SMASH or PASS

As the student rep pulled off my dick with a wet pop, gasping, the dynamic in the room shifted. The pretense of a disciplinary action melted away completely, revealing the raw, competitive hunger underneath.

"My turn," Professor Linara said, her voice tight. She reached for me, but Professor Aris intercepted her hand.

"Patience, Linara," Aris said, her stern face flushed. "Seniority has its privileges. And I have waited the longest." There was a bitter edge to her words.

"Your patience is noted," the dean’s voice cut through, cold and authoritative even with her pussy still dripping from my mouth. She pushed herself up off my face, leaving me gasping. "But ultimate authority is mine." She stood, naked and magnificent, and looked at the other women. "The risk is on my shoulders. The marquis’s letter lands on my desk. Therefore, I will assess the asset first. Fully."

A tense silence fell. Linara’s jaw tightened. Aris looked away, resentment simmering. Even the student rep pouted. But none of them challenged her. The dean’s power in this room, even naked, was absolute.

She turned to me, her eyes like chips of ice behind her fogged glasses. She placed one high-heeled foot on the seat of my chair between my thighs, then gracefully swung her other leg over, straddling me. My manacled hands were still locked to the chair, useless at my sides.

She looked down at me, a queen mounting her throne. "You see?" she murmured, her voice dripping with contemptuous satisfaction. "Even among whores, there is a hierarchy." She reached between her legs, took my still-hard, spit-slick cock in her hand, and guided it to her entrance. Then, without breaking eye contact, she sank down.

It was a slow, controlled, devastating descent. She was tight, impossibly so, and so wet it was almost violent. She took every inch, her lips parting in a silent gasp as she bottomed out, her ass pressing against my thighs.

For a moment, she just sat there, impaled, letting us both feel the sheer, overwhelming fullness. Then she began to move.

It wasn’t frantic. It was regal. A slow, deep, grinding roll of her hips. Each movement dragged her sensitive walls along my length. Her head fell back, her whisky-colored hair spilling down her back.

"Nhnnn~" she moaned, the sound long and low. Her hands came to rest on my shoulders, her nails digging in. "Yes... this is... adequate."

She picked up the pace, her hips rising and falling with more force. The wet slap of our joining filled the room. The other women watched, some touching themselves, others just staring with naked envy.

"Better..." the dean panted, her composure cracking with each downward plunge. "So much better than my useless husband... his pathetic, soft... nngh!... little thing..."

She rode me harder, her tits bouncing, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. The disdain in her words was fuel. "Keep... moving... you commoner... brute! Give me... what he... never could! AH!"

She was losing herself, the careful control shattering. Her moans became louder, more desperate. "Fuck! Yes! Right there! Use it! Use your dick like the... the cheap... stick it is! Nnnnggghyeah!"

Her inner walls began to flutter, then clamp down in a vicious, milking rhythm. She was close. So was I. The sight of her, this powerful, icy woman coming apart on my cock, watched by her subordinates... was too much.

With a final, guttural cry that was pure, unvarnished need, she slammed down onto me, grinding hard as her orgasm ripped through her. The convulsions of her pussy triggered mine. I came deep inside her, my own shout muffled by the sheer force of her climax.

She collapsed forward, her sweaty forehead resting against mine, her body shuddering. For a long moment, the only sound was our panting.

Then she slowly, regally, lifted herself off me. My cum dripped from her, marking her claim. She looked at the other women, her expression haughty and satisfied.

"Your turn," she said, stepping aside on slightly shaky legs. "Try not to break him. He still has... payments to make."

The moment the dean stepped aside, the fragile truce shattered.

Professor Linara lunged, a predator’s grace in her nakedness, her eyes locked on me like I was the last drink in a desert. "Mine," she breathed, her hand reaching for my cock, still slick with the dean’s juices.

A cold, strong hand closed around Linara’s wrist like a vise. Professor Aris stood there, her stern face set in lines of iron determination. Her gray-streaked hair was disheveled, her naked body lean and tense. "It’s my turn now," she stated, her voice low and final.

Linara’s pretty face twisted into a snarl. "Your turn? What fucking turn? What are you going to do with it anyway, you dried-up old bitch? Try to remember how it works?" Her words were venomous, the heat of lust curdling into pure spite.

Damn. Even I was surprised.

Aris’s eyes flashed. "You vapid little slut. All tits and no tenure. You think just because you spread your legs for the old Duke you get to cut the line?"

"At least I have someone to spread them for, you bitter hag! Your last fuck was so long ago they were still using stone tablets!"

"Why you—!"

They descended into a hissing, scratching, naked catfight right there on the conference room floor, two respected academics reduced to trading insults that would make a dockside whore blush. They shoved at each other, their breasts bouncing, their carefully maintained personas utterly obliterated by raw, jealous hunger.

The dean watched, a faint, amused smile playing on her lips. She leaned back against the table, crossing her arms under her heavy breasts. "Enough," she said, the word cutting through their spat. They froze, glaring at each other. The dean’s gaze settled on Aris. "Aris goes first. She’s waited. And she’s right about seniority."

Linara looked like she’d been slapped, but she took a furious step back, her fists clenched.

Aris didn’t waste a second. Victory flushed her cheeks. She dropped to her knees between my splayed, manacuffed legs, and took my dick into her mouth with a desperate, hungry groan.

She was ravenous. No teasing, no technique, just a deep, guttural need. She bobbed her head frantically, taking me deep into her throat with a series of wet, choking gulps. *Gurk. Schlorp. Gulp.* It was messy, almost violent. "So long... gods, it’s been so fucking long..." she moaned around me, the vibrations intense.

After only a few frantic sucks, she pulled off, saliva and pre-cum stringing from her lips. She scrambled up, positioned herself over me, and sank down onto my shaft in one frantic, unceremonious plunge.

"UNNHH!" she cried out, her head thrown back, her body trembling. "F-filled! Finally!"

She began to ride me, her movements jerky and desperate, her bony hips slapping against mine. "Yes! Yes! Take it, you young stallion! Give it to this old mare! Nnngh!"

Linara watched, seething, her own hand rubbing furiously between her legs. "Hurry up, you desperate crone! You’re going to chafe him!"

Aris ignored her, lost in the sensation, her moans growing louder, more shattered. "Ah! Ah! Right there! Don’t stop!"

That was when Linara snapped.

With a wordless shriek of pure frustration, she didn’t go for Aris. She went for the chair. She planted her hands on the high back of the heavy wooden chair I was shackled to and shoved with all her might.

The chair tipped backwards. My world upended. Aris, still impaled on me, screamed as we crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs. The impact drove my dick impossibly deeper into her, a brutal, unforgiving slam against her cervix.

"NNNGGGHE~!!" Aris’s scream was a raw, ragged thing of pure shock and overwhelming sensation. Her body convulsed violently, a sudden, squirting orgasm ripped from her by the sheer, painful depth of the impact. She shuddered, gasping, pinned between me and the floor.

"What are you doing, you crazy bitch!?" Aris finally shrieked, tears in her eyes from the sudden, intense climax.

Linara didn’t answer. She didn’t even look at Aris. Her eyes were only on me. With the chair on its back and me trapped beneath it and a stunned Aris, Linara saw her opening.

She stepped over Aris’s trembling legs, turned her back to me, and lowered herself. Not onto my face this time. She aimed her huge, pale, perfect ass right for my head and sat down, burying my face completely in the soft, suffocating warmth of her cheeks.

"Mine," she growled, grinding her ass against my mouth and nose, cutting off my air, claiming her prize in the most dominant, degrading way possible.

Darkness. The warm, plush, suffocating darkness of Linara’s ass engulfed my face. I could barely breathe, the air thick with the scent of her skin and sex. Muffled sounds of the ongoing chaos reached me.

Then Linara’s voice, vibrating through her body right into my skull, loud and taunting. "Nnngh~ Hey, Aris... did you know... ah!... that your precious old Duke? The one who hasn’t touched you in... what, twenty years? Hnng~ He visits my townhouse... every Tuesday."

Aris, who was still partially sprawled on top of me, her body clenching rhythmically from her forced orgasm, went rigid. Then she exploded. "YOU LYING WHORE!" she shrieked, trying to push herself up, her bony fingers clawing at Linara’s thigh. "He wouldn’t! He’s devoted to—!"

"To his reputation," Linara ground out, shifting her weight to grind harder against my face. "Not to your dried-up cunt, you pathetic hag. Nnnn~ He likes them young. And tight. And enthusiastic."

’Are they really having their decades-old marital drama while using me as a fuck-toy?’ The thought was almost hysterical. I was pinned, face-deep in ass, listening to a catfight for the ages.

"You... you poisoned him! You seduced him with your... your slutty witchcraft!" Aris sobbed, her anger turning to a wounded, furious despair. She started moving again, not with pleasure now, but with a frantic, punishing rhythm, slamming herself down onto my cock as if she could fuck the truth out of existence. "He’s mine! You ruin everything!"

"Ah!~ Oh, I ruin it?" Linara moaned, her voice dripping with malicious pleasure. She reached back, her fingers digging into my hair, holding my face deeper into her crease. "He came to me, darling. Begging for it. Said his wife was a cold, starched relic. Nhnnn~ Just like you’re acting now. No wonder he’d rather pay a mistress than look at you."

"I’LL KILL YOU!" Aris screamed, her riding becoming wild, erratic. Each downward slam was a punishment. For Linara. For her husband. For me. Her moans were ragged sobs of rage. "Nnggh! You... bitch! Hn! I’ll have you... expelled!"

Linara just laughed, a breathy, triumphant sound. "Try it. He’ll quash it. He likes his toys where he can see them." She leaned forward, putting more pressure on my face, and her tone shifted, becoming possessive and aimed at me. "And this toy is my new favorite. So why don’t you finish your pathetic little ride and fuck off, you old relic? Let the real women play."

Aris, enraged beyond words, could only respond with her body. She pounded down on me with a final, furious series of thrusts, her nails scratching my chest. "Take it! Take all my... Nnnggghe~, you... commoner stud! NNNNGGGHYEAAAAH!"

She came again, a harsh, angry climax that squeezed my dick like a vise, her body shaking with sobs and tremors. Spent, she collapsed sideways off of me, rolling onto the floor, weeping with a mixture of bitter release and utter humiliation.

Linara, victorious, finally lifted her weight off my face. I gasped, drawing in a huge lungful of cool air. She turned, still on her knees, and looked down at me with glittering, possessive eyes. She stroked my cheek, sticky with her sweat.

"See?" she purred, leaning down to lick a stripe up my neck. "I really like you. My favorite toy. So much more... reactive than that old Duke." She positioned herself over my mouth again, this time lowering her soaked, needy pussy onto my tongue. "Now... let’s clean up the mess that bitter old bitch left behind. Nhnnn~ And then... it’s my turn to ride you properly."

The dean and the student representative watched from the sidelines, the former amused, the latter eagerly touching herself, the entire ethics committee reduced to a naked, moaning, backstabbing spectacle, with me as the hapless, hard-working centerpiece.