Extra Credit
A few days had passed since the wild night at Brock’s apartment. The rest of the floor acted like nothing had happened. Nate and Liam joked about “that crazy party” in the lounge but never mentioned the carpet, the cum, or the way they’d all piled on top of each other. Mason blushed and changed the subject whenever it came up. Riley and Zach convinced themselves the memories were just beer-fueled dreams. Everyone went to class, hit the gym, and pretended freshman life was perfectly normal.
Jack and Tyler, however, had been sleeping together every night since move-in—in Jack’s bed. The once-clean sheets were now a permanent yellowish crust of dried cum, sweat, and spit, stiff in some places and still tacky in others.
Tyler woke up first that morning, his thick cock still buried deep inside Jack’s warm, cum-filled ass. He groaned softly, gave one lazy thrust, then slowly slid out. A thick glob of his overnight load followed, oozing from Jack’s puffy pink hole and dripping onto the ruined sheets.
Jack turned over with a sleepy, sweet smile, big blue puppy-dog eyes blinking open. “Morning…” he whispered, and pulled Tyler into a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues slid together, slow and hungry, tasting the remnants of last night while their hard cocks rubbed between their bodies.
Jack’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He broke the kiss just long enough to glance at the screen.
“It’s Brock,” he said softly.
Tyler smirked, kissed Jack one more time, then rolled out of bed. Thick ropes of cum immediately started dripping down the inside of his thighs as he padded naked toward the showers. “Tell him I said hi,” he called over his shoulder, ass still shiny and leaking.
Jack answered with that innocent little lilt in his voice. “Hey, Brock.”
The big senior’s deep voice rumbled through the speaker. “Hey, cutie. Got a home game this weekend. You should come. Alone. I’ve got a special treat for you after—something the rest of the team’s gonna love watching.” He chuckled low and dirty. “Think you can handle it?”
Jack’s enormous cock twitched against his belly. “I’d love that,” he said sweetly. “See you there.”
Jack and Tyler headed to class like any other day. Jack’s Human Sexuality lecture was late in the afternoon. He showed up in his favorite outfit for days like this: a loose white tank top with completely open sides that left his smooth armpits, tender pink nipples, and hairless chest fully on display. Below that he wore skin-tight black bicycle shorts that clung obscenely to the thick outline of his dick and heavy balls. Simple flip-flops on his pretty feet completed the look.
After class, while the other students filed out, Jack lingered at the front of the lecture hall, pretending to study his notes.
Professor Davies was exactly what the course promised: a huge, burly middle-aged man in fantastic shape—broad shoulders, thick chest straining his button-down, powerful arms, and a gregarious, booming laugh that filled the room. He looked like he practiced every technique he taught.
“Something I can help you with, Jack?” Professor Davies asked, voice warm and friendly as he stacked his papers.
Jack looked up with those big blue puppy-dog eyes, biting his lower lip shyly. “I’m… having a little trouble understanding some of the lecture, Professor. Especially the part about intergenerational attraction. Is it really okay for a teenager to… you know… be with a man old enough to be his father? Like, physically? Emotionally?”
The questions grew more pointed, more explicit. Jack leaned forward on the desk, the open sides of his tank top gaping wider, exposing the soft pink buds of his nipples and the smooth hollows of his armpits. His clingy bicycle shorts left nothing to the imagination—the heavy bulge of his cock and balls clearly outlined, the fabric already starting to darken with a tiny wet spot.
Professor Davies’s eyes kept drifting. He tried to stay professional, but his gaze lingered on Jack’s tender nipples, the hairless chest, the smooth pits, the prominent bulge, and especially those creamy white thighs and shapely calves that ended in beautiful, exposed feet in the flip-flops.
Jack knew exactly what he was doing. He adjusted his bulge casually with one hand, then lifted both arms to stretch, giving the professor a full view of his smooth, faintly musky pits. Finally he slipped his right foot out of the flip-flop, letting the warm, musky scent of his sweaty sole waft upward.
“Professor?” Jack asked sweetly, voice soft and innocent. “I was wondering if I could get some extra credit. I’ll do… whatever you ask.”
Professor Davies stammered, face flushing. “Jack, I— that’s not really—”
Jack didn’t wait. He stepped around the desk, reached out, and boldly grabbed the front of the older man’s slacks, feeling the massive, thickening cock beneath.
The professor’s resistance crumbled in seconds.
What followed was filthy, passionate, and intensely erotic—right there in the empty lecture hall with the door unlocked and the blinds only half-drawn, letting thin strips of afternoon sunlight cut across the room. Professor Davies, true to his subject, treated the moment like an advanced demonstration in Human Sexuality.
He grabbed Jack by the hips and spun the boy around, bending him over the front lecture desk. With a low growl, the burly professor yanked those tight bicycle shorts down just enough to expose Jack’s perfect, milky-white little hand-sized ass. The clingy fabric caught around the boy’s smooth thighs, framing the smooth, hairless cheeks beautifully.
“Lesson one,” Professor Davies rumbled, his deep voice thick with lust, “proper rimming technique.”
He dropped to his knees behind Jack, spread the boy’s cheeks wide with both big hands, and buried his face between them. His thick, hungry tongue dragged slowly up the smooth cleft before circling the tight pink pucker with expert precision. Jack let out a soft, breathy moan, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk as the professor licked him with long, sloppy strokes—lapping at the sensitive hole, then stiffening his tongue and pushing it deep inside.
The professor ate him out like a man who knew exactly what he was doing, alternating between broad, wet licks and deep, probing thrusts of his tongue. He groaned loudly into Jack’s ass, the vibrations traveling straight through the boy’s body. One of his big hands reached around to stroke Jack’s leaking cock through the stretched fabric of the bicycle shorts while the other kept those perfect cheeks spread wide.
“See how I’m opening you up with my tongue?” the professor murmured between long, filthy licks, his voice muffled against Jack’s hole. “That’s how you get a boy nice and relaxed… ready for more.”
Jack’s knees trembled, soft whimpers falling from his lips as the older man devoured him with expert hunger. The wet, obscene sounds of the professor’s tongue fucking in and out of his tight little hole echoed through the quiet lecture hall.
Then Professor Davies stood up, his massive cock springing free — thick, veiny, and obscenely huge, the fat head already glistening with pre-cum. He gripped Jack’s narrow hips, lined himself up, and slid into the boy raw in one long, relentless thrust.
Jack’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp as the professor’s thick cock stretched him wide, sinking all the way in until his heavy balls pressed against Jack’s smooth ass.
“And this,” Davies growled, voice low and rough, “is what deep prostate stimulation feels like, boy.”
He fucked Jack hard and deep, demonstrating every angle, every rhythm, every way to make a younger partner lose his mind. He started with long, powerful strokes that dragged his fat cockhead right across Jack’s prostate on every pass. Then he switched to short, brutal thrusts that hammered the sensitive spot relentlessly. Jack moaned loudly, pushing back greedily against every thrust, his big blue eyes fluttering with that wondrous, innocent expression even as his body shook with pleasure.
“Mmm… yeah… just like that…” Jack whimpered breathily, his voice soft and sweet. “Fuck… you’re so deep…”
They switched positions.
Jack climbed onto the professor’s lap in the desk chair, facing away from him in reverse-cowgirl. He sank down onto the thick cock again, moaning as it filled him completely. He rode Davies with slow, rolling movements at first, then faster and harder, his perfect little ass bouncing and jiggling with every downward slam. The professor’s big hands gripped Jack’s narrow waist, helping him bounce while he growled filthy praise.
Later they moved to the floor. Davies laid Jack on his back in missionary so he could watch those big blue puppy-dog eyes while he fucked him. He pounded the boy mercilessly, hips snapping forward as he pumped load after load deep into Jack’s guts. Jack came twice — once hands-free while getting railed, his thick cock pulsing and shooting long ropes of cum across his own smooth chest and the professor’s shirt. The second time he came while swallowing the older man’s cock to the root, throat visibly bulging around the thick shaft as he moaned and spurted again.
The professor wasn’t finished demonstrating.
He pulled Jack into a filthy sixty-nine on the floor, fingering the boy’s cum-filled hole while Jack sucked him off with eager, sloppy devotion. They traded loads back and forth — mutual creampies, snowballing thick globs of cum between their mouths, and even more cum painted across their sweat-slick bodies. By the end of the long, intense session both men were completely covered in sweat and sperm. Professor Davies had unloaded deep inside Jack three separate times, and Jack had painted the older man’s hairy chest and face with two more heavy loads of his own.
When it was finally over, Jack stood up on shaky legs, his body glistening with sweat and cum. His little pink starfish was completely wrecked — gaping, puffy, and leaking thick white ropes of the professor’s sperm that ran freely down the insides of his smooth thighs.
His bicycle shorts were still tangled around one ankle where Davies had yanked them down earlier. Jack bent over slowly, giving the older man one last perfect view of his cum-dripping hole, then stepped into the shorts and pulled them up. The tight black fabric immediately soaked through as fresh cum continued to ooze out of him, creating a large, dark wet spot that spread visibly across the crotch and the seat of the shorts. There was no hiding it.
Jack turned around, his face flushed and glowing, and gave Professor Davies one last soft, sweet smile — that same angelic, puppy-dog expression he’d worn the entire time he was getting railed.
“Thank you for the extra credit, Professor,” he said innocently, voice still a little breathy. “I learned a lot today.”
Davies, still sprawled naked and spent on the floor, could only stare at the beautiful, cum-soaked boy in stunned silence.
Jack gave him a small wave, then slipped out of the lecture hall, the wet spot on his shorts growing darker with every step as more cum leaked out of his ruined hole. He hurried back toward the dorms, feeling the warm, sticky mess squelch between his cheeks with each stride.
Tyler was just coming out of the shower when Jack slipped into their room, the huge wet patch on his bicycle shorts glistening obscenely.
Tyler took one look, burst out laughing, and pointed at the dripping mess. “Jesus, Jack. What kind of extracurricular activities did you get into this time?”
“I’m basically a walking evidence bag at this point,” Jack quipped with a knowing smile as another thick glob of the professor’s cum slowly leaked down the inside of his thigh.
While Tyler was still chuckling, Jack shed the sticky shorts and flopped on his bed. He pulled out his phone and opened YouTube, gently tugging at his smooth plump balls as he watched a video of a guy methodically tearing apart an old truck engine.
It was an especially good day.
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