Tempting the Professor Ch. 01

Getting a divorce was very easy: if you were a college lecturer, immersed in books, liked your job and had very little money. Experience had led him to that conclusion. He didn't blame his wife for walking out on their five-year-old marriage and finding a guy with loads of money, but tried to come to terms with life and its vicarious twists.

He was walking home after class when he heard a familiar voice, bringing him back to the present.

"Hey, prof. looking nice today," the voice said. .

That came from his former student; short chubby, spectacled and small boobs did not add up to attractive. She was wearing a blue jeans and a loose white shirt to hide her figure.

"Hi," he acknowledged.

"Care for a cup of coffee,?" she asked and he accepted as he did not want to upset one of his best students who, he believed, had a crush on him.

"What are you doing now,?" he asked her.

"I work for a magazine and am editing articles, and I need your help a bit. Since you were so aloof and introverted and never give me your phone number, I thought I could meet you here in person," she smiled sarcastically.

She was still flirting and the crush was still alive, though it was three years since she left college.

"Ya, sure," he said and they walked towards a coffee shop. She was walking too close but he ignored it as coincidence.

"How is your wife?" she asked casually after they ordered coffee.

"She left me for a better man," he said.

"I am sorry. Some women have no taste. I mean I would never have left you, I mean a man like you," she sniffed and that made her remark sound frank and genuine and at 35 he needed all the compliments that came his way. He sipped coffee quietly.

"You are a literature guy and I need some help and since it is Friday and all that....What if I came over to your place? "

He nodded, not minding a little bit of company, having spent lonely sleepless weekends for too long.

"Right away,?" she asked not bothering to hide her glee and he nodded.

Later at his place, he changed to boxers and T-shirt and they settled down on a couch. She ordered pizza for them and they ate and edited, rewriting sentences and adding and removing words here and there. It was strenuous work and they decided to take a break. He took beer cans out of the fridge and offered one to her.

"Hey prof, can I be direct with you?"

He nodded.

''You know I have the hots for you. I know you don't feel the same about me. Fine, but I got a doubt. Will you get an erection if you feel my pussy? I think you will. What do you say, prof.?" she smiled impishly.

"I don't know," he shrugged.

He had expected something naughty like this from her.

"I say, you feel my pussy, let's see what happens. You don't have to see my face, think of some other sexy woman," she got up and switched off the lights and put on the TV and gestured to him to come sit near her. He was confused but needed someone, even his former student who was not exactly Megan Fox whom he loved so much.She unbuttoned and unzipped her pants and peeled her panties, leaving on nothing but her shirt. He sat by her and she guided his hands between her spread thighs. He fondled her shaved pussy and found it was steaming hot and slippery.

"I won't touch you Prof, but tell me when you have an erection."

She moaned as his two fingers roamed freely inside her, prodding and probing her tight young cunt. Being starved of sex, her fragrance emanating from her aroused body and sensuous feminine touch gave him a stony erection. He added one more finger inside her while she played with her boobs and moaned. He pulled down his boxers to reveal his erection.

"See, I told you," saying this she knelt before him and began mouthing him, rolling her tongue over his 5-inch long manhood. He watched her head bob up and down, hair waving gently, as her tongue coated him with saliva. She turned around on the couch, offering her rear to him.

"Ride me from behind," she said.

The 'prof' had disappeared, he noticed. He stood behind her and rubbed his erection on her wet open slit and spiked her, sliding easily in thanks to her lubrication and his saliva-coated tool. Holding her shoulders, he slammed himself against her, a starved man getting what he wanted most. Having been without sex from some time, he could not hold out for long and let go, spouting his thick hot cum inside her narrow and twitching lust alley. She moaned in appreciation and both breathed heavily and waited till he slid out of her. Without looking at her, he went to the bathroom, took a leak and when he came back she had her pants on.

They worked some more and dozed off on the couch. When he woke up in the morning, she had gone, leaving a thank you note. She had removed the pizza cartons and the empty beer cans.

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Saturday noon he got an email from her; it was a photo of two girls locked in a 69 and another of a girl eating a young cunt. And there was this question: Do you want to watch something like this?

Sipping a beer, he remembered she had taken his email ID at some point of time. He was confused as to how to react to this girl. Should he play along? Was there any danger in doing a threesome or did she mean just watching. He had always loved to watch two women in a 69, or licking or kissing in a porn film and he loved to watch women fight, rolling on the floor and grabbing their hair etc.

He had been faithful to his wife during the five years of their marriage. They had enjoyed sex, bathing together and trying all positions. It all boiled down to one thing: money, which he won't get in loads and hence the chance of her returning to him was slim. And would he accept her if she did return?

Where was all this leading? To the crucial question of whether he should encourage this student of his, play along and take the uncharted road to an unknown destination.

Should he sniff at her cunt like a dog and see where she led him? Thinking like this gave an erection: his dead dick was active, thanks to this unattractive girl, her flirting and her photos. He sure was enjoying this and who the hell was going to stop him from going ahead.

He typed "why not?" and sat back waiting for her reply. Within a few minutes she responded. "Next Saturday night, meet me at my house,' she said and gave her address.

So he had to wait for a week, a week of lectures and lectures. He wondered what lay in store for him as he stood at threshold of a tortuous route of sexual exploration.