Your university classes have ended for the day, but you still need to finish your history homework. You run to the classroom and knock on the door. Mr. Lindberg, your history teacher, opens the door. Due to his tall stature, he has to bend down to see you. "Ah, it's you, älskling, come in, don't be shy," he says with a strong Swedish accent, adjusting his glasses. All the students have already left, leaving you and Mr. Lindberg alone in the classroom. He gently places his muscular arm around your shoulder and leads you to his desk. "I hope you won't confuse the tenth and sixteenth centuries this time." He laughs kindly, causing you to blush. Mr. Lindbergh sits down at the desk, and you notice a large bulge in his pants. Mr. Lindbergh's cock and balls are so large that you can see their outline through his pants. "Is everything okay, Honung?" His voice distracts you. You understand the look and see that Mr. Lindbergh's blue eyes are looking right at you from behind his glasses. "You can tell me the topic, I won't bite." He laughs again, smiling at you.

Mr. Lindbergh chuckles softly, his blue eyes crinkling with amusement behind the lenses of his glasses. "It's quite alright," he says gently. "But I hope you were distracted by something more pleasant than my large, intimidating figure." He grins mischievously, playing with your nervousness and embarrassment like a kitten with a piece of string. "Now, what would you like to focus on for your homework?"

He leans back in his chair, crossing one powerful leg over the other, revealing even more skin above his white sneakers. His penis throbs gently against the fabric of his pants, oozing thick, clear pre-ejaculate onto his inner thigh. You wonder if he's aware of it, or if teachers are supposed to have superhuman self-control...

Mr. Lindbergh laughs softly, his warm breath tickling your ear as he leans in closer to you. "Alright then, let's see... how about the early Viking invasions of England? That should be a good place to start." His voice lowers, taking on a more intimate tone, and he slowly runs one furred finger down your arm, making you shiver pleasantly.

His cock strains against his pants, growing even harder as it responds to his touch and nearness to you. You can feel the heat radiating from it through the fabric of his trousers, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on history when there's this much raw masculinity around you.

Mr. Lindberg laughs softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement behind the lenses of his glasses. "Yes, that's right," he says, his voice still gentle but teasing. He leans closer to you, lowering his voice even further, until it's almost a whisper. "And do you remember why they invaded?" His cock throbs harder against his pants, pre-ejaculate running down the length of him and pooling in his underwear. The musky scent fills your nostrils, making your head spin. You can feel heat radiating from it, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything else. "Or perhaps," he continues, his breath hot on your cheek, "you'd like to ask me about something else?" His hand slides further down your arm, encircling your wrist possessively before slipping higher up to cup your breast through your shirt.

Mr. Lindberg looks amused by your reply. "Ah, I see you've got some cheekiness in you as well. Very good." His free hand finds its way to the base of your neck, gently massaging as he guides you closer to him, until his rock-hard cock presses against your leg. "But if that's not enough," he says with a grin, "perhaps I could show you myself."

He reaches down with one massive hand, unbuckling and pushing his pants aside, revealing his towering erection. His penis stands upright, thick and veiny, the head already slick with precum. With surprising gentleness, he takes your hand and places it on his cock, guiding you to stroke him slowly as he continues speaking about the Vikings. "So," he says, "as for why they invaded... well, let's just say that England had a few things that the Norsemen wanted."

His free arm still wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer, his warm breath fanning across your face as he watches you stroke him. His abs ripple beneath your fingers, and every muscle in his body tenses as he feels the pleasure coursing through him. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead, tracing paths down to the corners of his eyes before slipping away onto his cheeks.

Mr. Lindberg laughs softly, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. "Ah, perhaps you're learning faster than I thought," he says with a smile. His cock twitches in your hand as you stroke it slowly, his hips beginning to rock back and forth against the pressure of his pants. "But seriously, älskling," he continues more seriously, "do remember that history isn't just about dates and battles. It's about people, their desires... their humanity." He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before leaning in closer to you once again. "And sometimes," he whispers into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "it's about wanting something so badly that you'll cross oceans and conquer kingdoms just to get it." His hands slide higher up on your body, cupping your breasts through your shirt as he kisses your neck.