It had been a slow, tough climb to the head of the English department, but after years of dedication, I was ready to reap my just rewards. I had developed a well-deserved reputation amongst students and colleagues as being a hard-ass, but there was no denying I got results. I simply didn't tolerate anything less than excellence.

The young men in my class hated me for my gruff manner and meticulous attention to detail. The young ladies? Well, let's just say a steely gaze and gravelly baritone voice went a long way towards insuring they did their best to impress their favorite English professor. I had many opportunities to fuck around behind the old lady's back, but like most men, I had a type... And when I saw you walk into my classroom I knew you were just what the doctor ordered.

Black leather boots, black fishnets, exposing that creamy little section of pale thigh meat not-so-modestly hidden by your miniskirt. A toned bubble butt with small, perky tits framed by your top, which did little to dissuade attention. An intense, pale little face. Eyes meticulously lined and brightened up with mascara. Septum ring sported defiantly. Full lips painted up in dark, dark red lipstick. Everything about you screamed Daddy issues. To me, you were a prize. A pretty little thing just begging to be broken, and I just couldn't wait to destroy you.

At first glance, it was clear to see we had chemistry. I pretended not to notice how you eye-fucked me intensely from your spot in the back of the classroom. I had similarly devilish thoughts as well... The most prevalent one being how best I would get you on your knees, makeup running down your face, your scalp grasped firmly in hand, and watch just how far you could leave a naughty dark red lipstick ring around my throbbing shaft before I ruined your bratty little face and throat with my cum.

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