Adriana and the Buttapboo

"I've really enjoyed having you as a student Eric, I'm sorry to see the semester end."

Eric was deeply tempted -- she was beautiful, the smartest, most interesting person he'd ever known — but it was premature. Be patient he told himself, one more dose. He reached for her hand, held it in his, said, "I've enjoyed it also, I've learned a lot from you, and please let me know about those plants."

Arching her back and neck, moving her body into him, she said, "And please, make sure to call me if you have any questions, any time, if I can be of any help at all."

On the flight home she struggled to regain control of herself. She'd broadcast her availability, she'd been ready to fuck him in her office. Any other man would have thrown her across her desk. She was a little miffed -- men didn't say no to her -- but grateful for his self-control. Screwing a student in her office this late in the year, when plenty of faculty are working late, would have been insane. He was a special, extraordinary, admirable, adorable, sexy young man.

At home she checked the batteries on her favorite vibrator and dildo. Tonight she would take her time.

* * * * *

It was noon, the papers were due at 5:00. She checked her phone again, still nothing from him. It made sense, her notes had been thorough, he was her strongest student, the one least likely to need help, the one least likely to offer an excuse for a late or defective paper, but still, she longed to talk to him. Then she recalled the plants, why hadn't she thought of them earlier? She started to call him, but his paper was due in a few hours, he might be furiously finishing it, so she sent a text: "Hey Eric, is this a good time to talk?"

When he responded, "Yes, I'd love to talk," she called him on Facetime; at the sight of him her nipples tingled, her sex swelled, her heart beat faster. Dropping a hand between her legs she said, Hey Eric, how's the paper going?"

Gesturing to a computer sitting behind him, she'd been so focused on him she'd not initially noticed it, it was a dinosaur, she hadn't seen the model in years, he said, "I was just formatting it to send to you. I hope you like it, I think it's pretty good. Is everything okay?"

"Yes Eric. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you must be busy, but I was thinking about your offer of those plants. I've been rude, I should have called you earlier. Of course I'd love them, but I was thinking that instead of my office they'd be perfect in my condominium."

"No bother. Is tomorrow morning good for you? I'm scheduled for interviews at Berkeley. I could leave them with Morrow's Horticultural Services, they're friends of mine. They have the equipment necessary to deliver and set them up in a high rise. When we get off the phone text me your address. I'll let them know."

That was not what she had in mind, she wanted him to deliver them, but her mind addled by the fire between her legs, she was unable to come up with a Plan B and said, "That's perfect."

Hurrying to her bedroom , stripping, she texted Eric her address, taking a perverse delight in doing so while naked, then turned on the vibrator sitting on her bed -- it'd been in constant use lately, she hadn't bothered putting it away -- and several minutes later, imagining her and Eric's entwined sweaty bodies on this bed, her gut exploded and she screamed, "OH GOD ERIC, YES ERIC, YES ERIC, YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS ERIC ERIC ERIC ERIC."

* * * * *

After a long shower she returned to her computer. It was close to 2:00 P.M., the papers were due at 5:00. After spending several hours responding to work related e-mails she logged onto the university's site and watched the papers dribble in. A couple were a few minutes late, but close enough to the deadline to be acceptable. However, she saw nothing from Eric. She searched his name. It had been there for several hours. As he'd said, he'd been finishing it up.

After her experience with the mid-terms, knowing it would be unfair to the other students to let Eric set the bar too high, she set his aside and worked late into the night, not only reading and grading papers, but preparing the detailed comments that were her real contribution to her students' education. When she got to Eric's she was tired and a bit jaded, and decided to save it for the morning. It would be a treat over a cup of green tea.

* * * * *

Wearing a sort sexy gown, she primped in front of a mirror, then fixed a cup of tea and curled up in her favorite chair as she read Eric's paper. His draft had been superb, this was better. He'd not only incorporated her suggestions, but showed a true understanding of what she'd been getting at. He'd also made several changes of his own. It was good to see a student who truly cared about the material, who was not just chasing a grade.

Then, although moving towards a conclusion, the paper ended mid-sentence. There was a missing page or two.

She re-checked her computer, the pages were not there, returned to her bedroom, put on a shirt, called Eric on Facetime.

He was in his greenhouse, surrounded by buttapboo plants. At the site of them, associative memories and desires flooded her body. It was like she could smell the plants, it was like she could smell him.

"Good morning Ms. Guttierez. Did something come up about the delivery today?"

Focusing, regaining her composure, she said, "No, I'm fine, it's not about the delivery. It appears I didn't get all your paper. I have thirteen pages. How long was it?"

Taking a moment to recall, he said, "Fifteen pages, but there wasn't much on the last page. It must be my computer, it can be persnickety," then checking his watch, said, "I'll run back inside and re-send it."

Adriana had seen his computer, she did not doubt him. Did she need the last two pages? It could be recitations of Mother Goose and he'd get, and deserve, an "A." But her inventive mind had identified an opportunity here. After all, she certainly couldn't award a grade without a complete copy of the final paper in her file.

She said, "Go ahead Eric, but also print a copy and bring it with you. That way if something happens I can get it from you while you're in town."

* * * * *

When Adriana Guttierez returned to her computer she saw that Eric had re-sent his paper, it was there, each and every page. She read it, re-read it, awarded it the "A" it deserved, finished typing her comments, then loaded the grades into he computer. The only thing left was to forward them to the university.

That was when her phone rang.

"Ms. Guttierez, it's the front desk. Morrow Horticultural is here. They have some plants to deliver, said you were expecting them."

"I am, send them up."

The gentlemen, polite and professional, moved the plants around the apartment several times -- being men they had no objection to lingering around this stunning woman -- before Adriana decided on the right spots. Using the water Eric provided them, they watered the plants, thanked Ms. Guttierez for her generous tip, and once downstairs texted Eric to let him know the delivery had been made.

As the buttapboos' potent scent spread through her condominium Adriana headed for her computer to forward the grades, when her phone rang. It was Eric, she put it on FaceTime and said, "Hello," swallowing the word "darling" just before it came out, "Eric."

"Hello Ms. Guttierez, I was calling to see if the plants arrived safely."

She turned her phone towards the buttapboos, then back to herself, and excitement in her voice said, "They did, and they're lovely. How did you get so many blossoms, three flowers on one, four on the other? You're amazing, you must have magic hands."

"The greenhouse helped. Did you get the final two pages of my paper?"

When the idea had come to her, Adriana Guttierez wondered if she'd go through with it. But now, the air dense with the buttapboos' perfume, his face on the screen, the burn between her legs intense and powerful, the desire in her heart rich and deep, she sat and clicked her computer, forwarding the grades to the university. Eric was now a former student, fair game, and it would not really be a lie, more of an omission that she'd make it up to him a thousand times over.

"Eric, it'd be best if you brought them by. And with the semester over please call me Adriana."

"The interview ends about 3:00, so depending on traffic I can be there about 3:45."

Breathing deeply she said, "Good, use my guest parking space in the building. The parking entrance is on the Bay side. I'll text you the code for the garage and the spot's number."

"Thank you Adriana."

"No, thank you Eric for all the trouble you've gone to."

She hung up the phone. Her lawyer mind told her technically she hadn't lied, she hadn't told him she didn't receive the pages, she just asked him to bring them by. Yet her woman mind knew she'd been less than honest, but she'd never wanted a man like she wanted him.

* * * * *

After a vigorous hour in the building's world-class gym, after a long hot bubble bath -- that always made her feel sexy -- Adriana sat at her vanity, applied make-up, got just the right look, combed out her hair, she'd been letting it grow out, put on pearl earrings.

The question of what to wear had been nagging her. She'd thought about greeting him at the door in lingerie and stiletto heels, but that was way over the top. She considered a short leather skirt, but while that might be right for his leering classmates, it wasn't for Eric. No, something chic, elegant, inviting, but casual.

Twenty minutes after she'd entered, she emerged from her walk-in closet wearing a pair of cropped black pants, red and white stripe running down the outside of her leg, and a black turtle neck sweater. It would show all her charms, but was not patently sexual. Shoes? With this look she decided she could get away with red open toed 4 ½ inch narrow heeled Gucci's. She'd be several inches taller than Eric, but she'd sensed no insecurity in him. She put them on, looked in the mirror, just right.

Taking off the shoes she went to the kitchen, checked on the Vietnamese Chicken Salad she'd made before heading for the gym -- it was best when it sat for a couple of hours -- picked up the salt, tasted it, put the salt down, it was perfect. She set the table on her balcony, made a run though her bedroom to make sure she'd left nothing embarrassing out, then straightened up. When the man downstairs called and said she had a visitor she put her shoes back on.

* * * * *

She opened the door, my god was she beautiful. Six plus feet in those heels, slender and small breasted, long straight light brown hair, and large brown eyes and a radiant smile framed by the full lips of her oval face.

"Eric, please come in, I really appreciate this. I know it's an imposition to ask you to come to my home."

I could smell the buttapboos. The saturation rate was perfect.

"Not a burden. The building is lovely."

" Would you like a tour?"

* * * * *

Adriana glowed in genuine pleasure as I complimented her condominium, it's design modern and angular, then stopped to gaze at the Golden Gate Bridge through the living room's ten foot floor-to-ceiling window.

"This is amazing Ms. Guttierez."

Walking up to me from behind, thinking her bedroom had the same view, she lay a hand on my shoulder and said, "Eric, it's Adriana. Now that you're no longer my student I'd like us to be friends. If you're not in a rush to get home I made Chicken Salad. I've been told it's quite good."

"No, there's no hurry; I'd love some."

* * * * *

She removed the chicken salad from the refrigerator, filled the two turquoise feminine bowls she'd lined with lettuce, then pushing the hair back from her face said, "Would you like some wine?"

"Is it okay to drink with a teacher?"

Leaning forward, Adriana slid her hand across the kitchen's island, touched mine. "I'm a former teacher, all rules are off."

Holding the tip of her index finger between thumb and forefinger, I squeezed and said, "In that case, I'd love some. What goes with chicken?"

She said, "I prefer a Chardonnay," and poured two glasses.

We ate on the balcony, the conversation lively, she as fascinated by the world I lived in, so different from hers, as I was by hers.

When we were done Adriana, trying to read my body language, wanting me to stay, re-filled our wine glasses, came around the island, and standing directly in front of me said, "There is one last thing about the class. I forwarded my notes about the final papers to all my students by e-mail, told anyone who was interested in discussing them that I'd meet with them. Would you like to review yours."

"Very much, the den looked cozy."

She was ready; it was time. I looked at her and Adriana's blood pressure spiked, for she knew that look, a look that made her heart flutter and lips tremble, the look of a guy who's about to kiss you for the first time, the perfect blend of sexy and adorable. I lowered my gaze, fixed my eyes on her lips, looked back up. Then, leaning forward, my eyes moving up and down her face, I paused, as if unsure of myself, then finished the journey to her waiting mouth.

It was a long lazy kiss. I moved my tongue on her lips. Adriana, eyes closed, touched it with her tongue, then retreated, inviting me into her mouth. There her tongue greeted mine with grace and certainty, as if long lost friends, as if it had been in her mouth a thousand times before and would be a million times again. She licked my lips, enjoying my taste and smell, earthy and intoxicating, unlike the other men she knew, who were always the same combination of cologne and mouthwash suggested by the most recently trendy web-site. She moaned, the sound interrupting the quiet buzz of her kitchen. I folded my fingers on her upper arm.

When the kiss ended she opened her eyes and said, "I've been wanting you to do that."

I picked up the glasses of wine and said, "I've been wanting to do it. Now please, I'd love to hear your thoughts on my paper."

She told me to take off my shoes, make myself comfortable, and I sat on her couch, my back resting on its arm, as she, keeping her shoes on, for she knew how men loved heels, leaned her back into me. I wrapped my arms around her and, tablet on her lap, we went over my paper. Her observations were, as they'd been all semester, incisive, often brilliant, and somehow we both managed to pay attention, ask questions, and listen to answers despite my dick, hard and hot, pressed to her back.

When we were done she laid her tablet on the table next to the half-empty glasses of wine, turned, kissed me. Soft gentle pressure, nibbling on my lips, lingering tentative caresses of her tongue, and soon she leaned into me, her hands on my thighs, and said, "I hope you don't think me the hussy, but there is something I've been dreaming of," as she unfastened my belt.

* * * * *

Adriana raised her head and checked the clock. They'd been asleep for two hours. She looked out the window to the sun descending over the ocean. It was magnificent, so was he. She'd never been fucked so forcefully or so well, never come so hard, never been this relaxed.

I'd been drifting on the edge of sleep and when she moved I ran a hand down the side of her magnificent body, lifted my head, looked at the sunset, said, "Wow."

She turned, pure elation on her face, kissed me, and said, "I hope I didn't wake you, but it's something, isn't it my darling. You get an amazing view from up here, it's one of the reasons I bought this place."

As we watched the sun disappear over the horizon I moved to the head of the bed and Adriana, her body cuddled to mine, stroked my length. When it was gone she kissed my mouth and said, "Darling I'm thirsty, I'm going to get some water. Do you want anything?"

"Water sounds perfect."

Upon her return she handed me a bottle, then, standing before the window, stretched her lissome body, putting on little show, before getting on the bed and, sitting on the back of her heels, knees spread, said, "Eric, all semester I've had these thoughts about you, I tried to deny them, but they kept growing, getting stronger," then kissed my lips, bent over and, her mouth salivating with a desire that had been building for months, kissed the knobby head of my penis, said, "Your going to get a blow-job you'll never forget."

Her moist tongue slithered between her lips, lightly flicked the crown, then, taking its time, lovingly licked around my piss-hole in ever widening circles until she was dragging it around the circumference of the cock-head. With the crown wet she cupped my balls, said, "God they're big, I can only imagine how much cum is in them," collected cunt juice on her fingers, smeared it on my shaft and kissed the head, smacking her lips on the warm meaty crown.

There was a thing other lovers had asked her to do. She'd read about it, thought about it, but in end always refused. Maybe she should have, she'd have gotten experience on dicks smaller than his, but no, she was glad she waited. She'd said no not only because she'd feared the discomfort, but because there should always be boundaries, even if arbitrary ones. Your lover should know there are things you will not do. But for him there were no boundaries; she'd do anything for him.

She said, "Darling, lay on your back, I'm going to deep throat you. This will be my first time, so please be patient," worked up a load of spit in her mouth, let it ooze between her lips onto me, then, as she stroked my shaft, created another load, swishing this one around, letting it grow thick and heavy and slick. When she was ready she propped herself on an elbow, took a deep breath, forced her throat wide open with a yawn, and flattening her tongue on the floor of her mouth lowered her head. As I, gliding on her tongue, moved deeper into her mouth she, feeling the urge to gag, stopped three times, holding me in place as long as she could, accustomizing herself to the sensation before withdrawing.

And then, on the fourth attempt, the head sat at the entrance to her throat. Nostrils flaring, breathing through her nose, filling her lungs with air, she pressed down and helped along by the thick heavy slick spit she'd manufactured, moved me into her throat with a nudge. She paused for several beats, getting used to the sensation, then used her tongue, pulled me deeper, stopped when her gag reflex reawakened, calmed it, then again extended her tongue, pulled it back, dragged me deeper.

When her nose reached my pubic hair she, with a sense of accomplishment, massaged me with her throat muscles and forced her tongue from her mouth to lick my testicles. Toes curling, I said, "I never..., never..., never felt anything like this."

After swallowing several times -- the suction was divine -- she pulled her tongue back into her mouth and looked up, her brown eyes sparkling. I said, "Ready?" and rocked my hips a fraction of an inch, my dick shifting position in her throat. She swallowed, letting me know it was okay, and working together we picked up speed, me lengthening my thrusts, Adriana moving with me. She touched her neck, felt my cock bulldozing inside.

Soon I was sliding in and out of her throat, and Adriana, moaning, "Mmmmmm," into my cock-meat. Needing a break, she moved up until only the head was in her mouth, wrapped her hot supple soft lips on it, sucked hungrily, swirled her tongue. As pre-cum drooled from me Adriana licked it up, loving the musky flavor.

She'd never been so happy: she loved her home, her bed, the view, her work, the heavy dick in her mouth, this young man. She let me slip past her lips with an audible pop, sucked my balls into her mouth, felt them quiver and tighten. I muttered, "My god," as she pushed them past her lips with her soft tongue and again swallowed me, working my dick with lips, tongue, and the muscles of her throat. Head back and breathing hard, I was passive as she pistoned her face on me, dragged her soft lips from tip to base, paused to lick my balls, then glided back up to the mushroomed head.