My Pesky Student Has The Wrong Remote!

Professor Kylie Le Beau has a secret humming between her legs. She palms the little remote, gives herself one quick buzz, then kills it and drops the thing on the desk. Class starts soon. Can't risk Aubry Babcock catching her mid-throb. Aubry breezes in for the dry-run. She’s also the TA, so her job tonight is to click the slides while Kylie practices talking over them. Aubry snatches what she thinks is the projector clicker, and Kylie steps in front of the whiteboard, back to the screen she can’t watch anyway. Aubry taps. Nothing happens on-screen, but a savage jolt slams into Kylie’s clit. Her sentence stalls mid-word. Another press, harder pulses this time. Aubry’s finger is working the toy, not the slideshow. Kylie bites the inside of her cheek, tries to soldier on, but her thighs are trembling. Aubry keeps clicking like the slide’s jammed, oblivious, every stab of the button shooting straight through Kylie’s soaked cunt. Sweat beads on her upper lip. Finally Kylie understands. She staggers over, snatches the remote, switches the torment off, chest heaving. Aubry sees everything—the flush, the wet hairline, the half-lidded stare—and asks if she’s okay. Kylie hesitates one breath, then blurts it: she’s been edging herself with the damn vibrator. Aubry’s mouth parts, shock melting into something hotter. A dark little smile curls. She wants more. She wants to see how far Kylie can go before she breaks. Kylie feels heat slam through her again, this time from the filthy promise in Aubry’s eyes. They kiss like they’ll die if they stop. Clothes hit the floor. Aubry drops to her knees, pushes Kylie’s legs apart, and buries her tongue where the toy was working minutes ago. Kylie claws the desk, moans loud enough to echo down the empty hall, coming hard and messily, already begging for round two before the first aftershocks fade.