Chapter 2 Fucking her hot professor PT. 2

Alaric pulled away from Eleanor's breast, his eyes still blazing with that dark, possessive fire. Eleanor was breathless, her body humming, her nipples aching for his mouth. She felt a strange mix of shame and an overwhelming, desperate need for more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. "You're learning fast. But we've only just begun the real lesson."

He stepped back, his gaze sweeping over her, lingering on her open dress and the swell of her bare breasts. Eleanor felt a shiver, not of cold, but of raw anticipation. She watched him, mesmerized, her mind a blank slate except for the burning desire he'd ignited.

"Take off your clothes, Eleanor," he commanded, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument. "All of them. Slowly."

Her heart hammered. Take off her clothes? Here? For him? It was insane. It was wrong. But the word "no" felt stuck in her throat. Her fingers, still trembling, went to the buttons of her dress, pulling the fabric from her shoulders.

The tweed dress slid down, pooling around her feet. She stood before him in just her delicate lace panties, her skin flushed, her breasts still heaving. The air in the room felt thick, charged with the unspoken things between them.

He walked around her, his eyes devouring every inch of her body. Eleanor felt exposed, vulnerable, yet strangely powerful under his intense gaze. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, even without him touching her.

"Now," he said, stopping in front of her again. His eyes dropped to her hips, then lower. "Open your legs, Eleanor."

Her legs felt heavy, rooted to the spot. But the command was clear, undeniable. Slowly, hesitantly, she parted her thighs, just a little at first.

"Wider," he instructed, his voice a low growl. "Don't be shy, little one. Let me see what you're hiding."

She widened her stance, her knees trembling. The lace of her panties now barely concealed the blonde curls at her crotch. She felt a blush spread over her entire body, from her toes to the roots of her hair.

He knelt before her, his gaze locked on her "jewels." Eleanor felt a strange, hot liquid begin to seep between her thighs. Her juices. She was so wet, so ready.

"Good," he breathed, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Now, reach down. Touch your juices."

Eleanor gasped. Her hand instinctively went to her crotch, her fingers brushing against the damp lace. The heat, the wetness, was undeniable. She could feel the pulse throbbing between her legs.

"Feel that, Eleanor?" he murmured, his voice husky. "That's what I do to you. That's what you want. Now, lick them. Rub them on your boobs."

Her eyes widened in shock. Lick her own juices? And then... rub them on her breasts? It was so vulgar, so utterly depraved. But the command was absolute.

With a shaky breath, she dipped a finger into her wetness, then brought it to her mouth. The taste was salty, musky, intensely her own. A shiver ran through her. Then, she obeyed, rubbing her wet finger over one of her nipples, then the other. The sensation was electrifying, the combination of her own scent and the arousal on her sensitive skin.

He watched her, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his own arousal evident in the bulge beneath his trousers. His eyes never left her, a dark, possessive hunger in their depths.

"That's it," he praised, his voice thick with desire. "You're such a good girl. Now, open your jewels, Eleanor. I want to see everything."

He reached out, his large hands gently parting the lace of her panties. His fingers brushed against the soft, blonde curls, then slowly, deliberately, he moved them aside, revealing her swollen, glistening vulva. Eleanor felt a sudden rush of vulnerability, but also a strange, powerful thrill.

He looked absolutely aroused, his eyes devouring the sight. He leaned in, his hot breath caressing her sensitive flesh.

"Now, stick a finger in, Eleanor," he commanded, his voice barely a whisper. "Show me how wet you are. Show me how much you want this."

She obeyed instantly, her finger sliding into her slick entrance. A small gasp escaped her lips. The sensation was intense, the friction of her own finger against her virgin flesh. She pushed it deeper, then slowly pulled it out, bringing more of her juices to the surface.

He watched her, his eyes blazing. "Perfect. Now, my turn."

He leaned down, his head descending, and Eleanor felt a wave of pure shock and anticipation. His tongue, hot and wet, brushed against her clitoris.

"Nghh," she moaned, her body arching involuntarily. His tongue circled, then latched on, suckling her clitoris with an intensity that stole her breath.

"Umm... please, sir," she whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingers digging into his expensive suit jacket. She wasn't sure what she was begging for – for him to stop, for him to go deeper, for this overwhelming pleasure to never end.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his voice muffled against her skin. "Please what, Eleanor? Tell me. Tell me what you need."

"Deeper," she gasped, her hips bucking. "Please, deeper!" She pushed his head deeper into her pussy, needing to feel him at that exact spot, needing the pressure, the suction, the raw, undeniable pleasure.

He obeyed, his tongue and mouth working her relentlessly. Eleanor moaned, loud and uninhibited, her cries swallowed by a sudden crash of thunder outside. The rain continued to lash down, mirroring the storm raging inside her. Her body convulsed with pleasure, wave after wave washing over her.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly pulled away, leaving her gasping, trembling, and utterly spent. He stood up, his breathing heavy, his eyes still dark with desire.

"Stay right there, little one," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "I have some tools that will help you learn even faster."

He walked over to a dark, wooden cabinet in the corner of the room. Eleanor watched him, her mind hazy with pleasure, a strange mix of fear and curiosity bubbling within her. He opened the cabinet, revealing an array of gleaming metal and leather. Toys.

He returned with a length of soft, dark rope and a small, vibrating ball. Her eyes widened.

"This," he said, holding up the rope, "is for ensuring you pay full attention."

Before she could react, he gently but firmly guided her to a sturdy, ornate pillar in the study. He tied her wrists above her head, securing them to the pillar with practiced ease. Eleanor felt a thrill of fear, mixed with an undeniable excitement, as her body was stretched taut, exposed.

"Good girl," he praised, his fingers tracing a line down her stomach. "Now, for your next lesson."

He picked up the small, vibrating ball. "This, Eleanor, is for your... inner understanding."

He knelt again, his eyes meeting hers, a wicked glint in their depths. He parted her blonde curls, revealing her slick, swollen entrance. Eleanor gasped as he slowly, deliberately, pushed the vibrating ball into her pussy.

It slid in with a wet pop. She cried out, a mix of shock and the sudden, intense vibration that filled her. He pressed a button on the base of the ball, and the vibrations intensified, sending shivers through her entire body.

As the ball hummed inside her, he leaned down, his mouth closing over one of her breasts again, suckling hard. At the same time, his fingers, strong and knowing, slid into her pussy, alongside the vibrating ball.

Eleanor screamed, a muffled sound of pure, overwhelming sensation. His fingers plunged deeper, stretching her, while the vibrating ball hummed and churned inside her. He was sucking her breasts ravenously, his tongue swirling around her nipples, making her head spin.

She was being fucked by his fingers, filled by the ball, and having her breasts devoured, all at once. The pleasure was too much, too intense, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled his mouth from her breast, his voice a low, triumphant rasp. "You're so tight, Eleanor. So incredibly tight. Has no one ever truly been inside you?"

Eleanor whimpered, shaking her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes from the sheer intensity. "N-no... only... only my husband's hands..."

A dark, satisfied smile spread across his face. "Is that so? Well, then, little one. It seems I have the distinct pleasure of being your first."

He pulled his fingers out, leaving her throbbing, aching, and empty except for the humming ball. He stood, unzipped his trousers, and revealed his hard, thick erection. Eleanor's eyes widened, her breath catching. It was bigger than she'd imagined, thick and dark, pulsing with life.

He took her hips in his hands, pulling her against him, aligning his throbbing tip with her wet, waiting entrance.

"Hold on tight, Eleanor," he whispered, his voice dark with promise. "This is where the real education begins."

He pushed, slowly, deliberately. Eleanor cried out, a sharp, piercing sound as her virgin flesh stretched, tore, and gave way. A searing pain, quickly followed by an intense fullness, ripped through her. She gasped, her body arching against the ropes that held her.

He paused, letting her adjust, his eyes locked on hers. "That's it, little one. You're mine now."

He pushed again, deeper, until he was fully buried inside her, filling her completely. The vibrating ball inside her was now pressed against by his thick shaft, amplifying the sensations to an unbearable degree. Eleanor's legs trembled, her body shaking uncontrollably.

He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. "Welcome, Eleanor," he breathed, his voice a low, triumphant growl. "Welcome to the real world."