Professor Harlan had me bent over the podium desk again, stomach flat against the scattered papers, ass high in the air, legs spread wide by his shoe between my ankles.
My torn tights hung in useless shreds around my knees, panties long since kicked aside, and his c*m dripped steadily from my wrecked p***y.
He stood behind me, c**k still impossibly hard, slick and shining with everything he had already pumped into me. He dragged the head through my swollen folds, coating himself again, teasing my oversensitive c**t until I sobbed into the crumpled exams beneath my cheek.
“You’re a mess,” he said, voice low and dark. “Look at this filthy little cunt. Gaping, leaking, begging for more even after I’ve bred you twice.”
I whimled, pushing my hips back desperately. My p***y clenched around
