Nighttime Fun - One Shots

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Though she could see the second hand of the wall clock was moving, Sara was convinced that the minute hand had been frozen in place, refusing to let the hour progress. If anything, this class was shorter than usual, due to Sara sleeping through her alarm and rushing in nearly 15 minutes late. But normally, she didn't start her day waking up from a rather steamy dream about her English professor.

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Samuel Jamison was one of the younger professors currently employed by the university, though his wardrobe tended to betray that fact. His typical ensemble included a vintage sports coat, knit sweater vest over a buttoned dress shirt, belted slacks, dress shoes, and round glasses. Assuming his goal in dressing that way was to downplay his attractiveness, then it was very much in vain because the aesthetic worked very well for him. He somehow managed to appear more "scholarly model" than "weathered professor".

Tick, tick, tick, tick.

Sara had certainly caught herself eyeing him before, but would always sternly remind herself that he was her teacher, and to focus on the lesson. That dark little voice in her head was more interested in him teaching her a different kind of lesson, and she was having extra difficulty ignoring it today. It certainly didn't help that he was clearly excited about their current class topic. Professor Jamison had his sleeves rolled up and was using a yardstick to gesture and point passionately while he spoke. She imagined him bending her over his desk and using that yardstick to-

BRRRRRING! BRRRRRING!

The bell finally sounded, quickly snapping Sara out of her fantasy, and she could feel a slight flush creeping onto her face at what she had just been imagining.

"Great lesson today, everyone!" the Professor announced. "I look forward to seeing your interpretations on Monday, as we participate in a Socratic seminar and examine the moral successes, or perhaps failings, of the three lead figures. This weekend, I want you all to thoroughly consider each of their viewpoints and if by standards of their time, rather than today's, their actions were justified."

The students chattered as they gathered their things and began exiting the room. A few briefly stopped by the front to speak with Professor Jamison, likely asking for book recommendations or proposing ideas about the discussion topic. Sara purposely took her time, waiting until all of her classmates had left the room, before somewhat sheepishly approaching her teacher.

"Excuse me, Professor?" she said, approaching the man who had busied himself cleaning his notes off the chalkboard.

He briefly started, then lit up when he saw that it was her. "Sara, it's good to see you! I noticed you came in a bit late today- I hope everything is alright."

His genuine concern did nothing to quiet that dark little voice in her head, if anything encouraging it.

"I'm very sorry about that," she said, blushing deeper, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. "I slept though my alarm and found myself very distracted today. Your class is one of my favorites and I usually don't have any trouble focusing but today I did and-"

Professor Jamison blessedly cut off her rambling with a soft smile and a hand on her shoulder. "It happens to the best of us. How about this- My last class gets out at 6pm. Come by after that and we can review the lesson so you'll be prepared for the discussion on Monday."

"That would be great, thank you so much!" Sara beamed and tried (and failed) to not think about his touch, albeit an innocent one, for the rest of the afternoon.

***

A few minutes before six, Sara arrived back outside Professor Jamison's classroom. She had taken advantage of the time before to properly shower, brush her teeth, and fix her makeup, all things she hadn't had time for that morning.

As she stood outside the door, listening to the muffled sound of his lecture, she couldn't help feeling excited at the prospect of being alone with him. Once again she reminded herself of the facts, but that did little to dampen her secret delight.

Before she knew it, the class had ended and students started streaming out, most chatting with one another about the lesson or evening plans. As the last one left, she entered the room to a rather pleasing sight.

Sara had one of his earlier classes in the day, when Professor Jamison was fresh and still put together. Now at the end of the long day, he had abandoned his sports coat and unbuttoned the collar of his untucked undershirt. His hair was mussed, she assumed from running his hands through it to keep the strands from getting in his eyes, and there was chalk dust all over his vest. Most would appear to be tired and disheveled, but his warm smile and bright eyes spoke of someone satisfied from another day of doing what he loved.

Sara felt her breath catch while she took the sight in, her dark little voice practically screaming at her to do something, anything. She blinked and took a moment to make sure that her jaw was still firmly affixed to her face and not on the floor.

Remember, he is your teacher. He has zero interest in you and you are here to learn, not ogle. She harshly thought to herself.

Without looking, the Professor called to her, "Sara! Let me grab my bag, then we can head out in just a moment!" Sara froze. She had assumed they'd just be in his classroom, not going somewhere. Together. Alone.

After what felt like forever, the whole while she tried to hide her panic, he emerged from his office and made his way over to her.

"Sorry, hope you don't mind going somewhere else to review." he said, rubbing the back his neck with one hand. "I forgot that the school is doing a deep clean this weekend, so they're kicking us all out for the night. There's this neat bookstore cafe about 10 minutes away that we could use, or I could just send you my notes to read through over the weekend if you'd prefer."

Sara knew what the responsible choice was, but found herself smiling and saying, "Coffee sounds great, let's check out this cafe!" Then before she knew it, she was in the passenger seat of his car.

***

They arrived at the cafe to see that it was surprisingly busy for a Friday evening. Luckily, they found a small table near the back that another couple had just left. The cafe was in a large building, but the back was filled with rows of bookshelves and the smaller front section was packed tight with tables, chairs, and patrons. This led to the pair sitting rather close to one another, much to Sara's combined terror and delight.

"So Profe-" she began, but was quickly cut off by her teacher shaking his head.

"Please, it's after hours and we're not in the classroom, you can call me Sam." he said with a grin and waved down a barista.

"Hey Sammy!" the girl said with a perky grin and leaned over to give him a hug. "Who's your friend?"

"Cassie, this is Sara, one of my students. Sara, this is Cassie, who may be single-handedly responsible for keeping me awake this semester." Sara swallowed her envy and smiled at the girl. They seemed friendly, but she was probably like that with all of her attractive, intelligent, single customers. It was fine. Just fine.

They placed their orders and Cassie bounced off to make their drinks. Though it was packed in the cafe, she returned after only a few minutes to deliver their order, wink at Profe- er, Sam, and was then on her way, much to Sara's relief.

Once caffeinated, Sam pulled out some notes and, as promised, started reviewing the lesson for her. Unlike earlier that day, Sara found herself entirely focused on what he was saying. His passion and excitement was contagious and she found herself asking questions and debating points throughout the lecture.

It wasn't until Cassie the perky barista stopped by to let them know that the cafe was closing that they stopped. Sara checked her phone and was shocked to see that it was just past ten o' clock. The pair apologized for losing track of time and quickly packed up to go.

Sara didn't live far from the university and typically took the bus, so Sam offered to give her a ride home, which she gratefully accepted. They spent the trip talking about different authors and works they admired, and Sara found herself surprisingly disappointed when the evening ended. In true gentlemanly fashion, Sam walked her to the front door and waited patiently as she fumbled for her keys. After a few minutes, the searching turned frantic and after the pair searched the entire contents of her bag, she had to accept that they were missing.

"I know it's late, but can you call your roommate?" Sam asked, concerned.

Sara let out a sarcastic laugh and fought to hold back tears of frustration. "No, she's on this stupid work-study trip in Thailand for the next two weeks. I'll have to call the landlord to get a new one made, but their office if closed over the weekend, because of course it is!" Her vision grew blurry as the tears began to escape. "I'm so sorry, this is embarrassing."

"Hey there, everything will be alright." Sam said and put a comforting hand on her back. "It's getting late. You're welcome to stay over at my place and we can put our heads together and think something up in the morning. Sound like a plan?" She nodded and let him lead her back to the car.

***

It turned out that he only lived a few minutes away, in one of a row of modest townhouses. His home was small, but somehow didn't feel cramped. She was unsurprised to see several bookshelves and no television. Sam's decor was only slightly more modern than his wardrobe, which only added to his charm.

"I only have the one room, so how about you take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch tonight." Sara attempted to protest but was quickly cut off. "Nope, I won't hear it. Besides, I have quite a comfortable couch, so you're the one missing out."

He provided her with an old t-shirt, soft from years of wear, and some plaid pajama pants. After the stress of being locked out of her own apartment, his bed felt like a warm cloud. She snuggled into the pillows, breathing deep the smell of pure Sam, and tried going to sleep. That would prove to be difficult though. With his scent all around her and still coming off the high of spending the evening with him, she found herself longing to be near him again.

She laid there for what felt like hours, images of Sam in her mind. Stretching up to write something on the chalkboard. That passionate look he got when lecturing. His comforting hand on her back. Him holding her. Him leaning down to kiss her. Him bending her over that desk. The pressure built and she found herself needing a release.

Sliding her hand past the waistband of his pants- Sam's pants- she began massaging her eager folds. She imagined the hand belonged to him instead, which only increased her arousal. The thought of him touching her like this was almost enough to make her cum on its own, but she willed herself to resist, wanting to savor the image.

Swirling her fingers around, Sara bit her lip in an attempt to quiet her needy moans. With her eyes closed and breath hitching, her other hand found its way to her taut nipple, brushing over it lightly and sending shivers up her spine. She couldn't help but stroke herself faster, dancing on the edge of release that she so desperately wanted- no, needed.

The pressure mounted and her stroking became almost frantic, her other hand tightly grasping the sheet. In her mind, Sam wasn't just touching her, he was savoring her, his messy hair falling into his eyes as he watched her writhe beneath him. Sara called out to him- Sam, please. Begging him to give her that sweet release.

"Are you oka-" Sara's eyes shot open and over to the doorway, where a concerned Sam stood. A small part of her mind was horrified. She must have called his name out loud and not just in her fantasy. The rest of her was entirely too lost in the moment for her to care though and though her stroking slowed, it did not stop.

What started as concern on his face quickly turned darker, into a hunger as he watched her body convulse in pleasure. In a husky, almost-growl, he asked "Sara, what are you doing?"

As her peak approached, she found herself uttering "Sam, please."

A moment later, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over her, and sliding his hand down to join hers. While she stroked, he navigated to her clit and rubbed the sensitive bud. She panted and clung to his arm with her other hand, as if to make sure he wouldn't suddenly disappear. Sara's body shuddered as her release came, her vision briefly going dark while the waves of pleasure coursed through her.

For a while, the only sound in the room was their breathing, both of their hands remaining where they were. Then Sam took her hand and gently pulled it out and up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around her fingers, tasting her sweet release with closed eyes. She shuddered again and her breath quickened. She removed her fingers from his mouth, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck and bringing his mouth down to hers. Their lips met, gently at first, almost tentative, then quickly growing hungry.

Sara's hands found their way under the bottom hem of his shirt and to his warm torso, savoring the feeling of getting to touch him. He was so warm and real and- and her teacher. In a panic, her senses rushing back, she abruptly broke off the kiss and sat up.

"Oh my god. I am so sorry." Sara hid her face in her hands, "mortified" not seeming a strong enough word for how she felt in that moment. She felt Sam's soft hands envelop hers, pulling them away and gently lifting her chin to meet his eyes.

"If you really are, I'll leave right now and pretend this never happened. I won't hold it against you, nor will I pressure you into anything further." She felt her heart flutter, looking into his dark brown eyes as he spoke. "If not, if you want me to stay, then I will do everything in my power to please you."

Sara found that she was at a loss for words. In fact, she might never have been able to speak, it was difficult to remember in this moment. Sitting next to her was the literal man of her dreams, offering to make her fantasies a reality. Assuming this was in fact reality and not an intricate work of her subconscious. In this moment, she found herself not caring all that much. That was for future-Sara to deal with. Present-Sara was busy.

Still at a loss for words, she nodded at him. He leaned over to her, his lips painfully close to hers. and whispered "I need to hear you say it."

"Please." The words came out as a plea, her need for him growing with each passing second.

Much to her initial dismay, he backed away from her and stood up. She quickly recovered through when he took off his shirt and climbed onto the bed, straddling her. He put his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her own shirt up and off, exposing her breasts. Between the chill air and current excitement, her nipples were firm and rosy. Sam cupped one of her breasts and teased the peak with his tongue, sending another shiver down her spine. He swirled his tongue around and sucked on the buds, whilst his other hand explored her body, caressing her side, her hip, her thigh.

Sam's mouth shifted to her other breast then up to her neck, sucking and nipping at the nape, eliciting an involuntary moan from her. She ran her fingers through his messy hair and pulled his mouth up to meet hers again, kissing him with a mounting desire. Sara felt his member twitch within his pants and moaned again.

"Sam, please." she pleaded, "I want you. I need you."

He kissed her one more time before hopping up and walking over to his dresser, where he pulled out a condom. She attempted to take advantage of the moment and take off her pants but stopped when Sam clicked his tongue at her in disapproval.

He slipped the condom in his pocket and made his way back over to her, grabbing her legs and swinging them over to the side of the bed. Getting on his knees between her legs, Sam leaned down and placed a kiss on her exposed hip.

"I want to unwrap my gift." he said, then slide the waistband down, placing another kiss on her upper thigh. He continued to remove her pajama pants, laying kisses on her newly-exposed skin as he went. Her hips bucked slightly as he got near her wet pussy, causing him to click his tongue at her again. "Patience, pet, I want to savor you."

Once finished, he stood and pulled down his own pants, letting free his eager member. Sliding on the condom, he swung her legs back up onto the bed and nestled between them. Dipping his head down, his tongue lapped at her folds, causing her back to arch in pleasure.

Sara instinctually moved a hand down to join him, but Sam growled and pinned both her hands above her head with one one of his, eliciting another whining moan from her. "Only I get to touch you right now, my pet. Say 'Yes, Sir' if you understand."

"Yes, Sir." she breathed. Just when she thought he couldn't get any sexier, here he was, dominating her. Professor Jamison had her pinned in his bed and was about to fuck her into oblivion.

"Good girl." he whispered, before sinking his firm member inside of her, slowly, allowing her a moment to acclimate. She moved her hips and he took that as a signal to move. He thrust slowly at first, trying with obvious effort not to rush anything. Sara wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper inside of her, and intentionally clenched her pussy around his cock.

He growled again and pulled out nearly all the way, before quickly thrusting back inside of her. Sara let out a loud moan as motes of light spotted her vision. Sam continued his deep thrusts, then transitioned to a quicker, more shallow pace. She wasn't the only needy one tonight.

They devolved into a single creature of need and hunger, crying out in a chorus of moans.

"Sam. Professor. I'm gonna cum." Sara panted, hands still pinned above her head. He shifted his other hand to stroke her clit, causing her hips to twitch involuntarily.

"Sara, my Sara," he whispered back. "My pet. I need you."

With a few more thrusts and the stimulation of her sensitive clit, Sara came undone, her body shaking in pure ecstasy. Her vision became pure light, her ears ringing as she rode the wave. Sam came shortly after, his body shuddering above hers and his cock twitching inside of her. He collapsed next to her, pulling her body into his as they both caught their breath.

Sara felt lightheaded and was extremely aware of their close proximity. His surprisingly strong arms around her, his face nuzzled into her neck, his chest rising and falling against her back. She wrapped her arms around his, once again attempting to prevent him from disappearing. Assuming this was real, she wanted to hold onto it for as long as she could.

***

Sara awoke the next morning to find a glass of water on the nightstand and her phone plugged in, which she didn't remember doing. As she greedily drank the water, the events of the previous night came back to her, causing her to breathe in some of the water and begin a coughing fit.

Sam appeared in the doorway and quickly made his way over to her, crouching down by her side, with one hand on her back. "Are you alright?" he asked.

The fit thankfully did not last for long and Sara found herself breathing air again, her eyes watering. She nodded at Sam, who remained crouched at her side.

"Last night..." she said slowly. "Did that really happen?"

Sam hesitated then nodded, "Yes, it did. Are you still okay with that? If not, my offer stands. We can pretend nothing ever happened. I won't hold it against you, nor will I pressure you into anything further." He put two fingers under her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. She knew that look, his eyes shining with passion. "Just so you know though, I don't regret a single moment. Being with you was incredible and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Sam," she breathed. "I've been wanting you for a while now. That was a literal dream come true. To be honest, I'm still not convinced this isn't a dream, so I'll take every second I can get."

He brought his mouth to hers and they kissed. Not as hungry as before, but still deep and full of longing. When the kiss finally ended, she could feel the smile on his lips. He kissed her forehead then stood.

"I'm no professional, but I made breakfast, if you're interested."

"Yes, sir." she said, standing up from the bed.

He gave her a wicked grin. "I could get entirely too used to hearing you say that, my pet."