My Class, Disrupted

Note: Thank you to everyone who stuck around for my final installment and most of all to all of you who reached out and commented, it's much appreciated. This story is now over, but I have an idea for Prof. Levin's next adventure, so if you want to keep following our beloved heroine, please drop me a line.

The night I went over to Trent Barkley's house, everything changed. Every rule I had had been broken, and I lived to tell the tale. The life I lived up to that point would never be enough again and I couldn't go back to it. Leaving his apartment with my flip flops in my hand and the cold metal key squeezed between my old panties and wet pussy, my mind was buzzing. There was a ringing in my ears, I barely knew where I was.

I got home after 5 a.m. My husband was asleep, and I wanted it to stay that way for the time being. After a quick shower I got dressed for work, put Trent's key in my purse and made coffee for my husband and myself. I messed up the spare room bed to make it look like I slept in it and sat down to go over my The Master and Margarita notes. It was a good thing this wasn't my first time teaching this class because I could not concentrate on my notes all week.

"Good morning honey" I said when my husband walked in, wearing his pajamas.

"Good morning, Elana" he yawned "did you sleep at all last night?"

"Oh my god, barely. I just got in a couple of hours."

"On a school night?!" He laughed.

"It was so fun though... I made you some coffee babe" I poured him a cup.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. What are you preparing for this morning?"

"My Russian novel course, Bulgakov."

"Oh, that's a classic. So funny. Do you still enjoy teaching it after all these years?"

"You know, I feel this year I'm finding new angles to these heroines."

"Well, these books are classic for a reason I guess."

That day at work is something of a blur in my memory. Mostly I remember feeling happy. Like a burden was lifted from my chest, like I was unleashed from a cage, or from the pillory. But when I left my last meeting of the day, I noticed Trent buying some food from a little shop on the quad. I stopped in my tracks. My hand slowly reaching to my earlobe, massaging it as I tried to find a reason not to... But I couldn't, so I did.

I walked quickly over to my car, threw my bag in the back and reversed out of my parking spot. Pulling up across from the sandwich shop I honked my horn once. Trent's eyes locked on mine. My determined look was met by his nod. He dropped a bill on the counter next to his half-eaten lunch and came over, sitting down in the passenger seat of my car.

I drove off. It felt different being in control of the car, deciding for myself where we're going. I wasn't going far though. I took the road out of town and turned off away from the freeway. Within five minutes I was sitting in my back seat, on Trent Barkley's lap and making out with him like he was my high school boyfriend. Forty-five minutes later I dropped him back at the campus gates and drove home.

The last two weeks of the semester we spent time together almost every day. On days where I knew Trent had morning classes I woke him up with a blow job, letting myself in with his key, taking the taste of his cum to work with me. We fucked twice on my office desk, and once on my office floor. I sucked his cock in an empty classroom and the next day he fingered me in one of the chemistry labs. On Saturday, I thought we'd have to take a break, but I ran into him while out with my family at the mall and we snuck off to have a quicky in a bathroom stall.

On the last day of the semester, I gave out my written assessment to all my Russian novel students, with one special one at the bottom of the pile. At the top of Trent's assessment, it read: Tomorrow, 10:00 a.m., 23 Little Oak Road. I watched Trent's eyes widen as he took in what I was telling him. A wide smile spread on his face. Did he think I was going to give up on this just because it was summer vacation?

The next morning, I took a long bath, making sure I smelled nice, but sexual. I put on a pink silky bodysuit and covered it with a matching robe. I took out my tallest heels and put on just a hint of perfume, right on time for the doorbell. With a bottle of wine in his hands, a loose tank top that showed off his toned arms and black jeans, Trent stood in the doorway. He only took one glance at me and dove in for a kiss. Our lips met passionately, in a frenzy, both of us knowing this was different.

Grabbing the front of Trent's shirt in my fist I pulled him inside and slammed him against the door. The bottle of wine was placed mid-kiss on a little table, my heels tossed off lay strewn in the front hall, each one next to one of Trent's sneakers. I felt Trent's strong hands grab my sides, flow from hip, to back, down to ass, and up to my breasts. I was exploring under his shirt, feeling every muscle, every hair. A tank top was hanging from a lamp, and a belt was dangling from the couch when I finally felt Trent undo my robe and drop it on the banister as he dropped his jeans and stepped out of them.

By the time we made our way, kissing, licking and sucking, to the top of the stairs, Trent's boxers were nowhere to be seen, and my bodysuit was destined to being forgotten on the landing. Entering my bedroom, I looked up at Trent's face and put both hands on his shoulders. Lowering my arms I watched Trent get down on his knees, looking up at me. I lifted my bare white leg and put my foot on the bed. Allowing full access to my pussy.

The next 15 minutes were heaven. Trent had become so attuned to every moan and groan I had in my range. He knew when to suck my clit hard, and when to caress my pussy lips with his tongue. He knew when playfully bite and when to bury himself in me so fully he came out gasping for air.

I leaned back and forth, sometimes fully sitting on Trent's face, sometimes making him work to reach my flowing juices, which were now covering him completely. Every gasp, breath or whimper was like a command that Trent learned to execute flawlessly, knowing better than I knew myself what the next note was to be. Making me climax at the foot of my bed louder than I ever had in it.

Trent got up and lay on his back. I crawled onto the bed and gave Trent a long, sweet kiss. I tasted my own juices, but also the arousal in his breath. Crawling over him I raised myself up, and facing the foot of the bed slid his long, curved cock into my pussy. At this point I was so ready I could have taken two cocks probably. I felt the tip slithering through my body stabbing my insides, making me scream in delight.

"Oh Trent, baby!", Trent grunted with pleasure in response. I rocked my hips back and forth, grinding on this dick, feeling it change angles inside me, yelling with every thrust. The tip of Trent's cock poking at every bit of insides I had, the shaft sliding against my pussy, stimulating me, making me see everything shaky and blurred.

A symphony of creaking springs, straining boards, grunts and yelps filled the room. I was no longer aware of time or space, everything was rhythm, movement, smells and sounds, and of course the feeling of being full of cock. That may be the reason I didn't notice my husband standing in the doorway to the bedroom with a look of shock on his face and a closed bottle of wine in his hand.

"Elana!" he managed to shout eventually.

"Oh baby, don't stop!" I answered, just as loud.

"Elana, what the hell are you doing?"

"Fucking... Trent... Barkley" I managed to belt out in rhythm with our thrusting bodies.

"Can you... can you stop so we can talk?" He was almost begging.

"Don't stop Trent baby, you're so fucking good" I said in a whimper.

My breasts shaking violently, my voice as well, I felt myself reaching the top of the wave. My husband was still standing there, dumbfounded, finally taking out his phone to take a picture, and saying "get your fucking things out by the time I bring home the girls". He stormed out just as I was yelling "Oh my god! Ohmygod ohmygod OHMYGOD! YES! YES! YES! FUCK!".

We drank the bottle of wine in Trent's kitchen. A suitcase stuffed with my clothes and other various things was standing in the front hall. I left most of my things: books, pictures, household items. We got drunk and fucked again that night, but I knew it wouldn't last. I stayed in his house for two weeks. We pounded each other all day every day. I don't know if I've ever gone that long without wearing a single article of clothing. But, once the excitement of sneaking around wasn't there I knew it wouldn't be enough.

My husband didn't post the picture anywhere, at least not that I saw, but he made sure the story got around. I had to leave my teaching job, and I was obviously no longer wanted in any of my former circles. What I had though, was something greater. I was awake. I knew what I wanted, and I knew I would go and get it.

The end.