The students leaned in, their invisible gazes intensifying the exposure. Silas's cock stretched me, hitting that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyes. He reached down, thumb circling my clit in time with his thrusts, building me up again. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his muscles flexing under his shirt as he claimed me publicly.
I clawed at his back, nails digging in, lost in the rhythm. "Silas... harder," I gasped, and he obliged, slamming deeper, his balls slapping against me. The pressure built, coiling tight in my core, until finally, with one last powerful thrust, I shattered. My pussy clenched around him, milking his cock as waves of pleasure ripped through me. He followed seconds later, groaning as he spilled inside, hot and thick, our bodies locked in ecstasy.
But the dream didn't end there. Silas pulled out slowly, his cum dripping from me, and he wasn't done educating. He dipped his fingers into the mess, holding them up. "See the aftermath? That's satisfaction." The class nodded, or at least their forms shifted in approval. He turned back to me, kissing my neck, marking me again as his.
I writhed under him, the exposure heightening every sensation. He flipped me over onto my stomach, the lectern hard against my breasts, and entered me from behind. His hands roamed my ass, spanking lightly at first, then harder, the sting blending with pleasure. "This angle hits deeper," he explained casually, as if it were a real lesson. His cock plunged in, filling me anew, the friction building fast.
The students' energy pulsed around us, feeding my arousal. Silas gripped my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my throat as he fucked me relentlessly. I pushed back against him, meeting every thrust, our bodies slick with sweat. His free hand snaked around to pinch my nipples, twisting just enough to make me cry out.
Another orgasm built, slower this time, drawn out by his deliberate pace. He varied it—slow, teasing strokes followed by rapid,punishing ones. "Watch how she responds," he said, voice rough. "Every woman's different, but Anthea... she loves it rough."
I did. God, I did. The dream blurred the lines between shame and desire, the faceless watchers amplifying the thrill. Silas sped up, his breath ragged, and I came again, screaming his name as my walls fluttered around him. He buried himself deep, releasing with a low growl, flooding me once more.
"Ah!" I jolted awake.
Daylight had broken. Morning light squeezed through the curtain gaps, casting a bright streak across the room.
I lay in bed, panting hard, heart racing like I'd just finished a marathon. Damn, good thing it was only a dream. I shut my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. But the images lingered—getting taken on the lectern in front of students... I couldn't think about it.
My body ached, soft and tingly, a familiar buzz spreading from my belly like I'd actually gone through a wild night. I shifted, then froze. My panties were soaked!
"Damn it!" I muttered, covering my face with my hand.
My body had betrayed me—just dreaming about that man inside me got me wet. I shook my head, trying to shake off Silas's aggressive eyes. But it didn't work.
I punched the bed in frustration. Time to find a guy. Get this crap out of my system so I wouldn't have these stupid dreams. But the first face that popped up was still him. Silas.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.
After a bit, I pushed down the chaos inside. I padded barefoot to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face. The woman in the mirror looked flushed, eyes still misty, like she'd just been satisfied.
"Anthea Carter, you're losing it," I muttered to the air. "Six years without a man, and you're this desperate? One wet dream turns you into this?"
I scrubbed my face hard, almost roughly, wiping away that unfamiliar sultry look. When I looked up for the towel, my gaze caught the mirror. I froze.
A faint pink mark sat on the side of my neck. I leaned in, staring. It was light, like something had sucked there... No, had to be a bug bite. This time of year, mosquitoes still showed up. Someone sneaking into my apartment and marking my neck without me knowing? Less likely than bugs in winter.
I dug into my makeup bag on the sink and grabbed the foundation. I dabbed, patted, blended until the pink vanished. I turned my head side to side, checking—no trace. Finally, I breathed easy.
After washing up, I scarfed down a sandwich and hailed a cab to school. The office door barely opened before Sarah pounced like she'd locked on target.
"Anthea!" She kept her voice low, but her eyes sparkled with excitement. "You know what the whole school's buzzing about?"
"What?" I stashed my bag in the drawer, clueless.
"Yesterday at lunch, some suited hunk whisked you off in a fancy car." She dragged a chair over, plopping down with that gossip grin. "God, did some tycoon snag you?"
"Sarah!" I shot her a glare, but I knew she meant no harm.
I glanced around. Good, just us in the office.
"Kidding, kidding." She stuck out her tongue. "But seriously, what happened?"
I sighed, ready with my story. "Just a parent wanting to talk about their kid's progress. Invited me to lunch. Flashy, yeah, but some parents roll like that."
"Talk about progress? More like progress to the bedroom." A nasty voice cut in from the door.
I looked up. Marcus leaned on the frame, arms crossed, smirking in that creepy way.
