Seducing My Professor

Monica awoke the next morning in a strange mood. Her roommate, Kelly, had already gone for the day and while she was frustrated, masturbation was not going to cut it this time. After breaking up with her high school sweetheart, Monica had spent the first six months of her freshman year at university single. Sure, she had been to wild parties but somehow, the wild part had escaped her life.

As a result, sexually frustrated and with no knight in shining armor in sight, she had taken to fantasizing about one of her teachers. Mr. Legallant, her literature teacher, was simply amazing. His masculine jaw, dirty blonde hair and early twenties physique had been enough on more than one occasion to drive her to attempt to get off in class. Most people would not notice, but the clenching and unclenching of her thighs, while swinging her crossed legs, was enough to get her there if she was particularly frustrated. Unlike some of her girlfriends, Monica had started touching herself at a very young age, as a result at nineteen, she was not as much a nymphomaniac as simply a young woman with an insatiable sexual appetite.

For a brief moment, Monica started to massage her rosebud nipples in bed, toying with their per stiffness, luxuriating in the memory of her wanton dreams. The thought of her teacher, Mr. Legallant, fulfilling her every nook and cranny had been the subject of several fantasies in his class. One time, she was sure that as he smiled, she came, legs twirling in a circle as she clenched her inner thighs tight. Even if it was not a full orgasm, by the time she got to a restroom to clean herself up, the panties had ended up in the trash to avoid getting her black skirt wet and risk showing through. The walk home that day had been particularly enjoyable, with many hot guys smiling at her knowingly. With the cool fall spring air rustling her skirt, she knew they were reacting to the faint smell of pussy on the air from her classroom exploits. She smiled at them wickedly and winked but walked on, ignoring their lecherous grins.

The trouble was, Monica was deathly afraid of rejection. Her dream boy, Brock, had been the object of every high school girl's fantasy. Only his prick was the size of a pencil in girth and a deck of cards in length, so despite his physical beauty, his package never delivered. Dumping him off before going to college had been quite easy for Monica. The only problem was, after three years of being part of a couple, even a high school one, she had no idea how the whole dating thing worked. With her looks, she scared off most guys before they even had the courage to approach her so the few that ended up trying to chat with her most often were either overconfident douche bags or ignoramuses who assumed that her looks meant a corresponding lack of brains.

Frustrated and lonely, Monica stopped twisting her nipples despite the ache between her creamy thighs. The boy shorts she wore to bed hugged her most intimate areas in a dreamy fashion but at the moment, she was delirious with need of something more real. The dorm rook clock showed that it was early on Tuesday, which figured. Her afternoon had ended on Monday in Mr. Legallant's class. While he was a great teacher, incredibly handsome and very friendly Monica desperately hoped that he was not just being nice. The college had very strict rules on student teacher fraternization if the student was currently enrolled or would be enrolled in that teacher's class. However, every day that Monica had sat kicking and twirling her legs, stimulating herself in class, it seemed that Mr. Legallant had noticed and appreciated the show.

After more than a month of hoping that his appreciation would lead to something more, Monica now despaired that she was not as attractive as she thought. At five eight, she turned heads with her lustrous black hair and pert, c-cup breasts. Going to yoga was approaching religion for her, as a result, every inch of her frame was toned to perfection. Monica knew that people, men and women, appreciated and admired her physique. While most women had gravity defying breasts at one point or another in their lives, Monica stood out like a siren in the dark.

Getting out of bed in her boy shorts and lacy bra, she stood and stretched, idly wondering what she should try to accomplish first. Her roommate, Chelsea, would probably be stuck in the library for the rest of the day. Even though she had a cute mousiness about her that reminded Monica of Velma, from Scooby Doo, Chelsea was a shy, quite girl who hardly spoke to anybody. As a result, Monica had felt particularly alone all year long, as most other women had simply been jealous and most men had only wanted to get in her pants.

Monica took her time stretching, going from standing dog to cobra to other yoga poses, spending enough time to languish in the peculiar mix of pain and pleasure she always got from pushing her body to the flexible limit. By the time she finished, most of her sexual frustration had finally left, as much as it ever did. Grabbing a towel from inside her closet, she headed to the showers to freshen herself up before heading out into public. The shower served to wake her up and clear her head from the lingering effects of her erotic dreams. If she had not been so frustrated with having only herself for company, the hot water of the shower surely would have prompted her to finger her wet kitty to a fast climax.

However after more than six months of frantic, afraid to get caught masturbation stints while trying to relieve her growing frustration and not get caught by her roommate had left Monica less interested in fingering herself than ever. She turned off the shower, her nipples stiff only from the temperature change, and toweled herself dry. As she rubbed the tan cloth against her naked flesh, she pondered the dream of the night before. Andy was a hot man, to be certain, and Monica admired his restraint. Every guy she had conversed with from freshman to senior had wanted her number, a date or her pants, all in less time than it took to get to know them.

She wrapped the towel around her and headed back to her room to get dressed, idly considering a few courses of action. The simple solution she came up with, taking another cold shower, did not appeal to her at all. Nor did the thought of fingering herself to orgasm, even though she was sure that Chelsea would not be back for hours at least. That left finding a man to help with her frustration, which again, did not appeal to her at all. While she thought about her options, Monica dressed her lanky yet buxom frame in the same black skirt and blue top she wore when she had masturbated enough to cum in Mr. Legallant's class. As she dressed, an idle thought came to her about visiting Mr. Legallant in his office hours.

The parallel with her dream the night before left her shivering, which did not help the final preparations before she left her dorm room. Brushing her hair a final time, she studied the raven locks, slightly curled, which dangled far enough to touch on the tops of her breasts. Her blue top left a considerable expanse of tanned cleavage bare, framed by her raven colored tresses. Monica had always admired her own physique and the lack of acne only made her clear, open complexion that much more appealing. Sighing, she also realized it had made her life exponentially more frustrating as any number of nice guys were far too intimidated to make the first move, or any move, for that matter.

Monica finished at almost ten in the morning, shutting the door and almost skipping down the hall on her way out the dormitory. With her quarters on the third floor, it took a few minutes to exit the building but she was in great spirits as she exited to stroll in the spring California sunshine. Mr. Legallant's office was only a ten minute walk from her dormitory and according to memory, he was supposed to be there until eleven am. As she walked, Monica idly wondered if he would be wearing the loose, white shirt she remembered from her dream the night before.

As she walked, she passed by a few students who knew her, or at least recognized her. Most only smiled and nodded, but a few ventured more familiar greetings and said, "Hi," or similar. Monica was only half paying attention and provided non committal responses to each and everyone. Since her dream had been so wonderful and so outrageous, an idea had formed in her head that morning. Despite her usually diligent moral compass sounding the alarm, Monica squished the notion that she would hold back when meeting Mr. Legallant and instead focused on how good it would feel to finally have some relief. One part of her still worried as she walked that if Mr. Legallant was as bad a lover as her high school boyfriend, he would not be able to fix her problems. However that voice was a minor annoyance as she strode quickly across the college campus to attend his office hours.

By the time she arrived it was nearly ten thirty and of course, the door was closed. Shit, Monica thought, he's probably knee deep helping some football player with his grammar and won't have time to attend to me. As she assumed a comfortable pose to wait, Monica wondered if she was thinking straight. Sure the handsome teacher had been more than willing to smile and engage in small talk with her but that was a long leap shy of fucking her. While leaning up against the wall, clad in her black skirt and low cut blue top, Monica realized she should have brought her book bag or at least some papers. Looking up and down the hall, she noticed only a few other students present, none close enough to get the attention of unless she shouted. Shrugging, Monica thought that if her plan failed, she had more to worry about than her textbook sitting back on her dorm room desk.

Less than three minutes passed and Mr. Legallant's office opened to reveal a stunning blonde, shorter than Monica and very top heavy. The girl must have been a freshman, like Monica, but she was not a classmate. Her catholic school girl uniform, with white top and plaid skirt, caused her more panic. Could Mr. Legallant have just been fucking this little whore, Monica thought, watching the buxom blonde strut down the hall. Idly, Monica wondered if she should have worn a shorter skirt, seeing the blonde's plaid reach only mid thigh. The stockings came up to her knees, which left only an eight inch span of pale, creamy flesh bare.

"Hi," a baritone voice smoothly said, causing Monica to jump, her head swiveling to the direction of the sound in a whip like motion. "How are you today, Monica?" Mr. Legallant stood there, a cream colored polo shirt outlining his pectorals admirably.

"Good morning," Monica said huskily, meeting his blue eyes briefly before risking a glance down. His khakis were no more wrinkled than she had expected, but given the uber slut's nonchalant stroll away from his office, she started thinking that this seduction might not go as planned. "I need help," Monica finished, blushing slightly. With her tanned, mocha complexion, it was hard to tell for Mr. Legallant that she was in fact blushing. However, his eyes had wandered after the blonde as she turned a corner and he visibly sighed, turning to re-enter his office. One of his large, strong hands beckoned Monica to follow and she did, pulling her top down a notch to display even more of her cleavage.

"Take a seat," Mr. Legallant said, gesturing to the lone chair in front of his large, traditional desk. The walls were lined with shelves and books, his desk decorated with a lamp, laptop computer and several stacks of papers. For some reason, watching Mr. Legallant recline behind his chair, handsome face expectant, Monica felt the lust drain out of her. She took a deep breath and sighed, studying the myriad piles of work in front of her instructor. So much for a mad, lust driven gesture, she thought, considering how unlikely it was for him to stand up and shovel all of his work aside to take her right on top of the desk.

"Mr. Legallant," Monica murmered, her voice breathier than normal, "I need help with a very personal problem." She studied the floor as she spoke, not noticing the nonchalant expression of her teacher become lustful as he gazed at her tanned, immaculate chest. As if she was speaking to the floor, Monica took another deep breath, then looked up, catching her teacher staring at her chest. "Will you do me a favor?" A fine eyebrow arched as she said this, her heart pounding.

Andy Legallant was glad of the desk in front of him, between that hot blonde, Suzy, and now Monica stopping by his office, he had trouble hiding his massive erection. Seated behind the desk, he could breathe easier, knowing that the buxom student could not tell the extent to which he was behaving in a most unprofessional fashion. Clearing his throat, he asked, "How can I help?"

Monica took a deep, steadying breath as she held Mr. Legallant's eyes, staring into their blue depths. They appeared calm but wider than normal, his nostrils flared, as if he was breathing hard. She had no idea what impact her cleavage was having but could not take no for an answer. The wall behind her teacher was brick, decorated with a few of his teaching credentials. She looked around to make sure that the office was as windowless as it seemed. Satisfied, she got up and walked swiftly to the office door, locking the bolt with a swift motion.

Turning back from the door, she leaned against it, posing seductively, or so she thought. "Can I call you Andy?" Monica asked, breathing deeply, trying unsuccessfully to slow the frantic pace of her thoughts. At any moment she felt she might explode, her nerves were tingling so bad.

"Yes," Andy grunted, his voice rough. Watching Monica's firm, buxom curves outlined against the wooden office door drove rational thought out of his head. While the blonde had displayed her wares more wantonly, the seductive quality of Monica's outfit, promising much but revealing next to nothing, had sent him nearly over the edge already as she locked the door. "Anything to help one of my best students," Andy continued, trying to sound professional.

"Anything?" Monica echoed, quirking an eyebrow and drawing a deep, shuddering breath. Her tanned bosoms shook, drawing Andy's full attention. She casually reached up and put her right index finger in her mouth, then slid the finger down her throat to her chest, pulling down her blue top. "What if I want something," Monica paused, pulling the top down far enough to display the top of her lacy, pink bra, "Personal." Licking her lips, Monica pulled the top down below her right breast, showcasing her luscious, lacy pink covered mound.

By the time she had yanked her top down, Andy had already made up his mind. I can always get another job, he thought, but I might never be able to touch another woman so sexy again. Aloud, Andy said, "I do not know if I can do anything to help you." Interested, hell yes, but also paranoid that she might try to record him on a cell phone. If that happened, he would never be able to get another job and might even end up in jail for violating any number of school policies. Smiling, Andy continued, "Maybe you could tell me exactly what you want?" His teeth were exceptionally white which struck a handsome contrast to his lightly tanned skin. Given the right outfit, he could easily pass for a typical surfer.

Smiling back, Monica started to play with her brown nipple, teasing the nub underneath the lace of her bra. Andy simply stared back, the smile fading from his face as he watched Monica tease herself. Hungrily, he licked his lips, desperate to tear her clothes off but wanting to see how far she would go. After a moment of rubbing her nipple into stiffness, Monica pulled down her bra and grabbed her full breast with her hand. Slowly, she lifted it towards her face, close enough to lick with her tongue. Eyes fixed on Andy's face, Monica started to twirl her tongue around her nipple, enjoying the desperate, lustful expression that he bore.

"I need help," Monica said, letting her breast drop and reaching down to pull her top over her head. "Would you help me?" Andy nodded, watching as she tossed her top to the desk. Cupping both of her breasts, Monica stared at his face, enjoying his expression of torture. "Lick these," Monica said, walking over to his chair around the desk. She reached behind her back and unhooked the bra, letting it slid forward and then drop to the floor. Andy licked his lips as she approached, staring at her nipples, stiff in the suddenly warm air of his office.

Andy's office chair arms got in the way of Monica's plan to straddle him as he sat, so instead she sat back on the desk, spreading her legs wide. With a hard pull on his chair, she brought it under the desk and pressed her tits into Andy's face. Unable to deny his mounting lust, Andy grabbed Monica's firm breasts, their size overflowing his hands, and started to pull on her nipples. Leaning back, he started to suck first one nipple, then the other, coating them with his saliva. The pert brown nubs glistened in the dim light as he started to nibble Monica lightly, pressing his teeth into her flesh. Monica twirled her fingers in his hair, moaning softly. Each flick of Andy's tongue sent shivers down her spine.

Sucking on Monica's breasts, Andy finally stopped worrying about getting caught, or fired, and simply enjoyed the feeling of her creamy skin inside his mouth. Monica had always been one of his favorite students for the past month and it had been excruciating not to admire her luscious body more overtly. Now, face buried in her porn star esque tits, Andy felt like he might cum in a minute, even with his pants on. His cock throbbed as he felt Monica's delicate fingers running through his hair as he sucked on her nipple, taking a mouthful of breast inside his mouth. Flicking her pert nipple, he started to slide his left hand around her back, sending shivers down her spine as he explored her half naked body.

"Touch me," Monica whispered, "Everywhere." Andy's hand reached the small of Monica's back and gently pushed aside the elastic band of her black skirt. He could feel the line of her thong and traced it down along her crack. "Yes," Monica whispered, "Touch me." Andy started to slide his finger down further and then grabbed her ass underneath her skirt, pulling the cheeks further apart. A soft moan escaped Monica's lips as she pushed Andy back, away from her gorgeous breasts. Chest heaving, she stood up off the desk and towered over his seated form, her breasts just over his head. Bending down, she slid her hands up her thighs, teasing Andy.

Unable to resist, Andy grabbed her skirt as she took hold of her thong and started to slid it down her legs. Andy held the skirt, mesmerized by the sight of her wet thighs, the pubic mound freshly shaven. Monica loved the feeling of control, being in charge of the situation. Her own lust mounted as the warm, lust filled air washed over her inner thighs. Monica stood, clad only in her black skirt and heels, gazing down at Andy, still fully clothed.

"Take those off," Monica commanded, her voice husky. Andy nodded, unzipping himself and trying to slide his pants down without getting up from the chair. Once he squirmed his way free and started to rise, Monica pushed him back, causing him to drop into the chair and slide backwards. "That's enough," she continued, eyes fixated on Andy's throbbing member. The pants were still around his ankles, along with his green colored boxers. Monica had never seen such a huge, throbbing cock before. As she stared at his one eyed monster, she appreciated the clean lines of his circumcised head, the huge, mushroom top bulging. She licked her lips in anticipation, staring at his throbbing cock, one hand moving subconsciously to her breast to tweak a pert nipple. As she squeezed her nipple, the pleasure became a twinge of pain, she pulled so hard.