Altina & the Older Professor Ch. 02

I got up off his lap and took his hand as we wandered over to the tea station. He opened a cabinet above the sink which immediately transformed the whole area into a bar. A few fine bourbons sat up on the shelves. He grabbed one, pulled out a couple fine crystal glasses and a few ice cubes out of an ice bucket that he must have stocked a bit earlier.

He handed me a tinkling glass of a beautiful amber bourbon and we toasted our Friday. I liked being naked for him - standing in his office - having a drink on a Friday evening. I wasn't sure if he was going to want to cut our session off and continue to the following week, or not. The bourbon break felt a little like half time so I figured I would ask.

"So, Professor...are you going to want me to go or should I stay a bit longer."

He smiled and looked my body up and down. "How could I possibly want such lovely sexual energy to depart? No, Altina - I'd like you to stay for a bit longer, unless you have other plans."

I smiled in response. He may not have seen the hilarity in that notion, but I did. Other plans? Hardly. This night was devoted to him - or at least for as long as he wanted me.

"In that case, you're rather over-dressed for the party. Don't you think?" I asked, coyly.

"Yes, yes, I am, indeed. What should we do about that Ms. Beck?"

I answered by putting my glass down and beginning to unbutton his starched white shirt as he continued to sip his nectar. "I think we should move over to the couch," I whispered, "once these pesky clothes are discarded."

I left his shirt on once it was open and reached down to touch his stomach just above the waist of his trousers. We looked into each other's eyes the entire time as I undid his belt and began to unclasp his slacks. There was something very sexy about maintaining eye contact as I slowly disrobed him. I thought of all the coeds on campus - both former and present - who would love to be in my shoes right now, naked and undressing Professor Walton. I couldn't wait to see his gorgeous cock again.

He looked deep into my eyes with mouth open as I slowly - ever so slowly - lowered his zipper. My God, in his sixties and not wearing a stitch of underwear. I dropped to my knees and pulled his pants down. His glorious heavy cock flopped into view. It was languid and flaccid, but full and turgid at the same time.

As he stepped out of his trousers and stood before me, I marveled at the sight. He was standing in only an open white shirt and his engorged cock was arcing out between the tails of his shirt. It was a weird dichotomy of formal and erotic. His magnificent hairless cock - which was continuing to grow - pushed out forcefully between his white shirttails.

I put my hands on the fronts of his thighs and, as I looked up at him, stuck my tongue out and slipped it under the head of his slightly drooping cock. I lifted his cock with my tongue so it was angled up above level. He watched in awe as my tongue swirled back and forth underneath - focusing on what he called his "spot". Within sixty seconds I was able to pull my tongue away and his cock stayed where it was - his erection now in full bloom.

"Dear girl. What you do to me?"

I put my hand on his now erect cock and pushed it back against his stomach. Now I had clear access to his huge testicles and I began to nuzzle and kiss his hairless ball sac. He gently stroked my hair as I took care of him the best way I knew how. After eagerly sucking his balls for a minute or two, he lifted my chin up and spoke.

"I want you to do something for me," he said, as he wandered over to the leather sofa. He sat down, his stiff cock bobbing sinfully as he got comfortable. I remained kneeling and watching as he slowly spread his legs for me. My God, his cock looked magnificent.

"Crawl to me," he instructed. It was only ten feet, but I turned to him and flaunted my body - caressing my breasts and cupping my pussy - for a minute before leaning forward from my kneeling position. I kept my eyes on his as I crawled slowly on all fours - my small breasts dangling slightly, nipples rock hard.

As I got closer he spread his legs even wider. His cock looked so delicious and so incredibly hard. My mind flashed back to that first day in class. I'm quite sure, among all the many thoughts that raced through my head that day, that crawling toward his hard cock on all fours was among them. And now here I was - doing exactly that.

I paused as I came within touching distance and leaned forward to kiss the inside of his left knee - and then the right. Slowly - going from side to side - I kissed my way up his smooth inner thighs. His white shirt lay open and exposed his well-defined chest. Not bad for a man three times older than me. His eyes bore down on me - watching expectantly as I began to kiss and nuzzle up against the ball sac I had just left.

But my goal on this trip up and over his cock was different than before. I was quite sure he was ready to fuck and so was I. This mission was to just get him so impossibly hard and incredibly ready that he'd fully appreciate that moment when I sunk down on his glorious cock. I maintained plenty of eye contact as I gave his balls a little tender wet love, his shaft a good popsicle licking, until I was lashing my tongue on his "spot" and on the verge of consuming him. He knew what was coming too; I could see it in his eyes.

As I got ready to go over the top and down, I cupped his enormous gonads in one hand and held the base of his thick rigid shaft in the other. I looked him in the eye as I tongued a bead of precum on his tip and spread it around his upper shaft. And then I heard him gasp as I went down as far as I could and held it there for a few seconds, before pulling off and breathing deep. A thin line of grool spanned between the tip of his cock and my lower lip. I knew he was appreciating the slutty things I was doing, contrasting so sharply with my naturally innocent looks.

I didn't give him much room for contemplation before taking one more deep dive. He gasped as he heard my gurgling cough - the sound of a windpipe that is blocked by a thick slab of cock meat.

"Ahhhh, fuck, Altina. Yesssss."

He had me right where he wanted me - getting him rock hard and primed to fuck. I felt no resistance as I got up off of my knees and moved up on to the sofa to face and straddle him. I reached down and palmed his shaft - gently stroking the top third as I leaned in to kiss him again. I couldn't keep my body still. His tongue was all over mine and there was none of the gentle pretense of previous kisses. This was a knowing kiss - knowing exactly what was about to happen.

I arranged his cock so it was sticking straight up into the air. I grasped him low by the root and guided him from down there - sliding this thick bulbous head back and forth along my juicy groove. I didn't need to look; I knew I was leaving my hot juices all over his thick cock head.

I seated his bulbous head at my entrance and we both looked at one another as if to say, "Here we go." He sat perfectly still - for the moment, happy to let me use his cock for my own pleasure...and his. He was about to enter me - at least with his cock - for the very first time.

We looked deep into each other's eyes as I let go and put both of my hands on his muscular shoulders. His hungry eyes and open mouth spoke volumes. The man who always seemed to have something to say, was speechless.

I sunk down an inch, up, then down two, up, then a little deeper. I moved my body slowly - wanting him to feel every inch of penetration. His cock felt so incredibly hard - like a sturdy column of marble that I was easing into my tight young hole. Both of us had our mouths open as we moved - and we joined for an open mouth kiss that featured swirling tongues and deep-seated groans.

Once he was half-way in I began to move more steadily. I broke our kiss and looked at him as I slid up and down - up and down. Truth be told, I would have been happy to fuck half of what he was packing. But I knew there was more and I knew it would drive him crazy to feel me bottom out on his gorgeous dick.

I felt his heavy hands on my hips now, beginning to take more control of the speed and depth. He became more demanding as he pushed me down deeper - making it clear now that he wanted me to impale myself on his towering manhood. I kept dropping deeper and deeper, expecting to bottom out. Our expressions made it look like if we opened our eyes and mouths wide enough, my pussy would follow suit.

"Uunnnhh."

I let out a deep seated grunt. I could felt our pubic bones meet in a final deep drop as he thrust up and in that last delicious inch. I was impaled on the entirety of his cock and we rested for a minute. I felt his hands clasping my ass and kneading my spread cheeks. I could feel his hips stirring below - grinding his cock in a slow circle - swirling my insides.

We rested for only a few seconds as I felt him stir. I began to move again - rising up and down. Now I was letting his cock out - instead of letting it in. I rose up and then dropped down using gravity - over and over. A thick fleshy slapping sound emerged from down below as our bodies began to move as one. I'd lift up and he'd pull back just a little -before I'd drop down hard and he'd thrust up to meet me - our loins crashing together. I could feel his hands grasping my bottom - guiding me up and down the length of his long pole. It was a deep humping cowgirl fuck of the first order. I felt so full - so complete.

I leaned back and put my hands on his knees. Now he could see my body and watch his cock filling me up. My breasts were his for the taking and he held them with his palms open and against my nipples as he felt me ride up and down with increasing fervor.

"Yes, Ms. Beck. That's it, young lady. Ride that cock for me," he seethed. His eyes were glued to my mound as I worked my riding magic on his rigid sword. His hands continued to move all over me - savoring my body and cradling every moving contour. It was our moment...our first fuck.

I could feel he was teeming with need by this point and knew he was going to take control very soon. I leaned forward once again to try one last move before he grabbed me unmercifully and took me the way I know he needed to.

I placed my hands back on his shoulders and rose up until just the tip of his cock was still engaged. I looked into his wild eyes as I barely moved up and down, fucking just the head of his cock. His eyes were glazed over with lust. Then, continuing to hold on with my left hand, I reached down and behind and cupped his generous ball sac. It felt so smooth and soft in my hand.

Looking at him with a devilish smile, I pulled up on his balls and sank down his long thick shaft, eliciting a deep animalistic growl as I impaled my entire body on him once again. It just goes to show that even the mostly highly educated and erudite professor can be brought to basic Aboriginal groans by a young hot pussy.

Professor Walton was like a sleeping giant coming alive after my final descent. He practically threw me off his body as he stood tall and rearranged me on the sofa. I think I read his mind as I got on my knees and faced the rear of the sofa. I looked back over my shoulder and saw his glistening cock protruding stiffly and bouncing with anticipation.

He quickly moved up behind me and I immediately felt the head of his cock re-engage with my pussy. Everything up this point had been sexy, but measured. But I'd always felt that Professor Walton harbored a deep and powerful sexual force that was about to be unleashed. I had no one but myself to blame. But, in all honesty, it was exactly what I wanted. And it was clear from the way he began to manhandle my petite body that he felt the same way.

With little fanfare he slipped back inside me. But now, instead of me riding him and responding to his signals, he was in complete control of my body and our impending fuck. I was but a receptacle for his intense lust at this point and I pushed my ass back toward him to encourage him as much as I could.

"Get ready, Ms. Beck," he whispered, with mayhem in his dark voice.

His first thrust was so deep and powerful that it pushed the breath out of my body with a "whoooff". He curled his rough hands out over the swell of my hips and used them as leverage as he began slamming into me.

I thought I was expecting it. I thought I'd been well-fucked before. But nothing prepared me for the depth and intensity of this man. His cock speared me with a power I had never experienced before. I went from casually leaning against the back of the sofa to holding on for dear life. His hips began to smack against my ass in a staccato rhythm of carnal craving. He wasn't just fucking my pussy; he was fucking my whole body - and my mind.

He was like a whirling dervish behind me now. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back; causing me to arch my back so he could drive his dick even deeper. I was barely aware of the way my breath was being forced out of me with each driving pump of his hips. He put one leg up on the sofa cushions to angle his cock slightly and this allowed him to drive even deeper.

I tried to formulate words, but only raw sounds erupted from deep in my throat. Professor Walton started spanking my body at random moments, then had his hand around my throat as he leaned in by my ear - not to say anything, just to let me hear his carnal growl as he drove himself deeper than I had ever imagined a man could go.

And then, in a flurry of hips and ass and thighs and pussy and cock, I felt his body slam into me in a way that made me feel like we'd be conjoined forever. He roared like a lion as I felt bolt after bolt after bolt of his hot seed splash deep into my womb. The moment overwhelmed me as well as I felt my own orgasm crash into my body at full speed. There was no connectivity to the pulsing rhythms of our thrusting bodies and our own private spasms of release. I felt his fluids caroming off my vagina walls as my pussy constricted and pulsed to milk him of every fucking drop of his semen.

I'm not sure either of us knew when it had ended as we both panted and sweated and let our bodies try to search for normal again. I slowly became aware of his breathing and could now hear my own lungs gasping for air as our pounding hearts began to slow down and come off the ledge.

"Oh, Professor," I croaked as I finally found my voice.

He gingerly let his cock fall out of my pussy and I could feel our fuck juices cascading down my inner thighs. Thank God for a leather couch. He moved from behind me and plopped down on the sofa next to me. I turned and sat next to him as his arm reached for me and he pulled me against his side.

"Dear girl. You really are quite something - you know that?" I curled up next to him and we let our bodies slowly recover and our pulses gradually regain some semblance of normalcy. I placed my hand on his chest and traced errant designs on his hairless pecs. It felt like a moment of twisted domestic bliss as we curled, cuddled and drifted into a much-needed early evening cat nap.

And so went the remainder of our school year. We had six more weeks to finish both the semester and to submit an edited galley of Professor Walton's book to his publisher. We went back to our half and half schedule - spending an hour working and an hour playing. With a little extra time put in at the end of the semester, we made the deadline.

Each week we would vary our play time. Some days it was me focusing on Professor Walton and his wonderful penis. Other days were devoted to pussy and mound worship of the highest order. Other days we'd just fuck - sometimes gently and lovingly; other times with a rough frenzy that bordered on violent. Professor Walton pushed all my buttons, including some I didn't even know I had until he helped me discover them.

But some things remained constant. We always met in his office. I never saw the inside of his house or his bed. It was as if that would somehow cross a line, which seemed odd given all the taboos we'd shared, but also seemed right.

I knew that Professor Walton was to be on sabbatical the following year, but I was unclear when that might start. He was slated to spend the year in Paris at the Sorbonne as a visiting lecturer and critic. I was thrilled that he was doing something so exciting, yet he remained rather blasé about his impending sabbatical year.

When the semester finished and the book was submitted, Professor Walton took me away for an extended weekend up to the White Mountains as a way to celebrate. He rented a small cabin with a magnificent view and we whiled the hours away either hiking or cooking when we were up, or having sex in the large king bed with a view when we were not.

That was the first time he tied me up - binding my wrists above my head and attaching them to the heavy wrought iron headboard. I never realized how arousing it would be to not have access to my hands and arms as he went down on me. It felt like my body was extra stimulated not being able to touch him or myself. I remember the orgasms that came during that session as a few of the most powerful I had ever experienced.

I also gave him my first foot job. He was a connoisseur of the female body and that included, apparently, my feet. He loved the view of my bare pussy and slender legs as I slid my oiled soles up and down his magnificent cock. And, I have to admit, I took great pleasure in watching the power of his ejaculations when my lubricated feet jerked off his massive manhood.

Professor Walton was a merchant in pleasure. His goal was for us both to experience as much pleasure as possible. There were limits, but not many - and he taught me how to feel comfortable pushing my own envelope.

Our affair carried on through the early summer as he was not leaving for Paris until early August. Without the book to edit, we had more time to devote to studies in the erotic arts. I learned to embrace toys, worked on edging - both receiving and giving - and found I enjoyed anal play more than I thought I might. I learned how to give a prostate massage and he learned how to make me squirt. I learned the erotic act of rimming, which drove Professor Walton absolutely crazy - and he taught me to enjoy having my bottom worshiped and adored.

It was a magical summer, but one we both knew would come to an end. By the time he was back on campus, I would be a graduate and moved on. I harbored fantasies of going to visit him in the City of Lights, but they never materialized. We did stay in touch, however - sporadically, but often enough to stay connected.

He shared a little about his work in Paris, but it did begin to feel like our relationship had run its course. Meanwhile, I had to buckle down and focus on my last year in school. I graduated with honors the next year and followed my dream of moving to New York. I found a wonderful paid intern position with a policy think tank and figured I'd spend a year or two immersing myself in New York before returning to school and a Master's degree.

I would still hear from Professor Walton on occasion, but our connection seemed to be slipping into the pleasant past.

Then, a few days ago, I received a text from him saying he was going to be in New York in two weeks. I was, of course, overjoyed at the prospect of seeing him again. That joy was short-lived, however, when he added that he'd be visiting with a female friend.

But it began to become clear as we traded messages that that was the exact point.

Him: I think you will like her, Altina. She's your contemporary.

Me:Perhaps. Tell me about her.

Him: She's French, but grew up in Zimbabwe. Very beautiful, very petite, beautiful dark skin and long dark luxurious hair. It would contrast so wonderfully with yours. And, she has other physical attributes similar to you. 