Teasing Professor Evelyn

The final bell had already rung when Avery reached Professor Evelyn’s office. He knocked once. No answer. He tried the handle. It turned easily.

The room was empty.

A small, lewd smile curved his lips. He stepped inside, closed the door quietly behind him, and walked straight to her desk. After a quick glance around he dropped to his knees and crawled underneath, tucking himself into the shadowed space between the drawers. The carpet was soft against his stockings. He adjusted his short skirt, settled in, and waited.

Footsteps approached a few minutes later. Two voices.

Evelyn’s calm, professional tone mixed with a deeper, richer one Avery recognized immediately—Principal Monroe, the tall, beautiful black futa who ran the college. Her presence always filled a room.

“…and the participation numbers in your second-year class are still higher than last semester,” Monroe was saying as they entered. “Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn replied. “The students are responding well this year.”

Chairs scraped. Evelyn sat. A moment later her chair rolled forward and her heels bumped solidly into Avery’s side.

She froze for half a second.

Then the tension left her body. Avery felt the subtle shift as she realized exactly who was under her desk. Without missing a beat in the conversation she lifted her hips just enough to hitch her tight skirt higher, then settled back down.

Monroe continued talking about curriculum adjustments and an upcoming board meeting. Evelyn answered smoothly, voice steady, while Avery’s hands moved.

He carefully slipped both of her heels off. Then the thin socks. Her bare feet rested on the carpet in front of him. He traced his fingers slowly up the smooth skin of her calves, then higher, following the line of her stockings until he reached the soft flesh above. He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to the side of her ankle.

Evelyn’s voice didn’t change, but her toes curled slightly.

Avery kept going—slow, open-mouthed kisses along her shin, the back of her knee, the inner thigh. He shifted onto all fours so he could reach better, licking a long stripe up the inside of her leg. The scent of her skin and the faint musk of arousal already filled the small space under the desk.

Monroe was still speaking about budget allocations when Avery finally reached the edge of Evelyn’s underwear. He hooked a finger under the fabric and tugged it aside. Her thick cock sprang free, already half-hard and growing rapidly. He wrapped both hands around it and stroked slowly from base to tip, spreading the bead of precum that had gathered at the head.

Evelyn crossed one leg over the other as if settling more comfortably in her chair, trapping his hands and her cock in a tighter space. Avery didn’t stop. He leaned forward, licked the precum clean, then took the head into his mouth and sucked gently.

Monroe kept talking.

Avery took her deeper, inch by inch, until his nose pressed against her stomach and the thick shaft filled his throat. He stayed there, swallowing around her, then pulled back just enough to breathe before sliding down again. Quiet, wet sounds were the only noise under the desk. He kept the rhythm slow and deep for what felt like a long time—ten minutes, maybe more—while Evelyn carried on a perfectly normal conversation with the principal.

Finally Monroe stood.

“I’ll leave the revised schedule on your desk by Monday,” she said. “Enjoy the weekend, Evelyn.”

“You too, Principal.”

The door clicked shut.

The second the lock engaged Evelyn shoved her chair back hard. She reached under the desk, grabbed Avery by the hair, and pulled him up without a word. He barely had time to catch himself on the edge of the desk before she spun him around, shoved him face-down across the wood, and yanked his skirt and panties down in one motion.

She spat once on her cock, lined up, and drove into him in a single hard thrust.

Avery’s mouth opened in a silent gasp. Evelyn didn’t give him time to adjust. She fucked him deep and relentless, hips slamming against his ass, the desk creaking under the force. One hand pinned the back of his neck while the other gripped his hip hard enough to leave marks.

She came the first time with a low, gritted groan, flooding him. She didn’t pull out. She just kept thrusting through it, using her own cum as extra slick, until she was hard again. The second round was even rougher—long, punishing strokes that forced broken little sounds out of him with every impact. When she came again she stayed buried to the hilt, grinding deep, then finally pulled out, walked to the door, and locked it properly.

She was back on him in seconds.

The third time she bent him over the desk again and took him slower but just as deep, one hand reaching around to stroke his cock in time with her thrusts until he spilled across the polished wood. She followed a moment later, adding another thick load to the mess already inside him.

Only then did she ease out. Avery stayed bent over for a few seconds, breathing hard, before sliding down to his knees. He licked his own cum off the desk first, slow and thorough, then turned and cleaned her cock with the same care—long strokes of his tongue, gentle suction, until she was spotless.

While he worked he glanced up at her through his lashes.

“Skye invited me to a party tomorrow night,” he said softly. “Private. Some of her friends. She said… she already told them I’m open. That it might turn into more than just drinks.”

Evelyn looked down at him, still catching her breath, and brushed a strand of hair from his face.

“Did she now?”

Avery nodded, cheeks still flushed. “I said yes.”

Evelyn’s mouth curved in a slow, dark smile. She cupped his chin and tilted his face up.

“Then go. Enjoy yourself. Just remember who you come back to.”

She kissed him once—deep, claiming—then let him go so he could fix his clothes.

“And Avery?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Don’t be late for class on Monday. You’ll need the rest.”

**Friday Afternoon – Bookstore**

Avery left Evelyn’s office with the pleasant ache still deep inside him and the faint taste of her on his tongue. He checked the time and headed straight to the bookstore. Yesterday had been his first shift; today was only the second, but the difference was already obvious.

The small shop was busier than it should have been for a Friday afternoon. The sitting area near the windows—usually half-empty—was almost full. Older women and futas occupied the armchairs and low tables, some with open books they weren’t really reading, others nursing the coffee and pastries the store sold. A few glanced up the moment the bell above the door chimed, then looked again when they saw who it was.

Word had clearly spread.

Ms. Harlow gave him a small, satisfied smile from behind the counter. “You’re early. Good. We’re going to need the extra hands.”

Avery nodded, soft and polite. “Yes, ma’am.”

He clocked in, tied the little apron around his narrow waist, and started shelving the afternoon delivery. Every time he bent or stretched to reach a higher shelf, he felt eyes on him. He didn’t mind. In fact, he let his hips sway a little more than necessary as he walked between the shelves, the short skirt shifting with each step. A couple of soft sighs reached him from the reading area.

One woman—mid-forties, silver-streaked hair—waited until he passed her table and held out a folded slip of paper.

“For you,” she said quietly.

Avery took it with both hands, smiled politely, and gently handed it back. “I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to take numbers while I’m working. But thank you for coming in.”

She looked disappointed but not offended. The soft way he spoke, the way he didn’t make it awkward, only seemed to make her linger longer.

It happened two more times before the hour was up. Each refusal was the same—gentle, polite, a little shy. The women still stayed. They bought extra drinks. They bought books they might not have bought otherwise. Ms. Harlow watched from the counter with the expression of someone who had just discovered a very profitable secret.

By the time his shift ended, the sitting area was still half full. Avery untied his apron and stepped behind the counter to clock out. Ms. Harlow rested a hand on his shoulder as she thanked him.

“You did well today,” she said. Her fingers stayed a moment longer than necessary, warm through the thin sweater. “Sales are better than they’ve been in months. Keep it up.”

“Thank you, Ms. Harlow.”

Her eyes dropped for half a second when he turned to leave. Avery noticed. He let his hips roll a little more deliberately as he walked to the door, the short skirt hugging the full curve of his ass with every step. He didn’t look back, but he heard the soft sound of her breath catching.

Outside, the late-afternoon air felt cooler against his flushed skin. He started the walk home, still swaying just enough to feel the pleasant reminder of Evelyn’s cock with every step, already wondering what Martha and Blair would do when they saw the state he was still in.