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Derek Hale’s life had once been a picture of stability, or so it seemed. At 38, he was a tenured professor of literature at Beacon Hills University, his commanding presence in the lecture hall matched only by his reputation for rigorous scholarship. With his broad shoulders, neatly trimmed beard, and piercing green eyes, he cut an imposing figure, one that earned him respect from colleagues and quiet admiration from students. But beneath his crisp button-downs and tailored slacks, Derek harbored a secret: a pair of silk panties, their soft caress against his skin a private rebellion against the monotony of his life. The panties were a recent addition, a guilty pleasure he’d discovered during a late-night online shopping spree, fueled by a cocktail of boredom and unfulfilled desire.
Derek’s marriage to Laura had been passionate in its early years. They’d met in graduate school, bonding over late-night debates about Victorian poetry and shared dreams of academic success. Laura’s fiery intellect and sharp wit had captivated him, and their wedding at 26 felt like the start of a lifelong adventure. But over the years, the spark had faded. Laura’s career as a corporate lawyer consumed her, leaving little time for intimacy. Their once-vibrant sex life dwindled to perfunctory encounters, then to nothing at all. By their tenth anniversary, Derek couldn’t remember the last time they’d touched each other with desire. Laura’s disinterest left him feeling rejected, his confidence eroding with each night he spent alone in their king-sized bed, the silence between them deafening.
The void in his marriage coincided with an unexpected awakening. Derek had always considered himself straight, but in recent years, fleeting glances at men—at their strong hands, their confident strides—stirred something he couldn’t ignore. It started innocently: noticing a colleague’s broad chest during a faculty meeting, or lingering on a stranger’s bulge at the gym. But soon, those glances turned into fantasies, vivid and consuming. He fought the urges at first, guilt gnawing at him for betraying his vows, but the hunger grew too strong. Six months ago, he’d taken the plunge, meeting a man named Ethan through a discreet app. Ethan was older, experienced, and introduced Derek to a world of pleasure he’d never imagined. Their encounters were intense, fueled by Derek’s newfound obsession with being filled, stretched, and dominated. Ethan’s sizable cock had awakened Derek’s inner sizequeen, but more than that, it was the thrill of submission—of being wanted—that kept him coming back.
But Ethan was unavailable, away on a month-long business trip, leaving Derek aching and restless. His silk panties, now a daily ritual, were a small act of defiance, a way to reclaim the desire Laura no longer offered. Each morning, he’d slip them on, the soft fabric a reminder of his secret life, his cock twitching at the thought of being caught. He knew it was reckless, but the risk only heightened his arousal.
His thoughts increasingly drifted to Stiles Stilinski, a 21-year-old senior in his Advanced Literature seminar. Stiles was brilliant, his essays sharp and insightful, but it was his presence that captivated Derek. Lanky yet athletic, with amber eyes that sparkled with mischief and a smirk that promised trouble, Stiles had a way of commanding attention. During lectures, Derek often caught Stiles staring, his gaze lingering a beat too long, a silent challenge in his eyes. Derek tried to dismiss it as youthful arrogance, but the truth was undeniable: he was attracted to Stiles, his fantasies growing more explicit with each class. The guilt of lusting after a student gnawed at him, but so did the thrill. Stiles was forbidden fruit, and Derek was starving.
It was late Friday afternoon, the campus nearly deserted as the weekend loomed. Derek sat in his office, grading papers, the silk panties rubbing against his skin beneath his slacks. The air conditioning hummed, doing little to cool the heat building inside him. A knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Stiles leaning against the doorframe, his backpack slung over one shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Professor Hale,” Stiles said, his voice teasing, “got a minute? I could use some extra credit to boost my grade.”
Derek’s pulse quickened. He adjusted his glasses, hoping to mask the heat creeping up his neck. “Extra credit, huh? You’re already doing well, Stiles. What’s this about?”
Stiles stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The click of the lock echoed in the small office, a sound that felt like a line being crossed. “Oh, come on, Prof. I know you’ve got a soft spot for me. I’m just looking for… creative ways to impress you.” His tone was playful, but there was an edge to it, a challenge that made Derek’s cock stir in his panties.
Derek swallowed, his mouth dry. He stood, rounding his desk, trying to maintain authority despite the storm of desire raging inside him. His marriage was a distant memory in that moment, Laura’s cold indifference replaced by Stiles’ brazen confidence. “Creative, you say? What exactly are you proposing?”
Stiles smirked, stepping closer, his gaze dropping to Derek’s lips. “I think you know what I mean, Professor. I’ve seen the way you look at me in class. Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
Derek’s breath hitched. He should have shut this down, sent Stiles away, but the boy’s boldness ignited something primal in him. The silk panties tightened as his arousal grew, betraying his composure. “Stiles, this is inappropriate,” he managed, but his voice lacked conviction, trembling with the weight of his need.
“Is it?” Stiles closed the distance, his hand brushing Derek’s arm, sending a jolt through him. “Or is it exactly what you want? I bet you’re dying for it, aren’t you, Professor? A dirty little secret to spice up your boring life.”
The words cut deep, exposing the truth Derek had tried to bury. His marriage was a sham, his desires a wildfire he couldn’t contain. He grabbed Stiles by the shirt, pulling him into a fierce kiss, their lips crashing together with desperate hunger. Stiles responded eagerly, his tongue sliding against Derek’s, his hands roaming the professor’s broad chest. When they broke apart, panting, Stiles grinned. “Fuck, you’re hot when you let go.”
“Shut up,” Derek growled, but his hands were already tugging at Stiles’ belt, his fingers trembling with need. He dropped to his knees, the silk panties rubbing against his throbbing cock, amplifying his arousal. “You want extra credit? Show me what you’ve got.”
Stiles chuckled, undoing his jeans and shoving them down. Derek’s eyes widened as Stiles’ cock sprang free—long, thick, and easily the biggest he’d ever seen, dwarfing even Ethan’s impressive size. His mouth watered, a desperate need overtaking him. “Holy shit,” Derek whispered, his voice thick with lust. “You’re fucking huge.”
“Like what you see, Professor?” Stiles taunted, gripping Derek’s dark hair. “Go on, be a good girl and suck it.”
The feminization sent a jolt through Derek, his cock leaking in his panties. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping his lips around Stiles’ massive dick, moaning as he struggled to take it all. Stiles groaned, tightening his grip on Derek’s hair and thrusting deeper, forcing the professor to deepthroat. Derek gagged, tears prickling his eyes, but he loved it—the stretch, the burn, the way Stiles controlled him. His years of repression, the nights spent yearning for touch, all melted away as he surrendered to the moment.
“Fuck, you’re such a cockslut,” Stiles growled, pulling Derek’s hair harder. “Look at you, choking on my dick like a desperate little whore. Bet your wife doesn’t know what a dirty girl you are.”
The mention of Laura stung, but it only fueled Derek’s arousal. He moaned around Stiles’ cock, the dirty talk pushing him further into submission. He bobbed his head eagerly, saliva dripping down his chin as he worshipped the biggest dick he’d ever taken. Stiles fucked his face relentlessly, each thrust a reminder of who was in charge, a stark contrast to the power Derek wielded in the classroom.
When Stiles finally pulled out, Derek gasped for air, his lips swollen and glistening. Stiles yanked him to his feet, spinning him around and bending him over the desk. “Let’s see that ass,” Stiles said, tugging Derek’s slacks down to reveal the silk panties. “Fuck, Professor, you’re wearing panties? You’re such a naughty girl.”
Derek’s cheeks burned, but he arched his back, presenting his ass, the shame of his secret mingling with pride at Stiles’ reaction. “Please,” he whispered, voice trembling with need, the weight of his double life pressing down on him.
Stiles slapped Derek’s ass, the sound echoing in the office. Derek yelped, the sting mingling with pleasure, a sensation he’d come to crave from his encounters with Ethan. “Look at this fat, hairy ass,” Stiles said, spanking him again. “Gonna eat that fuzzy pussy of yours, Professor.”
Derek whimpered as Stiles knelt, spreading his cheeks and diving in. Stiles’ tongue lapped at Derek’s hole, teasing the sensitive rim before plunging inside. Derek moaned, gripping the desk, his body trembling as Stiles rimmed him with fervor. The sensation was overwhelming, a stark contrast to the cold distance of his marriage bed.
“Fuck, yes,” Derek gasped. “Eat my pussy, Stiles.”
Stiles growled, his tongue working deeper, his hands delivering sharp spanks that left Derek’s ass red and tingling. “Such a tight, hairy pussy,” Stiles murmured, pulling back to spit on Derek’s hole. He slid a finger inside, curling it against Derek’s prostate, making the older man cry out. “You love this, don’t you? Getting fingered like a slut while your wife’s at home.”
“Yes,” Derek panted, pushing back against Stiles’ fingers as he added a second, then a third, stretching him open. The burn was exquisite, feeding Derek’s obsession with being filled, a need that had grown insatiable since his first time with Ethan. Stiles’ fingers were relentless, scissoring and thrusting, preparing Derek for what was coming.
When Stiles stood, Derek was a mess, his panties pulled down to his thighs, his ass red and slick. Stiles lined up his massive cock, rubbing the tip against Derek’s hole. “Ready to take this dick, Professor? Gonna fuck you so good, you’ll forget your own name.”
“Do it,” Derek begged, his voice raw, the guilt of his infidelity drowned out by desire. “Fuck me, Stiles.”
Stiles thrust in, slow at first, letting Derek adjust to his size. Derek moaned, the stretch overwhelming but perfect, his body singing with pleasure. Stiles didn’t hold back for long, picking up speed, pounding into Derek’s hairy ass with deep, powerful thrusts. Each slap of skin was punctuated by Stiles’ dirty talk.
“Such a tight pussy for a cheating whore,” he growled, spanking Derek’s ass. “You love this big cock, don’t you, Professor Hale?”
“Yes!” Derek cried, his voice breaking as Stiles hit his prostate. “Fuck, I love it. Harder, please.” The words spilled out, a release of all the pent-up frustration from years of neglect.
Stiles obliged, gripping Derek’s hips and slamming into him, the desk creaking under their weight. Derek’s cock leaked into his panties, the silk rubbing against him as Stiles dominated him. The younger man’s control was intoxicating, a stark contrast to the powerlessness Derek felt in his marriage. He surrendered completely, reveling in being used, the shame of his actions only heightening his pleasure.
When Stiles came, it was with a guttural moan, filling Derek’s ass with heat. Derek followed, his orgasm ripping through him, soaking his panties as he collapsed against the desk. Stiles pulled out, smacking Derek’s ass one last time. “You’re mine now, Professor,” he said, zipping up his jeans. “My dirty little whore. Whenever I want that hairy pussy, you’ll give it to me.”
Derek nodded, still panting, his body humming with satisfaction. “Yes, Stiles,” he whispered, knowing he’d crossed a line he could never uncross—and loving every second of it. The weight of his marriage, his career, his reputation—all of it faded in the afterglow of Stiles’ touch.
From that day on, Stiles became a regular in Derek’s office, their encounters growing bolder, each one a reminder of the professor’s new role as Stiles’ willing slut. Derek’s marriage faded further into the background, Laura’s absence a silent permission for his infidelity. His secret life with Stiles filled the void, each rendezvous a rebellion against the man he’d been and a surrender to the desires he could no longer deny.
his hunger for Stiles’ massive cock and dominant touch consuming him entirely...