TAs office hours

Everyone is 18+I stayed behind after the lecture, the sound of the last few students shuffling out echoing off the walls. My palms were sweating, heart beating too fast for someone who was just “needing help with a question.” I wasn’t even sure what I’d ask, maybe something about last week’s material, but that wasn’t really the point.He was standing at the front of the room, packing up his laptop, tall and lean in that way that made his dress shirts always look a little too tight across his chest. Alex, our TA, was probably only a few years older than me, mid twenties but carried himself like he owned every room he walked into.I cleared my throat.He looked up, eyes catching mine. “Need something?”His tone was neutral, but the way his gaze lingered told a different story. There’d been tension between us all semester. The kind you pretend isn’t there, just so it doesn’t eat you alive.“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just…a question about the last assignment.”“Sure,” he said. He gestured to the first row of seats. “Take a seat.”I dropped into the chair, watching as he came around to sit on the edge of the desk in front of me, legs spread slightly, tie loosened. His sleeves were rolled up, forearms flexing slightly as he rested his hands on his thighs.“Alright,” he said. “Let’s hear it.”I paused, swallowed. “Actually… it’s not about the assignment.”He raised an eyebrow.“I think,” I said, voice low, “we’ve been pretending something isn’t happening. And I kind of don’t want to pretend anymore.”There was a long silence. His eyes scanned my face, then drifted lower.“Close the door,” he said quietly.I stood, walked to the door, and turned the lock. When I turned back around, he was still watching me, his expression darker now. Hungrier.“You’ve been pushing it for weeks,” he said. “Those looks. Staying after class. Asking questions you already know the answers to.”I didn’t deny it.He stood and walked toward me, slowly, like he was giving me time to back out. I didn’t move.“Is this what you want? You want to know what it’s like to be bent over the front row while your classmates walk past outside?”I nodded, my throat dry.He kissed me hard, one hand gripping the back of my neck, the other already pulling my shirt up. I gasped into his mouth as he walked me backward, guiding me until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the desk.“Pants off,” he ordered.I obeyed, heart pounding, cock already straining in my underwear. He stepped back just enough to watch me undress, eyes heavy and focused. Once I was down to my briefs, he pushed me gently onto the desk, flipping me so I was facedown against the cool wood.The rustle of his own belt being undone sent a thrill down my spine.“Tell me if you want to stop,” he said, voice low in my ear.“I won’t,” I said.He laughed, just once. “Cocky. Let’s see how long that lasts.”The first smack came fast and sharp, open-palmed across my ass. I jolted forward, moaning without meaning to.“That get your attention?”“Yes.”Another smack. Then another. His hand alternated between soothing strokes and punishing slaps until I was squirming, hips grinding against the desk, desperate and leaking.“Look at you,” he muttered, fingers sliding beneath the waistband of my underwear and pulling them down. “Rock hard just from getting spanked.”He pressed in close, the head of his cock sliding against my hole, teasing.“Please,” I whispered.“Not yet.”He reached for his bag, rummaged for a moment, then came back with a condom and a tiny bottle of lube. Efficient. Like he’d considered this possibility before.When he finally pushed in, it was slow, like he wanted me to feel every inch. I cried out, grabbing the edge of the desk, breath shallow.“Good boy,” he murmured. “Taking me so well.”The rhythm started slow but built fast. He pounded into me with deep, brutal strokes, one hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my hip tight enough to bruise. The desk creaked under us, every thrust echoing off the high lecture hall walls.“Anyone could walk by,” he whispered in my ear. “Could hear the way you moan for me. Is that what you want? To be caught like a little slut?”“Yes,” I gasped. “Fuck, yes.”His hand slipped around, stroking my cock in time with his thrusts. I was already close, too worked up from the spanking and the dirty talk and the sheer thrill of being used like this.“Cum for me,” he growled. “Now.”I did. Hard. My entire body tensed, the orgasm ripping through me, white-hot and shaking over the desk. He followed a few seconds later with a low groan, collapsing over my back, hips jerking through the last few thrusts.For a moment, we were both quiet.Then he pulled out, cleaned us up as best he could with tissues from his bag, helped me stand.We got dressed slowly, eyes meeting a few times, awkward smiles exchanged.“You ever need…extra help,” he said, adjusting his shirt, “you know where to find me.”I grinned. “Office hours?”He winked. “Office hours.”