BBC College Student Owns and Impregnates His Professor

Nikolai was twenty-two, a senior who had transferred in for the spring term and landed in Professor Danielle Hart’s advanced literature seminar as if the schedule had been written for the two of them. He was tall, broad through the shoulders, and unhurried in the way he took a chair at the front, one long leg stretched into the aisle. Danielle was thirty-four, married six years, and usually the most composed person in any room she taught. By the third week she had stopped trusting that composure whenever he was in it.

She noticed the bulge first during office hours, when he stayed after to talk about a paper and the fabric of his pants pulled tight across his lap. It was not subtle. Thick, heavy, ridiculously long even at rest, the shape of him sat there between them like a third presence while they discussed narrative voice. She kept her eyes on his face and failed. He noticed her noticing. The corner of his mouth moved, not a smirk exactly, more an acknowledgment, and he did not shift to hide himself.

“You keep looking,” he said, voice low enough that the open door down the hall wouldn’t carry it. “I’m not offended. I like it.”

Heat climbed her throat. She was a married woman with a ring on her left hand and a seminar full of adults who called her Professor Hart. She was also wet under her skirt from nothing more than the outline of a twenty-two-year-old student’s cock, and lying about it suddenly felt more ridiculous than admitting it.

“You’re impossible to ignore,” she said. “That thing is obvious, Nikolai. I’ve been distracted for weeks. I shouldn’t say that. I’m saying it anyway.”

“Then I’ll say it back.” He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, and the bulge shifted, thick and dark against the pale cloth. “I’ve been hard in your class thinking about you. Not as a joke. I want you. If you want me to stop talking like this, tell me and I will. If you don’t, I want to hear you say it.”

She should have ended the meeting. Instead she heard herself answer, clear and adult and shaking only a little. “I don’t want you to stop. I want you. I’ve wanted you since you walked into my office and I saw what you’re carrying. Come back after the last class today. The building empties out. My office will be empty except for us. I want to see it. I want to feel it. I’m asking you.”

“Yes,” he said at once. “I’ll be there because I want to be. Not for a grade. Not because you assigned it. Because I want your hands on me and I want to put my hands on you, if you still want that when the door’s shut.”

“I’ll still want it,” Danielle said.

She taught the afternoon seminar with her panties already damp and her attention split between the discussion and the man in the front row, who watched her mouth when she spoke and didn’t pretend otherwise. When the room cleared, she waited in the doorway of her office until his footsteps came down the corridor. He stepped inside. She closed the door herself and turned the lock, then faced him with her back against the wood, thirty-four and breathless and entirely sure.

“No one else is in this wing,” she said. “I checked. I locked it because I want privacy with you, not because anyone made me. If you want to leave, leave. If you want to stay, I need you to take that cock out, because I have been soaking through my panties thinking about how huge it is and I can’t pretend anymore.”

Nikolai stayed. “I want to stay. Tell me what you’ve been thinking. All of it. I want to hear you ask.”

She crossed the small room, stopped close enough to smell clean soap and warm skin, and let the words come without softening them. “I get wet thinking about your huge black dick owning me. I go home and I can’t even finish a sentence to my husband without remembering the way you sit in that chair. I touch myself and it’s your cock I picture, thick, too long, stretching me open until I can’t think. I want you to take control. I’m begging you for it. Not because you threatened me. Not because of this class. Because I want to be used by that cock and I want you to decide how, once I’ve asked. Please, Nikolai. Take control of me. I want it.”

He studied her face, serious for a moment beneath the want. “You sure? Say it plain.”

“I’m sure. I want this. I want you. Do it.”

He stood. The zipper sounded loud in the quiet office. He pushed his pants and briefs down and his cock swung free, then rose, heavy and dark, veins standing along a shaft that looked unreal even as she stared at it. Thirteen and a half inches, thick enough that her fingers wouldn’t meet if she tried one hand, the head broad and already shining. It jutted from a body that was all adult muscle and patience, and the sight of it pulled a helpless sound out of her throat.

“God,” she whispered. “It’s bigger than I thought. I still want it. I want all of it.”

“Then get on your knees and show me,” he said, and the command landed exactly where she had asked it to.

Danielle dropped. The carpet bit her knees through her stockings. She wrapped both hands around him and still had inches left, hot and rigid, the weight of him making her wrists ache in the best way. She stroked, slow, learning the flare of the head and the way he throbbed when she squeezed. Her mouth followed. She licked the underside, kissed the slit, then opened and took him in, jaw straining, saliva slicking her chin as she worked what she could reach and pumped the rest with both fists.

“That’s it,” Nikolai said, one hand settling in her hair only after she moaned and pushed her scalp into his palm, begging without words to be held. He gripped, firm, guiding, never yanking her past what she chased. “Look at you. Professor on her knees for a cock she begged to see. Eager. Gorgeous. You worship it like you mean it.”

She pulled off, lips swollen, strings of spit connecting her mouth to the head. “I mean it. I need you to claim me. I need you to breed me. I’m fertile, I’m not on anything, and I want your cum in me anyway. I want you to knock up your professor with this massive cock. I’m asking you to. Tell me you want that too.”

“I want it,” he said, voice rough. “I want to cum in you until it takes. I want to own this pussy because you’re giving it to me. Open your mouth again. Get me wet. Then I’m putting every inch in you.”

She sucked him deeper, gagging softly and loving the stretch, both hands twisting, eyes up so he could see she was present and hungry and not lost. He praised her through it, thumb stroking her cheek, telling her how perfect her mouth was, how badly he needed to be inside the woman who had just begged to be bred. When he eased her off, she was shaking, panties ruined, thighs pressed together.

“Desk,” she said. “Bend me over it. I want you to pound me. I consent. I want the whole thing. Don’t hold back unless I say stop, and I’m not saying stop.”

He helped her up, turned her, and bent her over the cleared end of her desk. Papers had already been stacked aside; she had planned this much, at least. He pushed her skirt to her waist and dragged her soaked panties down her legs. She stepped out of them and spread her feet, ass tipped up, pussy bare and glistening, swollen from wanting him all afternoon.

Nikolai dragged the head through her folds, coating himself, and she whimpered at the sheer width. “You’re dripping,” he said. “You want me to push in?”

“Yes. Please. Put it in. I want to feel how deep thirteen and a half inches goes.”

He pressed. The head breached her, a thick, burning stretch that made her grip the far edge of the desk and moan into her own arm. He went slow at first, inch after inch, letting her body open, one hand spread warm on her lower back. She pushed back to meet him, explicit in it, taking more, gasping when he bottomed out and the heavy press of his hips met her ass.

“All of it,” he said, wonder and filth braided together. “You’re taking all of me. Tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s perfect. It’s so much and I want it harder. Fuck me. Pound me. I asked for this.”

He drew back and drove in, deep, powerful strokes that shoved the desk a fraction and knocked a pen to the floor. The sound of him slamming into her soaked pussy filled the office, wet and obscene, each thrust seating that enormous length until she felt him in her stomach. Her wedding ring clicked against the wood. She didn’t take it off. She didn’t want to. She wanted exactly this, a married professor bent over her own desk and split open by the student she had invited, begging for the cock that was ruining her for anything smaller.

“Harder,” she cried. “Own it. Own me. I’m yours right now because I want to be. God, Nikolai, you’re so deep.”

He fucked her like she had asked, hips snapping, balls slapping her clit, one hand gripping her hip and the other tangled in her hair because she had reached back and put it there. Pleasure built fast and mean. She came with a broken shout, clenching around all thirteen and a half inches, and he didn’t stop, fucking her through it until her legs trembled and fresh slick ran down her thighs.

“On your back,” he said, pulling out with a wet sound that made her whimper at the emptiness. “I want your legs up. I want to watch your face while I breed you. You still want my cum?”

“Yes. Inside. All of it. I want you to impregnate me. Flip me over and don’t you dare pull out.”

He turned her, lifted her onto the desk, and folded her legs over his shoulders. The position opened her completely. He slid back in to the hilt in one long stroke and she arched, mouth open, eyes locked on his. He dominated the space between her thighs, broad body covering her, cock plunging so deep she felt every vein. She held his arms and pulled him closer, consent in every grab, every moan, every filthy plea.

“Cum in me,” she begged. “Flood me. I want your baby. I want this huge cock to knock me up. Please, Nikolai, give it to me. I want it so much I can’t stand it.”

“You want your student to impregnate you,” he growled, thrusting harder, the desk creaking. “Say it again.”

“I want you to impregnate me. I want Nikolai’s cum in my womb. I’m fertile and I’m choosing this. Cum inside your professor. Fill me until it drips. I need it.”

He groaned, buried himself, and came. The first hot pulse made her gasp; the second and third flooded her so full she felt the pressure, thick spurts painting her deepest place while he stayed locked inside and ground through it. She came again around the throb of him, crying his name, clutching him so he couldn’t pull out even if he had wanted to. He didn’t want to. He stayed seated, breathing hard against her neck, cock still hard enough that when the aftershocks faded he started moving again.

“More,” she said, dazed and certain. “I’m not done. You’re not done. I want another load. I want you to keep breeding me until there’s no question.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I want that too. Hold your legs. Let me have you again.”

He fucked her through the mess of the first orgasm, the sound wetter now, cum and her arousal squelching around his shaft every time he drove those thirteen and a half inches home. She watched his stomach flex, watched the dark length disappear into her body, and the sight shoved her into another climax before he was ready. He flipped the angle, hands under her knees, pinning her open, dominating her completely while she moaned and begged and told him she loved being owned by his cock. When he came the second time he shoved deep and held, flooding her fertile womb again, load after heavy load, so much that when he finally eased back a white rush spilled out around him and ran down onto the desk.

“Look at that,” he said, voice wrecked and pleased. “You’re overflowing and I still want to give you more. You want a third?”

“Yes. Put it back in. I want every drop you have. I want to walk out of here pregnant with you. I want it. Don’t stop until you’ve given me everything.”

He slid back into the creamy heat and fucked her slower, deeper, savoring the way she fluttered around him. She pulled his face down and kissed him, open-mouthed and grateful, then broke the kiss to keep talking, because she needed him to hear it.

“I want you to impregnate me,” she said against his mouth. “I want this cock to own my pussy and my womb. Cum in me again. Please. I’m asking. I’m begging. I consent to all of it.”

“I want to knock you up,” he answered, hips starting to snap again. “I want my baby in my professor. Take it. Take all of me.”

The third orgasm hit him while she was already shaking through hers. He flooded her until she was sobbing with pleasure, until cum dripped steadily from her stretched pussy onto the wood, until neither of them had anything left but the certainty of what they had just done and how much they had both wanted it. He stayed inside while they caught their breath, kissing her softly now, checking her face.

“You good?” he asked.

“I’m better than good,” Danielle said, smiling, wrecked, honest. “I wanted every second. I still want you. When it takes, I want you to know it was because I asked you to breed me and you said yes.”

Weeks later the semester had narrowed to its last stretch of classes, and Professor Danielle Hart stood after the seminar with a hand on the gentle swell of her belly, unmistakable under the softer dress she had started wearing. Thirty-four, married, glowing in a way her colleagues attributed to ordinary happiness. Nikolai waited until the other students, all of them grown, had gone. He was still twenty-two, still carrying that impossible cock quiet in his pants, and when she looked at him the want was as open as it had been the first afternoon.

She locked the office door again because she wanted him alone, then crossed to him and pulled him into a deep kiss, one hand on his chest, the other guiding his palm to the curve of her stomach.

“It’s yours,” she said against his mouth. “I took a test. Then another. I’m pregnant, and it’s from that day, from you filling me until I dripped. My husband thinks it’s his. I let him think it. I wanted your baby, and I have it, and I am not sorry. I still get wet remembering how you owned me. I still want that cock.”

She sank to her knees on the same carpet, unzipped him with careful, eager hands, and drew out the massive length that had knocked her up, already thickening, dark and heavy and hers to worship because she chose to. She kissed the head, then looked up at him, lips parted, eyes bright, one hand resting on the swell he had put in her.

“Are you going to let me thank the cock that bred me, or are you going to bend me over the desk and put another load where it already took?”