Cock, The Slave, A Co-Ed and Her Professor , livre ebook

Andrews UK - Maximo Montoya

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21 pages

English

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What happens when you have an overwhelming urge to stretch the ethical and professional boundaries and go where no professor has gone before? The Cock, the Slave, the Co-Ed, and Her Professor is an erotic story from critically-acclaimed author Maximo Montoya that explores such a dangerous premise.In this thrilling tale, we meet a professor who - on the surface - maintains the air of decorum that is expected of him. Inside however, he has an urge to be raw, unshackled and recklessly naughty - but he may not be able to get there on his own. So who can help him? Surely not Natasha, a student of his and - on the face of things - an ordinary co-ed at the university. But as the Prof knows well, one should never judge a book by its cover...What is the mystery that surrounds the beautiful and desirable Natasha? Will the professor meet his match - and will he be happy when he does?This erotic short story contains extremely graphic language of a highly sexual nature. It is therefore intended only for a mature, open-minded adult audience.

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Erotic literature

Informations

Publié par	Andrews UK
Date de parution	18 décembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781789822021
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

The Cock, The Slave, A Co-Ed and Her Professor
An Erotic Short Story
Maximo Montoya

First published in 2019 by
AUK Adult
A House of Erotica Imprint
Digital edition converted and distributed by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
Copyright © 2019 Maximo Montoya
The right of Maximo Montoya to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

This erotic short story contains extremely graphic language of a highly sexual nature. It is therefore intended only for a mature, open-minded adult audience.

Chapter 1
I found myself sprinting across the quadrangle with my satchel bouncing against my body nearly tripping over myself to make it to my afternoon class. I didn’t want to be late as I was just finishing up a meeting with another student who had scheduled a mid-semester advisory meeting. It felt like I had no time to breathe this semester as the department decided to make me an advisor on day one and now found myself filling in for a colleague who was recovering from major surgery. I had to teach my three English composition classes and these two new Women’s Studies classes. It was like taking a icy plunge in a deep lake not knowing how to swim, or being thrust into a raging river without a life vest. I had to quickly find my sea legs and somehow make it seem like I knew what I was talking about. I always took pride in being prepared and now I had to up my game. Taking a moment out of the work week to actually smell the roses was a luxury I didn’t have.
As an English professor, it is safe to say I felt completely out of my element but wasn’t one to say no. I hurriedly spent a week and a half catching up on the reading material and fashioned a syllabus, exam/quiz schedule, and weekly assignments. I have always been a team player and believed in the old adage: never let them see you sweat. Ironically, on this very warm day, I found my nerves taking hold and my underarms soaked as I quickened my pace to make it on time. The classroom was on the other side of campus, and I really wished I had a golf cart. This was the first day these new students would see me and I just wanted to keep it together. My goal was to be myself, appear confident, and know what the hell I was talking about. The department head had confidence that I could pull it off, so I didn’t want to disappoint.
I quickly opened the door to the classroom and found a full class waiting on me. I had sweaty pits, my face was completely drenched, and I was panting like a large dog who just finished playing catch on a hot, sunny day and needed water. It was no surprise that most of the students were female – actually ninety percent female. The other ten percent were horny males who had little interest in the subject matter, but they knew many female co-eds took these classes. They wanted to have a filler class during the semester, and saw it as an easy way of possibly hooking up. The guys were mostly student athletes and wannabe jocks who generally congregated in the back of the class where they had a clear line of sight to everyone else. They carefully surveyed the land and acted like scouts and testosterone filled observers. I wiped the wetness from my face with my sleeve and barely had enough time to look up before diving into the material at hand and tell them who the hell I was. I was the new dude, and It was now time to make my official introduction.
“Good afternoon everyone, I’m Professor Manley. You are probably aware Professor Banks will not be returning, and I have been asked to fill in for her. I’m sure we will have a great time together, and I’m truly happy to be here.”
I efficiently handed out the syllabi, and then proceeded to take attendance. I wanted to associate the name with a face – as was my modus operandi in every class I have taught over the years. As my breathing began to slow down and normalize, I noticed that there were a lot of beautiful smiling female faces. A few were biting their lower lips with their gazes transfixed on me. My face was already flushed and I hoped that if there was any inkling of my discomfort, my face would not give it away. I was supposed to be in control of my emotions, even though I was the newbie professor . I started to call out names , going down each row, and proceeded to mark ‘present.’ I came to a full bodied brunette with green eyes, who seemed to say the word “Here” in a noticeably seductive way. She then attempted to gain extended eye contact with me, which only ended with me turning away – not before she winked and coquettishly smiled showing her perfectly aligned, white teeth. I smiled through every brief interaction and didn’t find this even slightly rattling. It was rather amusing. I don’t think I’m an egoist, but it sort of made my day. The quiet attention distracted me from the frantic three minutes it took to jog here and the daily grind I’ve grown accustomed to. It was appreciated, to say the least. Yes, I will certainly admit that to you. It was all very flattering .
I wasn’t a hideous troll by any means. With full disclosure, I was a model during my college years and continued to go on gigs during graduate school, and even throughout the doctoral program. The money certainly helped with tuition, rent, and food. I knew where my true love was and it was firmly rooted in academia. Modeling, in my mind’s eye, was not a long term career choice. As a young twenty something, I thought my body would fail before my mind does. I could always have long-term sustainability and growth using my brain matter than using my body. We can always hope. For me, it was more of a means to an ends and I certainly didn’t want to be labeled a pretty boy, or a vapid person and empty vessel who thought their shit didn’t stink. I never had a sense of entitlement or an off-putting type of personality. Hey, haven’t you’ve heard of women stripping at gentleman clubs subsidizing their way through law school, medical school, or just plain life? Well, I have. I was that person. The same principle applied, so please don’t judge. I was approached by an agent at a mall while out with friends, and the rest is history – so let’s leave it there – ensconced securely in the past. I busted my ass to get where I am and worked even harder to earn the respect of my students and colleagues. For that, I will not be ashamed.
I have always been fascinated with the ‘power of words.’ On a deeper level, I wanted to be taken seriously in life. Being a college professor was a dream of mine ever since my formative years in high school. I always remembered a certain teacher who exposed me to Shakespeare. The light bulb went off almost immediately, especially after we took a field trip to see a modern interpretation of Hamlet entitled Hamlet: Rosencrantz and Gildenstern are Dead . When asked by someone what my vocation was, I didn’t want to say those dreadful words: “I model.” I cringed whenever I have heard anyone on TV or in person say it.