere but here. My self-control is being tested, and rather than fight it. I want to run away.

She doesn't give me that opportunity.

Her fingertips knead the tension in my shoulders as she stands behind me. Each slight touch is like a spark that spreads the fire burning inside. I want to wiggle away, but her touch entrances me.

"How does this feel?" Her voice is soft and sensual, while I'm nothing more than raging hot energy.

"We shouldn't…." My common sense takes over and forces my mouth to form the words I know need to be said.

"No, but we are. You need this, and honestly, so do I." Her fingers roam from my shoulders to the small of my back. Then she lets them slip down over my collarbone.

She pulls a little wisp of air between her lips before she leans over me, so her breasts rest against the back of my head. Her fingers dip lower until she gathers the courage to trace the line between my breasts.

"Emily…" This damn common sense is getting in my way of everything I've always wanted.

"No one has to know. Here. Maybe this will help." Emptiness creeps through my body when she removes her hands from me and steps back. Before I can even turn to see what she's doing, she lifts a leg over mine and straddles me before lowering herself to my lap. The difference is that the tank top and bra are gone. I'm left staring into the most perfect breasts I've ever seen. Young, vibrant, full, and yet perky tits hang inches from me.

"I locked your door when I came in. No one will know. It's ok. You can touch them. Please." The quiet, studious girl is gone. In her place is a sexual goddess.

"I felt your sexual energy for months. I've bathed in it. I wanted to do this so much sooner, but it didn't feel right. When I saw your pain today, I knew it was time."

I can't resist. My hands slide up her sides until they meet over her breasts. Heavy and soft, they spill from my cupped hands while I massage and stroke them. It's the little purrs from her throat that have me on edge. I can't stop. I will not stop until I've lived the fantasy that haunts my dreams.

"I'm sorry for what I'm about to do." It's the only warning I give her before my chair rolls back, and she's standing in front of me. One swipe of my hands is enough to clear my desk of books and papers before I push her backward. There is no resistance. She goes with it until she sits on my desk's edge. There is only one thing standing between me and what I want most.

"Lift your ass." I'm direct with my words. I am the teacher, after all. She does exactly as I ask, which allows me to grip her leggings and peel them down until I pop them free from each foot.

"You are so fucking hot." Of course, she isn't wearing panties. If I had known that during class, I might not have been able to finish the lesson.

I'm staring into heaven itself. Her pussy is completely smooth, with neat lines, except for her slightly swollen labia poking out in cute little bunches. It's sexier than I ever imagined. Not only that, but her perfume doesn't come close to matching her natural, aroused scent. My eyes narrow as I fill my lungs with her essence. Her big eyes stare into mine. The closer I get to her, the brighter they get. There is fire there that I've never seen in her before, and I'm instantly addicted to it.

"I'm going to make you cum, sweetie." These are not the sexiest words in the world, but they are my truth — our truth now.

I'm drawn to the crease of her inner thighs. My lips touch down there where I begin kissing her with quick little pecks as I trace her edges and contours. Each kiss gets a little closer to her pussy. Her breath staggers when my chin grazes her now pouting lips. Her scent emanates from her pussy of wild heat as I inch closer to her.

"Oh, shit. Please! Please!" Hearing her beg makes my pussy twinge. I can't say no to her.

"Fuck, yes!" I start with our outer layers. I kiss and tug on each one, massaging them with my tongue, and I work toward her center. It's as though I turned on a faucet. Her wetness practically trickles from her sex as I play with her.

Her back arches when I suck her inner lips into my mouth and pull. I pull hard until they slip out and snap back into place. Before she reacts, I'm repeating it on the other side.

I can't wait to hear and feel her reaction to what I'm about to do.

She doesn't disappoint. When my fingers push into her tight hole, her mouth opens wide, and she pushes her tits high. The moan that escapes her belongs in porn. I don't pause or hesitate. As soon as her luscious pussy grips my fingers, I'm fucking her. I'm not holding back, either. My hand slaps her pussy with each drive while my lips suckle her clit. I pause to lap up the leaking juices before they are wasted stains on my desk.

She writhes with each push of my fingers. Her breaths are shallow, and her heat warms my face as I worship her tight little button. I can't help but reach above me to play with her tits. My one free hand switches back and for between her left and right, groping her, teasing her, and pinching those tight brown buttons.

"Oh, god! Fuck! I'm — I'm…." She never finishes the thought. Her hips thrust against my face, and she covers her mouth to stifle the scream that slips through her lips. Her juicy, slippery pussy grinds against my face, and her pussy pulses around my fingers as she cums. I'm drowning in her juices, as I've always wanted to do. Her honey is sweet when I lick and slurp it from between her folds.

I'm not sure where she is, but she isn't here. She hasn't taken a breath in forever but finally comes down with a gasp.

"Oh. My. God. Holy Fuck. You are amazing." Her sweet voice graces my ears as she rants about the little gift I gave her.

"I knew coming here was the right choice. I think next time, it will be you screaming."

The devilish smile on her face nearly makes me cum. Even while she dresses, my pussy leaks for her. I know I won't make it to my car. I will be fucking myself right here on my desk until I scream out as she did.