After Class Ch. 01

Part one of what will hopefully be a series. My first submission in a long time so feedback is welcome!

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She sat at the back of the lecture hall, her legs crossed at the knees, bent at a right angle to her upper body to allow her knees to poke up next to the arm desk. She wore similar clothes most days, a collared shirt and a warm but flattering sweater to combat the permanent chill of the over air conditioned school buildings and either comfortable jeans or a flirty but not outrageous skirt. She was a normal, pretty but not remarkable college student. Her one concession to absurdity tended to be her shoes which varied wildly with her mood, from neon pink Chuck Taylors paired with a skirt from the Gap or ridiculous high heels in brightest cherry red with ratty old blue jeans. Today she wore a conservative black skirt that flared out at the knees and a blue silk blouse under a loose sweater vest. When she had sat down her skirt had ridden up exposing a long line of skin on the top leg, slightly pink and angry looking from a recent sun burn. About half way through the lecture she had reached down to straighten her skirt, realized there was no skirt to straighten, and glanced up at him quickly, a faint flush of embarrassment spreading across her face. But then she had seen his eyes focused glassily on her thigh while his mouth lectured on auto pilot and, after hesitating for a moment, had left the skirt where it was.

Twenty minutes later he was starting to feel lightheaded from all the blood rushing south. She was sitting in the back row giving her the perfect opportunity to tease him without being seen by anyone else. She had worn the red high heels today, probably celebrating the fact that spring had finally arrived in upstate New York, and he was starting to realize why those types of shoes were called fuck me pumps. She had shifted in her seat right when some little jerk in the front row had asked a question which forced him to turn and write on the board for a few minutes and when he turned back to the classroom he almost swallowed his tongue. He had assumed that the shift she had begun when he turned away was merely going to be fidgeting her knees or some such but instead she had stretched both impossibly long legs out over the arm of the chair next to her and was writing on the flimsy little arm desk sideways. She was taking up both seats and he felt the sudden irrational urge to call her out on it, to chastise her in front of the entire room, both for behaving inappropriately and for taking up both seats. He thought better of it and tried to focus on explaining Medieval barter economies and tried desperately to ignore the shocking red shoes crossed over slim ankles lurking in the back of the room.

He got to the end of the lecture, barely, and was chugging his water bottle as the students filed out, already excitedly talking about whatever fun they were planning on the suddenly green and summery quad. He firmly resolved to be extremely busy with very important papers as the students left so that he would not have to look at the shoes clicking down the steps from the back of the room. But he could hear them. They tapped along, dawdling down the steps, getting louder and louder as the other noises diminished with the rapidly emptying classroom, until they were the only sound at all. They moved across the room and stopped in front of the podium. He was still standing on the ledge behind the podium, placed there to give inexperienced young professors like himself extra height and an added sense of authority, and she had stopped at exactly the right distance that he could see just a bit of the red shoes over the blank papers he was so busily shuffling. After what felt like an awkward eternity he had to look up and almost swallowed his tongue for the second time. She had taken off her sweater and her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of cream bra. Her hands were clasped behind her, forcing her chest, and the gaping shirt as well, out towards him in a posture that was both provocative and innocent. He stepped down from the dais and put his bag on the table beside it, turning his back on her, desperately tucking papers into folders, anything so that he wouldn't have to see the red shoes and the open shirt behind him.

He did pretty well ignoring her for about 15 seconds and then he froze as he heard the heels tap towards him once, twice and then she was standing next to him, in front of the table, her shoulder a millimeter away from his, so close that he could feel the warmth of her body. He was breathing hard, wondering what she was going to do next, when she turned quickly and hopped up onto the table swinging her legs off the edge like a kid but with those incongruous, murderous, blood red high heels. The only thing he could hear was his own pulse and the only thing he could see was her fingers as she fiddled with the bottom button of her blouse.

There were seven, tiny pearl buttons, he realized distractedly, as she fiddled the bottom one open.

Now only six.

As the next one popped open he could see a little triangle of flesh between the waistband of her skirt and the open tent of her blouse, falling in soft folds from her chest.

Now only five.

Her fingers hesitated on the fourth button and in that second of hesitation he was lost. He was sure he would explode if she stopped and it was suddenly imperative to make sure it did not stop. Her fingers had not even recovered from their momentary pause when his hands lashed out and ripped the shirt open and before she had time to register her surprise, or shock, or whatever her reaction would have been he had stepped between her open knees and shoved her down onto the table. Her eyes were closed and the blue shirt had fallen completely open, exposing a soft pale stomach and a skin tone bra barely containing a pair of succulent young breasts. He reached for his multi tool and opened it quietly, lowering it stealthily until the cold metal hovered above the strap of the bra. She gasped as the blade touched her skin and held her breath as he sliced the bra off, using the tip of the knife to push it off her breasts. The cold air stiffened her nipples and he could not help but lean down and take one into his mouth, suckling, teasing the very tip with his tongue. She moaned and brought her hands up to rest on his head but he grabbed her wrists and slammed them back down onto the hard surface of the table. He sucked her breast further into his mouth and ground his cock against her mound, squeezing her wrists in time with the thrust of his hips. He sucked and sucked and finally bit down and snapped at her nipple. The little flicker of pain made her arch her back and shove the breast against his face. He took advantage of her bowed back to shove her arms, still tangled in the mess that was all that remained of her shirt and bra, under her back. The shirt was so torn that she was effectively trussed, unable to wiggle free because of the weight of two people on her upper body. With her shoulders pulled back her chest was thrust out and he stood back up to survey his handiwork. He ass was teetering on the edge of falling off the table and he slid his hands up her thighs, pushing the skirt higher and higher until he could see her black lace panties. She twitched her hips as his fingers drifted over her fabric covered slit so he grabbed the front panel and tore it down the middle.

With the fabric suddenly gone he could smell her arousal and it made him even harder. He walked around to the other side of the table, where her head was hanging off the edge, and unzipped his fly. When his cock was released from its confines it bounced down and smacked her in the face and she obediently opened her mouth. He ran the head of his cock around her lips for a moment or two, tormenting her. Her pink tongue nipped out once to try and lick to mushroom head and he leaned over and slapped her breast, the sudden pain making her open her mouth even wider in shock and he took advantage of that moment to slam himself down her throat. He was too big for that to work normally but her head was hanging down backwards keeping her throat open. She was not expecting his cock and as he slid down her throat she yelled but any noise that might have come out of her was muffled by a mouth full of cock and a face full of balls. The only effect her screaming had was to vibrate her throat around his dick and he threw back his head and grinned, sliding his cock in and out of her mouth.

He fucked her face for a while, watching her writhe as she tried to catch her breath in between thrusts, enjoying the way her tits jiggled. Every few thrusts he would reach out and slap her breast and feel her gasp around his cock. He reached further out and drew his fingers across her slit, surprised at how wet she had become given the way he was abusing her. He slid his fingers around her clit and felt her sigh. He used his other hand to roughly pinch her nipple and flinched as he felt her teeth scrape the underside of his shaft. He slapped her clit in punishment and was extremely surprised to see her entire body practically elevate off the table. Apparently she liked it like that.

He slapped her again and again felt her entire body tense up. He kept smacking her until she came, her mouth open wide as she screamed around his cock and he darted around the table and had slammed his shaft deep inside her while she was still cumming. The sensation of her hot messy pussy, which would have practically made him cum right then and there anyway, combined with her walls pulsing around him almost made his head explode. He kept himself deep inside, buried all the way to the hilt, until he was sure he could move without blowing his wad. As her body relaxed he regained a little bit of control and began to slid himself out of her until the only thing keeping him in was the ridge of his cockhead. He pulled back just a little more and he popped out and she whimpered at the sudden emptiness. The sound angered him and he reached up and put his hand around her throat. He used his other hand to line his cock up with her slit and ran the meaty head up and down, from her opening to her clit a few times. Finally he rested it at her opening and slammed inside, squeezing her throat at the same moment, watching her wince as his pubic bone smashed into her clit. He fucked her hard, hammering away at her hole, punishing her for teasing him and always, always, keeping his hand around her throat, controlling her, exerting his authority over her body.

He slammed into her over and over again, ending each stroke with a slight upward twist so that his hips were swiping her clit with each stroke. He could feel the tension inside her building up and he used his free hand to wrench her nipple, and grunted as she contracted around him. He did it again and again, and felt his eyes roll back in his head as her cunt gripped him, the ripples in her walls massaging his cock as she came around him. The sensations were too much and he felt his balls tighten and his hands around her throat and on her breast squeeze tight, almost dangerous but not quite and he shot deep into her, grinding himself against her clit as she pushed back against him. As he came down from his high he stood up carefully, heard the gentle slopping noise as his cock fell out of her, pulled up his pants and grabbed his briefcase and walked out the door, leaving her spread out on the table. He opened the door and found his TA standing in the empty hallway, red faced, and realized that the doors, even when shut, had a crack that one could see right through. He shrugged as he walked away, heard the door slam behind him and heard a moan from the still not deserted lecture hall.

If this proves popular I will continue the story of the TA and our heroine. So it all comes down to your feedback folks!