What My Trans Professor Was Hiding on That Rainy Night

My name is Marina, and I’m twenty years old. I’m a redhead with very fair skin and freckles I hated as a teenager but don’t mind showing anymore. I have a large chest, wide hips, and a mouth that, people tell me, always looks as if it’s about to say something it shouldn’t. And all that semester, I was in love with my professor.

Her name was Valeria. She taught Literature at the university and was around thirty. She was dark-haired, with brown hair falling to her shoulders, and a body that seemed designed to distract half the class: large tits she always kept covered up to her neck, a narrow waist, and hips that swayed when she walked between the desks as if she knew exactly what she was provoking. I spent class squeezing my thighs together beneath the desk, imagining myself on my knees in front of her.

It happened a few months ago, on a Friday when I stayed behind in the classroom to finish an assignment. When I left, it was almost night, and I saw her in the parking lot struggling with a stack of folders slipping from her arms.

—Professor, can I help you? —I asked, walking over before I could think better of it.

—Please —she replied, letting out a small smile of relief—. And call me Valeria. Outside the classroom, being called “professor” sounds strange.

—What’s all this? —I asked, taking half the stack.

—Exams. From three classes. I have to grade them by Monday, and I haven’t even started.

—All of them by yourself? —The formal “you” slipped out again, and she laughed.

—All by myself. Welcome to academic life.

That was when I saw it clearly. The opportunity I’d been waiting months for without daring to look for it.

—I can give you a hand if you want. I don’t have anything to do this weekend, and grading isn’t that hard.

She looked at me for a second, as if judging whether I was serious.

—Really? I swear, if you help me, I’ll owe you my life. Get in, I’ll drive you.

***

I sat in the passenger seat with my heart pounding against my ribs. Up close, I could look at her better than I’d ever allowed myself to in class. She was wearing a tight blue dress that reached her knees, sheer stockings, and heels I couldn’t understand how she was still managing after a whole day. She smelled of something warm, vanilla and something else I couldn’t name. I was wearing a loose black dress with flowers, far too plain next to hers, and suddenly I became aware of every inch of my body.

Her apartment was fifteen minutes away. We carried the folders upstairs, left them on the dining-room table, and got to work right away. She explained the grading criteria, handed me a red pen, and we divided the stacks. I was so nervous that I graded the first three exams without understanding a thing I was reading.

But little by little, I relaxed. Every so often we stopped to stretch our backs, comment on the most ridiculous answers, or laugh at some student’s impossible handwriting. She asked me about myself, what I wanted to study, and why I always sat in the back. I lied about the last one. I didn’t tell her that I sat in the back so I could look at her without being noticed, stare at her ass when she bent down to pick up a piece of chalk, or squeeze my thighs when she ran her tongue over her lips.

It took hours. She had more exams than I’d thought, and although one part of me wanted to finish quickly so I wouldn’t make her lose the whole night, another part prayed they would never run out. When we graded the last one, I realized it had started raining hard outside. Not a drizzle: a storm strong enough to empty the streets.

—Wow —I said, looking out the window.

—You’re not planning to leave in this, are you?

—Where else am I supposed to go? —I laughed, shrugging.

—Stay. Seriously. I have a guest room, and I’ll drive you home early tomorrow. I’m not going to let you walk through this downpour.

I nodded, trying to look calm, as if people invited me to spend the night every day. Inside, I was about to jump for joy. I texted my parents that I was staying at a friend’s house and put my phone away before my hands could start trembling.

***

Valeria made two teas, and we sat on the sofa to talk. The conversation changed on its own, becoming slower and more intimate. She told me things about herself that she never mentioned in class: that she had moved to the city alone, that she found it hard to trust people, that sometimes she felt more comfortable with her books than with other people. I listened to her and thought I would give anything for her to keep talking to me like that, in a low voice, with her knees almost brushing mine.

When it got late, she lent me a T-shirt to sleep in and told me the guest-room bed was hard, so I’d be better off sleeping with her, since hers was huge. She said it as if it were nothing, but something in her tone made me understand that it wasn’t only about comfort.

We got into her bed and ended up facing each other, almost by accident. We kept talking in whispers, with fewer and fewer words and more and more silences. During one of those silences, she raised her hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Her finger lingered on my cheek a moment too long.

And then she kissed me.

It was a gentle kiss, the kind that gives no warning, the kind that feels like a question. I answered immediately, taking her face in both hands so she wouldn’t regret it, so she wouldn’t stop. The kiss deepened, her tongue slipping into my mouth, searching for mine, slowly sucking it, and I felt her hand slide down my side to the hem of the T-shirt.

She took it off me slowly, and I pulled down the zipper of the nightgown she had put on, until we were both in our underwear. She was wearing a black lace set: bra, panties, and stockings reaching halfway up her thighs. I had on a pink bra and matching panties, and suddenly I felt naked long before I actually was.

Her mouth traveled down my neck, biting me slowly, sucking my skin until she left marks, moving over my collarbone while her hand traced my waist. She unclasped my bra in one tug and pulled it off, leaving my tits free, my nipples already hard. She stared at them for a second, lips parted, before lowering her head and sucking them. She took them fully into her mouth, nibbled them, licked them in circles, and I buried my fingers in her hair, unable to hold back my moans. I stroked her back, the curve of her hip, that body I had imagined so many times in class without daring to think about it all the way.

When her hand slipped inside my panties, she laughed softly against my breast.

—You’re soaked, baby —she whispered—. All wet for me.

—I’ve been like this for months because of you —I answered, my voice trembling as her fingers parted the lips of my pussy and began rubbing my clitoris with her fingertip, in slow circles, pressing in exactly the right place. A long moan escaped me against her shoulder. She slipped in one finger, then two, and started fucking me with her hand while her thumb kept pressing against my clitoris. I raised my hips to drive them deeper, panting against her neck, feeling my pussy squeeze around her fingers.

I did the same. I slid my hand over her stomach and moved down toward the black lace, expecting to find what I had taken for granted, what I had fantasized about tasting so many nights. But my fingers encountered something different. Something hard, tense beneath the fabric. I opened my eyes.

—What…? —I blurted out.

Valeria went very still. The light coming in from the street illuminated only half her face.

—I’m sorry —she murmured, and for the first time I saw uncertainty in her—. I thought… I should have told you earlier. I’m trans, Marina.

***

I was speechless for a few seconds. Not from disgust or fear. It was simply that I had imagined that moment a thousand ways, and none of them had been this. I saw her begin to sit up, reaching for the nightgown at the edge of the bed, ready to get dressed and end the night with the expression of someone accustomed to being rejected.

I didn’t let her. I put my hand on her chest and pushed her back against the pillow.

—You’re beautiful —I told her—. I like you. I’ve liked you since the first day. Don’t get dressed. And now I want to suck your cock.

Something loosened in her eyes. She smiled at me with a mixture of relief and desire I had never seen before, and kissed me again, this time without restraint, biting my lip and pushing her tongue all the way into my mouth.

I moved down her body, kissing her neck, sucking each of her tits, gently biting her nipples until I heard her moan, licking her stomach until I reached the black lace. I hooked my fingers into her panties and slowly pulled them down, sliding them off her legs until she was completely naked. And I saw all of her: her hard, thick cock, tense against her stomach, throbbing, with a shining drop at the tip waiting for me. My mouth watered.

I was nervous, and she watched me while holding her breath, so I took it in my hand, wrapped my fingers around it, and felt how hot it was, how it pulsed against my palm. I moved my hand up and down slowly, looking into her eyes, until a moan escaped her. Then I bent down and ran my tongue along its entire length, from the base to the tip, gathering up that salty drop.

—Oh God —she whispered, throwing her head back.

I took it fully into my mouth, or as much as I could, and began sucking it as gently as I was able. Her moan was the most exciting sound I had ever heard in my life. Deep, restrained, slipping between her teeth. I started slowly, attentive to her breathing and the way her thighs tensed, moving my head up and down and helping myself with one hand at the base while squeezing her balls with the other. My tongue circled her glans every time I reached the top, and she writhed against the pillow.

—That’s it, baby, just like that, don’t stop —she panted—. You suck my cock so well, my God.

One of her hands tangled in my hair, not to force me, but to caress me, barely guiding me toward what she liked best. I raised my hips without realizing it, rubbing myself against the sheet, desperate for her to touch me. With her other hand, she searched for me over my panties, rubbing exactly where I needed it, and when she felt how wet I was, she moved them aside and thrust two fingers into me. I moaned with her cock in my mouth, and she cursed under her breath.

—If you keep that up, I’m going to come in your mouth —she warned me, her voice in tatters.

I stayed like that for quite a while, listening to her moan louder and louder, sucking her deeper and deeper, feeling powerful because I was the one making her like that. Until she gently stopped me, pulled her cock from my mouth with a wet pop, made me sit up, and laid me on my back. She spread my legs wide, yanked off my panties, and lowered herself between my thighs.

When her tongue touched me, I moaned immediately. I couldn’t help it. I had spent months imagining her mouth, and reality was better than any fantasy. She opened the lips of my pussy with two fingers and licked me from top to bottom, slowly, as if savoring me. Then she focused on my clitoris, sucking it, wrapping it with her tongue, making circles and sometimes squeezing it between her lips. Meanwhile, she fingered me with two, then three fingers, searching for a spot inside me that made me arch my back sharply.

She looked up at me with those eyes that undid me in class, her mouth buried in my pussy, and I could barely hold her gaze. I buried my fingers in her hair and arched my back, pushing myself against her face. I was about to come, feeling the orgasm rise from my feet, when she pulled away, leaving me on the edge, trembling, my pussy throbbing and empty.

—Not yet —she whispered, rising to kiss me, her mouth shining with my juices.

She kissed me with the taste of us both mingled together, made me lick myself from her tongue, and I felt her brush the tip of her cock against my entrance, wetting it with my own juices.

—I don’t have any condoms —she said, her voice hoarse.

—I’m on the pill —I replied, wrapping my legs around her—. It’s okay. I want this. Fuck me.

***

She began to enter slowly, and I unclasped the bra she was still wearing. At last I saw all of her tits, the ones I had wanted all semester. Large and heavy, with dark, hard nipples. I held nothing back: I pulled her toward me and kissed them, gently bit her nipples, sucked them one by one, and felt her shudder above me as her cock forced its way inside me.

I couldn’t stop noticing the way she entered me, inch by inch, filling me in a way that made me gasp. She was thick; she stretched me, opened me, and every new millimeter drew a moan from me against her skin. I let go of her breast so I could moan while she covered my body with kisses, pausing at my tits and sucking them while she kept pushing, until she was completely inside me and I felt her balls against my ass.

—God, you’re so tight —she panted against my ear—. You’re killing me.

Then she began to move. Long, firm thrusts, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the hilt, tearing moans from me that I hadn’t known I had. The sound of our bodies colliding filled the room, mixed with the rain against the window. Sometimes she silenced me with a kiss, and as we kissed our tits rubbed and crushed against each other, while our hands never stopped roaming over us. Every so often she rose a little to look at me, to watch my body respond to every thrust, to see my tits shake with each one, and then she sped up just to watch me come undone.

She grabbed my legs, lifted them, and rested them on her shoulders. From there she fucked me even deeper, folding me in half and touching a spot inside me that made me scream.

—Yes, there, there, don’t stop —I begged, clutching the sheets.

—Do you like the way I fuck you, baby? —she asked, her voice heavy with desire—. Do you like your professor’s cock?

—Yes, yes, so much, harder —I panted, unable to think, my pussy burning around her.

She thrust harder and faster until the headboard was banging against the wall. After a while, I noticed she was out of breath.

—Are you okay? —I asked between moans.

—Yes, baby —she panted—. It’s just that my legs are killing me.

—Do you want me to move?

—Please.

She hugged me, and we rolled over until I was sitting on top of her, her cock buried to the hilt. I started slowly, getting used to the rhythm, rising and falling and feeling all of her every time, then went faster, setting the pace myself, riding her. Seeing her beneath me, moaning, her hair spread across the pillow, her tits moving with each thrust of mine and her eyes fixed on my body, turned me on more than anything. She gripped my hips with both hands, helping me drive down harder, watching my tits bounce as I rode her.

In that position I felt her even deeper, touching me all the way inside, and every time I lowered myself a new sound escaped me. I brought one hand to my clitoris and began rubbing it while I rode her, and she bit her lip as she watched me.

—That’s it, touch yourself for me —she urged, squeezing my tits and pinching my nipples—. Come on, come on top of me.

It was incredible: the woman I had silently desired for months was now looking up at me, seducing me with her eyes, her cock buried inside me, while I decided how deeply she entered. The thought of it all, of how forbidden it was, of how long I had dreamed about it, combined with my fingers on my clitoris and her cock rubbing the exact spot inside me, pushed me over the edge sooner than I expected. The orgasm shook my whole body, my thighs trembled, and my pussy clenched around her in spasms. I collapsed weakly onto her chest, moaning her name against her neck.

—Valeria… —I whispered, still trembling—. Thank you. I like you so much.

—I like you too, Marina —she replied, stroking my back—. I have for a while.

I kissed her slowly, still with her cock inside me, and felt her tense beneath me. She began thrusting upward, fucking me from below, gripping my hips to drive into me harder.

—I’m going to come —she murmured, jaw clenched.

—Inside —I whispered in her ear, squeezing my pussy around her—. I want to feel it. All of it. For our first time.

Something about that word, “first,” made her come. I felt her pulse inside me, swell, and then the hot stream filling me, one gush after another, while she moaned against my mouth and dug her fingers into my ass. I felt her empty herself completely, pulsing inside my pussy, and I squeezed against her so I wouldn’t lose a single drop. I kissed her throughout her orgasm without pulling away, swallowing her moans, until we both lay still, breathless, our bodies stuck together with sweat and her semen slowly running between my thighs as her cock finally softened inside me.

***

Afterward we lay embracing in the rumpled bed, catching our breath. She stroked my arm slowly, and I traced the shape of her collarbones with my fingertip. There was no need to say much. Sometimes the silence afterward is more honest than any words.

I fell asleep without realizing it, my head resting on her chest while the rain continued beating against the window.

That was our first night, and it wasn’t the last. Today we’re a couple, and sometimes, when she grades exams at the dining-room table, she looks up and smiles at me the way she did that night. I still sit in the back of the room when I happen to attend one of her classes. But not anymore so I can watch her in secret.