[F4M] Your wife warned you about me...
I've been watching you, Professor...
Yes, me. Cassie. You know me... that pretty freshman in your Economics class, who always sits front and center in your lectures. You might not know me personally - but I was always there. Always present. Gazing at you with my starstruck, doe-eyes. Listening intently as you taught us.
You knew of me by my reputation. 'The bombshell blonde'. The party girl. Queen Bee of the varsity volleyball team. The one all the guys in class lusted over, and placed at the top of their tier list of 'hottest girls in college'.
Plenty of the faculty members warned you about me. About my rebellious attitude. About my tendency to wear outfits that traversed a fine line between 'sexy' and 'scandalous'.
I'm sure your wife - who happened to be the Professor of Feminist Studies at the same college - also warned you about me. Every time I passed by her on the way to your lectures, clad in a tight yoga outfit or a form-fitting dress that accentuated the curves of my body, she grit her teeth in silence. As far as she was concerned, I represented everything that she railed against.
**
And yet, despite all that, I know you've been watching me too. Very closely. Don't lie!
I know, I know. You never flirted with me. Your eyes never drifted towards my body, regardless of what sexy little ensemble I was wearing. Our brief interactions were always professional.
But you dropped the ball on at least a couple occasions, didn't you Mister? Like that time you accidentally 'liked' a video I posted on Instagram. Yeah, that video, of me dancing half naked in my dorm room. Gyrating my hips, and twerking my ass in a barely-there thong.
You must have recoiled in horror at the slip-up. The momentary lapse of judgement. But I never brought it up.
Or um... how about that time you eavesdropped on a conversation I was having with a friend? Hmm? You didn't know it, but I saw you behind the door - your silhouette visible through the frosted glass. Busted. I knew you were listening intently as I gushed to her about how attractive you are. How I thought you were the hottest professor in college. And how desperate I was for a long, hard fucking.
Were you shocked at what I said? Possibly. You love your wife. But even she probably never spoke like that about you - even during those first few months of your relationship, when everything was new and exciting.
You lapped up my slutty confessions; the impure desires of a naughty 19 year old coed.
Did I remind you of a girl you had a crush on when you were a teenager? Did you take a moment to wonder several 'what ifs?' Like... What if you weren't married? Or... What if we met in a different timeline, a different scenario?
**
But you didn't fall for the trap. You were far too smart to fall for one of your students, no matter how enticing. I was just a fleeting fantasy. A taboo thought - but nothing more.
After all, you knew your wife would flip if you cheated on her. You weren't about to flush 20 years of marriage down the toilet. All your colleagues looked up to both you and your wife as model intellectuals. The quintessential power couple in academia! Adored and respected by students in equal measure. It was a reputation you earned through years of hard work and devoted marriage.
She didn't deserve betrayal. Bless her - she trusted you. And loved you, with all her heart. You loved her too.
So you went through the entire academic year, and you let sinful thoughts of me simmer in the back of your mind. Never to be entertained or acted upon.
All you had to do was complete your final task, on the final day of the term. Supervising us on our exam day.
**
Now, most students dress for comfort on the day of the final exam. Sweatpants, t-shirts, and jeans were the rule. Clothes should be loose, so that they don't feel uncomfortable or cumbersome.
But I had bucked all trends. Today of all days, I was in the mood to wear something which would really catch your attention.
Black, 'fuck me' heels. White, knee-length socks. A plaid skirt which was cut way too short to be considered decent. It barely covered the bottom of my ass.
A white, short-sleeved dress shirt, which was a solid 2 sizes too small. With just enough buttons fastened to still be legal. The thin fabric stretched precariously against my tits. Accentuating their alluring shape. The bottom hem of my shirt was tied into a knot - leaving my toned stomach exposed, along with a cute belly button ring.
A loose, black tie hung around my neck, and nestled in the valley between my tits.
Finally, I had tied up my hair into a neat ponytail. The look I was going for was studious, slutty fantasy. A coed, babydoll dream.
**
I could see you in the front of the exam room, trying your best to ignore me. Averting eye contact by focusing on random objects across the room.
About fifteen minutes into the exam, I finally caught your eye. And I smiled. Slowly, I unwrapped a cherry lollipop... and began to suck. Sticking out my tongue way more than was natural or necessary. I was making a show of circling the tip of my tongue all around the candy. All while you were looking at me.
I could feel your eyeballs burning a hole through me. You cleared your throat, almost reflexively. A solitary bead of sweat trickled down your forehead.
What even were the rules on licking lollipops during a final exam? Who knows. In the end, you did nothing. You let me keep sucking. It must have been nerve-wracking and arousing at the same time to watch me practically fellate a lollipop while taking my final exam.
Every so often, I'd lean back, stretch my arms and slowly cross my legs. And uncross them, over and over again. Each time, making sure you caught a fleeting glimpse between my thighs. A peek underneath my skirt. Greeting you with brief, yet spectacular views of my shaved, pink pussy. Yes, Professor, I didn't wear my panties for the exam. Am I a bad, bad girl?
I smiled and scribbled something on my exam paper. And scribbled some more.
I'm not sure if the other students noticed my antics. But I knew it was having the desired effect on you - judging by how flustered you looked.
And still, you let me play out my mischievous game.
You could only sit, and fester, and watch, and think about my incredible teenage body. Were you fantasising about how my mouth, my tits, my pussy would feel, if you...? Tsk, tsk. Don't act like you haven't considered it, Professor...
**
*DING DING.*
The bell rang. Time was up. Finally, the exam and the school year were officially over.
"I hope everyone finished," I heard you stammer. Deliberately avoiding looking in my direction. "Pack up your stuff and drop your exams in the pile on my desk. Enjoy your summer break - and see you next term."
The other students groaned in exhaustion. They massaged their aching hands and muttered epithets under their breath.
Me? I sauntered up to the front, seductively cool, and deposited my paper onto your desk. I curtsied and said, "Thank you Professor. I hope to see you soon. Like, really soon..."
My voice was more sultry, more sensual than you remembered. Your blood boiled; your cock twitched. What insane mind game was I playing with you? Was I trying to get you in trouble??
***
Later, in your office, you looked at the exam paper I handed in. I could only imagine the utter shock on your face.
I had answered the exam questions in as many obscene ways as possible. Dirty, outrageous, sexually explicit answers that had nothing to do with the exam. And everything to do with making your pulse race.
"Professor, now that you're reading this, I need you to know something: my pussy is so, SO wet right now. I shaved it just for you. Did you see? 🤭"
"I want to ride your big cock in my slutty school girl outfit. Spank my ass. Grab my tits. Teach me to be your naughty slut, Professor!! 😍"
Page after page of my paper was riddled with the most depraved, fuck-nasty musings of a nymph in heat. No filter. No impulse control. Each answer was more obscene than the next.
"Professor, can I please be your personal dick-sucking machine? I swallow... 💓😋".
"You have permission to use my pussy anywhere, anytime that you like. In fact, I think I will insist on it."
On a question about 'market liquidity', I answered: "I want you to flood my pussy with your creamy cum."
Asked to describe 'non-verbal communication' in one of the questions, I wrote: "What I'd do when we fuck. You would communicate non-verbally with me every time you slide your cock in and out of my aching pussy."
On a question about the benefits of labour unions, my description was as vivid as it was jarring: "I think it would really benefit your cock if I introduce you to all my hot friends. All you have to do is fuck them, each and every single one. So long as I get to join. You'd like that, wouldn't you? All summer long - a union of girls working together to empty your balls!"
It was enough to make you shake your head in disbelief. Oh Cassie!
At the end of my paper, I wrote in loopy, cursive script: "I am looking forward to seeing you after this exam, Professor. There's something I've been craving to do with you all year. I think you might know what it is... Yours, Cassie xxx"
**
I knew what I was doing. Tormenting you, by being a teasing fucking minx. I was leaving you with no choice, really.
You had to summon me to your office.
Simply because my behavior during the exam was highly inappropriate and needed to be addressed. There was also no way you could hand in my exam to external moderators. The things I wrote... holy shit. The school would immediately start investigating you.
But you also knew that calling me into your office could only mean one thing:
Trouble.
**
*5pm.*
The late afternoon sun filtered through the filmy curtains of your office. Setting the room ablaze with a light orange hue.
You leaned back in your deep chair. Taking a breather from a full day of invigilating exams. Waiting for me to arrive for my appointment.
The mahogany desk in front of you was large. With enough space on top to place a large, framed photo of your wife. Along with exam papers scattered across its varnished surface.
You were probably wondering what to make of me. How to deal with the sudden predicament I forced upon you: the XXX-rated exam paper I wrote.
It was enough to make you seriously consider if I was part of some departmental sting. Or a cruel freshman joke. What I did was too scandalous, too craven to be real.
But I AM real. I wanted you to wonder if what I wrote was more than just a fantasy. To let your horny frustration reach terminal capacity. Until you couldn't think or focus. Until you were reduced to a walking erection right in your goddamn office.
It didn't help that you hadn't been laid in months.
Sure, you could masturbate to relieve the tension, and quickly forget about me. But I knew that wouldn't be enough for you. Young, female flesh is what you craved. Just like any other red-blooded male. Anything less would fail to clear the all-consuming, sexual haze that descended upon you.
**
*Knock knock.*
Before you had a chance to properly clear your head, I knocked on your door. And invited myself in.
"Um... so... you wanted to see me, Sir? Am I in trouble?"
My eyes flickered. A smile crept onto my face, all mystery and seduction.
Sat in your desk, you glanced up at me. Your face betrayed a hint of nervousness. But you consciously avoided looking at any inappropriate portion of my body. I'm sure it wasn't easy.
I could sense you hesitate for a second. Taking a deep breath to center yourself, you finally blinked your eyes and frowned.
"Cassie. I think you know what this is about. It's your... exam paper. Your answers were inappropriate. And just... wrong."
"What do you mean? Everything I wrote was true! I swear..." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. And blushed.
"Let's not play this game. You know what I mean. The things you wrote... what you proposed to me - we can't. It's not proper."
Your words were firm, but your body language not nearly as convincing. I had you. At least a little bit. I just needed to be brave and take the plunge.
I made my opening gambit.
"But Professor. Don't you find me... attractive?"
**
A pregnant pause filled the room. Time stopped still, and the world condensed to a pinpoint.
You froze in place, unsure of how to react. I caught you darting your eyes to the photo of your wife on your desk - only to then look right back at me. Alarm bells must have been ringing in your head.
"Wh- Cassie... I'm marri - happily married. I could get into trouble."
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gave me a stuttering mess of a response. In just the faintest, most unconvincing voice. It wavered with every word.
"You didn't answer my question."
I tilted my head to the side, giving you a cute, inquisitive look. Then slowly, I brought one hand idly to my shirt. I gave the top button a playful tug. Letting it go undone. One by one, the buttons popped off, and my shirt slid off my shoulder and onto the floor.
Just as you suspected, I wasn't wearing a bra.
I wasn't done. I turned my back to you. And bent over slightly - to slide my skirt down my ankles. Giving you an unobstructed view of my bare ass cheeks. Gently, I swayed my hips left to right. Offering you a teasing show. Every little movement oozing with raw sexuality.
I twirled around to face you again. Here I was - brazen and unafraid. Completely naked. Commanding you to look. Daring you to make a move.
"Am I more attractive than your wife?"
A stifled gasp escaped your throat. You didn't move or say a single word. Your glazed-over eyes, and the obvious tent forming in your pants communicated all that was necessary. I'm sure your heart was pounding and practically slamming into your rib cage.
"I'll take your silence as a 'yes' then. Don't worry. I won't tell your wife. I'm not one to um... kiss and tell. Well - I won't tell at least."
**
Was I more attractive than your wife?? The question was preposterous. You knew it. I knew it. Even in the prime of her youth, she couldn't hold a candle to me.
My face? Exotic and captivating. Adorably feminine. A mesmerising smile, complemented by cute dimples on my cheeks.
My tits? Unreal. Natural D cups, at least two sizes larger than your wife's. Shapely and full at the same time, they sat high on my slenderly tapered torso. Without any sagging or signs of age. And bounced with a perkiness only youth provided. It's almost comically unfair to compare them to your wife's breasts.
My ass? To die for. No stretch marks or blemishes. Just soft and flawless. The dramatic heart-shape of my ass had been sculpted from years of playing volleyball. It would playfully jiggle whenever I walked in tight pants. An ass which you knew you could just grope and knead like warm dough all day. And mercilessly fuck all night.
Was I exactly like how you imagined, when you pictured me naked in your dreams? The sublime mixture of soft, pliant curves and taut, lean muscles? Judging by how you squrimed in your seat, and uncomfortably adjusted your pants, I think so...
**
I got on my knees, and crawled towards you. Yes, I crawled - on all fours. My tits hung from my chest, dangling lewdly in suspension, swaying freely. As I made a beeline towards the space between your legs.
You didn't respond. You couldn't respond. Paralysis overwhelmed you. I watched you reflexively grip the armrests on your chair. Holding on for dear life.
I'm sure the sensible side of your brain was telling you to shut this whole thing down before it was too late. That this was going way too far. But you hesitated. Every rational thought in your head was being overpowered by the sight of my barely legal, naked body.
Before you knew it, I had my hands on your thighs. You let me take charge. Your pants began to loosen. The mechanics of your zipper came undone. All you did was watch in stunned silence as I worked my magic with my fingers...
**
"Cassie wait. We can't do this. Plea- ohhh my GOD..."
The weak objection dissolved the moment I licked the palm of my hand, and gently wrapped my fingers around your cock. The exquisite touch of my soft skin encasing the steely hardness of your erection. I took control of it - pulling it out of your pants. An instant that lasted forever.
Your steady exterior was beginning to crack. Your legs trembled with arousal. I smiled as I watched you close your eyes and let the sensations wash over you. Oh, you want it alright. I know you want it...
A serious moral line was being crossed - and you let it happen.
"Mmmhhh... you're so hard... I've been wanting to give you a blowjob for ages. I'm jealous your wife gets to suck on this all the time."
"She doesn't like- . It's - it's not her thing!"
I raised an eyebrow at your surprising revelation. And continued jerking you off smoothly as I spoke.
"Well, I love giving head. I want to give YOU head, if you let me."
My words almost made you choke. Was I for real?
Smiling down at me weakly, you shook your head. And managed to force out a few raspy words.
"Is that right?"
"Oh my God, totally. Whenever you want, I'd - you know. Suck you off. Every day. Several times a day. I'm quite talented at it too..."
**
Just to give you a teaser of what I had to offer, I pressed your cock flush against your stomach. Then, I leaned my head down until I was face to face with your balls. And I slowly dragged my tongue all the way from the taint under your balls and up along your nutsack. Making you hiss in delight.
"Mmmphh... your wife never licks your balls either, does she?"
You didn't need to answer. It was obvious. Your missus is exactly the type of woman who would regard this particular sexual act as just a tad degrading. It was completely one-sided and served no purpose other than to show that a girl was willing to do anything to please a man.
But me? I wanted to put in the extra effort for you. To show you exactly what you've been missing.
And I was plenty good at it too. I synchronised my movements - pampering you with gentle, teasing strokes of your shaft. And at the same time, I slathered my tongue all over your balls. Long, slow, vertical licks, combined with indulgent swirls. Over and over again. Leaving sloppy wet trails all over your nutsac.
I moved in closer. Close enough to inhale your musky scent. And placed innocent, soft kisses on each of your balls, one by one. Coating them in stringy, slick saliva. Covering every inch of your swollen balls with my warm tongue.
Squeaking sounds escaped the corners of my mouth as I kissed and sucked all over the sensitive skin of your balls. Mixed in with the gentle *plop* sound each time I released your balls from my mouth. Only to slurp them back in, over and over again. Slowly tugging your cock, while playfully sucking your balls in and out of my mouth was my love language.
Each movement I made was calculated to edge you mercilessly. To leave you teetering on the brink.
All kinds of confusing emotions must have been coursing through your body. Guilt. Greed. Shame. But above all, that sheer feeling of uncontrollable pleasure.
Finally, I withdrew my lips from your balls. Allowing you a moment of respite. But you and I knew that we were just getting started...
**
"Just answer my question. And I'll give you the wettest... naughtiest... most sumptuous blowjob you'll ever experience. Am I, or am I not more attractive than your wife??"
"W- what??"
Yes, I was STILL asking you that question. The incredulous look on your face made me grin.
You were probably wondering in horror - why the FUCK does she keep bringing up my wife?
You see, that's the side of me which you didn't truly fathom yet. I had a little kink. A fetish. I enjoy corrupting you. Testing your moral compass. Exposing your conflicting emotions. Making you confront your own infidelity. It is my sin and yet simultaneously the source of my most red-hot, white-knuckled moments of arousal and desire.
I insisted on playing this teasing cat-and-mouse game to drive you up the fucking wall. Because I loved the thrill of it.
And I knew it was working too. There was only so much psychological assault you could take before your facade crumbled. Before you revealed yourself to be the desperate, horny man that you always were. The longer this went on, the more you were drawn into my world. It was only a matter of time before you caved in.
"God, you're SO much hotter than my wife. That hag. That BITCH. Your body is fucking incredi- UUugghhHHH!!!"
*SLURP. SLURP. SLURRRPPP*
Fireworks.
XXX
Well then! I hope you enjoyed that. This RP is centered on the theme of cheating and betrayal.
I'm looking for someone to play the role of the Professor. An upstanding member of society, who always follows the rules and is a devoted family man.
All your beliefs are slowly but steadily challenged when confronted by one of your students - me. A girl who wants to fulfil every perverted sexual fantasy in your head. Things which, if you actually had the balls to ask your wife, would make her recoil in disgust. Or at worst, would result in a firm slap across your face.
I'm that stunning young lady with an incredible body who you can secretly live out your erotic dreams with. Who will do things for you which you thought only ever happened in porn.
The problem? I like to constantly remind you of what a cheating bastard you are. I like to make you complain about your wife and her shortcomings. Each begrudging confession delivered through gritted teeth, because you knew it was wrong and cruel, and you love her. She's innocent. But you did it anyways. Over and over again. Because that's what drives me to pleasure you even more. That's what makes me deepthroat your cock in ways your wife never could, and ride your dick harder and with more enthusiasm than she ever mustered.
I keep a rolling list of all the sexual experiences your wife wouldn't or couldn't offer you in a million years. Wearing erotic costumes for you? *Tick*. Long, indulgent blowjobs on a beach or while you watch your favorite sports team on the TV? Tick. Letting you film me while you pump-fuck my ass? Tick. Facials and swallowing your cum? *Tick.* Threesomes with the hottie from the cheerleading squad? *Double Tick.* Each new act is a stark reminder of how dull your marriage is, and how fun and exciting I am.
There is also another issue: I like taking risks. Our affair is always a breadth away from exploding in your face and ruining your life. Like how I greeted your wife with your cum still leaking down my inner thighs. Or that time I convinced you to pound me on your marital bed while your wife was out for a jog. The thrill of being caught made me wet. And made you constantly tense.
So, can you be that Professor? I'm looking for someone who can really flesh out the character of a conflicted man. Who can document the journey from a squeaky clean devoted husband, to a shameless, philandering, teenage-pussy-pounding son of a bitch. In a fun, light hearted, but oh-so-erotic way.
For starters, you could describe your wife to me. Her background and personality. Your pet peeves about her, and her shortcomings in bed. Your dirty fantasies and fetishes. Or you can continue the RP. Or we can just chat, exchange ideas and build the setting more. Or all of the above.
No rush. Take your time. I'll definitely respond if I feel there is chemistry.
I'm so eager to read your message, Professor...
Cassie xx