Taking Kitten

The story that follows is a sequel to a story written by my cyberlover, kitten_bett_1. Her story, "Watching the Professor" is here.

If you're here to get off, you needn't read her story, but if you'd like to follow the development of these characters, then read hers first. It's a very hot story, based on our mutual fantasies, that she wrote for me and posted at my request. Since she is a good, submissive little slut, she complied. I've sent her my sequel, and she's masturbated to it, cumming very hard. I hope you will too.

*

Yes, your suspicions were true. I did spy you there, in the library, watching me with that little undergraduate slut. I heard you run off, so you weren't there when I told her that we'd been seen, when I told her that her TA, my grad student, had watched us fuck. You know what? She's such a little whore that she didn't care. It turned her on to be watched. We wondered whether you'd gotten wet, whether you'd been masturbating as you watched us. I kissed her goodbye and told her I was going to go find out. She laughed and stuffed her cum-soaked panties in my jacket pocket, neatened up and went to meet her boyfriend. I watched her cute little ass as she strutted away, and wondered what that poor boy would think when her girlfriend came to her, freshly fucked and dripping her professor's cum. But, then again, I knew it wouldn't be the first time she'd fucked another man before meeting him. Such a tramp . . .

Well, on to the matter at hand. Where might you be? Would you have left the library? Would you have gone home? I knew the department had a lecture later, and that you wanted to be there, so it was unlikely that you'd gone all the way back to your apartment. I had been looking forward to that lecture. Not only was the speaker a leader in the field, but there would be the reception afterwards, where I would likely run into you, nibbling on stale crackers and cheese in a corner. My plan was to invite you to the dinner with the speaker. We always took a grad student or two. Why not take that brand new young woman who seemed a bit shy but asked such interesting questions, and always wore such low-cut sweaters? The restaurant we were going to featured cramped booths, and I could easily end up pressed against you as we chatted with the guest . . .

But now I wasn't going to wait. I went to your library carol. I knew you spent a lot of time there, just like most of the grad students. Rumor had it, though, that you sometimes stole away to the bathroom, and spent a bit too much time there. One of my female colleagues swore that she had once heard you moaning softly in one of the stalls. I grinned at the thought. Just my type . . .

There you are, at your desk, hunched over a book. What is it? Philosophy? Literary theory? I watch you for a while and I realize that you're not concentrating at all. You keep crossing and uncrossing your legs, and your nipples are clearly hard, poking through your sweater. You have one hand on your leg, and in the darkness under the desk I can just barely make out the gentle movements of your fingers as you caress your own thigh. Seems like you've enjoyed the show, that you can't get it out of your mind. You look up, glance around a bit, and, thinking you're alone, you try to slip off to the restroom to take care of yourself.

I pop out suddenly from behind a bookcase and grab your arm.

"Why, hello!" I say, "Where are you off to?"

You mutter something about the ladies' room, caught off guard and flushed. I let my hand slide down your arm, my fingertips caressing your hand ever so lightly as I lean up against the bookcase, blocking your way.

"Been in here long? You must have a lot of reading to do these days."

"Well, yes, I do. I've been working on the Kant. The Third Critique," you stammer out, getting flushed.

Your pale Irish skin hides no secrets. You clearly blush as you stumble through this lie, your mind rehearsing what you'd seen in the stacks not long before, when you should have been reading Kant, your heart pounding as you wonder whether or not you'd been seen. What would happen?

I lean in a bit closer to you than I should and whisper, "I don't think you're mind is on philosophy right now. I know what you saw, and I know what you were going to do right now." My fingertips are on your arm again . . .

You look at me, your eyes full of fear and apprehension. What was going on? There seemed to be no one around . . . But you don't want to go. You don't want to run off, or cry out. You're afraid because you're not sure what's happening. Or is it because this is what you've wanted to happen?

I return your gaze and bring my hand to your soft cheek. You don't push it away. I step a bit closer. You don't pull back. I hold your eyes with mine as I let my hand drift down to your very hard nipples, which I caress ever so lightly through your sweater. You gasp lightly and close your eyes, your chest clearly starting to heave as your breath gets heavier.

I know you're mine to take, and I grin at the thought. I lean into your ear as I take your hand. I kiss it softly, and then whisper to you, "Come with me, young lady."

You manage to whisper a simple, "Yes" and you open your eyes. You follow me through the stacks.

"What am I doing? This is crazy . . . Where is he taking me? I have a boyfriend. I shouldn't be doing this. But, god, it's HIM!! I've read everything he's written. I came here to study with him, to learn from him. And when I saw him for the first time, I couldn't believe those dark eyes of his . . ." Your mind reels, but you keep following. Your heart pounds in the silence of the library. Your feet lead you on of their own accord, knowing exactly what your body wants, even while your mind races with doubt . . .

We're in a little-used corner of the stacks, at a carol in the corner with a broken light. I take your hand and draw you in, pulling you close. You look around furtively, afraid of being caught. I pull you close to me, cupping your ass. You can feel my hard cock pressed against you, and you let out a faint little cry. Have you gone to far? How did you get to this place?

I take you in my arms and start to kiss your neck and ears. You collapse into them, as you realize that the warm, wet touch of my mouth on your skin is just what you had been craving. I pull away from you a bit, look into your eyes, and then kiss your full red lips passionately for what seems like an eternity. You melt into me, kissing me back, forgetting that you're in the library still, not caring any longer what might happen, only wanting it to happen.

I pause and look at you again, as I take one of your breasts in my hand and caress it, softly pinching the nipple through your clothes. Your hair is mussed now, your eyes full of lust. I can just imagine the wetness growing between your legs.

"So you say me fuck that little sorority girl, didn't you?" I ask.

You simply nod.

"And did it get you hot? "

You nod again. Your breath is quickening as my hands wander around your body, caressing your breasts, your hips, your back. I bring my lips to your neck, your cheek, your mouth. You can feel your passion grow between your legs.

I look you in the eyes again and say, "You know I've fucked her before, don't you? In my office, last Tuesday, right before she went to your class." Your eyes open wide with surprise as you think back to that afternoon, and to how she sat in the front row with her hair mussed and her clothes rumpled, a faint smell of sex about her.

I notice your shock, and add, "Yes, I fucked her up the ass, in fact, and she took it like the little whore she is. She always does. She takes me in whatever tight little hole I want to fuck her in. Later she told me that she could feel my cum dripping out of her ass as you talked."

You start to burn with anger at the thought. What was I doing wasting time with that stupid little bitch? And right before your class? And why was I telling you this? Had they been laughing at you? Had it been some sort of joke? You want to slap me and run off, but my hands are still on your body. My lips return to your neck. You're much too aroused to care. You can feel a wet spot growing in your panties. Images of me fucking her flash through your mind, and you press your body against mine as you realize that there's nothing you want more than to be fucked the same way.

"You were going to the bathroom to get off, weren't you?" I whisper.

Despite your anger, another nod.

I grin. "Mmm. I like that. Would love to watch you. I think it's so hot to watch a sexy girl like you get herself off."

You're stunned. You'd never had anyone watch you, had never thought of something so kinky.

"And, you know, now you don't have to masturbate, because I'm going to fuck you like I fucked her. Right here. Would you like that?"

What to say? You nod, and manage to slip out a quiet, "Yes."

I chuckle slightly and look you up and down lasciviously. "But first things first. Sit down here," I say, motioning to the empty seat at the carol. You sit obediently, a bit confused.

"First, my dear, you're going to lick that young slut's cum off my cock," I say, unzipping and pulling my hard cock out of my pants.

You're completely taken back. "But, I've never . . . " you try to protest, but I simply bring your face to my dick and command you, "Suck it you horny little slut. Taste her cum on me."

You're stunned. Aroused. Offended. On fire. Again, your body takes the lead as your mind swims between conflicting reactions. You close your eyes and run your tongue along my hard cock, feeling it throb, tasting her tangy residue on me. You can't believe you're doing this, submitting this way to me, in here, where anyone could run in on us. And you've never tasted another woman before, least of all some stupid little sorority slut who can barely make it through your discussion section without making a remark that shows how little she understands. But god, this feels good, to be so dirty, to take such a risk, to do as I say. You're surprised at how this pleases you, to lick my cock clean of another woman's cum . . .

I moan softly as I feel your tongue on me, as I feel your lips wrap around my head and suck, as I feel your hand cup my balls and play with them. You look up to see my face twisted with pleasure, and you can't help but bring your hand between your legs, to feel the warmth and wetness growing there. You moan against my cock as you touch your clit through your wet panties, and you hear me gasp as the vibrations work through my shaft. I hadn't gasped like this when I was with her . . . You take my whole length and feel me thrust forward involuntarily, eager to have my cock down your throat. Your hand is inside your panties now, rubbing your clit, caressing your mound.

I look down at you to see my cock entering your pretty mouth, to see your hand rubbing eagerly beneath your wet cotton panties, "Oh yessss," I moan softly, "Work that cunt, baby. I want my cock deep inside there." You look into my eyes, holding my gaze, watching my lust for you grow, knowing you want me inside there as well.

I pull you off my cock and bring you up onto the desk, hungry for you. My mouth meets yours, and I can taste her on your lips. My tongue enters you as I wrap your legs around me and bring my cock to your pussy. I can feel your clit through the wet cotton, and I rub my cock against it. You reach down, pullling your panties aside, unequivocally inviting me in. I slide into you smoothly as you smother your moans against my shoulders.

Furtively, as quietly as we can, we grind into each other. You can't believe this is happening, that you're getting fucked by your professor here, in the library, after watching him fuck that little slut

"God, you're tight. Sooo tight . . . I've wanted this for so long . . . Since you came here . . .."

"Fuck me," you moan softly, "Yes. Fuck me. Yes . . . Yes." Your hands are on my chest as I embrace you and penetrate you . . . You feel something in my shirt pocket, something soft. My god, it's the panties. Her panties. The ones she stuffed in my shirt pocket after I fucked her. You pull them out and bring them to our mouths. They smell of her sex, of her cum, We sniff and suck them together as we fuck. Harder now, deeper, as her flavors and aroma add to our lust.

"Cum inside me," you gasp, "like you came inside her."

The request is too much for me. I tense up, feeling my cum welling up deep inside me, and I gasp - a bit too loudly - as it erupts from my thrusting cock into your tight wet cunt. Spurt after spurt, spraying powerfully into you, deep into your pussy, joining your wetness there. You feel it hitting inside you, and it puts you over the edge. You clench, and release as your orgasm rips through you, sending ripples of pleasure through yoru whole body, making your pussy convulse around my still-thrusting cock. I hold you close as you cum, your face buried in my shoulders, suppressing the moan that you want to set loose on the world.

The desk. The books. The droning of the air conditioner. All of these things come slowly back into focus as you come down from your peak. You feel my cock slip out of you, and my cum run out into your panties as our bodies slowly peel apart, as we become once again separate people, professor and student. Quickly we reassemble ourselves and embrace again for another kiss. We chat. We agree to meet at the lecture, perhaps afterwards as well, and we say our goodbyes, for now.

You watch as I walk off, and suddenly realize that you still have the slut's panties in your hand. You inhale the aroma once more and grin, knowing you're better, you're hotter. Tomorrow, in class, you'll discretely return them to her, and she'll know as well.