Before I start this post, I’d like to state that while I’ve spent a lot of time fantasising about quick, dirty fucks in lecture theatres, the sex that happens in this story is a consensual roleplay scenario between adults, and all characters are above the legal age of consent. The idea for this story came from the Doctor before our threesome together, and I hope she
will punish me lotswon’t punish me for taking so long to finish it.
A late-night thesis-related revelation had resulted in me sending a frantic email to my supervisor, who agreed that if I could meet her after her Heroic Women in Literature lecture I could have ten minutes to excitedly rant at her as she walked across campus. However, I hadn’t been to the Helen Archdale building before, and by the time I’d found the lecture theatre I was seeking it was empty. At least, the rising rows of seats were empty of undergrad students; when I stepped into the room to check if Professor Simson was still at her desk, all thoughts of my research left my head.
There are two girls fucking at the front of the lecture theatre.
Her hair is a tangled mess, her shirt open, and she is moaning as she pinches one of her own nipples. The other girl, with short, choppy hair and a mischievous grin, is standing between her legs and whispering filth as she finger-fucks the girl beneath her.
“So desperate, you couldn’t even wait until we got back to our flat. You like the thought that we could be caught, don’t you, my little slut? You like the idea that someone might see you here, with your needy cunt clenching around my fingers, don’t you?”
The girl beneath her moans and begs: “Please, Al…”
“What, Becca-slut?” she teases, by the looks of things adds a thumb, rubbing firmly on her clit, to the two fingers inside her. “Do you like that? What if I told you there was someone there right now? Watching us, trying to decide if she should interrupt us to scold you like the bad girl you are, or if her fingers should creep under her skirt. You look so good when you’re getting fucked, you bad, bad girl…”
“Yes, I’m a bad, bad girl. I’m your little slut. Please may I come?”
Al. Becca. They must be undergrad students. This was wrong. My cunt betrays me, though: it’s deliciously wet and I catch myself wishing that Al’s fingers were doing the things to my a-spot that were making Becca moan and writhe beneath her.
“Hmmm,” Al pretends to consider the question, and her playful hesitation pulls a pitiful whine from Becca.
No, I realise, my hand sliding down under my jeans as I move slightly to get a better look at Becca’s tits. I don’t want to be underneath her: I want to be on top. I want to be in control of both of them, and punish the little sluts for fucking so brazenly in a public place. I rub my clit through my panties while I watch Al make Becca beg. I want to put them in their place, to chastise them for making me more turned on than I can remember being for a long time. I want to spank them both.
“Come for me, Becca-slut,” Al commands her, and she does. The sounds she makes during orgasm make my cunt clench and my clit throb. I give them just a second to recover, enjoying the sight of Al removing her fingers from Becca and licking them clean before she bends down to kiss her. I took a deep breath and stood up tall, so my next words would have maximum impact:
That was good, I sounded like a strict school mistress. The look on their faces was delightful: Al looked horrified, though she quickly masked it with a look of gleeful innocence, but Becca looked genuinely thrilled to find that someone had been watching her get fucked.
“How dare you dirty sluts engage in such filthy behaviour here? This is supposed to be a place of learning. What do you bad girls have to say for yourselves?”
Becca scrambles up from her position on the desk and tries to pull her shirt over her exposed boobs, looking genuinely embarrassed. Al, meanwhile, tries to adopt a penitent look that makes me want to beat real penitence into her.
“We’re sorry, Miss. We won’t do it aga –”
“I don’t believe you in the slightest, girl. I think you would do it again right now if you had the chance to. And don’t bother covering yourself, I’ve seen you get wantonly fucked: you cannot pretend to have any shame.”
Becca’s hands stop trying to cover herself, and instead she grins a little and points to Al: “It was her idea, Mistress: she wanted to fuck me. You should punish her for being such a bad influence on me and making me to filthy things.”
I can see Al is both surprised and aroused by the words, and I struggle to maintain my stern face.
“She is a very bad girl, yes. I will definitely punish her, and see if a spanking will make her change her slutty ways.” Becca smiles, but I continue. “However, I heard you begging her for more and I saw you come. You are just as much a little slut.”
Becca looks ashamed, and even Al looks a little chastened. It makes me wet.
“Bend over the desk,” I order, and am thrilled when Becca obeys. “Lift your skirt up, little slut, and pull your panties down to your knees.” I wait while she does as she is told, and then turn to Al.
“Are you going to join your friend, or am I could to have to make you?”
She shrugs and crosses her arms, smirking a little. “I guess you’ll have to make me.”
To be continued…
Image sourced through Pixabay.
Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.