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I Had Sex With My College Professor!

I Had Sex With My College Professor!

 

During my sophomore year, Professor Elbow Pads was strapped into a straitjacket and carted off to the loony bin. Or so the rumor went. Enter Professor Pants Fly. As in, “I will whip mine out.” There was no way for me to know as I got dressed that morning that I had chosen the perfect day to break out my little cutie pie cued denim shorts. Those babies rode a scant inch below my juicy round can. If they could speak they’d have said, “Uh-huh, slap it.”

 

HELLO NEW PROFESSOR


I was amid a sticky sea of sophomores, each of us trying to get our American History requirement over with for the day so we could get down to the more pressing business of getting ripped and mauling each other. The door to the auditorium swung open and in he came. Professor Pants Fly was super tasty, unassuming and sexy. He’d perfected his chestnut brown bangs-sweep with his left middle  nger. The corners of his mouth turned up and he waved, I believe, directly at me…..READ MORE

 

“Hey,” he said.  “Hey,” I mouthed back.

 

My legs moved slightly apart as he unzipped his track jacket and caped the back of his chair with it. I watched as though missing one of his movements might make me cry. As he wrote his name, ALEX, on the dry erase with a blue pen, his extra-lean drummer boy guns gave me a little pink-on. I wanted to grab that Adidas jacket and scrape o some Alex DNA so I could grow my own private home version of him. I had no idea that my ankles would soon meet his ears and my tongue would dart around his salty dark places. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

 

AM I THE ONLY ONE?

 

In the courtyard after class, I was going on and on about the new professor. I looked at my confused triad of friends. Turns out that two of them did not have this same nipple-erecting reaction to Alex. I could not believe it. Melanie thought he looked like a shy-acting fucktard, a former member of a failed emo band. Marcus called him “a chalk outline for a drug addict overdose.” I could tell Claire was churning the same gripping-the-hard-on thoughts I was, though I knew she was too churchy to do anything about it.

 

Did I have a chance with the new professor? Hell yeah, I thought. These short denim biznatches were going to gain me entrance to Professor Alex and his track jacket zipper, which I would eagerly tug down with my teeth.

 

GET TO THE SEX ALREADY

 

Alex’s office hours were at four. I straightened my halter and pushed up my boobs, took my underwear off and let my hair stay messy. I put a condom in my back pocket thinking maybe a little ring would develop there like those good ol’ boys who like to slurp on chew.

 

Walking toward Alex’s office I pictured all kinds of positions we might throw ourselves into. I like to fancy myself Queen of the Blowjob. I can and will blow you to Kingdome Cum. Maybe I followed one too many ice cream trucks as a girl and sucked one too many Bomb Pops while looking at men who should not have been looking at me. I couldn’t wait to get my lips on Alex.

 

When I actually got to the office door I was pretty nervous. Seeing his name taped to the door sent my heart and lungs into overdrive. Was I really going to do this? Somehow I managed to knock on the door.

 

I heard a throat clearing in surprise. “Uh, yeah? The door’s open.” I entered. I stared at him. He stared back. The door closed behind me and I had no fucking clue what to say. The room was empty except for a desk. The musty smell of higher education hit my nose as I realized I was about to enter into an illicit time-honored tradition. “You’re in my American History class, right?” He noticed me amongst 400 students. I nodded happily. “Yeah, I just wanted to ask you something” I said.

 

There was no way some wrong stuff wasn’t about to happen. A drip of sweat trailed down my neck and tickled me. I thought there would be more convincing needed on my part (or his part), more nuance. But no. Not at all. I locked the door almost without thinking about it. He was looking at my legs and my shorts. “You’re fucking hot,” he said. Shiiiit. I was standing in a stream of sunlight that I knew was highlighting my cleavage. I actually
did feel fucking hot as shit right then. “Shouldn’t we talk about some school stuff first?“
in a lame attempt at ice-breaking humor. But there was no ice to break. He had already
moved around his desk. His belt buckle was a brass hot air balloon. That detail will stick with me for the rest of my life.

 

THE JUICY DETAILS

 

Looking into my eyes he flipped open the belt buckle. I untied the back of my halter. His pants and my top dropped at the same time. Our eyes were locked. There was so much tension between us that if we had been standing in front of the class I would have fucked him right then anyway. I felt the sun hit my hard nipples. I saw the outline of his stiff cock pushing against his plaid boxers. A fan of the peek-a-boo blow, I reached inside the  fly and pulled out not-so-little Alex. I glanced up at the new professor, back at his hard on, back at him.

I lifted my right tit and licked my nipple with my tongue, then moved my mouth toward him. After I  nished blowing him he picked me up and put me on top of his desk and  flipped me over. He undid my shorts and slid them down. With my halter still around my waist and my denim shorts around my ankles, the naughty professor busted my dude-over-30 cherry over and over again — standing on the desk, against the wall and, my favorite, rolling around the room on his office chair.

 

HAPPY ENDING

 

For about six weeks I was a regular in Professor Alex’s office during off-hours. But it wasn’t long before he and his American History class were history themselves. Looking back, I remember I passed that class with flying colors. I got an A on my written exam and, I’m proud to say, an A+ on my oral.

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