Sex stories

My name is Mehdi, I’m 20 years old, I study ancient history at university. I have a professor, Mr. Tafik, a man of Algerian origin whose kindness and availability are appreciated by all the students. When he stands up to demonstrate something, I notice (we all notice actually) that he has a huge bulge between his legs through his dress pants (huge). Most students don’t pay attention to it — respect, and simply the fact they’re here for his class, makes them ignore that detail. Me too, actually… even though I’m gay, and even though… I love dick.

One day I hear a small group of slackers behind me giggling. I listen:
“yo it’s Rocco Siffredi the teacher,”
“check out that bulge,”
“ouh ouh ouh…”
and they laugh like idiots.

The teacher tells them:
“gentlemen, if my class doesn’t interest you, the door is open.”

While putting them back in place, he quickly gives me a tender, slightly embarrassed look. One little idiot whispers in my ear:
“yo bro, you got a thing with Tafik, he’s got a big dick, you’re gonna love it”
(in the lecture hall everyone knows I’m gay since I’m a bit effeminate and I don’t hide it).

“Man, you’re annoying…” I tell him.

From that day on, strangely, Tafik became a fantasy for me. He was actually quite handsome when you looked closely, around 50 years old. His face had fleshy features, olive-toned and warm at the same time. But mostly… that bulge… damn, I couldn’t take my eyes off it anymore. To the point that after two weeks, I had lost my usual focus and discipline. Which he noticed.

One day he says to me:
“Mehdi, can I see you after class?”
“Yeah, sure.”

Giggling, the same idiot behind me says:
“he wants you to suck him or his dick’s gonna explode.”

At the end of class, the lecture hall empty, he sits in front of me on the edge of the desk and says:
“I’ve noticed you seem less focused in my class lately. Do you have personal problems?”

“No… not at all.”
(my eyes were fixed on his bulge, even bigger when he was sitting).

“Are you homosexual?”
“…uh, yes. Why?”
“I think I know what’s distracting you.”

And then… completely unexpectedly, still sitting, he slowly lowers the zipper of his pants. A very, very thick cock, impressively wide, comes out, already hard.

Then he says:
“Don’t ruin your studies over trivial things. You’re a promising 20-year-old man.”

“But sir…”

Then he grabs my head and gently pushes it down toward his dick:
“do what you’ve wanted to do for weeks, to get rid of those intrusive thoughts that are preventing you from focusing.”

On my knees in front of his big Algerian cock, I look at him and say:
“maybe…”

Then I start sucking him, slowly at first because it’s so thick I have to feel the size to avoid using my teeth, then I go harder, my movements becoming faster and deeper. Despite the size of that huge Maghreb cock, my technique is perfect and I don’t use my teeth.

Eyes closed in pleasure, he whispers softly:
“you suck well, slut… you should come over sometimes, I live alone.”

I lick him and reply:
“nice, you’ll give me extra lessons too.”

“Yeah… and I’m gonna fuck you good, slut.”

Then he cums, a jet so powerful it lands on the lecture hall benches all the way to the back of the room.

Very satisfied, he stands up, puts his cock away and says:
“I’ll give you my number, you call me.”

“Ok, great.”
“You liked it?”
“No… I loved it.”

“I hope after this you’ll get back to work.”
“Yeah, especially if I suck you regularly, because that’s exactly the kind of dick I need.”

Then he grabs my face, tells me “open your mouth” and spits in it.

I swallow and say:
“thank you, master.”

“You’re welcome, my little slut. Text me when you get home.”

I was happy to be a student, happy to be 20, happy to be a slut.