Chapter Text
The lecture stand is a bit too tall, much to Addison's chagrin; he's unable to fully bend over it like he could a desk, and every forceful thrust of Professor Moriarty's sends him arching up on his tiptoes, before sliding back down the slanted wood, flush against his cock. Addison's vocal chords jump in his throat as he gnaws at his bottom lip to unsuccessfully stifle his moans. Just because the lecture hall isn't booked doesn't mean that it's sure to be deserted. Any moment, the door could open to some hapless student looking for a lost pencil, or a quiet study spot, and instead find quiet, timid James from Calc III being split apart by his major advisor. The thought has Addison's hands white-knuckled as they grip the edges of the stand, out of fear, arousal, or both.
Professor Moriarty's fingertips are white as well, though for completely different reasons, as he pries Addison's mouth open and pushes two into his lips. Immediately, Addison tastes chalk- the professor is old school like that, preferring chalk to whiteboards and markers- and although he hates the tackiness of it, he gathers saliva in his mouth and slurps at the fingers like his life depends on it. Which it very well might.
Professor Moriarty's breakthrough research on Galois' theory was what earned him his tenure, and the university math department's greatest achievement. It was what drew Addison, as well as countless others, to this school, hoping to soak up the knowledge from one of the world's leading mathematical minds who still bothered to properly teach. Addison knows how rare undergrad research positions are in his field, and how coveted his post is. While fucking a student is one of the few grounds for revoking tenure, it's far more likely that if anyone found out, James would be simply swept under the rug in favor of preserving the math faculty star's sterling reputation.
Not that Addison plans on letting that happen, of course. Transferring or dropping out is one thing, but Addison couldn't bear to hurt the professor's research, not could he bear to be replaced with some other faceless undergrad with less brains than him. Addison isn't a particularly proud boy- at least, not more so than most first year students who gain miraculous research positions with celebrity academics- but with Professor Moriarty's close tutelage and his own natural smarts, he's sure that his proofs can intellectually run circles around any of his third or fourth-year classmates. Not to mention none of them could take the professor's cock half as well.
Addison's drool pools at the corners of his lips and drips down his chin as the professor's fingers scissor in his mouth, like a facsimile of the kisses that he never gives him. Along with it spills the gasps and moans of everything that Professor Moriarty loves to hear. "Professor, aah, it's so good, it's too much, more, more, more, nnngh-"
He can feel the professor's cock twitch inside him as he leans in to whisper against Addison's ear in the same low, silky tone that he uses in lectures, instructing him to spread his legs at a wider angle, to clench down on the tip every time he pulls out. Every hard snap of his hips lifts Addison nearly up off the ground as he struggles to comply with the professor's commands. He almost gets the hang of it, just barely scrounging up enough coordination and focus in the endorphin-high slurry of his brain, before Professor Moriarty immediately changes the game, flipping him so his back is on the lecture stand and his dick is bared to the professor's view as it bounces with every thrust.
Addison immediately wraps his legs around Professor's Moriarty's waist, torso curling upwards as he latches onto the professor's broad shoulders, and whines with abandon as he's rewarded with a hand closing tight around his cock.
Few students should be so lucky to receive such personal attention from their academic advisor.