Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Eric

What the hell am I doing?

I tossed my keys on the counter.

Why do I always want things I can’t fucking have?

Granted, I knew more than anyone that someone’s job didn’t define them, but I couldn’t deny the panic that laced through me the moment Riley told me he was a fucking high school teacher.

No wonder he was the star of my professor fantasy.

College teacher?

Sure, I could handle that. College was a lot more lenient with shit than fucking high school, I knew that first hand.

I hadn’t disclosed my occupation, and now I was more worried than ever that discussing such a topic would more than likely torpedo everything. Cue Bye Bye Bye playing in the background and I’d never see Riley again.

I thought for sure I was going to lose my shit when his fucking student recognized me.

Which also made me feel guilty as hell.

Was he one of my regular subs or a casual lookie loo?

Was he even legal?

Christ, the night had gone from zero to sixty way too fucking fast.

There were a million questions floundering through my brain, and I needed to not think.

I needed to shower, and get the fuck to sleep and maybe then, in the morning when I was more clear, I’d be able to process how I was going to handle the situation. In the morning I could be the smart, better man.

But right now, all I could do was lick my lips, savoring the taste of Riley for just a moment longer.

Fuck me.

I removed my clothes, feeling all too constrained. My cock throbbed from the memory of his kiss, the taboo-ness of our situation.

I turned the shower on, making it as cold as I could, if only to stifle the maddening erection I’d sprung.

The thought of being caught spiraled into being caught by my hot professor date , and cold water wasn’t doing anything.

“Fuck!” I barked as I slammed my fist against the tile. I knew I needed to put Riley, and everything around him out of my mind, but the truth was I couldn’t stop thinking about him. How much fun we’d had together, how sweet and... hot... it was when he grabbed me and kissed me like some Princess in a fairytale. Telling me he wanted to see me again.

My fleshlight mount rattled from my slamming the tile, and my gaze diverted to the answer.

Typically, I liked to edge myself a bit prior to my daily posts, if only because it made the experience and the filming more accurate, but that didn’t mean I didn’t pleasure myself off screen from time to time. Though my own self-love sessions had taken a stark backseat to my filmed ones, because it was easier to feel less alone with a thousand people watching me come. When it was just me, my hand, and a sea of subscribers, I could pretend better.

But alone, in my shower, with a cock harder than Thor’s hammer, the overwhelming desire to pretend was irrefutable.

I slid my hand over my cock, spreading the water along the sensitive thickness of my shaft. The touch alone made my cock twitch, and I squeezed my head, running my thumb through my wet slit. My gaze focused on the mount in front of me, and I supposed I garnered it was a means to an end. It didn’t mean anything.

Tomorrow, I’d deal with the truth, with destroying everything.

But now??

What would a little fantasy hurt, right?

I let go of my cock, smacking it just a bit to watch it bob back and forth. The need to fuck something was intense, especially with my favorite toy only inches away.

But it wasn’t the warm, plush walls of my Fleshlight I really wanted. It was Professor Hot Stuff, on his fucking knees before me.

I closed my eyes as I let the image fill my brain, of him and his long legs tucked underneath him, hands flat on his thighs as he gazed up at me, begging me . Mouth open, waiting for my cock.

For me to fill his fucking mouth with my cum until it dripped out of the corners of his precious, fuckable mouth.

“That’s it,” I purred in the sanctity of my bathroom as I lined myself up, brushing my leaking head against the entrance of my toy.

I smacked it with my head, the wobbly texture of the Fleshlight jiggling as I did so, and I imagined it was his mouth, fighting for a taste.

“Open wide for Daddy,” I murmured as I shoved myself in, letting the plush silicone walls encompass my aching cock. It didn’t take long for me to build a rhythm. I braced both hands against the tile wall, picturing the way his lips wrapped around my thickness, letting my mind wander. The memory of feeling of his tongue against mine spurred thoughts of his tongue rolling around my head. I thrust harder, faster, needing to feel the warmth, his mouth sucking me, licking me.

God, it felt so fucking good.

Harder.

Faster.

I imagined him draining me of every last drop of cum I had, then teaching me a fucking lesson.

You’re going to pay for that, he purred in my fantasy.

Another hard thrust, and my fucking mount slipped off as I pulled out, falling to the ground.

“Fuck!” I roared, my release so close I could taste it.

I knew it would take a minute to reposition everything, and I wasn’t sure I had the focus or capacity to do so.

I needed to fucking come. I needed to put Professor Hot stuff out of my mind. I needed to fuck this out of my system.

I grabbed my Fleshlight from the ground, taking matters into my own hands once more.

Make me, I touted in my cerebral fantasy, the scent of my release prevalent in the air as he breathed his words into my ears. I turned over as I imagined him touching me, forcing me to give him my ass.

And then I came, hard and fast, my entire body spasming with release at the very thought of him punishing me.

Like the dirty little whore I was.

Daddy is a dirty little whore.

As soon as the relief came, so did the shame.

The guilt.

Because I knew it would only be a fantasy.

That’s all it could ever be.