Professor Daren was sweating. Karla had come to class dressed completely inappropriately again, and he was having the worst time trying to hide the tent in his pants.
Second row back, the flirty redhead was leaning forward, as if completely interested in everything he was saying. Really, however, the curvy college freshman was giving him a great view down her button up shirt… under which she was wearing nothing, as he could attest to. He wondered if she’d given her high school teachers this much trouble or if it was just him. A younger professor, Daren was about 35 years old, 6’1″ with shortly clipped brown hair. Attractive and very young for his position, his classes on abnormal psychology were a favorite for females. Especially now when the topic had moved into sexual abnormalities and fetishes. When he’d first taken the position he hadn’t realized how full of females his classes could get, he tended to try to get through this section as quickly as possible, not wanting to discuss sexual fetishes too deeply in class. For as much as he knew he had to hide it, he had his own fetish… probably part of the reason he’d become a professor rather than a teacher. He was entranced with the schoolgirl image, the Catholic schoolgirl gone wrong and needed a spanking. For years he’d been picturing himself having to administer punishment to some nubile young girl, turning her ass red with a paddle. Just thinking about it made him hard… not that that could hurt now, he was already at full mast just from looking down Karla’s shirt at her perky, round, pale white breasts. Gorgeous things that they were.
Fortunately, he’d been doing these lectures for long enough that his mouth could run on the familiar words without his brain being behind it. Otherwise he’d probably be in front of this class just stuttering like a fool. He’d had brazen girls in his classes before, wanting to ask him out for a date, trying to do “extra credit”, but none were as forward as Karla. Every day it was something different, a short skirt that would lift up to reveal a pale ass (perfect for spanking) as she bent over to pick something up on her way up the stairs to a lecture seat in the back, lowcut shirts that made the most of her considerable cleavage… one day she’d stopped by his podium on her way out of the class and managed to brush her hand against his crotch. She knew she got him hard, it’d been right there for her to feel it. Rather than curbing her behavior, however, she’d gotten worse after that incident.
After the class was over, he wondered how he was going to last with such a little tease for the rest of the semester.