Professor Alhaitham X Cam Girl Student Reader - Blog Posts

⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

part 4 [final]

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language, slight breeding kink, multiple orgasms, body worshipping (f! receiving) (these warnings are for all 4 parts)

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾... I FINALLY WROTE THE LAST PART (im sorry i took months but ehe..here)

11.6k words (i died writing but i hope you guys enjoy it)

pls do leave a like, a reblog and mostly a comment !! thank youuu hehe <3

usagiibun2025🐇

After slipping out of the college building, you both move quickly toward Alhaitham’s car, almost as if trying to stay out of sight, like you’re concealing a secret too precious to be seen. His hand hovers near the small of your back, guiding you with a gentle but firm touch, and your pulse races each time his fingers brush against you. In the dimming evening light, shadows lengthen over the campus, wrapping around you as though trying to draw you together in a quiet intimacy.

Once you reach his car, you both slide in without a word, but the silence thrums with something unspoken. The scent of leather and the faintest trace of his cologne settle around you, mingling with the soft warmth of the evening air. He starts the car, and you can’t help but glance at him, noticing the slight dishevelment in his appearance—the faint tousling of his hair, the loosened collar, small signs of the heated moments just passed. There’s a charged stillness between you, and when his gaze shifts over, meeting yours, you both exchange a look that says everything without a word.

As he pulls out of the lot, you feel an ache blooming inside—a desire mixed with anticipation, but there’s an unexpected nervousness threading through it all. Your eyes drift to the darkening sky outside, watching as the soft hues of the sunset melt away, replaced by a quiet dusk that grows thicker with every mile.

Glancing sideways, you catch his profile in the fading light, his expression calm and controlled, yet there’s an undeniable heat in his gaze when he looks at you—a glint that makes your heart race and your thoughts spin even faster.

Your mind starts racing with a plethora of questions. What would happen after tonight? Would he even care to know you beyond this? Or was this all just a moment of curiosity for him? You’re excited, yes, but the uncertainty feels like a weight pressing on your chest but then, beneath the excitement and nervous thrill, another reality sharpens into focus—he’s your professor. The thought winds around your mind, a reminder of just how complicated this could become.

The closer you get to your apartment, the more your mind races, tangling with thoughts you can’t quite silence.

In the dim glow of the passing streetlights, he notices the shift in your expression, and his eyes linger on you a little longer. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly, his voice careful, threading through the silence with a calm steadiness.

You hesitate, glancing down, hands tightening against each other in your lap. There’s a flutter of uncertainty and the gnawing fear that maybe you’re reading too much into this. “Yeah, I just…” You trail off, trying to find the words, but they feel heavy on your tongue, reluctant to reveal the vulnerability simmering beneath the surface.

He pulls the car to the side of the road, dim and tucked away, turning his full attention to you. His gaze is so intent that it makes you feel seen in a way that both unnerves and comforts you. His expression softens, and the patience in his light turquoise eyes calms some of the jittery nerves swirling in your stomach.

“If you’re not sure about this,” he begins, his tone gentle and grounding, “we don’t have to go any further. I can just take you home, and we’ll leave things as they were.”

The softness in his voice, the reassurance without expectation, makes something twist inside of you, and you shake your head almost instinctively. “No.” Your hand reaches out, tentatively finding his where it rests on the console, and his fingers curl around yours, enveloping your hand in his. The size difference is striking—his fingers strong, warm, almost encompassing yours entirely. A small comfort, grounding you.

Looking down at your joined hands, your heart stutters with a mix of emotions. Could you really mean this much to him, as more than just something fleeting? Or are you just trying to comfort yourself with false hopes ? You gather your breath, the words tangled in your chest, but you finally find the courage to let them out, voice barely a whisper. “I… I really like you, Alhaitham,” you admit, eyes flickering up to meet his. “Even though I couldn’t stand you at first,” you add with a soft, nervous laugh, hoping the admission doesn’t seem foolish.

His thumb gently traces over your knuckles, a faint smile lifting his lips. “I’m aware,” he says quietly, the teasing lilt in his voice lightening the moment, his eyes crinkling at the corners just slightly, like he’s remembering every sharp look and dismissive glance you ever sent his way.

You try to smile, but the vulnerability hangs heavy. “It’s just… after this, I don’t know how things will be. And I don’t want this to just be… a one-time thing.” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying the fear you’ve tried so hard to hold back. “I know it probably doesn’t mean as much to you. I mean… I’m just a cam girl to you, right?”

His expression shifts, a flicker of surprise and something deeper crossing his face. Before you can say anything else, he reaches out, his hand cradling your cheek, thumb tracing softly over your skin, grounding you in that gentle touch. He looks at you with an intensity that goes beyond words, like he’s peeling back every layer, taking in everything you’re struggling to hide.

“It wasn’t… always this way,” he admits, his voice low and warm. “At first, yes—it was just curiosity. But the more I watched, the more I noticed things I didn’t expect.” His gaze holds yours, his sincerity radiating through every word. “You aren’t just a face on a screen. There’s a depth to you—how you speak, how you think. I like you for… more than what you’re afraid of.”

The honesty in his eyes, the gentleness in his touch, dissolves some of the tension in your chest. But the moment feels fragile, like the weight of your insecurities might shatter it, and your breath hitches, the emotion catching in your throat.

Before you realize it, a tear slips down your cheek, thick and glistening, catching the dim light like a crystal. You feel foolish, trying to wipe it away, but he brushes it aside first, his thumb gentle as it trails over your skin, leaving warmth in its wake.

He misreads the reason behind your tears, concern softening his gaze. “You don’t have to feel pressured into anything,” he murmurs. “We can stop here, if this is too much for you.”

You shake your head, your hand rising to cover his where it cups your cheek, grounding you in the warmth and steadiness of him. “No, it’s… it’s not that,” you whisper, voice barely steady. “I’m just… scared, I guess. I’m scared of wanting more.”

His thumb brushes gently along your jawline, and his eyes hold yours, unwavering. “You don’t need to be afraid of that.” His voice is low, but each word carries a quiet conviction. “I like you too. For more than what you think.”

The sincerity in his tone, the simple truth of his words, reaches something deep within you. And as you look into his eyes, you see the warmth there, a tenderness that mirrors the feelings you’ve kept guarded for so long. It’s enough to ground you, to soothe the ache of uncertainty, even if just for this moment.

For a while, neither of you speak, the silence settling comfortably between you as his hands stay cradling your face, your fingers gently brushing over his. His eyes search yours with a quiet intensity, as though he’s memorizing every detail, every unspoken thought hidden behind your gaze. And in that stillness, you feel a kind of calmness settle over you—a calmness that promises that whatever comes next, this moment is real.

With the air between you charged, and his touch grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected, your gaze falls to his mouth, lingering there as your pulse quickens. Gathering the courage from the look in his eyes—gentle yet intense, like he’s offering a silent promise—you lean in, heart racing as your lips finally meet his.

The first contact is soft, tentative, but quickly the kiss deepens, taking on a fervent urgency. His hands slide up, one hand steady on the side of your face, the other resting along your back, pulling you closer until there’s no distance left. Your mouths part in sync, and the kiss grows hungrier, tongues brushing, tasting, as if you’re both pouring out every unspoken feeling into that single moment. The sensation is overwhelming, and his mouth against yours feels like a perfect mix of warmth and something deeper, as though he’s letting you glimpse every emotion he’s held back.

Without breaking the kiss, Alhaitham’s hands find your waist, his grip firm but gentle as he guides you across the console, pulling you into his lap. You settle against him, feeling the strength beneath his steady composure, the subtle shift in his breath, as if even he is losing his usual restraint. His hand splays across your lower back, holding you securely as your fingers tangle into his hair, drawing him closer, desperate for more.

You both fit together, the closeness erasing all hesitation. His fingers press into your back, drawing you even closer, and when his tongue slides against yours again, a soft sound escapes you, caught between surprise and desire. The kiss continues, long and unbroken, as if neither of you want it to end. Each movement, each soft press of his lips and gentle trace of his hands, conveys the quiet intensity that words can’t quite capture.

Finally, he pulls back just enough for his forehead to rest against yours, breaths mingling in the close air. His gaze, now clouded and intent, meets yours, and in that stillness, you realize how much you both wanted this moment—how it goes beyond just the physical, reaching somewhere neither of you had planned.

Your apartment welcomed the both of you in hushed tones, the soft click of the door behind you folding the night outside. You slipped your shoes off with quiet ease, and Alhaitham followed, the space still unfamiliar to him, yet already wrapped in the scent of you—warm, faintly floral, lived-in.

He didn’t ask where to go. He didn’t need to. When you offered your hand, he took it without hesitation, your fingers weaving into his as you guided him through the soft-lit hall and into your bedroom. It was modest, personal. A place shaped by your solitude and quiet nights. He stood there for a moment, letting his eyes settle on the details—the books on your nightstand, the folds in your bedsheets, the way the curtains swayed slightly from an open window.

You turned to him then, your hand still in his, delicate and steady. “Would you pick something for me? And to put it on ?” you asked, voice hushed like a confession. “For tonight’s stream.”

There was no playfulness in your tone—only trust. An offering.

He nods. Wordlessly, you slipped your fingers from his and walked to your wardrobe. When you opened it, the different outfits stretched toward him like a quiet invitation. You stepped aside to give him room, and he moved forward with a kind of reverence, letting his gaze drift slowly over silks and lace, colours and textures, all these glimpses of the you the world never truly knew.

His hand hovered for a breath before settling on a piece—black, delicate, the kind of fabric that would whisper over skin and hold moonlight in its threads. He drew it out gently, as though it were something sacred.

And then—he simply looked at you. Eyes steady, mesmerized. Like he wasn’t just seeing a woman, but a moment. A choice. A silence filled with meaning.

 Alhaitham gently held up the delicate black lingerie he has picked for you, his eyes met yours, lingering with a mixture of admiration and restraint. The sheer fabric, detailed with intricate lace and soft ribbons, seemed almost fragile in his hands, yet he handled it with reverence, as though it were crafted just for you. His gaze roamed over the piece before returning to meet your eyes, silently asking if you were ready.

As your fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, you felt Alhaitham’s eyes on you, watching your every movement with an intensity that made the room feel warmer. You took a deep, steadying breath, your heart hammering in your chest, then slowly lifted the fabric over your head, letting it fall to the floor. Your hands nimbly work at your bra, snapping it open and releasing your breasts.

Your face burns red, mind racing with thousands of thoughts. You couldn't believe you where undressing in front of your professor, the thought of this made your skin flush and body tremble as his gaze lingered, tracing the lines of your form as if trying to capture each detail, his usual calm demeanor shifting, almost breaking.

Your fingers hooked at your skirt, gulping lighting as you pulled the material down revealing the delicate  panties you wore, adorned with a tiny bow at the front.

The fabric clung to your folds, accentuating the shape of your cunt. A subtle dampness had formed between your folds, making the material slightly sheer, hinting at your body's response to his presence. Alhaitham admired the way the panties hugged you perfectly, creating a contrast that was both innocent and alluring.

Your gaze falls back on him, his grip on the lingerie tight and his eyes never left the sight of your body, drinking it in, you hesitated only slightly before hooking your fingers into the sides of your underwear, feeling sligtly conscious.

His eyes held an unspoken encouragement, unwavering and patient, as if he wanted you to take your time and savor this vulnerable moment.

Finally, you pushed the last piece of fabric down, letting it pool at your feet.  You stood completely bare before him, every nerve in your body heightened.

Your nipples were perked from the cold chill from the room, your pussy glistening from your arousal— the sight of you made Alhaitham’s cock throb.

Though he had already seen you in your most intimate moments through the screen, standing here now, bare and vulnerable in front of him, felt entirely different. His gaze roamed over you, slow and reverent, drinking in every detail as if memorizing it. There was an awe in his eyes, as if the glow of your skin and the curve of your form held a softness that had been missed by any camera lens. Here, under his intense gaze, you felt more ethereal than ever, like he was seeing something hidden beneath the surface.

Alhaitham took a step closer, his expression softened, yet his eyes held a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. Slowly, he reached out, his fingers skimming along your shoulder and down the curve of your arm, a featherlight touch that left goosebumps in its wake. His touch felt reverent, each brush of his hand tracing your form with a sense of purpose.

When he began to dress you, guiding each delicate piece of lingerie onto your skin, his hands worked slowly, his fingers pressing gently into the plushness of your thighs as he adjusted the garters and straps. His hands traced upwards, pausing as his fingertips brushed close to your core, teasing, lingering there with an excruciating lightness. His gaze never left yours, as though drawn to the expression in your eyes, a magnetic pull that kept him anchored.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low hum, his fingers still teasingly close but never quite touching. “More than I could have imagined.”

The words left you breathless, and the ghostlike traces of his hands, the heat of his proximity, only intensified the longing pooling between you. His touch was filled with restraint, a slow burn, making every gentle, teasing pass of his fingers a silent promise for what was yet to come. Once Alhaitham had stepped out of frame, he takes a seat on a chair that was directly behind your cam set up. Your eyes were drawn to him, his intense eyes stare at you, you couldn't help but stare at the way

The live session began with a soft chime, and you immediately slipped into your usual persona, a flirtatious smile gracing your lips as you leaned forward, ensuring the angle was just enough to tease your audience without giving too much away.

“Good evening, my loves,” you purred, your voice dripping with honey. “Miss Bunny missed you all so much. Did you miss me too?”

The chat exploded with responses, compliments flooding in about how beautiful you looked tonight, how stunning your lingerie was, and how they had been counting the hours until they could see you again. Your fingers danced over the comments as you read them aloud, your tone playful and coy.

“‘You look ravishing tonight, Bunny.’ Aw, thank you! I try my best for you,” you cooed, shifting slightly on the bed, your skin prickling with awareness.

But despite your focus on the screen, your gaze kept betraying you, darting back to where Alhaitham sat behind the camera. His eyes—those piercing aquamarine depths—bore into you, unwavering and intense. The dim light made him appear almost predatory, the sharp lines of his face casting shadows that highlighted the slight tension in his jaw. His shirt stretched over his broad chest, the muscles beneath barely contained, and his long legs spread slightly, a picture of composed control.

Your breath hitched as you adjusted your position, pressing your clothed mound against the soft mattress beneath you, seeking any kind of friction to alleviate the growing ache between your legs. His gaze was doing things to you that the camera never could, igniting a need that made your body hum.

“‘You seem a little distracted tonight, Bunny,’” you read aloud with a pout, trying to brush off the comment as casually as possible. “Oh, I’m sorry, loves. My professor has been stressing me out. So much work to do after this stream, you wouldn’t believe it.” You added a playful whine, letting your bottom lip jut out in a pout, but the sudden stillness from behind the camera made your stomach twist.

Then you saw it.

“‘Oh, does Miss Bunny have a crush on her professor? We all heard you last night~’”

Your eyes widened, the heat rushing to your face as if you had been caught in the act. For a split second, you froze, unable to tear your gaze from the message, and you heard the faintest sound of movement behind you—a soft exhale from Alhaitham, his presence suddenly heavier in the room.

You quickly tried to recover, laughing it off with a nervous giggle, your voice a pitch higher than usual. “You all have such vivid imaginations,” you murmured, your cheeks burning.

But then another comment caught your eye:

“‘Why don’t you show us how much you like your professor, Bunny? Touch yourself while thinking about him.’”

The suggestion made your breath catch, your immediate instinct to decline, to change the subject and move on. But as you glanced back at Alhaitham, his eyes locked with yours, an idea sparked.

The thought of teasing him, of showing him how much power you could wield even in this vulnerable setting, made your pulse quicken. If he wanted to act unaffected, so composed, you would test that resolve.

“Hmm,” you murmured, your lips curving into a slow, sultry smile. “You want me to do that? To think about my professor while I…”

You trailed off, letting your fingers trail teasingly along your thigh, drawing the movement out for maximum effect. Your eyes flicked back to Alhaitham, whose expression remained stoic, though the sharpness in his gaze betrayed the tension simmering beneath his calm façade.

“Well,” you continued, your tone low and seductive, “maybe I’ll indulge you just this once…”

Leaning back slightly, you trailed a finger along your collarbone, letting the soft material of your lingerie shift just enough to tease without revealing too much. The chat erupted with responses, flooding your screen with suggestions and desires.

“Well, loves,” you purred, your voice like velvet, “what do you want me to do tonight? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

The messages came in fast, some playful, others downright filthy. You skimmed through them, your lips curving into a coy smile.

“‘Touch yourself, Bunny,’” you read aloud, letting a breathy chuckle escape. “‘Let us see how much you’re craving.’”

Your fingers drifted down to the sheer fabric covering your thighs, tracing slow, deliberate circles as you played up the anticipation. You were already soaked, your arousal pooling and seeping through the delicate garment. The cool air against your heated skin only heightened your awareness of just how wet you were.

“All for you,” you whispered, letting your voice dip lower, your hand brushing over the sensitive spot between your legs. The friction made you gasp softly, the sound slipping out before you could stop it.

Behind the camera, Alhaitham shifted. The faintest creak of the chair reached your ears, and you dared to glance at him. His aquamarine eyes were darkened, a storm of emotions swirling within them—desire, tension, and something almost primal. His jaw was clenched, the muscles there tightening as he watched you.

The lighting cast soft shadows on his face, emphasising the sharp angles of his cheekbones and jawline. His hair looked slightly tousled, strands falling over his forehead, catching the dim glow of the room. His shirt clung to his chest, outlining the firm lines of his muscles, and his slacks were taut, leaving little to the imagination as his thighs tensed.

Your gazes locked, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. You dragged your bottom lip between your teeth, your fingers dipping lower, pressing against the damp fabric as a soft moan escaped your lips. His stare never wavered, and you could see the subtle movement of his throat as he swallowed hard, his restraint slipping.

The chat buzzed with excitement, and you picked out another comment, your voice breathless as you read: “‘Roleplay for us, Bunny. Pretend he’s watching you.’”

You hesitated for a moment, the suggestion sparking a wicked idea. Adjusting yourself on the bed, you let your legs part slightly, giving the camera—and Alhaitham—a better view.

“Are you watching, sir?” you murmured, your tone dripping with seduction. “Do you see how much I need you?”

The words hung in the air, and you didn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. His chest rose and fell with measured breaths, but his eyes betrayed him, darkened and smouldering as they raked over your every movement.

You pushed the fabric aside slightly, your slick arousal glistening in the low light, and ran your fingers along your folds, teasing yourself as a louder moan slipped free. The sound seemed to snap something in him; his posture stiffened, and his jaw tightened as though he was fighting an internal battle.

Your eyes darted back to his lap, noticing the unmistakable strain in his slacks. His arousal was evident, and the knowledge sent a rush of heat through you. You locked eyes with him again, your gaze challenging, daring him to do something as you pushed the boundaries further.

“Would you punish me for being such a tease, Professor?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly from the sensations coursing through you but still carrying that edge of defiance. “Or would you finally give me what I’ve been craving?”

Your eyes darted to Alhaitham as he pulled out his phone, his expression composed and unreadable. Despite his calm demeanour, the air around him was electric, heavy with an unspoken tension. You shifted slightly, feeling the thin fabric of your lingerie press against your damp skin as you adjusted yourself on the bed. His sharp teal eyes caught yours briefly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there—a knowing look that made your stomach twist deliciously with anticipation.

Moments later, the familiar notification chimed, signalling that User1102 had joined your stream. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at the comment section, his name boldly displayed among the sea of usernames.

"Ease a finger in for professor. [$100]"

The boldness of the request made your breath hitch. Your gaze snapped back to Alhaitham, who was leaning casually against the chair, his phone resting in his hand as if he hadn’t just typed out that audacious message. His eyes glimmered with mischief, a subtle but undeniable challenge in their depths.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, as the realisation settled in. He’s User1102. He’s been watching you consistently all this time. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t stop the soft groan that slipped from your lips.

Swallowing your nerves, you decided to play along, lifting your gaze back to the camera with a coy smile. “Seems like someone has a thing for professors,” you purred, your voice dripping with seduction. Your fingers trailed down your body, grazing over the delicate lace of your garment before slipping between your thighs.

Your touch met your slick folds through the sheer fabric, and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching slightly as you pressed against yourself. “Anything for my viewers,” you whispered, your tone teasing, though your eyes flicked to Alhaitham, whose stare had darkened considerably.

His jaw clenched, and the faint smirk on his lips widened just enough to reveal his amusement. His sharp eyes burned into you, following every movement of your hands with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

The next comment appeared, and you felt your heart race.

"Add another finger. [$100]"

You hesitated, your breath catching as your thighs instinctively clenched together. The sheer audacity of the request made you feel vulnerable, yet you couldn’t ignore the thrill coursing through you. Slowly, you glanced at Alhaitham again.

He didn’t say a word, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. His composure was maddening, but the way his Adam's apple bobbed ever so slightly as he swallowed betrayed his growing tension. His knuckles were white as he gripped his phone, his slacks tight across his thighs, leaving little to the imagination.

A wicked idea formed in your mind. If he wanted to play this game, you were more than willing to raise the stakes. Sliding your hand beneath the fabric, your fingers dipped into your dripping core, and you let out a soft moan, the sound raw and unrestrained.

“Just for you… professor,” you murmured breathlessly, your voice laced with feigned innocence as your gaze locked with his. The word rolled off your tongue with deliberate seduction, and the effect was immediate.

Alhaitham’s gaze darkened further, his chest rising and falling as he fought to maintain control. The faint smirk was gone now, replaced by a hunger that made your stomach flip. He shifted slightly in his chair, his hand running over his thigh as if to steady himself, but you didn’t miss the way his pants strained against the evidence of his arousal.

The power shift was intoxicating, and as you moved your fingers within yourself, you felt an overwhelming desire to push him even further.

Your breath hitched as another comment from User1102 appeared on the screen, the message short but dripping with sensual command:

"Faster, bunny. Let me hear how much you want me."

The words sent a jolt straight to your core, your body shivering with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Alhaitham. His teal gaze pierced through you like a flame, sharp and consuming. His composure was cracking—his jaw tight, his hand gripping the edge of the chair as though it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Your fingers moved faster, the wet sounds filling the air as you threw your head back, unable to stop the stream of moans spilling from your lips. “P-Professor,” you whimpered, the word tumbling out as a sinful plea, each syllable heavy with desperation. You didn’t even care if it reached his ears; it was as if the need to push him further, to feel his eyes devour you, overrode everything else.

You blurted shameless phrases, the heat of the moment stripping you of all restraint. “So tight… so wet for you,” you babbled, voice breathless and trembling. “You feel so good… I—I need you...” Your voice hitched again, a crescendo of need, and you dared a glance at him.

Alhaitham’s face betrayed him now, the tension in his slacks impossible to miss. His chest rose and fell heavily, his usually stoic expression cracked open by the intensity of his gaze. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. The flicker of a vein on his temple spoke volumes about his struggle to remain in control.

The sight of him—so composed yet barely holding back—drove you over the edge. Your fingers moved with wild abandon, pressing deep, hitting the perfect spot as you gasped and cried out. Pleasure exploded within you, a wave so intense that it left you trembling, your juices spilling over your fingers and soaking the sheer fabric. Your hips bucked helplessly against your own touch, seeking more even as your body spasmed with the force of your orgasm.

“Ah… haith—” you moaned brokenly, his name almost slipping past your lips in a haze of pleasure. Your vision blurred, your breaths coming in short, frantic pants as you slumped forward, utterly spent.

Even as the aftershocks rippled through you, your eyes found him again. He hadn’t moved from his seat, but his grip on the armrest was iron-tight, his knuckles white. His teal eyes burned into yours, fierce and unyielding, the dim lighting casting sharp shadows over his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw. His shirt clung to his chest and shoulders, stretched taut across the muscles you’d memorised in the heat of that unforgettable night.

You couldn’t breathe under the weight of his gaze, its intensity leaving you feeling both exposed and desired in equal measure. Your body still tingled, warmth pooling low in your belly as you realised the effect you’d had on him. Dizzy and dazed, your lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

Alhaitham’s jaw tightened, and he shifted in his seat, his gaze still locked on you like you were the only thing in the room. The air between you was thick, electric, and filled with an unspoken tension that neither of you could deny.

He had done this to you—undone you completely with just a few typed words and the sheer force of his presence. And as you sat there, still catching your breath, you realised you were utterly and irrevocably at his mercy.

Your eyes lingered on the camera for a moment, chest still heaving as you tried to collect yourself. The wetness on your fingers glistened in the dim light, and a bold idea formed in your hazy mind. Slowly, deliberately, your gaze shifted to Alhaitham, his teal eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race anew.

Without breaking eye contact, you brought your fingers to your lips, parting them slightly. Your tongue flicked out, delicate and teasing, before you slowly sucked your fingers clean. The action was languid, sensual, your lips curling slightly as you tasted yourself, never letting go of his piercing gaze.

Alhaitham’s reaction was visceral. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, his usually steady composure visibly faltering. His eyes darkened, the teal deepening like a stormy sea, as his jaw tightened, and his Adam’s apple bobbed in a hard swallow. He gripped the armrests of the chair, his knuckles turning white, as though the simple action might tether him to the last shreds of his control.

Heat rolled off him in waves, and for the first time, you felt like you had the upper hand.

You pulled your fingers away with a soft pop, licking your lips before flashing a sweet, playful smile at the camera. "Well, that’s all for tonight, my lovelies,” you purred, your tone coy but tinged with lingering arousal. “I have so much work to finish, or my professor will have my ass—and not in the fun way.”

A soft giggle escaped you as you leaned forward, turning the camera off with a final wave. The screen went dark, and the room was silent except for the sound of your uneven breathing.

When you turned back, the weight of the moment hit you like a tidal wave. Alhaitham was still seated, his posture stiff, but his eyes… they burned. The lust in his gaze was undeniable, an unspoken fire that filled the room, making it hard to breathe.

You were still panting, your body warm and buzzing from the performance and his unrelenting attention. The charged silence between you stretched, the air thick with unspoken tension and undeniable want.

Alhaitham didn’t speak immediately, but his eyes roamed over you, drinking in every inch of your flushed skin, every rise and fall of your chest. His expression was unreadable, but the way his gaze lingered on your lips, your trembling thighs, and the evidence of your pleasure told you everything you needed to know.

Alhaitham rose from the chair, his every step deliberate and commanding, his piercing teal eyes never leaving yours. Your breath hitched as he made his way to the bed, his presence suffocating in the most intoxicating way. Sitting on your knees, you felt exposed, your sheer garment clinging to your body, your peaked nipples and damp thighs betraying the desire coursing through you.

He stopped at the edge of the bed, letting one knee sink into the mattress, the slight dip drawing him closer to you. His hand reached out, firm and purposeful, tangling in your hair and cradling the back of your head. His touch was steady, yet it made butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings frenzied and wild.

His face was so close, his warm breath brushing against your lips as he hovered, teasing, his intense gaze boring into yours. Every fibre of your being screamed for him to close the gap, to claim you. But still, he hesitated, his deep voice soft but commanding as he asked, “Are you sure?”

The care in his tone, the way he sought your consent even after all the lines you’d crossed together, made your heart swell and your throat tighten. You nodded, unable to find words, the lump of emotion and desire making it impossible.

That was all the confirmation he needed. His lips descended onto yours, warm and soft yet firm with purpose. They moved against yours with a deliberate slowness, coaxing you to match his rhythm. They felt like velvet, smooth and intoxicating, igniting sparks where they touched. He nipped lightly at your bottom lip, and the sharpness sent a shiver down your spine, your lips parting instinctively for him.

His tongue slid into your mouth, warm and wet, exploring with a slow dominance that made you whimper. The kiss deepened, your moans muffled against his lips as his other hand, large and steady, began to trail lightly down your stomach. The touch was featherlight but deliberate, leaving a path of tingling heat in its wake.

When his fingers pressed against your sensitive clit, your entire body jolted, a gasp slipping from your lips into his mouth. The pressure was just right, his movements slow and teasing, and you felt yourself melting under his touch, your body trembling as he controlled the pace. His lips never left yours, his kiss demanding and consuming, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Alhaitham’s kisses began to trail downward, leaving a scorching path along your neck, each press of his lips making you arch into him. His hands were firm as they guided you to the edge of the bed, your legs already trembling in anticipation. He pulled away briefly, his eyes dark with intent, before stepping off the bed and kneeling in front of you.

The sight of him there—on his knees, between your parted thighs, his powerful frame so reverent yet commanding—sent a surge of heat through your body. His hands slid up your thighs, steady and warm, and he pried them further apart with gentle determination. The cool air kissed your damp core through the sheer fabric of your underwear, heightening the sensitivity already coursing through you.

Alhaitham’s teal eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze stole the breath from your lungs. His hands squeezed the plush of your hips as he leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your wet, clothed centre. A broken moan slipped from your parted lips at the intimate contact, and your thighs trembled in his grasp.

He repeated the motion, the warmth of his lips against the soaked fabric sending jolts of pleasure through you. Then, with a deliberate slowness that was maddening, he pressed his tongue flat against your clothed slit, the pressure making your body jolt and a louder moan escape you.

His hands gripped your hips firmly as he tugged at the delicate strings of your underwear, letting them snap gently against your skin. The sharp sting mingled with your heightened sensitivity, and you cried out, the sound raw and needy. He did it again, smirking faintly at the way you gasped and squirmed beneath his touch, your body utterly at his mercy.

Finally, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid the garment down, his movements slow and deliberate as though savouring every moment. The cool air brushed against your bare skin, and the scent of your arousal hit him, making his cock throb painfully in his slacks.

He paused for a moment, staring at you as though mesmerized, his gaze heavy with lust and hunger. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky, the words sending a shiver straight to your core.

Alhaitham’s fingers gripped tightly at the plush of your thighs, holding you steady as he leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from your glistening core. The heat of his breath ghosted over your slick folds, sending an involuntary shiver through your body. The anticipation alone had your chest rising and falling rapidly, your breaths shallow and uneven.

Then, his lips pressed gently against your slit, the softness of the touch contrasting with the desperate ache building inside you. A hitched moan spilled from your lips, your head tilting back as the sensation coursed through you. His tongue followed, parting your folds and sweeping a slow, deliberate path up your slit. The motion was unhurried yet thorough, his tongue mapping every inch of you as though savouring every taste.

When he reached your clit, he paused, his lips hovering over the sensitive nub. The first kiss he placed there was featherlight, a teasing brush of warmth that had your body arching towards him. Then, without warning, he sucked, the pressure sending a wave of electric pleasure crashing through you. A cry tore from your throat, raw and uncontrolled, as your toes curled and your thighs instinctively clamped around his head.

Alhaitham didn’t falter. His large hands slid to your thighs, prying them apart effortlessly, his strength leaving you utterly at his mercy. His tongue traced a path back down your slit, the wet muscle flicking and teasing before it dipped lower to circle your puckering entrance. He hesitated just long enough to have your body trembling in anticipation, and then he pressed his tongue against you, teasingly shallow at first before thrusting it deeper.

The sensation was maddening, his tongue delving into you with an intensity that had your thighs shaking around his head. Your hands, braced against the bed, gave out under the onslaught of pleasure, and you collapsed back against the mattress. Alhaitham followed the shift in your position, one hand firm against your thigh to keep your legs open as his other hand steadied your hips.

Your foot scraped against his back as your body writhed beneath him, your senses overwhelmed by the relentless rhythm of his tongue. The wet sounds of his mouth, the faint scrape of his stubble against your sensitive skin, and the way he held you firmly in place made it impossible to think of anything but him.

He groaned low in his throat, the vibrations resonating through your core as he thrust his tongue deeper, as if determined to consume every bit of you. Your vision blurred as your pleasure climbed higher, white-hot heat building low in your abdomen and spreading like fire through your veins.

Your world narrowed to the sensation of him—his mouth, his hands, his sheer presence consuming you entirely. You were weightless, lost, your body trembling as he pushed you closer to the edge with every stroke of his tongue.

Alhaitham’s eyes met yours, piercing and unwavering, a molten shade of teal that seemed to burn with both intensity and control. His gaze locked onto you as if he was reading every shudder, every tremor of your body. It was impossible to look away, even as you felt the warmth of his tongue tracing along your folds, his lips parting just enough to press firmly against your dripping entrance.

Your breath hitched as his tongue pressed into you, a deep, deliberate stroke that made your thighs tremble against his strong grip. The world seemed to narrow, every sensation amplifying as his tongue worked with precision and purpose. Then, without warning, he thrust his tongue deeper, and your body jolted as a powerful surge of pleasure overcame you.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as your body betrayed you, the overwhelming pleasure forcing you to release. Warm liquid gushed from you in uncontrollable pulses, your body trembling violently as the wave of ecstasy crashed over you. The sound of it—wet and primal—filled the room, mingling with your laboured moans and the soft groans Alhaitham made as he held you steady.

Mortification crept in as the haze of pleasure started to lift, your cheeks flushing as you realised what had happened. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, trying to push away, but Alhaitham’s grip only tightened. His firm hands kept your hips pinned against the edge of the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Don’t,” he murmured against your skin, his deep voice vibrating through you. His lips were still pressed to you, his tongue sliding out to lap at the evidence of your release with slow, deliberate strokes. The way his mouth moved against you sent another ripple of pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp and shudder.

Alhaitham didn’t falter, his tongue continuing its ministrations as if he was savouring every drop. His eyes, now dark and hooded, bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. You couldn’t look away, mesmerised by the sight of him—so composed, yet so utterly consumed by you.

Your body writhed beneath his touch; every nerve alight as he guided you through the aftershocks of your high. His hands caressed your trembling thighs, grounding you even as his mouth refused to let you go. There was no judgement in his gaze, no hesitation—only raw desire and a determination to coax every ounce of pleasure from you.

When the tremors finally subsided, and your breathing slowed, Alhaitham pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips curved in a faint smirk. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending a shiver down your spine.

Alhaitham leaned in, his breath hot against your skin as he moved to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. His lips pressed firmly there, the warmth of his mouth followed by a teasing flick of his tongue that made your body tense with anticipation. When his teeth grazed your skin, your breath hitched, and then he bit down softly, sucking deeply to leave a mark. The sensation was a delicious mix of sharp and soothing as he licked over the spot, his tongue easing the sting while his lips claimed the area.

"Couldn’t resist," he murmured, his voice a low growl. His teal eyes lifted to meet yours, dark with desire and satisfaction as he admired the mark he’d left behind. "You look even more tempting with my marks on you."

Before you could respond, he began trailing kisses up your body, his lips brushing softly over your stomach, each press of his mouth sending sparks along your skin. His hands slid beneath you, lifting you slightly as he pushed you higher onto the bed, his strength making you feel light in his hold.

Alhaitham's hands slid up your sides, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of your bra. His teal eyes, darkened with hunger, met yours as he hooked a finger under the strap and tugged it down your shoulder with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent as his other hand reached behind you to unhook the clasp. The tension snapped with a soft click, and the fabric fell loose, barely clinging to your chest.

With a practiced ease, he slipped the bra off and tossed it aside, his gaze immediately dropping to your bare skin. A soft groan escaped him as he took in the sight.

His warm hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, the gentle touch drawing a sharp gasp from you. He leaned in, his lips hovering just above your skin. “Been wanting to see you like this, beneath me.” he whispered before he dipped his head and captured your nipple in his mouth, his tongue teasing the sensitive peak as his hands squeezed you firmly.

As he moved, he let his lips linger beneath the swell of your breast, the tender skin there making you shiver under his touch. He kissed deeply, the heat of his mouth igniting a new wave of desire, before he sucked hard, pulling another moan from your lips as he left another hickey, darker and more prominent than the last.

"Couldn’t stop thinking about this," Alhaitham confessed against your skin, his voice gravelly and filled with hunger. "How soft you’d feel, how perfect you’d taste."

His mouth moved higher, capturing your nipple in a heated kiss. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud before his lips closed over it, sucking gently at first, then harder, drawing gasps and whimpers from you. His other hand moved to your other breast, his fingers rolling and tugging at your nipple, mirroring the attention his mouth gave.

Your back arched, pressing more of yourself into him, and your fingers tangled in his silver hair, tugging softly. The small pull made his eyes flutter shut, and a soft groan rumbled from his chest. "You’re perfect," he murmured against your skin, his voice muffled but dripping with reverence. "Been wanting to feel you like this, to hear those sounds you make... in person, more real."

His thigh pressed between your legs, the firm, clothed muscle grinding against your slick folds. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp as your hips bucked against him instinctively. "That’s it," he groaned, his voice rough and low. "Let me feel how much you want me. Don’t hold back."

Your hands tightened in his hair as he alternated between teasing flicks of his tongue and firm sucks to your nipple, the combination making your head spin. The weight of his body above you, the heat of his thigh pressing against your sensitive clit, and the way his cock throbbed against your thigh through his slacks—it was overwhelming in the best way.

"Been wondering," he continued, his voice dark and filled with desire, "how you’d taste, how these perfect tits would feel in my hands, in my mouth. Better than I could’ve imagined."

Every word sent shivers through you, heightening your arousal as his thigh moved in slow, deliberate circles against you. The pressure built steadily, and you couldn’t stop the soft, desperate moans escaping you as his lips continued their assault on your breast.

Alhaitham’s lips trailed from your breast to your neck, his movements slow and deliberate as he pressed soft kisses into your skin. Occasionally, he let his teeth graze your flesh, leaving faint marks that bloomed into a symphony of pretty hues upon your neck. His warm breath fanned over the sensitive area, making your pulse quicken.

Your fingers, trembling with both impatience and desire, fumbled at the buttons of his shirt. Between soft whimpers and gasps, you pouted, “Why haven’t you taken this off yet?”

A low chuckle escaped him, deep and resonant, as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your cheek. “Impatient, are we?” he teased, his tone laced with amusement. Without breaking his smouldering eye contact, he reached up and shrugged off his shirt, tossing it aside carelessly.

The sight before you made your breath hitch. His body was a masterpiece—broad shoulders, a sculpted chest with a light dusting of hair, and defined muscles that rippled with every subtle movement. His abs were carved and precise, his V-line disappearing tantalisingly into the waistband of his slacks. Your thighs clenched instinctively, a rush of heat pooling between them as your core fluttered, slick with arousal.

He moved to unbuckle his slacks, the anticipation crackling in the air. He let the fabric fall to the floor, revealing a pair of fitted black boxer briefs that hugged him perfectly, emphasising every detail of his powerful thighs and the prominent bulge straining against the fabric.

When he finally slid the briefs down, your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailed over his defined torso, following the tantalising path of his V-line until they reached his cock. Even though you had seen him earlier, the sight still made your heart race and your body ache with need. The thick, veiny length stood proud, the bulbous tip red and glistening with precum, making it look both imposing and utterly irresistible, you could still feel the shape of it down your throat.

Alhaitham smirked at your reaction, his confidence unshaken as he leaned forward, caging your trembling body beneath his. “You’re staring,” he teased softly before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his firm body pressing against yours, igniting a fire that burned through every nerve in your body.

Your moans spilled into his mouth as Alhaitham deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a passionate, intimate dance. His large hand cupped your breast, kneading it gently but firmly, his thumb brushing teasing circles over your hardened nipple. The kiss broke with a soft gasp, a delicate string of saliva connecting your swollen lips.

Your eyes, wide and dazed, gazed up at him with such tenderness and desire that it made his chest tighten. You leaned forward, trailing featherlight kisses along the strong column of his neck, your lips brushing against his pulse point before moving to the space between his shoulder and neck. Each touch sent tremors through his body, and a low groan escaped his throat, rumbling deep and primal.

Your hands wandered down his torso, fingers ghosting over his broad chest and rippling abs, your touch leaving a blazing trail of heat in its wake. His muscles tensed and flexed beneath your palms, responding to your exploration. When your fingers brushed over his nipples, his breath hitched, and his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment, a low hum of pleasure vibrating in his chest.

Your hands slid further down, encircling his back as you pulled him closer, your bare bodies pressing together with electrifying intimacy. The motion caused the tip of his cock to brush against your slick folds, the velvety warmth of your wetness immediately wrapping around him. His thick length nestled perfectly against your clit, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through both of you.

Alhaitham released a choked moan, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as the sensation of your heat overwhelmed him. His hips instinctively shifted, grinding ever so slightly against you, the pressure intensifying the ache between your thighs. “You’re… dangerous,” he murmured, his voice husky and strained, his self-control hanging by a thread.

You trembled beneath him, the intimate contact sending waves of heat cascading through your body. Your lips parted to speak, but all that came out was a soft, needy whimper as your bodies continued to tease and tempt one another in this excruciatingly sweet agony.

His cock slid against you, thick and hot, slipping through the wet mess between your thighs. Every movement sent sparks up your spine, but he was holding back—trembling with restraint, breath unsteady, eyes locked on where your bodies met.

“Wait,” he muttered, voice breaking like a man on the edge. “I don’t have anything—no condom—” You reached for him, cupping his jaw, your thumb brushing the edge of his lower lip. “It’s okay,” you breathed. “I’m on the pill.”

His gaze snapped to yours, like your words had cracked something wide open in him. You felt him shudder, a sound dragging out of his chest that was half-relief, half hunger. The thought of spilling his warm cum inside you, marking you made his body shudder and his gaze intense on you.

“I need to be inside you,” he whispered—like it hurt to admit. “I need to feel you. Just you.”

His larg hands squeezed your hips in reassurance, his one hand holding your hip in place while his other guided his leaking, throbbing cock to align with your fluttering hole, the head of his cock nudged into your warm, hole, tempting him to shove his entire cock into your warm, sticky cunt- he restrained himself, opting to enter you gently, so that he could memerize the feeling of entering your pussy for the first time. He was splitting you open with reverence and desperation in equal measure, your breath hitched as he filled you, inch by aching inch, the stretch stealing every thought from your mind. Your cunt squeezing him tightly, you could feel his precum leaking into you as your arms cling onto him tightly and he finally bottomed into you, he was in you till the hilt as you moaned from the feeling of thick cock.

Your bodies are fully joined, you felt completely full- you could feel every twitch and throb of his cock, your cunt fluttering around him.

“God—” he choked. “You feel like you were made for me.” You clung to him, legs wrapping around his hips, arms around his shoulders, anchoring him. Anchoring you.

He started to move. Not gentle, not measured—but with purpose. With need. His hips met yours in steady, grounding thrusts, every motion thick with tension, each one deeper than the last. His cock coming till the tip just for him to slam into you, hard. Your bodies moved in tandem, like waves finding the shore after a long storm.

His lips brushed your temple, your cheek, your mouth—fevered kisses, half-formed words lost in the spaces between. Your moans melted into his sighs; gasps tangled in the hush of skin meeting skin.

And then, his voice—low, hoarse, barely human.

 “I keep thinking about it. How I’m inside you. Raw. How I can come in you, and there’s nothing stopping it. Just you—taking it. Letting me give you everything.”

You whimpered, your body clenching around him, answering a call neither of you could speak aloud. You drag your nails along his back, his rhythm faltered, his control slipping. As he holds your hips tightly, the sound of your juices mixing together and skin slapping against each other echoed throughout the room tangling with his groans and your moans.

“I want to fill you,” he groaned, his turquoise eyes staring deeply into yours, his forehead pressed against yours as his breath brushed against your swollen lips. “Want to stay buried in you and never leave. Want to see my cum leaking out when I’m done.” He says, this making your toes curl as he hits a certain spot in you causing a loud moan to leave from your parted lips, your back arching off the bed, your pert nipples pressing into his chest. He noticed this and started thrusting harder in that spot watching as you become a babbling mess, drool slipping out from your mouth, your face flashed red.

“professor, professor-” you moaned out in eustacy, Alhaitham groaned when you had said that his mouth trailing kisses from cheek to your neck as he licks a spot before biting down hard on your neck and slamming hard into your g-spot.

The tension in your tummy snapped, your eyes widening as they roll back, the word’ professor’ tumbling out of your mouth numerous times as your orgasm stole your breath, took your voice, dragged you into light. You shattered, clutching him tight, your body gripping him like you never wanted to let go. Alhaitham groaned as your warm wetness that made your hole sticky, your cum messing his pelvis as he thrusted faster into you as you laid beneath him in a dazed state still murmuring professor – fucked out.

“I’m going to give you every single drop of my cum, mark your insides white with my cum” he grabs a fist full of your, his eyes staring into yours flickering from your eyes to your lips and to the mess between the two of you as he moans, his teeth now nipping at your ear as you squeezed around him and moaned. “ be a good girl and let your professor cum in you ? yeah?” you cried out a yes as he started to thrust into you extremely fast, with a ragged gasp, burying himself deep, hips pressed flush as he comes to a still -  he spilled inside you. Hot, pulsing, endlessly into your womb.

His skin damp with sweat as your mouth hung open wide, thick tears rolling down your cheeks as you squeezed him tightly, the warm feeling of his cum entering you made your toes curl as another orgasm ripped through your spent pussy, your cries echoing throughout the room as you clung to him.

His breath was still ragged as he came down from his high, body trembling above yours. But even with his release still warm inside you, even with your walls fluttering in the aftermath, he couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not when your body clung to him so sweetly, when your warmth still pulsed around his softening cock like it didn’t want to let him go.

He needed you to cum again on his cock.

He kissed you—slow, tender kisses dragged across your lips, your jaw, your temple—as if to soothe the overstimulation, to ground you again. But you whimpered softly against his mouth, hips twitching as he began to roll them forward again, lazily at first, letting himself harden once more inside you.

“Alhaitham,” you breathed, voice trembling. “I’m… I’m sensitive.”

“I know,” he whispered, brushing your hair back as he peppered kisses along your cheek. “I know, sweet girl. Just one more time. Let me.” His hands slid down to your hips, strong and sure as he held you in place. He moved with more control now, patient and hungry all at once, grinding slowly into your oversensitive core until you whimpered beneath him, thighs quivering from the overstimulation.

Then, without a word, he withdrew—only to flip you gently onto your stomach.

The shift made your breath hitch, your cheek pressing into the soft sheets as he guided you up on all fours with a steady hand on your lower back. He knelt behind you, eyes devouring the slick trail out of your puffy cunt, his own release trickling from between your thighs. Your ass perfectly perched in front of him, your cunt twitching as he groaned at the sight.

“Look at this mess,” he murmured, thumbing at your cunt, watching it flutter around nothing. “And you’re still so wet.”

You whimpered, your hips jerking as he lined himself up again, and this time, he pushed in slowly from behind, dragging every thick inch along your stretched walls. The new angle made your arms tremble—so deep it stole the air from your lungs.

Your fingers clenched the sheets. He was already buried to the hilt, already overwhelming. But then his grip on your hips tightened—and he began to move.

Harder this time.

His thighs smacked against yours, his rhythm relentless, fucking into you with deep, purposeful thrusts that had you gasping with every stroke. You collapsed forward onto your elbows, unable to hold yourself up as your body gave out from the intensity. But he followed—his chest pressed along your back, his arms sliding around you to cage you in, to keep you still as he pounded into you from behind.

Your face was turned into the mattress, mouth open in a silent moan as his cock slid in and out of your soaked cunt with a filthy, wet sound. You were overstimulated, trembling, but you couldn’t stop—couldn’t stop the way your hips arched back into his, the way you sobbed his name between incoherent blabbering gasps.

“Please—Alhaitham, it’s—too much—ah—” your voice broke into a cry, tears prickling in your eyes from the sheer intensity of it.

But he kissed your shoulder, groaning as your walls clenched tight around him again.

“I know, baby. I know. Just a little more, be a good girl for your professor” he rasped into your skin, voice almost reverent. “You’re taking me so well. So, fucking good for me.”

You were losing yourself. His cock rubbed against every sweet spot inside you, over and over, making your vision blur, your thoughts dissolve. All you could do was cry out his name, your hands fisting the sheets as he fucked you through the overwhelming pleasure, chasing another release you hadn’t even realized you were building toward.

And through it all, he held you tight—pressed flush to your back, fucking you deep and hard like he wanted to leave a part of himself inside you forever.

Your body trembled beneath him, muscles taut and overstimulated, but Alhaitham wasn’t slowing down. His thrusts had grown rougher, deeper guided by instinct, by the primal need to leave every inch of himself inside you. You were utterly at his mercy, your moans broken and high-pitched, caught somewhere between pleasure and desperation.

Your walls clenched wildly around him, fluttering with every thick drag of his cock, and he could feel it—how close you were, how your body was winding tighter and tighter, teetering on the edge of something overwhelming.

He leaned forward, breath hot against your neck as he groaned, “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” You could only whimper in response, voice caught in your throat, your mind hazy from the sheer stimulation.

“Fuck—this pussy was made for me,” he growled low in your ear. “So tight, so warm.  Gonna milk every drop out of me, aren’t you?” His hand slipped down your stomach, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight, perfect circles in rhythm with his thrusts. The touch sent you over—your body locked up, back arching, and a broken, desperate cry tore from your throat as your orgasm hit you like a crashing wave. You spasmed around him, pulsing so hard that it nearly forced him out of you, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“Ah—fuck,” he gasped, gritting his teeth as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Just like that, miss bunny… just like that.” With one last, deep thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came—hot and thick and endless. His cock throbbed as he spilled into you, every drop of his cum pouring into your twitching, fluttering cunt. He groaned low in his throat, hips grinding against your ass, as if he could push it deeper, keep it there inside you forever.

He stayed there for a moment, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against your back. Then, slowly, he pulled out—and watched. His cum spilled from your swollen pussy in slow, glistening rivulets, and the sight nearly made him hard again. He watched the way you clenched and shuddered, as if trying to hold it in, and a deep, primal satisfaction flared in his chest.

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbing at your folds, watching his seed drip from you. “You look so good like this. Stuffed full of me.”  A darker thought crossed his mind—how beautiful you’d look covered in his cum, painted in thick streaks across your back, your thighs, your pretty lips. But that was for another time. Another night.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed you—slow, deep, reverent. His tongue brushed against yours, warm and gentle now, the urgency faded into something deeper. Something tender. His fingers stroked your sides, tracing every inch of you like he never wanted to forget the feel.

When he pulled back, your lips were red, kissed raw, your eyes still hazy.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, brushing your hair back, lips brushing your temple. “Every last inch of you.” And in that moment, with his warmth still inside you and his mouth still lingering against your skin, it felt like the truth.

The room still pulsed with the aftermath of what you’d shared, but Alhaitham was already moving, already thinking of you. He rose without a word, padded across the room, and returned with a warm cloth again. You barely flinched when it touched between your thighs—his hands were slow, mindful, reverent, and his eyes never left your face.

He kissed the inside of your knee once he was done, and then whispered, “Come on. Let me take care of you.” The bathroom light was dim, the tub already filling when you followed him in. He tested the temperature with his hand, then helped you in first, easing you down into the steaming water with that same quiet patience. The warmth cradled your sore muscles, the scent of soap and something faintly floral curling in the air.

Then he joined you—settling in behind, arms encircling your waist, his chest firm and warm against your back. Your head found his shoulder without thought. His cheek rested against your temple.

For a long while, you didn’t speak. The only sounds were the gentle ripple of water and the echo of your slowed breathing. Eventually, his fingers found yours beneath the surface, weaving them together.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he murmured into your hair.

You smiled, lips curving against his skin. “And yet… I don’t regret a single part of it.”

He was quiet again, but his arms tightened around you just a little, like he’d needed to hear that more than he realized.

“You feel… real,” he finally said. “Not just a face on a screen. Not just my student. You’re… more.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him. His eyes were soft now, stripped of all his usual restraint. You reached up to brush your fingers along his jaw.

“And you’re not just my favourite viewer anymore.”

That earned a rare smile, and he leaned down to kiss you—slow and unhurried, like there was no longer any need to rush.

When he pulled back, your head found his chest again, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. The water sloshed gently around you, and the world felt far away.

For tonight, there was nothing else. Just the warmth of his arms, the weight of something unspoken settling between you both, and the comfort of finally being seen—not through a screen, but through the eyes of someone who wanted to know you, every part of you.

And maybe that was enough. Or maybe it was just the beginning.

-Usagii’s Note

OH. MY. GOD. It’s DONE. This fic has been sitting on my chest like a whole demon for months, and now I can finally breathe. Writing this was a journey—messy, chaotic, a little unhinged—but I’m so proud of how it turned out in the end.

Huge love to everyone who read, liked, commented, screamed, or just quietly supported me through this fic. You’re the real MVPs.

This is the final chapter of Blurred lines - Professor Alhaitham x Cam Girl Reader. We’re closing the door, turning off the camera, and moving on. I’m not coming back to this one, so if you’ve been along for the ride, THANK YOU. Truly.

But don’t worry—I’m not disappearing. My next work? Let’s just say it’s Alhaitham x bunny girl reader, enemies-to- friends- lovers with reader getting her heat and she has to share a room with haitham (one bed trope, my favv. Does anyone else like it ? hehehehe).

Anyways, I write smut, fluff, and the occasional brainrot, so check out my other works if you’re in the mood for more chaos.

Byeeee~

OH ALSO I KNOW HE BE TIPPING YOU SO DAMN HIGH OKAY ?! I DONT CARE AINT NO WAY IMMA PUT THERE HE TIPPED YOU 10$ i mean gurl you are so hawt you deserve billions JHWJHEJKDW okay i shall leave fr

⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

part 1

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 5 parts)

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾... this is from my ao3, so enjoy <3

4.6k words

usagiibun2024🐇

Your half-open laptop sat forgotten on the couch, glowing with the low hum of an unfinished series you had tried to binge the night before. Eyes half-closed, you reached for your phone, fumbling to check the time.

8:30 a.m.

“Shit!”

You shot out of bed, tripping over the tangled sheets, heart pounding with the cold rush of adrenaline that only comes from missing something important. Today wasn’t just any day; it was the first lecture of the semester, and you were running late.

You quickly ran into the bathroom, throwing your clothes off and jumping into the shower. Your heart racing frnatucally as you quickly showered and turned it off almost slipping when you got out. The mirror offered you little comfort after you had tied your hair up messily, and threw on the first outfit you managed find—a crumpled sweater and jeans—looked less like ‘casual academic chic’ and more like ‘someone's given up.’ Still, it would have to do. You can go for the 'casual academic chic' tomorrow. Grabbing your bag, you bolted out the door, barely locking it behind you.

The world outside was already moving, buzzing with the noise of morning commuters and their routines. Your apartment building—an old, ivy-covered structure crammed between a café and a bookshop—seemed to blend into the city as you jogged down the street. The crisp autumn air clawed at your skin, urging you to move faster as the sounds of traffic and chatter filled the space around you.

The university campus wasn’t far, but today it felt like each step dragged you deeper into a sinking swamp. Your mind still swirled with the fog of sleep, your heart pounding as the towering lecture hall loomed ahead. A relic of academia, the stone building had seen its share of anxious students, no doubt making their way inside just like you. You could practically hear the ghost of every misstep made before you echoing off the ivy-covered walls.

You pushed open the heavy door, wincing as it creaked. The dim hallway was bathed in the dull yellow light of old fixtures, a stark contrast to the loud murmur of conversation from students filtering in. The quiet tap of your shoes on the worn wooden floor seemed deafening to your own ears.

Don’t be too late. Please.

Reaching the door to the lecture hall, you hesitated, already hearing the smooth, unhurried voice of the professor inside. His words were clear, deliberate, and somehow both calm and utterly dismissive. You slipped in quietly, praying no one would notice.

But then that voice, cool and laced with biting sarcasm, pierced through the room like a knife.

" Ah, nothing says commitment like showing up halfway through the lecture. Punctuality is, of course, the mark of true brilliance."

Your heart dropped. The entire class shifted uncomfortably, the air heavy with awkwardness. Your eyes flicked to the front of the room, but the professor hadn’t even glanced at you. His attention remained fixed on the screen, as if your tardiness was barely worth acknowledging beyond his cutting remark.

You ducked your head, praying you could melt into the crowd of students who were all pretending not to notice.

Settling into a seat at the back, you let out a slow breath. Great. First lecture of the semester, and already, you’d made an impression.

Alhaitham stood at the front, illuminated by the projector’s glow, a man who seemed entirely comfortable in the unyielding rigidity of academia. His pale skin stood out against the dark slate walls of the lecture hall, and his gray hair caught the light—silver at the tips with faint turquoise strands peeking through, subtle but noticeable. His eyes, those unnerving turquoise and gold-rimmed orbs, scanned the room without emotion, as if every student were a puzzle to be solved. His presence commanded attention without demanding it; there was an effortless authority about him, cold and unapologetic.

Everyone knew about him—the prodigy with an unrivalled intellect. But it was his pragmatism that made him infamous. He didn't mince words, nor did he soften his criticism. In his mind, academia was a battlefield, and if you weren’t equipped, you’d be left behind. At just 27, he was already regarded as one of the brightest minds in linguistics, with a list of publications and conference talks that read like someone twice his age. The department had celebrated his arrival like a prized acquisition after the sudden retirement of his predecessor.

As the lecture went on, his words became a blur, and your thoughts wandered. You’d heard the stories. Alhaitham had published papers before most people could finish their dissertations. He was already considered a leading figure in linguistics, and he’d barely been teaching for a year.

You looked around, catching glimpses of students furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up. But you… you weren’t even processing his words. You were too busy stewing in your own frustration. He wasn’t just smart—he was smug. His entire demeanor screamed ‘I’m better than you,’ and somehow, that got under your skin.

The worst part? He was brilliant. There was no denying that. The ease with which he unraveled complex theories was almost infuriating. It wasn’t just knowledge; it was a performance of intellect, delivered with such cold precision that it made you feel small.

Your phone buzzed causing your eyes to widen as you quickly looked up towards Professor Alhaitham explaining something from a slide. You slide your phone on your desk as you glanced down briefly.

A request for a private session.

You rolled your eyes, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. The cam sessions weren’t supposed to interfere with your life like this. It was just supposed to be something you did on the side. Something that helped keep the bills paid.

When you’d started, it was out of desperation. You had needed to make money, and quickly. Your mother kicked you out due to a dispute —getting by was a struggle. At first, you had gotten a regular job at a coffee shop. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

Then a friend had suggested camming. At first, you’d been horrified by the idea. Sitting in front of a camera, doing… that? It felt disgusting, degrading. But after months of struggling, you’d caved. What was supposed to be a temporary fix had become part of your routine. Log in, entertain, log off. Now, it was less of a thrill and more of a chore. You hated to admit it, but it paid better than any job you could have found as a student.

Pushing those thoughts aside you tried to pay attention to professor Alhaitham but you ended up doodling inside your book and also ended up writing a grocery list.

Finally, the lights flickered back on as the lecture ended, and Professor Alhaitham’s voice broke the silence once more. "Chapters two through four by next week. We’ll see who’s keeping up."

He snapped his laptop shut, a final punctuation mark to the end of the lecture, and students began packing their bags. You sighed, stuffing your own notes away as you slung your bag over your shoulder, the door creaked open behind you.

“Hey, wait up!” Layla’s voice pierced through your haze.

You turned to see her weaving through the chairs, looking equally disheveled but far less bothered. She caught up to you with an apologetic grin, her messy hair bouncing with each step. “You okay? You looked pretty rattled back there.”

You huffed, running a hand through your own hair. “I was late. Professor Alhaitham made sure everyone knew. God, what a prick.”

Layla snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Oh no. What did he say? I was kind of zoned out”

“Something about ‘dedication’ and ‘showing up halfway through.’ Like he’s never been late to anything in his entire life.”

Layla chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, that guy is an enigma. Alot of people dislike him for the way he behaves, but alot of people are desperate to be in his class.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He’s a genius, obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But it’s more than that. There’s something about him. He doesn’t care what people think, and he never panders. Some people like that kind of honesty.”

"Honesty, my ass. He’s just an asshole."

Layla laughed, nudging your arm. "Maybe, but also I've heard some people have joined his class just because of how hot he is, a bit ridiculous I do say." she says as a yawn escapes past her parted lips, her head gently resting against your shoulder as she tries to fight off fatigue.

You glanced back toward the front of the lecture hall. Alhaitham was still there, gathering his things with calm efficiency, his sharp features illuminated by the faint sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. His movements were deliberate, controlled, like everything in his world followed some intricate set of rules only he understood. You hated how Layla had a point. He was good-looking, in a detached, untouchable kind of way.

You noticed Layla almost falling off to sleep on your shoulder so you gently poked her nose causing her to wake up in shock.

"I think you need to lay off those thesis papers for awhile and get a good sleep" you said to her as she mumbles something and pouts.

You and Layla left the hall, your thoughts drifted again to the complicated web of your life outside these walls. The nights spent streaming, the chat boxes filled with faceless usernames, the anonymous attention that came with your side job. You pushed it to the back of your mind—this wasn’t the time. But still, that strange double life you led lingered like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake.

You slipped back into the comfort of your cluttered apartment, the memory of his sharp words lingered.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, the weight of the day clung to your shoulders. Dropping your bag by the door, you let out a heavy sigh and kicked off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the floor echoing in the quiet space. It had been a long day—longer than you expected.

You shuffled into the kitchen, deciding to fix yourself something simple. Your fridge wasn’t exactly stocked, but you managed to throw together a sandwich, something to take the edge off your hunger. As you ate, your thoughts wandered to your schedule for the evening, how it always followed the same routine, a strange comfort in the predictability of it.

After a quick meal, you headed into the bathroom. The warm water of the shower washed away the lingering stress of the day, soothing your muscles and easing your mind, if only for a little while. You stayed under the spray longer than necessary, letting the steam fill the room as you tried to clear your head.

But in the back of your mind, you knew what was coming. Once the clock hit nine, you would become someone else—someone confident, mysterious, and unattainable.

Toweling off, you took your time getting dressed, slipping into some comfortable clothes for the moment. You still had some work to finish before the night began.

As you sat at your desk, staring at the open notes on your laptop, your mind started drifting again. It wasn’t just the lingering tension from class that tugged at your thoughts. There was the constant reminder of why you were doing all of this in the first place.

Your mum hadn’t spoken to you in months, ever since she cut you off financially. Her voice echoed in your head, that final conversation where she’d made it clear—you were on your own. You weren’t doing things her way, and so she wasn’t going to help you anymore.

It had been hard to accept at first. The distance between you, the harshness of her words. But you had no choice now. You had to make things work, no matter what.

That was why you found yourself here, every night, doing things you never thought you’d do. Because you had to survive. This was the only way to keep your apartment, to stay in college. And you couldn’t afford to fail—not now, not with everything at stake.

Your eyes scrunched as you diverted your attention from those stressful thoughts to your notes, a few minutes past as you scrolled through the pages as the hours passed and the sky outside darkened, you checked the time. 8:45. Almost time.

You stood up, crossing the room to your closet. Opening the door, you rifled through the few pieces hanging there before finding what you were looking for—a delicate baby pink lingerie set. The fabric was soft, a stark contrast to the role you were about to step into.

Changing quickly, you adjusted the straps in front of the mirror, checking yourself from different angles. You pulled your hair up into a neat ponytail, a subtle touch that helped keep the two sides of your life separate. The girl in the mirror was confident, poised, ready to perform.

But it wasn’t quite 9:00 yet.

You walked over to your laptop and started setting up, adjusting the angle of your webcam, ensuring that it captured your body

By the time the platform loaded, it was exactly 9:00. Notifications immediately began popping up on your screen as you entered the chat. Regulars and new subscribers alike greeted you, their excitement palpable.

They asked about your day, how have you been as the night played out. After idle chatter with your subscribers, it was finally time for what they actually wanted to see.

The highest bidder requested you to use your pink dildo vibrator. A small smile graced your lips. "As you wish, master" you murmured, pulling out the vibrator. Your eyes darted to the chat window, scanning for familiar usernames, but a disappointed pout formed as you noticed he hadn't joined yet. 'He didn't join yet,' you thought, your mood dampening. The chat flared up with messages as viewers noticed your sulky expression.

You quickly plastered on a smile, bringing the dildo close to the camera, then to your face, smiling seductively.

"So, what do you want me to do first?" The next few minutes blurred into a haze of overstimulation. The bluetooth vibrator buzzed inside you, your fingers rubbing against your pussy lips as shudders coursed through you.

Your clit trembled with the constant intensity, and your body gleamed with a sheen of sweat. Your baby pink lingerie clung to your body as your hand found your nipple, pinching and playing until you came again.

The viewers paid extra to speed up the device, pushing you further and further.

Eyes fluttering open briefly, you scanned the chats again.

Your heart skipped a beat when a familiar username appeared User1102. Your thighs trembled as the vibrator reached its highest speed, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came, making a mess along your legs and lingerie. Breathing erratic, vision blurred, you were practically limp from the overstimulation.

User1102: Bunny... take a break. The chat was filled with other messages, people tipping for extra time or requesting private sessions. But your attention was glued to his message.

User1102: I'do like a private session.

[User1102 tipped $100!]

A soft smile formed on your lips despite your exhaustion. The other subscribers seemed annoyed, trying to out-tip him, but you already knew your choice.

"I'm super tired right now, so I'm only taking one private session! Thank you, guys, see you next week Tuesday~" You threw in a small finger heart, trying to ignore the love confessions and anger from you ending your live so soon.

After ending the public live stream, your heart raced as you adjusted your hair and lingerie, sending a private request to User1102. The request was accepted, and your body appeared on screen.

You smiled, head tilted slightly. "Hi, what can Ms. Bunny do for you tonight?" you asked, your voice low and sultry, though your heart pounded with nerves. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from racing in your head.

Why do I always get so excited for this particular subscriber? Why does he make my heart race faster and my cheeks flush pink?

The first time User1102 appeared in your live stream, someone had requested you to overstimulate yourself to the point of discomfort. Eyes glazed with tears, you tried to push through the discomfort, but your mind kept wandering. Rent was due, and the $400 being offered was something you couldn’t turn down. But you felt pathetic, disgusted even, for putting yourself through that pain.

That was when User1102 first message caught your attention.

User1102: Stop what you're doing. You're clearly uncomfortable.

The original requester got angry, but then

User1102: tipped $400.

User1102: End the live. I'd like a private session with you.

[User1102 tipped $200]

Your movements had stopped, stunned by the sudden change. The other subscribers were furious, but you nervously smiled and ended the stream. His private session that night had been different from any other. No requests for anything sexual just for you to drink water and change into something comfortable. He'd only stayed for a few minutes to make sure you felt better, then sent a simple message before leaving.

'Don't do things you feel uncomfortable doing.'

You were utterly confused, could the person have been someone who has mistakenly tumbled upon your stream from an ad?

You had'nt expected to see him again, but he came back for the next session. And the one after that. And eventually, you started looking forward to his presence, even if you didn't know what he looked like. --- You let out a soft sigh, your fingers shaking slightly as you adjusted your lingerie on screen.

User1102 message popped up again.

User1102 : are you okay bunny to do something small for me ?

You quickly nod your head eagerly, already ready to do whatever he asked (as long as it wasn't some weird ass kink).

User1102: okay, Bunny, grab the dildo you used earlier.

Your eyes widened slightly at the straightforward request. Hesitantly, you reached for the pink dildo that was still slick from earlier. You toyed with it in your hands for a moment, waiting for his next command.

User1102: Spit on it.

You froze for a second, processing his request. Sure, you'd done things like that before, but it was unexpected from him. Still, you complied.

Leaning forward, you let your saliva drip onto the tip of the dildo.

User1102: Now, Bunny, be a good girl and clean your mess up.

Your pussy throbbed at the words. Slowly, you began sucking at the dildo, cleaning off your spit with your tongue, trailing it down the length of the toy. As you worked, a notification flashed on the screen.

User1102: Play with yourself, Bunny.

Your hand left your breast, fingers finding your clit as you jolted on the bed. The added stimulation forced a moan out of you, louder than you'd intended, but you couldn't stop.

User1102: You're so pretty, making a mess all over.

The tension in your stomach tightened, your vision blurring as you angled your fingers just right. The coil in your stomach snapped, your body was trembling as the final wave of pleasure hit you, vision blurring as you came undone. The clear liquid dripped down your thighs, making a mess of your lingerie and the sheets beneath you. You lay there panting, catching your breath, feeling the heat slowly dissipate from your body.

User1102: You were amazing. Good girl.

Those two words sent another shiver down your spine. Your heart fluttered at the praise, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out of your mouth, genuine and raw: "Anything for you..." Your cheeks flushed red immediately after.

You couldn’t believe you had said that out loud. Your mind was in a haze, the warmth of the afterglow still lingering, but a strange conflict bubbled up inside you.

A small part of you, buried deep down, wanted to scream at yourself for how you felt about this man, a random stranger hidden behind a username. It was foolish to feel like this. A ridiculous crush, on someone who could very well be as old as your father. You closed your eyes for a second, lost in your thoughts, but his next message broke through.

User1102: go clean up, just take it easy when you do so. maybe run a hot shower or bath to relax your muscles. you did really good today.

User1102: Rest now. Goodnight, Bunny.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. There was something so caring, so comforting about how he ended things.

He didn’t push for more, didn’t ask for anything beyond what you were comfortable with.

"Good night" you said sweetly, your eyes widening at the 400$ tip he left as he logs off. At this point you should just do private sessions with the amount of money he spends on you.

As the session ended, the room fell into a heavy silence. The screen of your laptop went dark, leaving you in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You let out a tired sigh, rolling onto your back. It was late, and exhaustion was starting to weigh you down. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but instead, you noticed a notification from your email.

A familiar name caught your eye. Professor Alhaitham. The email had been sent before you even started your session. You clicked it open and skimmed through it, rolling your eyes the moment you saw what it was about: a pop quiz.

"Ugh, that asshole" you muttered under your breath, tossing the phone aside. The last thing you needed was a quiz first thing in the morning. And of course, he just had to schedule it for 8 AM. You groaned in frustration. Now, you'd definitely need a good night's rest.

You’d barely slept the night before, and it showed. Your body still ached from the public and private session you’d done, and your limbs felt heavy as you dragged yourself through the hall. Luckily you had awoken around 5:30 am and was at campus around 7. You still had a few more minutes to spare until your first lecture and the dreaded pop quiz.

You knew shit cause you didn't revise saying that you would do it in the morning. Well that was a lie.

'I'll just wing it' you thought as you walked into the café to grab some coffee. The café’s comforting warmth felt like a small refuge. You needed caffeine, something to drag you out of this groggy haze. The barista handed you the cup. The place was packed with students and lecturers as you squeezed through people. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed where you were going.

And that’s when you collided into something hard.

You walked right into a firm, solid chest. The impact sent a jolt through your body, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. The smell of something clean—like freshly washed linen, with the faintest hint of sandalwood—filled your senses, grounding you even as the embarrassment flooded your face. Your nose twitched from pain as you let out a small 'ow'.

You looked up, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

It was him.

The devil himself, the man who thought it would be great to have a pop quiz in the morning.

Professor Alhaitham.

Oh and also the man who had humiliated you in front of the entire class just yesterday, his words sharp and cutting as if you were some lazy student who had rolled out of bed with no care. And here you were, nearly doing the same thing. You opened your mouth to apologize, but then your eyes met his, and something inside you froze.

He stared at you with a wide-eyed look, his usual unbothered, calm demeanor completely gone. For a moment, his face seemed to soften, surprise mixing with something else you couldn’t place. His light turquoise eyes were framed by long lashes, and you were momentarily struck by how striking his gaze was. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no sound came out.

What was his problem?

You shifted awkwardly, your body still brushing against his, and suddenly you became hyper-aware of how close you were. His chest was firm beneath his clothes, his body warm, and for a brief moment, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath. His presence felt… overwhelming. The scent of him, the way his tall frame seemed to block out everything else.

And yet, there was something off. His reaction wasn’t what you’d expect from someone as stoic and composed as he had seemed in class. His eyes flickered with recognition—like he’d seen you somewhere before. But how could that be?

Before you could piece together what was happening, his eyes darted away, the strange look quickly masked by his usual indifference. He straightened, but his hands twitched, as if he were unsure of what to do with them.

You blinked, quickly stepping back, trying to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, barely able to look at him. You felt like your face was on fire, and all you wanted to do was escape the situation.

He said nothing at first, still staring at you with that strange intensity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he murmured, his voice deeper than you remembered from class. But there was something in his tone, something that almost felt… uncertain.

You mumbled another apology, your heart racing, and without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and rushed out of the café, the sound of your pounding footsteps drowning out the whirlwind of confusion in your head.

What the hell was that? You couldn’t shake the strange feeling his reaction had left you with. Was it embarrassment from the way he had insulted you in class? No—this was different. The way he looked at you wasn’t just surprise. There was something else in his eyes.

You shoved the thought out of your mind. It didn’t matter. He was just your professor, and you had to keep it that way, no matter how weird things got. Your eyes brighten when you noticed you didn't spill your coffee as you hurried down the cafe and took a right turn towards the lecture hall that Professor Al haitham's lecture will be held.

Unaware of the turmoil you had just left behind, Alhaitham stood frozen in place. His hands were still shaking, heart hammering in his chest, and he couldn’t stop replaying the moment over in his mind.

It was you.

The cam girl. The one he’d been watching for weeks. The one he had subscribed to under an anonymous name, indulging in those private sessions like they were his guilty pleasure. He had never planned on it becoming more than a fleeting escape—a place where he could admire you from afar, behind the safety of his screen.

But now, standing there, his chest still tingling from where you had bumped into him, the reality hit him with terrifying force.

He knew your body, your voice, the way you moved in front of the camera. But you… you had no idea who he was. To you, he was just the arrogant professor who had mocked you in class.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

His pulse quickened, his mind racing through the implications. His favorite cam girl was now his student, and she didn’t even know.

part 2

PART 3|| ⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+ [MDNI]

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor ♡

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 4 parts)

also, please do like, reblog, and comment. i love to hear your thoughts about this <33

word count: 10.2k

As you enter the college hall, a familiar blend of nerves and anticipation washes over you, a feeling that has lingered since last night. The memory of your earlier slip sends a wave of heat to your cheeks, and you struggle to reconcile the embarrassment with the thrill of the moment.

'Professor' you had moaned during your cam session, the words escaping your lips before you even realised what you had said. Lost in a whirlwind of illicit fantasies about Alhaitham, you hadn’t registered the slip until it was too late.

Great. They probably think I have a professor kink. A thought that, while tempting to entertain, is one you refuse to acknowledge fully. The mere idea of facing Professor Alhaitham after your indiscretion makes you want to combust or just fucking disappear.

Last night, you had surrendered to the allure of your fantasies about him—four times—each time caught in a delusion about a man who, in reality, would never see you as a viable partner.

One you are his student.

Two, he seems to possess an almost otherworldly quality, as if he has emerged from the ether without parents to guide him.

Three, he exudes an aura that suggests he wouldn’t be interested in dating someone younger than himself.

And four, he is your professor.

He embodies everything you desire in a man: handsome, intelligent, and caring. You shake your head, inhaling deeply to clear the clutter of thoughts centered solely on him. If you’re going to survive this day without embarrassing yourself in his presence, you need to rein in your thoughts and emotions. With a confident smile, you push the doors open, your gaze sweeping across the room until it settles on him at the front.

“Fuck.”

Your resolve crumbles as your eyes lock onto Professor Alhaitham, who appears even more captivating today. The sight of him—tall and composed, absorbed in his notes—takes your breath away. He is already there, exuding an air of calm as he flips through his documents, completely unfazed. Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, the top button undone, revealing a hint of his collarbone, and fitted black slacks, he looks effortlessly sophisticated.

His tousled hair frames his face perfectly, and his glasses perch on the bridge of his nose as he reads. 'Please bend me over your desk and take me like the—' Your thoughts freeze as his gaze suddenly meets yours. In that moment, something shifts. His expression remains largely unchanged, yet the flicker of recognition in his eyes sends a jolt through you, leaving your heart racing and your mind reeling.

“Well, well,” he remarked, a dry amusement threading through his voice as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. “It’s so nice to see you on time for once.” The memory of your first encounter flooded back, a moment etched in your mind when he had delivered a sharp insult that stung more than you’d like to admit.

Your cheeks burned with lingering embarrassment, but you couldn’t resist the urge to scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically as you made your way across the room to your usual seat.

“What can I say?” you retorted, a thick layer of sarcasm coating your words. “I wouldn’t want to deprive myself of another opportunity to bask in the brilliance of your lectures.”

A faint smirk danced at the corners of his mouth, his eyes glinting with an intelligence that was both sharp and playful. “Careful,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk, each word deliberately measured. “Too much sarcasm, and the first-years might start thinking you’re only here for my company.”

Maybe I am here only for your company, you thought, directing him a subtle glare that barely masked the tumult of thoughts swirling in your mind. Memories of last night crept in, and you fought to anchor yourself back in the present, pushing aside the alluring distractions that threatened to pull you under.

His casual yet cutting remark sent a wave of heat to your cheeks despite your best efforts to remain unfazed. You opened your mouth to shoot back a snarky response, but the way his gaze lingered on you—intense and probing—made you falter, if only for a fleeting moment.

There was an unmistakable energy in his eyes—a blend of challenge and teasing—that left you feeling slightly unsettled.

“You seem a bit on edge today,” Alhaitham observed, his tone casual, yet there was a note of curiosity beneath it. “Oh, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you deflected, the lie slipping easily from your lips as you tried to mask the real reason behind your unease. “Too much caffeine before bed.”

Alhaitham hums thoughtfully, a knowing glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. “Caffeine, huh?” he muses, tilting his head slightly as if weighing your words.  “I suppose it’s easy to blame caffeine for sleepless nights. But you know, it’s often the mind that keeps us awake,” he replies, his voice smooth.

“Maybe you should try clearing your thoughts before bed instead.” He leans in slightly,  “Or do you have other distractions keeping you up?” His tone is casual, but the underlying implication sends your heart racing.

You couldn't show that his words affected you, your mind racing about last night. You felt paranoid like as if he knew but you knew that was impossible as you meet his gaze, a mixture of surprise and intrigue washing over you. “I guess you could say that,” you reply, your voice steady despite the flutter in your stomach. “But it’s not always easy to silence a restless mind, especially with everything going on.” You lean back slightly, trying to play it cool.

You wanted to high five yourself for the sleek answer as you watched his expression change, your eyes focused everywhere but on his. “What about you? You seem like someone who has it all figured out.” Alhaitham chuckles softly, the sound low and almost intimate. “Is that what you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you even as you pointedly avoid his gaze. “I might be good at keeping things in order, but even I can’t escape a wandering mind sometimes.” He pauses, watching you fidget slightly. “Though I find that facing what’s on your mind is often more effective than avoiding it,” he adds, his voice dipping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, heart racing, before deciding to escape the tension. You force a nervous smile as you slowly inch your way towards your desk. "Haha, wise words from a wise man,” you say with a light laugh, hoping to ease the tension, but the moment the words leave your mouth, you cringe internally.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s a bit of a shallow observation, don’t you think?” His tone is calm, but there’s an edge of intellectual superiority that stings. “I expected something more insightful.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you finally reach your seat, sinking into it quickly.

You drop your bag onto the desk, hoping the conversation is over, feeling the weight of his comment linger as you try to brush it off. you dropped your bag onto the desk and slid into your seat, opening your laptop to prepare the slides for today’s lesson. The early morning email from Alhaitham had come as a surprise, his note brief and to the point, requesting you to compile his last-minute thoughts into a presentation. He didn’t have time to do it himself.

“You could have sent me this last night, I spent my whole morning putting this together for you.” you whined, the words had slipped out before you could catch them, an echo of your frustration. “Oh, I didn’t want to worry you,” he had replied, his tone deceptively nonchalant. “I kept you late last night with our little dinner.” There had been a pause, a shift in his words.

“You probably had other, more important things to do after that.” Again, your paranoia ate at you. The implications hung in the air like a heavy fog, and heat rushed to your cheeks as your mind drifted back to your cam session, remembering the way you’d moaned his title for your audience. You turned back to the slides, flustered, trying to focus on the task at hand but you couldn't help but reply back. “Well, I would have still had it done,” you said defiantly, straightening in your seat and meeting his gaze.

“Then you would have probably slept throughout the whole morning and ended up coming late for my first-year lecture,” he countered, his voice smooth and unbothered. “Better than listening to you drone on like a monotone robot,” you replied, a smirk tugging at your lips as you leaned back in your chair.

“Touché,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He straightened up, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "But if I’m a robot, then that makes you my delightful assistant—crafted to enhance my teaching.” He says, his large body shadowing over yours as he stood infront of the desk you sat at, he tilts his head as if sizing you up.

“Crafted, huh?” you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly. “Maybe you should send me to a repair shop then; I’m definitely malfunctioning.” You raised an eyebrow, maintaining your playful stance, but the heat of his gaze made your heart race.

For a brief moment, the atmosphere shifted, the playful banter charged with an energy that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you draw your focus back on your laptop. You didn’t notice the subtle knowing smile that crept onto Alhaitham’s face as he walked around your desk, the air around him radiating warmth.

Then he stood behind you, leaning forward with one hand bracing the desk just beside your arm, the other slipping into his pocket. The proximity was almost suffocating, and before you could stop it, your mind drifted—back to last night, when you’d been in front of your camera, your body on display for your audience. Your face flushed at the memory, heart thudding wildly in your chest.

How could you think of it now? You’d been lost in your own little world last night, playing to the camera, murmuring 'Professor' in a breathy tone that was meant for faceless strangers.

But now, with him standing right here, close enough that you could smell his clean, woodsy scent, the recollection of your voice—his title—was all you could hear. Your breath hitched. The warmth of him, the way he leaned in just slightly, his scent swirling around you—it was almost too much.

Your heart raced, and for a second, the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred. You swallowed hard, biting your lip as your mind drifted to the idea of his body pressed behind you, his hands gripping your waist tightly— surely to leave his hand prints behind as he takes you from behind, the strong harsh thrusts of his hips slamming into your ass, his teeth biting into the exposed skin of your shoulder as he — A soft pat on your head jolted you back to reality, and you blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks.

The touch was so unexpected, so casual, that it shocked you back to the present. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “The slides look great. You’ve done well.” The praise hit you like a jolt of electricity, making your pulse stutter. There was something about the way he said it—calm, composed, yet laced with a teasing edge that made heat creep up your neck.

You could feel your entire body react, the tension coiling in your stomach as his hand lingered for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. You turned to look at him, to say thank you but instead your words were stuck in your throat. His face was inches away from yours, your eyes widen slightly.

“And also stop letting your mind wander while I talk to you; I’d prefer to think you’re hanging onto my every word,” Alhaitham said, his intense gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You could hardly focus on the lecture as your mind spiraled into uncharted territory. 'Yeah, I’m actually thinking of hanging onto you as you push me against the wall and take control. ' The thought sent a rush of heat through your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to suppress the flustered smile threatening to break free.

“Right, because your words are the only thing worth hanging onto,” you shot back, attempting to sound more confident than you felt. “Next, you’ll be telling me you could give a TED talk on the art of monotony.” He chuckled softly, the sound low and amused.

“Monotony is a skill, you know. But perhaps I should consider changing my approach, just to keep your attention.” His smirk widened, and you could see a glint of mischief in his eyes as he added, “Or perhaps you need a more stimulating environment to stay engaged.” As he stepped back, the distance between you returned to its normal state, but the warmth lingered in your cheeks, along with the remnants of the heat his proximity had ignited.

For a second, you were grateful he couldn’t see your face when he turned his back towards you—flushed as it was with the sudden flood of thoughts—thoughts you shouldn’t be having in a classroom.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand, even as your heart raced, and your mind replayed his words. Good girl. You wanted to melt into the floor. The lecture began soon after, and despite your best efforts, your thoughts kept drifting.

Alhaitham’s voice was steady, commanding the room with his usual composed authority, but you found it hard to concentrate. Instead of taking notes, you doodled absently in the margins of your notebook, your mind wandering between the slides and the lingering warmth of his touch, the teasing praise he’d given you.

You had barely noticed the end of the lesson when the shuffle of students leaving the room pulled you back to reality. As you began to gather your things, Alhaitham, ever perceptive, leaned over and plucked the sheet of paper you’d been doodling on from the desk.

“Doodling, I see?” His voice carried that same air of dry amusement, his brow arching slightly as he looked at the aimless swirls of ink. “Not exactly an artistic masterpiece, I suppose you’d rather doodle than listen to me" he said, his voice smooth and teasing, “I could always give you a bunch of thesis papers to mark instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist. “Wouldn't want to ruin your flawless teaching reputation, Professor.” You gestured dramatically toward the stacks of papers on his desk. He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eye.

“At least I’m not the one doodling during a lecture, potentially ruining my students’ futures.” He crossed his arms, feigning a look of mock disappointment. You let out a soft laugh, reaching to take the paper back, but he held it just out of reach, his expression maddeningly calm.

“I’m not here to make your lectures look good,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I’m here because I have to be.” He gave a quiet chuckle, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket like it was something valuable.

“Well,” he said, that same infuriating smirk tugging at his lips, “you’ve been doing quite well, as my assistant. Though I have to admit, your work ethic sometimes leaves room for improvement.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the subtle possessiveness in his tone slipping past you entirely.

“My work ethic?” you echoed, giving him an exaggerated look of mock offense. “I’d say you’re lucky to have me.” His smirk widened, the faintest hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“I never said otherwise.” There was a brief pause, and then, casually—almost too casually—he added, “I enjoyed your company last night.” Your heart skipped a beat.

He’d said it so smoothly, without a second thought, but it lingered in the air between you, heavy with implication. Your mind raced back to last night, the way he’d looked at you when you’d shared that quiet moment, the conversation last night felt just a little too intimate.

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. And then, with a small, teasing smile, you asked, “And... what would that make this, then? Another ‘company outing’?”

Does that mean he sees you more that his student ? Maybe he now saw you as a friend, that was a good step to getting closer to him ? Correct ?

He paused, his eyes flickering with something deeper, something darker. “Another… occasion for your assistance,” he replied smoothly, though the weight of his words seemed to carry a deeper meaning. “In a slightly different context.” Your breath caught at the subtle, suggestive undertone in his voice.

The way he said it—so calm, so controlled—made your heart race faster. “But not today. I have other plans for us,” Alhaitham said, his voice low and deliberate. Your brows furrowed as you processed his words, the weight of it hanging in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh really? Should I be concerned or flattered?” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your tone, though the flutter in your chest betrayed your casual front.

Alhaitham’s lips curved slightly. “Depends on how much you enjoy surprises,” he replied, his gaze still holding yours, the tension between you unmistakable.

“But what kind of surprise?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, raising an eyebrow at him. Alhaitham’s gaze remained steady, lips curving into a faint smirk.

“Marking,” he replied simply, his tone casual, though there was an edge to it you couldn’t quite place. You blinked, unimpressed.

“Marking? That’s the big surprise?” He shrugged, leaning back slightly. “What? It’s important work,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, but the way he said it made you feel like there was something more lurking beneath the surface.

The walk back to his office was thick with tension, the quiet hallway amplifying every footstep. The college was nearly deserted, only the hum of distant lighting and the faint echo of their steps filling the space. The cool evening air filtered through the open windows, contrasting with the warmth that radiated between them.

Alhaitham towered over you, the height difference making you feel small but far from insignificant in his presence. When he unlocked the door to his office and gestured for you to enter, you weren’t prepared for what you saw—a pool table, sleek and out of place, dominating the room.

His office was a mix of academic and personal space, bookshelves lining the walls, his desk neatly stacked with papers, but the pool table stole your attention. You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.

"Oh well this is new...I didn’t exactly peg you for someone who plays pool." Alhaitham grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Professor...Kaveh’s doing. The idiot’s redoing his office and shoved it in here until he’s done." His tone was laced with annoyance as he shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto a nearby chair.

He moved with calculated ease, and when he turned to lock the door behind him, his gaze lingered on you, darker than usual. You stood there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, feeling the weight of his attention.

You chuckled softly, taking a moment to admire the table’s polished surface. “I’ve never played before,” you confessed, glancing up at him. His usual detached demeanor softened slightly, something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "Well, why don’t I show you how it’s done? It’s Friday, after all. We can relax today instead of working." he said quietly, walking toward the table.

His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous undercurrent that made your pulse quicken.

"But what about the papers you wanted to mark ? 'The suprise' Don't you need to submit them soon?" you question, Alhaitham gazed back up at you and than at the clock on the wall.

"It's past my work hours. Once it hits five and I have no other obligations, I clock out." He says nonchalantly, your brows furrowed as you remember all those days he kept you way after 5 doing tedious and even sometimes silly tasks that kept you with him in his office till 7 or even later.

You didn't say anything as the thought of spending more time with him, just the two of you in this quiet office, sent a thrill through you. You glanced around, noticing how the dim lighting created a cozy atmosphere “You know what? Why not?” you replied, a grin spreading across your face as you finally relaxed to the idea or playing a simple game of pool with your professor.

Alhaitham smiled back, and you could feel the warmth of his gaze as he moved to set up the game. As he lined up the balls, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement.

This was an opportunity to see a different side of him, to explore the uncharted territory that lay between you. “Let’s see if you have any hidden talents,” he teased, a playful spark in his eyes a contrast to his usual dull and bored gaze.

You watched him as he lined up the balls, his movements so fluid and confident. There was no turning back now. The tension in the room seemed to thicken with every second as he handed you the cue stick, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment, sending a spark of electricity through your skin.

“Stand here,” he instructed, guiding you to the side of the table. “Grip the cue like this.” You tried to follow his directions, but your hands were unsteady, and your mind was racing too fast to fully focus on what he was saying. The room felt smaller, the air heavy and warm.

You could feel his presence behind you, the soft hum of his voice brushing against your ears as he explained the game. You attempted to hit the ball, but it only wobbled awkwardly across the table. Heat rose to your cheeks as you let out a nervous laugh, glancing at him sheepishly.

“I told you I wasn’t any good at this.” Alhaitham didn’t laugh. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours in a way that made your breath catch. “It’s alright,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

He walks towards you but pauses. "Can I show you how to postion yourself?” His words were simple but they made your heartbeat faster. With just a simple nod of your head, Alhaitham slid behind you, you felt the warmth of his body pressed against yours— his chest pressed against your back as his hand reaches for yours that held the cue.

Your heart pounding in your chest as your hands turned clammy, trembling slightly under the weight of his. His large hand enveloped yours on the cue, steadying it. Your legs felt weak beneath you, and the strong scent of him washed over you like a wave, almost intoxicating. His chest pressed against your back—much closer than necessary—much closer than needed and the warmth of his breath ghosted across the nape of your neck, sending a cascade of goosebumps down your spine.

His grip tightened around your hand, guiding the cue, while his other hand held yours at the end of it. He bent forward, pressing his body against yours even more as he aligned you with the ball, leaving no space between the two of you. Your eyes widened, the sudden realization hitting you that you were completely caged beneath him, his strength and presence overwhelming.

Your mind raced, thoughts spinning out of control, each one more dangerous than the last. You were dangerously close to your professor, in a position you shouldn't even be in, it felt very intimate.

You had to leave before you overthought things, before you said or did something you'd regret.

“P-Pr-professor, it’s getting late,” you stammered nervously, trying to find your voice, but it came out as little more than a squeak. Instead of releasing you, his grip on your hands tightened, keeping you firmly in place as he aimed the cue at the ball.

“Oh?” he murmured, his voice deep and unsettlingly calm. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “Late, you say?”

Before you could respond, he cut you off with a chilling whisper.

“Are you getting late to go record yourself?”

Your heart stuttered, skipping a beat as your body went numb. A cold shiver ran down your spine. “W-what?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as panic surged through you. He smirked, the curve of his lips brushing your ear as he readied your hands and his to hit the ball.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” His voice was smooth, teasing. “Maybe I should be clearer. Are you getting late to go record yourself... and play with your cunt while thinking about your professor?” Your breath caught in your throat, a gasp stuck in your chest at the revelation of his words and the use of such a profanity coming out of his mouth.

As if on cue, he suddenly hit the ball, the clinking sound of the collision echoing in the tense silence. You stood there, frozen, pale as a ghost, your mind struggling to process what he had just said.

“H-how?” you whispered, your voice weak, barely holding on. “I’ve known you as Ms. Bunny for a while now. Three months, to be exact.” His voice was low, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something mundane. “I was never into things like cam girls, but you... you caught my eye. And as if fate threw the ball into my court, you walked right into my hands. My perfect little bunny.” Your breath hitched, your grip loosening on the cue as it clattered softly against the table.

His hands slid slowly, deliberately down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips, sending another wave of shivers through you. His lips hovered near the nape of your neck, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, as if he were on the verge of kissing you. And in that moment, everything in you screamed to run, but you couldn’t move—trapped beneath him, caged by his words and touch. You were like a bunny caught in a wolf’s den—small, trembling, and helpless, every instinct telling you to flee, but your body refused to respond.

Your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else as your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. His presence towered over you, predatory, his touch both dangerous and deliberate, pinning you in place as if he could snap you up in an instant.

The air around you thickened, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. His breath on your neck, hot and teasing, sent another shiver coursing through you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as though you were laid bare in front of him, no escape in sight.

His every movement was controlled, his hands firm and sure, while you were frozen, like prey paralyzed under the hunter's gaze, knowing you were outmatched yet powerless to resist. You felt his hands tighten around your waist as he suddenly turned you to face him, the movement both swift and controlled.

Your heart pounded violently, and before you could catch your breath, his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, pressing gently. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, as if he could see through every defense you tried to put up.

"You're going to report me to the college ?" your voice trembling as tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your whole life flashed before your eyes—ruined.

“Report you?” he murmured, voice smooth like velvet, but the underlying tone was sharp, dangerously confident. “Why would I do that to my favorite student… and cam girl?” His thumb pressed a little harder against your lip, teasing, his eyes dragging slowly over your face as if savoring your reaction.

You were trembling, every inch of you on high alert, but then his next words slipped past his lips, low and intimate, sending a wave of heat straight to your core.

“You’re too valuable to me in both of your roles,” he whispered, leaning closer, his breath grazing your skin. “But I wonder…” He paused, his thumb pulling at your lip ever so slightly.

“Do you tremble like this when you’re thinking of me late at night?” Your thighs squeezed together involuntarily, the tension overwhelming, a response you couldn’t hide from him.

He smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had on you, his gaze never leaving yours as he leaned in closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity. Your stomach dropped, your entire body flushing with heat as you remembered last night—your body tangled in sheets, your lips parting with a moan as you fantasized about him.

You had no idea he was watching, no idea that he was aware of how deeply you wanted him. His eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.Your mind raced, a whirlwind of shock and confusion.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, as heat rushed to your cheeks. His gaze burned into yours, every word he said weaving a thread of tension that seemed to wrap tighter and tighter around the two of you.

“Every moan, every sigh,” he whispered, his voice dark and dangerously soft, “it intrigued me. You’ve always had a way of captivating an audience, captivating me.” The air between you crackled, the heat of his body so close to yours igniting every nerve.

His pale turquoise eyes, ringed with that striking shade of orange, roamed your face, lingering on your parted lips, on the flush of your cheeks, and the way your breath hitched in anticipation. His thumb traced your jawline slowly, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—only feel the magnetic pull of his presence, the intensity of his gaze. “I know you desire me as much as I desire you,” he stated, voice deep and sure, his eyes drinking in your reaction, locking onto the tears that glossed your wide eyes.

His words sent a surge of heat rushing through you, and before you could deny or confirm, his hand was already moving, trailing down your neck, fingers grazing the edge of your shirt. The tension built with each passing second, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, he leaned in.

His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm and teasing against your mouth. You felt every inch of him so close, his chest brushing against yours, the heat of his body seeping into yours. He hesitated for only a heartbeat, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

Instead, you found yourself leaning in, closing the gap as if drawn by an invisible force. And then his lips captured yours. The kiss was slow at first, his mouth moving gently against yours, testing, teasing. But the moment you responded, his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer, the kiss deepening with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

His other hand slipped to the small of your back, fingers pressing against the fabric of your shirt, urging you closer to him. As Alhaitham’s lips moved against yours, the kiss deepened. His tongue slid between your parted lips, meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. The heat of the moment overwhelmed you, and you responded instinctively, your tongue tangling with his in a battle for dominance that made your head spin.

Every touch of his tongue against yours sent shockwaves through your body, a fire igniting in your core as you pressed closer to him, seeking more. His large hands roamed over your back, one sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he kissed you deeper, almost possessively. His other hand trailed down your side, fingers grazing the edge of your exposed skin, sending goosebumps across your body.

The kiss was intoxicating, and every movement of his tongue against yours sent a surge of electricity through your veins. His lips parted slightly, and his tongue dipped back into your mouth, exploring you with an almost deliberate slowness that made you weak in the knees. The warmth of his breath mixed with yours, the taste of him lingering on your lips as he pressed his body closer, trapping you against him.

You moaned softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him in a way that made your heart race even faster. His grip tightened as his tongue teased yours, the sensation of it sliding against yours both tender and demanding, filling you with a longing you hadn’t felt before.

You felt utterly consumed by him, the tension between you unbearable as his mouth worked expertly against yours, stealing every thought from your mind. Just as he reached to unhook your bra, his lips still pressed against yours, there was a knock at the door. Alhaitham paused for a moment, but instead of pulling away, he groaned lowly against your lips, his tongue still teasing yours as he kept you trapped in the kiss.

His hand, which had been ready to undo the clasp of your bra, stayed firmly in place as he pulled you even closer, as if refusing to be interrupted. He clearly wasn’t finished yet. You whimpered softly, the knock on the door barely registering as your senses were overwhelmed by his touch and the intoxicating way his tongue moved against yours.

Another knock echoed through the room, louder this time. Alhaitham swore under his breath, finally pulling away from the kiss but not letting go of you. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, his warm breath mingling with yours. "I locked the door," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, as if to reassure you that no one could just walk in.

But the knock persisted. With a frustrated sigh, Alhaitham glanced toward the door, clearly annoyed at the interruption. His eyes, now darker with unspoken desire, flickered back to you. "Get under the desk," he ordered softly, his voice carrying a weight that left no room for argument.

"You’re not exactly in a presentable state." You scrambled to obey, quickly adjusting your half-open shirt and ducking under his desk. The tension in the room was palpable, your heart still pounding from the kiss as you crouched down, hidden from view.

Alhaitham straightened himself up, his movements smooth and composed, though you could tell he was still agitated. His fingers combed through his hair, and with a deep breath, he crossed the room, unlocking the door and opening it to reveal Kaveh on the other side.

Kaveh strolled in uninvited, his presence filling the room like an obnoxious breeze. His platinum blonde hair caught the dim light of the office, gleaming as he leaned against the doorframe. He wore sleek trousers, the fabric light and fine, like silk. They crinkled softly as he shifted his weight, standing with one hip cocked. His shirt, loosely untucked, made him look both casual and out of place at this hour. The texture of his trousers was smooth, almost shimmering with the light sheen that played across the fabric, emphasizing the ease with which Kaveh carried himself.

Alhaitham’s jaw tightened in irritation. Without missing a beat, he subtly moved back toward his desk, his eyes glancing down at you hidden beneath it. Your heart raced, pulse quickening as you pressed yourself further into the shadows.

"Really, Kaveh," Alhaitham said, his voice carefully composed though laced with clear annoyance, "was there something urgent you needed?" He casually lowered himself into the desk chair, positioning himself in front of you.

As he did, his thighs brushed against either side of your face, enclosing your head between them. Your breath hitched, eyes widening in shock at how intimately close you suddenly were. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and the scent of him was stronger here, enveloping you entirely.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your pulse racing at this unexpected situation, and you had to fight to stay still, afraid even the slightest movement would give you away. From above, Alhaitham sat calmly, looking at Kaveh with practiced nonchalance, though the tension in the room was palpable.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair, though the motion pressed the hard surface of his leg brushing against your chest as you tucked yourself away.

The space was small, the cool wood above your head a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from Alhaitham’s body. Your breath was shallow, heart pounding as you tried to settle into the cramped space. You could feel the steady rhythm of his pulse under your palm where it rested on his thigh, the taut muscle flexing as he moved to close the gap between his chair and the desk.

His thigh muscles were hard under your hand, and the scent of his clean, crisp cologne was intoxicating in such proximity. The subtle shift of fabric against your cheek made you hyperaware of how close you were to his crotch. “Alhaitham,” Kaveh huffed our, annoyed, “What’re you still doing here? I figured you’d have packed up like everyone else. Or are you hoping to sulk in solitude all night?” Alhaitham’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I prefer quiet. Unlike some people.”

Kaveh’s gaze darted to the pool table shoved against the far wall. “Speaking of quiet, how’s your student? I haven’t seen her around. Skipping out on you already?” He smirked, and Alhaitham’s jaw tightened. “She’s too busy working on her ‘mediocre distractions’ to bother showing up,” Alhaitham quipped dryly, a hint of annoyance bleeding into his voice.

He clearly didn’t like being put on the spot, and the casual insult about you grated on your nerves. Without thinking, you bit down on his thigh—just enough for him to feel it, just enough to remind him you were still there, listening.

He jolted, his leg twitching under your bite, a low gasp escaping his lips. The sudden rush of sensation caused his composure to falter, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk briefly. His sharp intake of breath made his pulse quicken, and you felt it through the taut muscles under your fingers.

Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, catching the subtle shift in Alhaitham’s expression. “Did you just hurt yourself sitting down? You’re not that old, are you?” Kaveh teased, eyes flicking from Alhaitham’s tightly clenched hands back to his face. “I... hit my knee,” Alhaitham muttered, the words forced, as if he were struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Waiting for you to leave is apparently hazardous to my health.” Kaveh scoffed, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s amazing you even have any patience left. Though, you really shouldn’t insult your assistant. From what I’ve seen, she does all the heavy lifting around here.” A wave of irritation surged through you, but your biting had only seemed to amuse Alhaitham more.

His thigh tensed beneath you as his fingers briefly brushed against the underside of the desk, almost as if warning you to stop. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, torn between the embarrassment of the situation and the thrill of knowing that Kaveh was completely oblivious to your presence, hidden between Alhaitham’s legs.

“You’ve got no room to talk, Kaveh,” Alhaitham retorted coolly, trying to regain his composure despite the lingering sensation of your teeth on his skin.

“How are your selfcations going? Found anyone to tolerate you for longer than five minutes yet?” Kaveh’s face twisted into a mock pout. “I won’t grace you with my presence for a week, so enjoy the silence. And don’t forget to water my plants while I’m away.”

As Kaveh turned to leave, his eyes lingering on the desk for a moment longer than comfortable, Alhaitham shifted in his seat, pulling his chair closer to ensure you stayed completely hidden. You were tucked tightly between his thighs, your lips so close to the heat of his growing arousal that you could almost feel it through his trousers. The tension was unbearable, your heart thundering in your chest as you struggled to stay still, your mind racing with the illicit nature of it all.

Kaveh finally let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I’ll leave you to your brooding. But don’t think you can insult your student without consequences. She’s probably the best thing you’ve got going for you.”

With a wave, Kaveh sauntered out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alhaitham exhaled heavily, his body relaxing only slightly. His hand fell to your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping just tight enough to send a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him from your position between his thighs, your face flushed, breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

When he glanced down at you, there was no mischievous glint in his eyes—only something darker, more consuming. His gaze roamed over your swollen lips, the rise and fall of your chest, and the way you still knelt between his legs, completely at his mercy.

“And you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shudder through you, “biting my thigh like that—what were you thinking?”

The look in his eyes was intense, magnetic, pulling you in. His fingers tightened their hold on your hair, tugging lightly as he leaned forward just enough that your breaths mingled, warm and shallow.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “Maybe I wanted to see how you’d react.”

His lips quirked up, not in amusement, but in acknowledgment of the challenge. “Dangerous game, little one,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against the corner of your lip, smearing the remnants of your earlier kiss. 

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, the creak of the leather barely audible over the heavy, charged silence in the room. The air felt thick with tension, your face now so close to his growing arousal that your breaths mingled with the scent of him. The heat radiating from him made your pulse quicken, and when his hand moved to his belt, your heart stuttered in your chest.

His hand was steady, the fingers long, elegant but strong, with a certain grace as they worked the leather through the buckle. The light from the overhead lamp cast shadows across the veins on the back of his hand, tracing the subtle ridges of muscle. The buckle clicked open, and his fingers deftly undid the button of his trousers, the fabric parting to reveal the dark material of his boxers beneath.

He was thick and large underneath the thin material, your eyes trailing from the tip and towards the end— where his heavy balls with with cum laid beneath the thin material that covered it.

He paused, his eyes dropping to meet yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, but his gaze—intense and searching—lingered on you, as though he were gauging your reaction, watching for the smallest flicker of apprehension. But your eyes, heavy with arousal, met his in silent understanding, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

His voice was deep, low as he commanded, “Just your mouth.”

A spark of nervousness shot through you at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “What if someone walks in?”

A quiet, almost condescending chuckle slipped from his lips as his fingers slid into your hair, gripping just firmly enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You seem to thrive on the thrill of it,” he murmured, his tone as sharp as ever but layered with something darker, something that made the ache between your thighs all the more unbearable. “Now use that smart mouth of yours efficiently.”

His words settled over you like a challenge, and despite the flush of nerves still heating your skin, you leaned forward. Your lips ghosted over the soft fabric of his boxers, a tentative kiss pressed to the tip of the hard cock beneath. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, but his grip on your hair remained steady, guiding, controlling. His breath hitched as your lips moved lower, your mouth parting to mouth along the outline of him, and you could feel the power shift in the way his fingers flexed in your hair.

This was different from anything you'd ever experienced before. The intimacy of it, the raw tension—it was overwhelming, and yet, you found yourself craving more, your pulse pounding in your ears as the space between you dissolved into something electric.

The fabric of his boxers was soft against your lips, but beneath it, the hardness of his cock was undeniable, pulsing with heat. You could feel his body tensing with every kiss and suckle you placed along his length, teasing, testing. The scent of him filled your senses, heady and intoxicating, and the weight of his hand in your hair kept you grounded, pulling you deeper into the moment.

Alhaitham’s breath came out in a slow, controlled exhale, but there was a tension to it, a subtle hitch that betrayed his usually calm exterior. He leaned back further in his chair, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he watched you. His grip tightened, fingers threading deeper into your hair, guiding you, though not forcefully. It was a subtle command, the unspoken desire behind it clear as his thumb grazed along your scalp, sending shivers down your spine.

You pressed another kiss to his boxers, this time bolder, your lips lingering a little longer. The heat radiating from his skin was almost overwhelming, and you could feel your own pulse quicken in response. Your heart raced, your body humming with a mix of nerves and anticipation as you leaned closer, letting your breath warm the space just above the waistband.

"Good," he murmured, voice low, vibrating with something restrained. His other hand had moved to his side, resting casually on the arm of his chair, but his fingers twitched, betraying the tension running through him. "But don’t be afraid to commit. I didn’t peg you for someone who holds back."

Your breath hitched at the sharp edge to his words, his usual intelligence now infused with a sensuality that made your knees feel weak. You pressed your lips more firmly against him, the friction of the fabric between you and his skin making your core throb with desire.

Without a word, you let your hands move to his thighs, your fingers sinking into the fabric of his trousers. The texture was smooth, fine, yet beneath it, the hard muscle of his legs tensed under your touch. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, the sensation of his powerful body so close making your pulse race, your thoughts scatter.

Your lips brushed lower, tracing the waistband with delicate, feather-light kisses. You could feel him shift, his grip in your hair tightening slightly, his breath coming faster, though he tried to keep it controlled. The anticipation in the air between you both was almost suffocating.

You let your teeth sink into the waistband tugging at it lightly as Alhaitham lifts his hips to help you remove the material. His hard cock gently tapped agaisnt your cheek when you had pulled the boxers down, precum streaked your rose tinted cheek. 

Your eyes widen at the site of his cock that was mere inches away from your drooling mouth. The vein around his shaft throbbed in arousal, the pearly white liquid of his precum threatened to spill as his heavy balls pulsed with the need for your attention.

"Just like that," he whispered, the approval in his voice sending a wave of heat through you. His thumb grazed the nape of your neck, gentle but insistent, a subtle reminder of who held control, even as he unraveled beneath your touch.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe that the man you had admired from a distance, the professor who had always seemed so untouchable, was now leaning back in his chair with his belt undone, his hand in your hair, letting you unravel him piece by piece. His dark eyes bore into yours, full of something that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

"Now," he said softly, his voice a low growl that sent shivers through your entire body, "let's see if you can use that mouth for more than just smart remarks." His fingers flexed in your hair, his gaze never leaving yours as he waited, tension coiling in the air between you both, thick and electric.

Your lips part, breath catching in your throat as you first press a gentle kiss on the rosy tip of his cock, your tongue peeked out from between your lips as you gave his slit a gentle kick, Alhaitham hissed at this fingers tighten around your hair, your eyes stare up at him with innocent as he groans.

You now decide to let your mouth to wrap around the mushroom tip, your tongue swirled around it, tasting the precum.

“fuck, your mouth’s so warm, bunny.” groaning so lowly, Alhaitham leaned his head back on the leather chair. caressing the top of your hair, strands in between his long digits, heavy breathing — and quiet whimpering. 

You decide to be bolder as you let the whole length slide into your mouth and down your throat, your eyes briming with tears as his cock twitched in your mouth as you tightened your lips around his length and pulled back up, licking the beautiful rosy tip, kitty-like, right on the line of it while you looked at his teal-eyes from under his desk. 

 You carefully moved to not let any of your saliva nor his pre-and-soon-cum spill on his pants as you take him once again, the weight of him pressing heavily against your cheek. He’s thicker, heavier than you imagined—far more than any of the toys you’ve ever used—and the heat radiating off him is intoxicating. For a brief moment, uncertainty flickers through you, but when his fingers tighten in your hair, drawing your attention back to him, that hesitation melts away.

The warmth of his skin seeps into your mouth as you stretch your lips around him, taking in as much as you can. The reality of him, so solid and present, fills your senses, overwhelming in the best way. He twitches against your tongue as you move, and the way he lets out a low, satisfied sigh makes something stir deep inside you. “That’s it… just like that,” he murmurs, voice thick and breathless, his fingers flexing in your hair as he gently guides your movements.

You can feel the tension in his thighs as you press your nails into them, steadying yourself, but also earning a sharp intake of breath from him. The sensation of your teeth lightly grazing him causes him to tense, his hips jerking slightly in response. You try to take him deeper, but there’s no way to fit all of him—he’s too much and he didn't want you to use your hands on his cock— just your mouth, you work him slowly, savoring every reaction he gives you, every rough inhale as his hips move in rhythm with your mouth.

His voice is a low rumble above you, his words like velvet. “You’re even better than I imagined…” he mutters, his gaze fixed on you, dark and intense. His eyes drink in every detail—your lips stretched around his cock, the soft flush spreading across your cheeks. “All those nights watching… and now I have you here, real, and mine.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, heat pooling in your stomach as you moan softly against him, the vibration pulling another low groan from his chest. His reaction is instant—his hips pressing forward as he sinks deeper into your mouth, his fingers tightening their hold. You can feel him twitching against your tongue, responding to every little movement, every swirl of your lips.

Then, without warning, you feel something press firmly against the apex of your thighs—on your clothed cunt. The tip of his shoe, pressing into you through your clothes, the pressure sudden and overwhelming. Your eyes widen, a gasp caught in your throat as pleasure jolts through you. The heat between your legs intensifies, and you instinctively grind against the pressure, trying to relieve the ache building inside you. It’s too much, too soon, and your mind spins from the intensity of it all.

His voice drips with control, low and commanding as his hips begin to move faster. “You like that, don’t you? The thrill of being caught… the thrill of being under me.” He’s watching you closely, every flicker of your eyes, every twitch of your body, his own arousal spiking at the sight of you on your knees, lips wrapped around him. 

Suddenly, his cock is deeply down your throat as you gag repeatedly. his fingers wrapped around your hair, holding it still while thrusting his hips up and beneath him, the ultimate choking mess, gasping for air, mumbling all sorts of pleading languidly — on the verge of tears and apparent faintness from the feeling of Alhaitham in your throat and the stimulation on your cunt.

 "keep still and let me cum in your mouth pretty mouth, my sweet bunny." Alhaitham grunted, his eyes taking in the site of you. 

Sweat beading up up along your forehead, your mouth shoved with his cock, your eyes blurring with tears, shirt hanging on your body exposing your bra, your fingers digging into his thighs and the site of you rutting your cunt against the sole of his shoe is what tips Alhaitham to the edge. 

His release is sudden, hot and thick, spilling into your mouth. You struggle to swallow it all, the salty taste flooding your senses, but you do your best, even as it becomes difficult to breathe. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, your lips still wrapped around him as his hips stutter to a stop, his chest heaving above you. His cock still in your mouth as it slowly softens but not completely. Your tongue desperately lapping up at his tip and he hisses from the overstimulation.

Alhaitham looked down to stare at your disheveled self, reddish swollen lips, doe eyes, watery eyelashes and finally letting you breath, patting your head. a string of saliva — and semen — connecting your lips to his tip, as you still rutted agaisnt his shoe, your arousal evident as it slowly leaked from beneath your skirt and glistened alongside your thigh. 

When he finally pulls away, your mouth feels empty, your lips swollen and wet. You’re dazed, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tracing the wetness there, his gaze dark and heavy as he takes in the sight of you—your face flushed, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

“You did well,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of satisfaction. The praise going straight to your cunt. 

 A small smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Better than I could have imagined. I’ve waited for this… and it was worth every second.”

As you catch your breath, his thumb lingers against your lip, pressing down gently as if to remind you of what just happened. You’re still trembling slightly, your legs weak beneath you, your body still buzzing with a mix of lingering pleasure and adrenaline. His gaze doesn’t leave yours, and when his hand falls from your lips, it moves to your hair, fingers threading through it, pulling you just a bit closer.

His leg, still pressed firmly against your sensitive core, shifts, sending another wave of heat rushing through you. But before you can fully register it, his hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you up from your knees. Your body moves as if on instinct, and suddenly, you're on his lap, straddling him, your thighs bracketing his hips as he settles you against him as you felt his cock agaisnt your clothed pussy. 

The world around you feels like it’s spinning—his hands are warm and strong as they hold you, his touch both commanding and careful, guiding your every movement. Your breath hitches as you feel the firmness of his chest against yours, his shirt slightly rumpled from how hurried everything had been. His belt is still undone, pants half-open, and the closeness of your bodies ignites something deeper within you. The friction of his cock brushing against your clothed mound as he adjusts you sends sparks up your spine, causing you to let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

His hands splay across your lower back, holding you flush against him, and the warmth of his body sears through the thin layers of fabric between you. His gaze never leaves yours—those sharp, intelligent eyes darkened by desire, searching your face, watching your every reaction. His lips quirk slightly, the hint of a smirk on his face, but there’s something else in his expression now—something raw, almost hungry.

You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and teasing, as he leans in closer, his fingers trailing up your spine, settling just between your shoulder blades. His mouth hovers near yours, but he doesn’t kiss you—not yet. He’s waiting, drawing out the moment, letting the tension coil tighter between you. Your heart pounds in your chest, every beat echoing in your ears as the heat between your legs grows, your body responding to his closeness, his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes flick down to your slightly parted lips, swollen from the earlier kiss, then back up to meet yours. “I knew you’d feel like this… but having you here, in my lap, like this… it’s better than anything I could have imagined.”

His words send a rush of warmth through your body, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You’re acutely aware of the way his leg presses against you, the friction building with every slight shift of your hips. His hands, firm and confident, guide your movements as he leans back in his chair, settling you more comfortably against him. The pressure between your legs is almost unbearable now, and the way his body responds to yours—his growing arousal pressed against you—only heightens the sensation.

As your hips move slightly, the friction intensifies, and a soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. His gaze sharpens, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as his cock presses up against you, sending another pulse of heat through your core. His smirk grows, eyes gleaming with that knowing look as his fingers trace slow, deliberate patterns along your back.

“You like that?” His voice is a soft tease, laced with amusement, but also something deeper, more commanding. “The way I touch you… the way your body reacts.” His lips brush against your ear, the heat of his breath sending chills across your skin. “You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? To be here, with me.”

His words stir something within you, a mix of excitement and vulnerability. Your body answers before your mind does—your hips rolling instinctively against him, chasing that friction, that warmth. His hands guide you, controlling the pace, slow but deliberate, teasing you, making you want more.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips once more before he closes the distance, finally pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep. The kiss feels different this time—more deliberate, more consuming. His lips move against yours with a steady, confident rhythm, and you melt into him, letting the kiss drown out everything else.

The room around you seems to fade away—there’s only him, the heat of his body, the way his lips claim yours, and the delicious pressure of his cock gainst your most sensitive spot. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the scent of him, the sound of his breath mingling with yours.

When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes gently across your bottom lip, swollen and slick from the kiss. 

 The silence in the room was thick, a comfortable intimacy hanging in the air between you, making every heartbeat feel amplified. 

As you looked into his captivating light turquoise eyes, you didn't think before you let the words slip past your lips.

“Would you like to watch me stream in person?”