Scarlet’s story
He lays his head on the university desk. “I should just drop out,” he mumbles to himself. The professor drones on and on. He thinks back to the birthday party he had 2 weeks ago. His mother had made him a fancy cake. His father wished him a happy birthday and then went to work; he worked the second shift his whole life; Cloud hardly knew the man. He had invited all of his friends to attend. But no one had come. ‘Happy 21st, loser,’ he told himself. He frowns, then shifts his legs. He smiles a secret smile and runs a hand across his flat pubic area. ‘At least I can wear cute panties to class,’ he thinks.
He had bought several with his birthday money, but these are special, red and lace-trimmed—the beginning of something new. His small stash of stolen pairs officially retired. ‘I salute your service,’ he jokes to himself.
Inside the new panties was a thick maxi pad to keep them clean. He tries to pay attention to the teacher, but he is boring. ‘Hot but so boring,’ he thinks while idly rubbing his pad. He looks again at the professor; he looks familiar.
The night before, he went to a club alone. The music was loud, and he drank his first shots with the bartender. Three shots in and feeling looser, he made his way to the dance floor, the loud beat thumping in his buzzing head.
He danced without concern. He let loose and danced in the most awkward way, the favorite red panties riding up, teasing him. He was surprised to feel someone’s body pressing up against him; he looked over his shoulder to see a blond-haired and older but handsome man. He danced back against him, feeling the stiffness of the man’s cock pressing into him.
He had never put much thought into his sexuality before. It’s hard to have an opinion when you have no experience, and now For the first time in his life, another person thinks he is sexy.
Then just as quickly the delightful feeling of someone grinding on him is gone. He felt alone in the middle of the dance floor.
‘Focus, if you don’t pass this class, you won’t graduate,’ he says in his head. The thought of another year in this miserable place is unbearable. He looks up at the teacher, who is also looking at him. He shifts his legs, spreading unconsciously. ‘Act manly,’ he stares back. The teacher looks away. ‘What class even is this?’ He slips a hand back to his padded front.
Looking up, the teacher is staring at him again. He rubs the front of his panties, mindlessly soothing and erotic. He notices the teacher is spending lots of time behind the desk and keeps looking at him off and on.
Cloud chews on his pencil, his penis swelling, rubbing between his legs. He drops his pencil; when he bends over to pick it up, he sees the front of the desk is missing. The professor has been watching him touch himself for the last 20 minutes. ‘Well, shit,’ he thinks, looking up from under the desk at the teacher.
He sits not touching himself, legs tightly together. The teacher keeps glancing his way. Whenever he would shift, he would part his legs. The teacher would cough or go stand behind the long desk. He started making a game of it whenever the lecture hit an important part; he would spread his legs, making sure to let the shorts show his panties.
Class ends. ‘Shit, game over. I guess it’s flipping burgers for the rest of my days.’ He sighs and packs his things up.
“Cloud, see me in my office,” the teacher demands.
‘Here we go, kicking me out of class; it’s worth it to tease him.’ He smirks and finishes packing his bag.
He sighs and heads to the professor’s office. When he enters, he finds the professor sitting behind his desk, early 30s, not bad-looking, blond, green eyes, Irish, if he had to guess.
‘We need to talk about your academic performance. Frankly, you’re going to fail my class unless you get a 90 on the next test and don’t miss a single assignment, and I am not convinced you can do it. You didn’t pay any attention today,” he finishes talking and leans back in his chair.
Cloud looks at the floor. “Yes, sir,” he says. The professor shifts in his chair. “I don’t know what to do, professor. The class is hard for me to understand,” he tells the fake wood flooring.
“And what class do you think this is?” the professor asks.
“It’s physics, right?” He looks down at his book, Physics 301.
“That explains why you’re failing. This is calculus. Now how do you explain flashing your panties at me? Are you attempting to seduce me? You know I can get in a lot of trouble for it,” the professor leans forward in his chair, fingers crossed. His pants are tight under the desk. ‘I have to be professional. Don’t let him seduce you. But he is so beautiful.
“Uh, I didn’t know the desk was broken, sir. At first… And, uh, I like how they feel and make me look,” he says, his pale skin turning scarlet. He comforts himself by crossing his arms and then internally screaming, ’What the hell was I thinking?’
“I see, so it wasn’t intentional…” The professor sets his hands on the desk in disappointment. “That’s a shame. Now, Cloud, we really can’t have you seducing me during class.” He shifts uncomfortably, his cock throbbing to escape his tight dress pants.
Cloud tries to console himself, ‘Maybe I could get a job selling cars?’ Wait, did he say, ‘That’s a shame?’ His own cock tightens. ‘Do we go for it?’ He can’t help but smile shyly. ‘Finally lose your virginity,’ he squeezes his hands. ‘To something other than a brush handle.’ Something inside Cloud lets go of the fear and self-doubt caused by years of being awkward and cast out from the popular crowds. He was pretty sure this professor was hitting on him. Maybe he could leverage it and pass this class.
Finally having made his decision, he says, “What about outside of class? Sir.” He sits on the edge of the desk, and the cloud lets the hem of his shirt rise to show the ruffled pink panty top. “Can I seduce you now?”
‘Shit, I can’t do this, can I?’ The professor professes to himself, ‘He really doesn’t remember me, does he?’ He frowns momentarily. ‘He was drunk.’ He finishes his thoughts and makes his own decision. “You already did once,” he smirks. “At the club you were dancing like no one was around. I came up behind you, and we danced for a few minutes.”
Cloud gasps, “It was you.” He relaxes some. “So are you kicking me out of class?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” He places a hand on Cloud’s. “I could give you private tutoring until you’re caught up.”
Cloud scoots closer till he is sitting on the desk in front of him. “Oh,” he says, “do you have time right now?”
The professor places a hand on Cloud’s thigh. “I have 3 hours till my next class. Would you like to get something to eat?” the professor says.
Cloud shakes his head, looking at the bulge in the professor’s pants. “But maybe you could feed me something.” Cloud looks up at the professor’s face, and the professor leans in, so Cloud leans in, and their lips brush each other’s. They use no hands at first, just lips.
The professor breaks down and runs his hands over Cloud’s small body, then pulls him onto his lap. He parts his lips a little as he feels Cloud wrap his arms around him.
He tasted minty.
Every time the professor’s hands roam across his chest, he moans, so the professor focuses on Cloud’s small nipples. He feels embarrassed at first; he had developed gynecomastia as a child and never grew out of it. And it has been a constant source of shame. But now it feels good. Cloud’s large cock was straining and leaking precum into his pad.
Cloud kneels down in front of the professor. His slender fingers unbuttoning the teacher’s pants and pulling his underwear down. His professorial cock is 6 inches and thick, well trimmed up. Cloud licks his lips.
‘You can do this; you have watched weeks’ worth of videos on it.’ He looks at the penis in front of him with desire. He looks up at the professor’s eyes while the teacher looks down at Cloud.
“Can I please, sir?” Cloud says in his best female voice. In response, he pulls Cloud’s face onto his throbbing tip. Cloud swirls his tongue, trying to keep his teeth off the sensitive member. Soon the professor’s thick member is half buried in his mouth as Cloud keeps trying to take more but gagging with inexperience. “You don’t have to take it all; use your hands,” the professor guides him. Cloud puts a hand on the base and tries stroking it.
Not choking every 5 seconds makes it much easier to go faster. He pumps and sucks. The precum is salty and almondy, pleasant and copious. Cloud keeps making eye contact. “If you keep going, I am going to fill,” the professor starts to say, but Cloud bobs harder and tries harder in general. They both moan, and Cloud slides a hand down to rub his overgrown clit through his panties.
“Who is my girl?” the professor says, his cock swelling in Cloud’s mouth. Cloud pulls the cock deeper until he gags and doesn’t let go. “Your name isn’t Red; it’s Scarlet.”
As uncomfortable as the rough treatment is and the tears are starting to form in his eyes, she is loving every second. ‘My name is Scarlet Cloud,’ she says proudly in her mind.
“Fuck, Scarlet, you’re so hot. I want to fill your mouth. I want you to have it all,” the professor says. Moving her head with his hands, “So close,” he groans.
The newly created Scarlet feels the professor’s cock pulse. Scarlet is about to cum herself. Scarlet tries one more time to relax her throat and take more of him inside her.
She manages to get him all the way in her mouth. She has a deep sense of pride for a moment before he begins filling her throat. Scarlet can feel jet after jet of hot cum shoot into her mouth. She rubs herself roughly through the pad; her member twitches and sprays hot cum all over her tight butt hole. She groans, still swallowing.
“Yeah, swallow it all,” the professor moans as he dazes off in bliss. His head leans back as he looks at the ceiling. She struggles pulling the cock out of her mouth. She has tears in her eyes and is attempting to catch her breath.
She lays her head on his knee. “Scarlet Cloud”
