Campus Office Hours With The Milf

Professor Elena Voss adjusted her black-rimmed glasses and glanced at the antique grandfather clock in the hallway. Eleven forty-seven. The house was quiet except for the low rumble of approaching thunder and the occasional creak of old timber. Lucas should have been asleep by now. Instead, the faint glow of light spilled from beneath his bedroom door at the far end of the second floor.

She told herself she was only checking on her exchange student, making sure the young Frenchman was adjusting to American life. That was what any responsible host professor would do. The fact that her silk robe clung to her full, heavy breasts and barely covered the lace tops of her thigh-high stockings had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

Elena had been strict with herself for years. At forty-two, she kept her body tight through punishing runs and even more punishing self-control. Her dark chestnut hair was usually pinned in a severe chignon during lectures, her pencil skirts tight enough to draw every male eye on campus but never enough to invite comment. She had not taken a lover in nearly three years. The hunger inside her had simply been locked away.

Until Lucas Moreau arrived.

The nineteen-year-old French literature major was tall, lean-muscled, and possessed the kind of careless masculine beauty that made her stomach tighten every time he looked at her. His English was excellent, his accent sinful. And the way he stared at her when he thought she wasn’t looking… it made her cunt throb in a way she hadn’t allowed in far too long.

She paused outside his door. A soft, rhythmic sound reached her ears. Wet. Familiar. The unmistakable sound of a young man stroking a very hard cock.

Elena’s breath caught. She should walk away. Instead her hand drifted to the doorknob and turned it silently.

Lucas lay sprawled on his bed in the low lamplight, completely naked. One hand flew up and down the thickest cock Elena had seen in her life. Long, veined, flushed dark at the head. In his other hand he held something black and lacy.

Her panties.

The pair she had worn yesterday, the ones that had grown embarrassingly soaked during their late-night discussion of Madame Bovary. She had left them in the laundry hamper. He had gone looking.

A hot spike of pure lust lanced through her belly. Her nipples stiffened against the silk of her robe. For one long moment she simply watched the beautiful young stud jerk his massive erection while burying his face in the crotch of her used underwear, inhaling her scent like a man starved.

Lucas’s hips jerked. A low groan escaped him. “Fuck… Madame Voss… Elena…”

Her name on his lips in that desperate, accented growl broke something inside her.

She stepped into the room.

Lucas’s eyes flew open. He froze mid-stroke, her panties still pressed to his mouth, his huge cock pulsing visibly in his fist.

For three heartbeats neither of them moved.