Uncharted waters(closed)

Ethan didn’t want to stop. He realized Dahlia was on the brink of another intense orgasm. He just wanted her to cum around his moving fingers. His thumb was working hard on her swollen clit. His crooked fingers were moving quickly. His fingertips were rubbing her G spot. He abandoned the circular motion. It was quick in and out motion with occasional rub of her G spot.

It was a mess around his fingers. Dahlia’s love juice was flowing freely from her wet pussy. Her nether region was all pink and wet. Her moans and grunts were filling the atmosphere of the room. Ethan was finger-fucking her pussy like a possessed man. His face was inches away from her pussy. He could smell her arousal. The scent of her love juice was extremely arousing. His dick was resurrected by her body language and moans.

Ethan’s mind was under Dahlia’s spell. Every rational thought was evaporated. He was living and enjoying the moment. The past and the future were blurred. Only thing mattered for him was her orgasm. He wanted her to cum like an obedient pet. He wanted her to feel the helpless against her own carnal desire. He wished she would feel ashamed when she would remember these events.

Ethan felt the grip of Dahlia’s legs tightened around his neck. She was trying to bury his face into her pussy. It was the indicator that she was on the edge. She arched her back. Her moans became rhythmic. He knew her orgasm would hit her body any moment so he pushed his ring finger deep in her rosebud. And it had done the trick. Her pussy walls clinched his fingers last time and started pulsing rapidly. Her orgasm was intense. He stopped moving his fingers and buried them deep into her pulsing pussy. His ring finger also felt the pulsing. His thumb also stopped rubbing her clit. It was like stand still in honor of her orgasm. He was exuberant. It was his work. He was the reason behind her immense pleasure and later her guilt.

Ethan didn’t move his fingers until Dahlia’s orgasm seized. He gave a last full on kiss on her still pulsing pussy. He removed his fingers and got up on his feet to see her face.

Dahlia needed several long moments to come down enough from her climax to do more than just lay back, glowing. To have such intense release like this--twice in just the span of a few days, even! It was bliss. Like this whole time she'd been walking around, a big rubber band ball on the verge of snapping into shreds. And now she was just free. Like a leaf, floating on the wind...but every breeze had to ebb eventually. And this was no different as the brunette felt her breathing returned to normal and her skin no longer alight with the rage of lust and pleasure so intense.

Now the room felt colder than before, her legs open and everything bare and dripping as she heard the quiet breathing of the professor between them. Slowly she pushed herself up to her elbows, eyes heavy. Dahlia didn't want to look him in the eyes; he'd see it, written clear as day. She was a whore. A cheap, wanton slut if she had stooped so low as to let her professor do such things to her. Despite her morals, despite her boyfriend, despite...despite everything. Otherwise how could it have gotten this far? He hadn't man-handled her onto the desk or anything. He hadn't really forced her onto her knees and into her mouth.

Had she not wanted any of this, she could have turned him in that night after the library. Even if she had cheated, it would have been likely to be academic probation after the Dean found out what Mr. Stark had done and the insinuations made after he'd touched her. Instead, she'd shown up at least somewhat suspecting what might happen. And she'd...enjoyed it. It was wrong, they both had very good reasons to not do what they had done--and yet.

"I think that's enough...for tonight, at least. I still have work to get finished and class early tomorrow." Such a small voice compared to the piercing cries of pleasure just minutes before. Dal moved her legs from the professor and sat them back on the edge, knees pressed together as though hiding now made any difference as to what they'd done. Her gaze was glued to the floor, her fingers curled around the buttons on her blouse tightly. God, she shouldn't have done this. They both shouldn't have done this...

Ethan realized Dahlia was satisfied and glowing. He felt proud of himself. He wanted her to accept her submissive personality. He wanted her to be honest with herself. She wanted it. She wanted to surrender herself to someone stronger. She wanted to be a free soul without all the burdens of life. Ethan knew that. He just wanted her to make her visit those hidden corners of her soul.

Ethan watched Dahlia silently as she got up from the desk and got her composer back. He watched her exquisite body got up from the desk, then he heard her voice telling him she wanted to leave. He approached her. Her eyes were glued to the floor. Her body language was defensive.

“Miss. Rivers, you can leave. There’s a thing you should remember before you leave. No sex for next twenty four hours. You will not have penetrative sex with your lousy boyfriend for twenty four hours. I want you to remember your orgasm. I know you will remember this for a long time. I don’t want that tiny dick penetrating your tight pussy. Do you understand?” Ethan told her.

Dahlia managed to keep from flinching at the older man's words. Never had she been talked to as such; he was so...blunt. Commanding. He didn't shy away from such brutish terms, either. Dal could scarcely believe she had heard the professor outright talking about her and her boyfriend in such a lewd manner. Just hearing him say the word 'tiny dick penetrating your pussy' was insane. It left the poor girl too stunned to speak, instead just nodding once and then brushing past Mr. Stark to the door. By now night had fallen and the walkway was lit with the lamps as she made her way back to her dorm.

Dahlia was glad that her roommate had TA-ing early mornings and usually went to bed early. She was sure she looked as shaken as she felt, and frankly the girl was nosy. One look at Dal in this state and she'd be up all night prying until she got something out of her. And this was definitely not something she wanted to get around the campus. God, the scandal of it all! As it stood, this had...things were farther than she had anticipated. Had she even expected any of this? Surely she hadn't. Dahlia was a good girl; she was driven and educated and followed the rules. All of this was...

What?

What was this between her and her professor? It was blackmail right? Mr. Stark had her future in his hands and she was just doing whatever it took to make sure the last three years of her life wasn't thrown away with one call to the Dean...

But after everything that had happened so far, she knew that didn't sound completely true. Especially not after tonight. The things she let--no, that Mr. Stark did to her--were so far beyond just keeping him quiet. Sexual harassment was a serious charge. And him actually putting his hands, his mouth on her...that would easily lose him his job if she went to the Dean. Hell, to the authorities! He'd be lucky to avoid prison, she was sure. All it would take is a few pictures or recordings and he'd be nailed to the wall for good.

So why was she staring at the screen of her phone as Cam called and letting it go to voicemail? Why was she finding her neck and face feeling on fire when she thought about what happened? Mr. Stark had violated her! He'd used his power to take advantage of her...of course, it hadn't felt like just being used when he'd then laid her on his desk and made sure she came harder than she had in her life. Even now she felt her knees shaking and her breath short at the memory of it.

"God, what am I doing? What the fuck is my life right now?" She groaned, curling up on her bed and sliding her flats off next to her bed. Why was she doing this? A well-off boyfriend, a solid GPA, very promising employment prospects after she graduated. She had everything she could want, didn't she? People killed themselves trying to manage what came to her so easily, what she had been pushed to become after so many years of her life. And she was well on her way to breaking through into the business world after graduating and...

Spending countless hours at a desk in some office? Coming home to her little suburban home with a well-kept lawn and three kids and a golden retriever? Cameron wearing a tie every morning before rushing off to work? Most people would love that life. But as Dal thought about it, she didn't feel thrilled. Or happy. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Maybe that was why she was letting this trist with Mr. Stark go so far. He was unpredictable. It wasn't just wrong--it was dangerous, in more ways than one. The most obvious being they could caught or he could just turn over the tape when he was bored anyway and ruin her spotless academic history. But besides that, he was physically so toned and sturdy. A small part of her wondered how far he would go if she refused to do something he asked.

When he'd told her she looked like she needed to get fucked, if he'd really wanted to have her, he could have just held her down and taken her. It was both terrifying and...and arousing. Dahlia glanced at the clock, the hour getting so late as she felt her blood pumping so hard in her veins. She'd cum so hard just an hour or so before; why was she still feeling this heat? What had the professor done to her to make her feel so fevered still? Maybe it was that her body did crave intimacy--the kind that would actually fulfill her. Maybe some part of her, deep deep down did just need to be used like that. In actuality the thought was upsetting. Dal had never just hopped into bed with guys she didn't really know or trust. She wasn't confident enough, and sex wasn't just some thing she did. It meant something to her, giving her body to another.

But fantasy wasn't grounded in reality. Nothing bad could happen when her mind had complete control. She wasn't thinking, only feeling as she closed her eyes and rolled onto her back, her hands moving along her stomach, sliding off her skirt. The cool breeze in the room hit her slit full force; she still wasn't wearing any panties. She'd left them behind, with Mr. Stark. It was all crystal clear in her mind as she saw him shoving everything from atop his desk to the ground and throw her against the hard surface in one swift motion. His hands gripped her sides, pushed her shirt and bra up over her breasts. She swallowed and ran a hand over her wet slit as she envisioned him squeezing and kneading her supple curves in his hands, twisting her nipples between his fingers as he pulled her hips to the edge.

She could almost feel his heat against her thighs even now. Her imagination was running wild as she slid a finger inside her happy slit and a thumb against her clit. Mr. Stark wasted no time in her fantasy, tearing her skirt completely free of her waist. A thin blue thong followed, the sound of ripping fabric sending shivers up her spine as he gruffly pulled his cock free of its binding. It had made her gag and splutter when he'd fucked her throat; God only knew how big he'd feel inside her. But she did her best to imagine as she pushed her toes against her bed, lifting her hips up and letting out soft moans.

One hand moved to cup her own breast, picturing what Mr. Stark's shoulders would look like as he hunched over her, hips in his hands as he pulled her onto his cock. She felt like he wasn't just somebody who would thrust forward, but slam her against him as he surged forward, jostling her insides from sheer force. The kind of fucking that left you limping the day after. Because she was a powerful, smart, beautiful young woman. Not a child. Not a trophy. Not a china doll. Dahlia liked being handled--at least somewhat. Mr. Stark tugging her hair and forcing his cock as deep as it could go down her throat had been so good. She could more than handle it. She wanted...she needed more of his handling.

~~~

Dahlia's eyes popped open as she heard the ringtone on her phone blaring. Lighting poured in through the few inches of the window not hidden by the curtains. When did she fall asleep? It was a question left unanswered as she grabbed her phone and looked at the time. She hadn't set an alarm for this morning. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm late!" Dahlia could see several missed calls; a couple from Cam and one from a first period classmate, Becca. If she hurried she'd still make it to class. Likely missed morning lecture, but she could copy notes and not have really missed much--if she was lucky and they hadn't had any pop quizzes.

Dal shambled to her feet, her body slightly achy and yet extremely...loose. She felt so unwound. Before she'd been like a rubber band ball, and now she was like sand. She could breathe. It didn't take her clever mind to connect the dots again, another confusing ocean of emotions crashing over her. 'Not now; can't take too long to get to class.' Instead of focusing on her moral dilemma this morning, Dahlia quickly grabbed a loose-knit wine colored sweater and a pair of charcoal leggings. She hadn't showered before bed, and there wasn't time today. So instead she used several spritz of her dry shampoo and tossed her hair in a messy ponytail before slapping a black headband on to help distract from her lackluster personal hygiene.

It took only a few minutes to haul ass to her first period. Thankfully the teacher was less severe than some of the others on campus, and she knew Dahlia hadn't gotten a grade lower than a B on anything in the class the whole semester. Becca waved her over silently, her notebook filled with this morning's notes. It didn't take too long to copy them over, barring Becca whispering her questions as to why Dal was late and why she looked so disheveled. Apparently she had a reputation that preceded her, and even this little drift from her norm was noticed...It was irritating, really. Becca and her weren't close; why was any of it her business? Why was anything Dahlia did anybody's business damn it?

~~~

The rest of the day went by not nearly quick enough. Class after class droned by, her mind once more on autopilot so she could focus on the more pressing things she was dealing with. Cam's texts and calls were piling up, though. Dal pursed her lips as she listened to yet another voicemail on her way to the cafeteria for lunch. There were many reasons she was avoiding Cameron right now. It just wasn't totally clear which ones were mostly to blame; the fact that she felt guilty for cheating on Cam, or her worry that if she was around him she wouldn't be able to kept o the professor's demand.

That actually bothered her somewhat. What made Mr. Stark think he could dictate anything about what she did once their after school activities were over? She was still in charge of herself and her goings-on. Dahlia was an adult, even with being a student. And how would he know if she had sex with her boyfriend? Her boyfriend who she was allowed to have sex with because--well they were dating! And she...cared for Cam. For the most part at least. The more she thought about it, the less against the professor's wishes she was. Letting Cameron climb on top of her for a few minutes to get his jollies and leaving her unsatisfied was rarely something she wanted to do. If anything, she felt sex was something they kind of were supposed to do once in a while. That's just what couples did, after all. It was expected.

'Why am I always doing what people expect of me?' Didn't people do things because they wanted to? They do what makes them happy. What makes them feel fulfilled. There wasn't much point to all the effort and such otherwise. Every day, wasting your life to keep appearances and please everybody but yourself. That was so...sad. Empty.

Was that what she was doing with the professor, then? Something that wasn't just to please others--but something that she wanted?

~~~

The clock struck 6:30 pm, signaling the end of her last period for the day. It had seemed to pass by in the blink of an eye when she looked back, but it felt like it had taken forever getting here before. Suddenly she felt her stomach in knots again as she gathered her notebooks and supplies into her messenger bag and made her way to Mr. Stark's office. The hallways were all but empty in the building when she pushed open the door. Everything looked and seemed like it had yesterday. But things felt so different. Her palms were clammy as she reached the door and turned the knob. Her pulse raced as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, moving to the small side desk with quivering knees. Not from fear, though.

It was anticipation for whatever Mr. Stark had planned for them tonight.