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“B-but how can I teach guys how to … to get off?” I asked, glancing around at the mix of females and males in the classroom today.
If we were learning how to masturbate, then I couldn’t teach a bunch of guys! I didn’t have a dick.
“Most of these guys have been jerking off since they were in high school,” Professor Patton said, gently moving his hand across my shoulder and squeezing. “They don’t need you to teach them how to get off.”
“Then, why are they here?” I asked shyly.
“Because, Sierra, it’s not every day they get to watch a beautiful woman touch herself.”
Swallowing hard, I pressed my thighs together and peeked around at the other students again. Nerves bubbled up inside me. Sure, I had fucked Professor Patton in front of them before, but I had never been the center of attention like this.
“Come,” Professor Patton said, walking to his desk. “Up here. Class is about to begin.”
When the students quieted down, I slowly slipped out of my seat and headed to the front of the class. Professor Patton placed a hand on my shoulder, his fingers curling around my arm and making me warm in all those sinful places.
“Tonight, Miss Monroe will teach the girls how to touch themselves,” he announced. “This is a hands-on experience for everyone involved, so get comfortable and watch Sierra make”—he dropped his voice—“her little pussy feel good.”
Pleasure shot through my body at the mere sound of his voice. I swallowed my nerves and shimmied out of my clothes until I stood in front of the class in nothing but a set of lacy black lingerie and my diamond necklace. Professor Patton leaned against my empty desk with his huge arms crossed over his chest, watching my every move.
“Be a good girl, Sierra,” he said. “You know you should be naked.”
“Or what?” I found myself saying before I could stop myself.
Professor Patton cocked a brow. “Or we will push this class to a later date, and I can teach everyone how to punish a bratty little mouth like yours. Is that what you would like, Miss Monroe?”
My heart raced as my cheeks flushed, nipples hardening through my bra. His gaze dropped to them for a second, then to my thighs pressed together.
“You want to be punished harder,” he concluded. “Noted for a future session.”
I whimpered softly, my panties soaked through already, and unclasped my bra so my breasts fell out of it. Then, I pushed down my underwear to my ankles and stepped out of them. I shuffled back onto his desk nervously.
“Go ahead, Sierra,” he said. “Teach us.”
“Do you want me to”—I swallowed—“just … touch myself?”
“I want you to show us how you finger that dripping cunt while you’re home, alone.”
Brow furrowing, I reluctantly posted my feet on the edge of the desk and spread my thighs so everyone could see just how wet my pussy was, like Professor Patton had said. My gaze flickered around the room, watching the other women copy my movements and the guys undoing the button of their jeans.
Then, I looked over at my professor, gaze falling to the front of his pants.
To his throbbing bulge.
Another whimper escaped my lips, and I slipped my hand between my legs. My fingers moved across my clit, back and forth, rubbing in small circles. The pressure rose in my core, my empty pussy clenching on nothingness.
“Don’t look at me, Sierra,” Professor Patton said. “You’re here to teach the class.”
Gulping, I shifted my gaze from him to the class again as I watched everyone touching themselves now. I rubbed my cunt even faster, heart pounding inside my chest. I so desperately wanted to look back over at him now, wanted to touch myself to him.
Especially when he kicked himself off my desk and moved closer to me.
“We’re going to add a toy,” he murmured, digging around in his desk drawer.
Like he had demanded, I continued to rub my pussy and kept my gaze on the class. The guys were stroking their dicks, and the other girls were getting themselves off … to me. Which only made me wetter.
Professor Patton walked around the desk with an eight-inch-long, three-inch-thick dildo in his large hand. I stared at it through wide eyes and clenched my tight pussy, heart pounding.
“You’re going to put that inside me?” I squeaked. “It’s way too big.”
