Priya With Chemistry Professor

Priya was bright, curious, and painfully distracted. Final semester, last exam, and she was failing Chemistry—all thanks to Professor Aditya Sharma.

He was young for a professor. Early 30s, broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, always in crisp shirts with rolled-up sleeves that revealed muscular forearms. His voice was deep, calm, commanding. And Priya couldn’t concentrate when he spoke. All she could think about was his mouth.

After class one day, she waited until everyone had left. The chemistry lab was quiet, the hum of the city outside the windows the only sound.

“I… need help,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up from his notes, tapping his pen slowly. “You’ve barely passed a single test. Help might not be enough.”

Priya stepped closer, biting her lip nervously. “Maybe there’s another way.”

His eyes narrowed, curious and slightly amused. “Are you offering something, Miss Patel?”

She reached behind to lock the door, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m offering whatever gets me through this course.”

He stood and walked to her slowly, the tension in the air thick and palpable. “You think this is a game?” he growled, grabbing her wrist firmly but gently. “You’re about to play with fire.”

She placed his hand on her waist, her eyes locked onto his. “Then burn me, sir.”

He spun her around, pushed her against the lab table, and yanked her skirt up—no panties.

“Slut,” he hissed, spreading her legs. “You wanted this.”

His fingers slid between her folds—wet and ready.

“You’re soaked.”

“Only for you, sir,” she whispered, her voice breathy with desire.

He dropped to his knees, buried his face in her pussy, and licked her with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue swirled, his fingers gripping her thighs as she moaned his name over and over, her body trembling with each lick.

Then he stood, dropped his belt, and shoved into her from behind—fast, deep, brutal. The lab table creaked under their combined weight. Priya screamed into her sleeve, her tight body squeezing around him with every thrust.

“You came in here to get fucked for a grade,” he growled, his voice hoarse with lust. “And now you’re going to earn every mark.”

He pulled her hair, arched her back, and slammed into her harder. Her orgasm hit like a wave—legs trembling, breath gone. She clung to the table, her knuckles white, as waves of pleasure washed over her.

He flipped her onto her back, lifting her thighs up to her shoulders, and rammed back in—balls slapping, table shaking. The intensity of his thrusts sent shockwaves through her body, each one more powerful than the last.

When he came inside her, he grunted like an animal, flooding her full, then collapsing on top of her, his chest heaving with exertion. They lay there for a moment, their breaths mingling, the scent of sex heavy in the air.

“Still want that grade?” he murmured in her ear, his voice soft but commanding.

She grinned wickedly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Only if I get another private session next week.”

He zipped up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Same time. Door locked.”

As Priya straightened her clothes and walked out of the lab, she couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. She had taken control of her situation, and in doing so, had unleashed a passion that neither she nor Professor Sharma could ignore. The city of Mumbai buzzed around her, oblivious to the secret desires that burned between them. And as she prepared for her next encounter, she knew that this was just the beginning of a dangerous and exciting journey.