Benedict Cumberbatch Imagines

Professor Cumberbatch~Part 2

You haven't been going to class. You couldn't! After what happened in the classroom last week, you've been afraid to. Your roommate has been filling in for you, telling Professor Cumberbatch that you've been sick.

One day, when you were in bed while you were supposed to be in your dreadfully sexy English class, there was a knock on the door. It was probably the dorm adviser "checking" on you. She knew you weren't actually sick, but she liked you enough to keep it a secret.

"Coming," you called, as you jogged over to the door. When you opened it, you weren't expecting to see the man you've been avoiding for the past week and looking extra sexy today, you might add.

"[Y/N]. I was told you were...sick, so I thought I'd stop by and give you the study guide for next week's test." He held up a few papers for you to take, while his eyes wandered all over your body.

Of course, this had to be the day you didn't have any laundry, so you sported a long shirt that reaches your knees, no bra, and a skimpy pair of panties. He couldn't see the skimpy pair, but his eyes widened a bit when he looked to your chest.

"Right," you breathed. "Thanks." You went to shut the door, but he stuck his foot out and blocked it from closing. You didn't open it back up, but rather looked at him through the gap in the doorway.

"If you don't want to be dropped from my class for several reasons, one being you lying to me and the other, you ditching for a week, then I suggest you meet me in my office tonight at six, am I clear?" You timidly nodded, making him smile and say, "Good. Oh and, um...don't bother changing."

**

What honestly made you come here? And what honestly made you wear this??

Oh, yes. You didn't want to be dropped from a class you needed to graduate and you were going to a party after your little meeting here. You wouldn't have had time to go back in change, so you just decided to put on your short skirt, cropped shirt and leather jacket with boots that reached up to our knees.

You didn't normally dress like this, but there was a theme to this party. Basically, everyone had to dress like a slut. Sounded fun, so why not?

But now you were about to face your professor who, just last week, showed disappointment in you not wanting to sleep with him. Well...not that you didn't want to.

You walked into the empty classroom and looked around. He wasn't there. His jacket and bag were by his desk, but you didn't see him. That's when a door by the board open. It was a room that had stacks of books, papers, and any essential item an English professor could need. The door blended into the wall, so everyone almost always forgot it was even there. 

When he came into view, he looked up at you, and then dropped all the papers in his arms. He didn't bother picking them up, as he was rather busy staring at your outfit. You ignored his eyes and tried to remain strong. You didn't notice that his hair was a bit messy, or that he actually had his tie off and the first three buttons of his grey shirt were unbuttoned, showing off some of his chest, or even that his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows making him instantly hotter.  

Okay, you did notice and you were practically drooling. This was your teacher for God's sakes! You can't think like this!

The tension in the room was very high. And it wasn't just any normal tension, it was clearly sexual. Both of your bodies were radiating heat that was quickly filling up the room.

"You wanted to see me," you stated, breaking the silence. His pericing blue eyes snapped up to your face. He didn't say anything, but then suddenly started charging towards you. You didn't have any time to react before he had you pushed up against the door and brought you in for a scorching kiss. 

You didn't have any problem kissing back, but now your mind was reeling with emotions and possibilites. What if you get caught? Does he want this to go any further? Is this just for your grade? What is going on??

You put your hands on his broad chest and pushed him back, causing him to growl in protest from the lack of contact with your lips. "We can't," you panted. "We...we'll--." He cut you off with another kiss, but then pulled back and said, "I promise we won't. That friend of yours and Tom have been going at it for nearly a year and no one suspects a thing." 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! "Fuck it," you breathed. You pulled him to you by the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He moaned and moved one hand down your side, while the other raked through your hair. You tried to open your mouth to catch your breath, but he plunged his tonuge in your mouth before you could. 

You both stood there like that for nearly fifteen minutes, just making out like a couple horny teenagers. He eventually broke off the kiss and yanked you over to his desk. He lifted you up, so you were perched on the edge of it and stood back to admire you.

Your skin was flushed, your lips were swollen and smeared with lipstick from his scorching kisses, your breasts were rising and falling with your heavy breaths, your legs were parted, and your hair was a mess. Oh yes. He liked this. 

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" He purred. "Since the first day you walked into my class, Ms. [L/N]. And now I have you. I finally have you." With that he stood in between your legs and started kissing you again. This time, his hands worked their way up your thighs, until your skirt was pooled around your stomach. 

He pulled back from the kiss and looked down. He whimpered at the sight of your black laced panties. "Fucking hell." He traced his finger around the edges, and then right down the middle. You gasped and bucked your hips up to feel more pressure, but he took his finger away and gave you a smirk. 

"Did you wear this all for me?" He asked. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Oh please," you told him. "I'm going to a party and the theme is Sluts, so don't flatter yourself, Professor." 

He narrowed his eyes at you, then gripped tightly at your jaw. "Your mouth is going to get you in a lot of trouble, young lady. Luckily, I know one way to shut it up." He backed up from you, then started unbuckling his belt. 

"Get on your knees, under my desk," he harshly ordered.

Seriously, what happened to your nice, dorky teacher?