By The Hand of a Woman

Tyne managed a smile and said, "I have scotch, and more scotch. Have a preference?"

"I'll take scotch instead, if you don't mind," she cracked back, sitting and crossing her long legs.

Tyne reached into the top drawer of his desk and fetched another glass. He poured a drink for his guest, then filled his glass yet again. This time he prayed that the warmth of the scotch would take his mind off the heat percolating in other parts of his body. He pushed Sarah's drink toward her, across the top of the desk.

"Thank you, Professor," she said before swallowing a large potion of the amber liquid in her glass.

Well, thought Tyne, one thing in her favor – she can drink.

"Professor Tyne, I'm afraid we got off on the wrong foot earlier, and since Religious Studies is my major, and we will be seeing quite a bit of each other …"

"Miss Pollack," he began after draining his own glass, "if you're majoring in my area why wasn't I …"

Then Tyne recalled the asterisk on the class roster. Sarah Pollack was not only his student - he was to be her program advisor as well.

"The dean told me he would contact you, Professor."

"Yes. Well Miss Pollack, don't believe everything the dean tells you." The drinks had relieved some the discomfort Tyne felt earlier, and he noted how the blue of her eyes now seemed less stormy. In fact, he mused, this is one delicious young woman.

"So," Sarah continued, "I didn't want us to leave things as they were. I'm sorry if I barged in on something important, but I like to jump right in when I can …"

Tyne poured two more drinks and said, "Miss Pollack, this office is my sanctuary from the world of the college. I prefer to know when company is coming. However, you are new, and I was a touch rude,"

"You certainly were," she said before starting on her second drink.

Tyne felt a slight flash of anger at the interruption, but his face flushed for other reasons. He felt his anger twist and melt into something else. His body felt like a loose confederation of metal shards that was being drawn toward a large, powerful magnet. He took a long drink.

"Sorry for any offense Miss … well, since we'll be spending so much time together. I think we can move past our first stumbling, Sarah."

She finished her drink and said, "I would like to make an appointment for an advisement session, and if you don't mind I'll leave the paper I mentioned."

Tyne poured another round and said, "No time like the present – let's shee – er – see that paper."

Sarah reached down into her bag and Tyne took the opportunity to relish the fullness of her thighs and hips. She found it after a moment of sifting and leaned across the desk to hand it to him. Now Tyne was blessed with a view of Sarah's breasts as they pushed at the stretched fabric of her blouse. Her lips were also stretched - into a long, wet smile.

They downed their drinks at the same time, Tyne poured two more, and started to read the essay.

"Nice opening," he said. No mucking about – no qualifying. Good. Goood."

"Mind if I crack open a window" asked Sarah, "it's a little stuffy in here?"

"Be my guessht," replied Tyne, blushing this time at his slight slur. He pretended to clear his throat and continued, "Fine point here, most students miss the whole angle on prayer. Too caught up in the bedroom scene, I suppose."

"Oh, I deal with that too," said Sarah as she walked to the window behind Tyne's chair. He saw that her skirt had ridden up several inches, but she didn't seem to care.

"Like all the best Bible tales we have to infer the more … carnal details between the folks involved," she continued as she settled behind the chair and leaned over Tyne's shoulder. He felt her breasts press against his shoulders, and her perfume suddenly seemed more potent than all the scotch he had consumed. He hoped she couldn't see the steady bobbing under the fabric of his pants. He had reached the part of the paper she mentioned – the scene of the seduction - and was impressed with the explicit vividness of her imagination. Almost as explicit as his own, he thought, as he drank in the sea of perfume and booze around and inside him.

"Yes, hem, yes I see what you mean, Sarah," Tyne said a little louder than he intended, since he could barely hear himself above the flurry of blood pounding in his ears.

"I can see that you see," she replied. Her breath scalded the flesh behind his ear and his prick throbbed jackhammer fast. "I knew you'd be able to see, that's why I signed up for your class. Isn't it remarkable how sexy those stories are, if we just let ourselves imagine …"

As she spoke she changed positions, from behind to alongside the chair. She ran her hand along Tyne's chest, his thigh, as she lowered herself and kneeled on the floor. Tyne kept reading, almost half convinced that he must be imagining all this in the mist and midst of his drunken haze. "Poor Holofernes," Sarah resumed, "Laying beside this woman he's been desiring, floating in all the wine she's poured and he's drank, hard as rock - hard as his own sword"

Sarah placed her hand on Tyne's lap and cupped her hands around his bouncing, straining bulge.

"Yep, hard as a blade," she chanted as she unzipped the fly and slid her hands inside.

Tyne tried to retain his focus on the page. He couldn't decide …

He wanted to finish the paper before …

Wanted to prove his restraint and composure - but now Sarah's Judith on the page had her lips running up the shaft of Holofernes engorged penis …

Sarah tugged Tyne's member out from under the cotton tent of his underwear, free of the confines of his slacks, and said, "You must be up to the part where …"

She wrapped her lips around the base of his shaft and twirled the dark painted nails of her fingers in circles over the tip. Tyne forged ahead, just two more pages to go, but his hips had developed an agenda of their own, and were gyrating, ever so slightly, up against the warm wetness of Sarah's mouth and the tickling touch of her hand.

She ran her tongue up the taught, slick skin of Tyne's erection right as he came to the climactic moment of the paper. He might have made it unscathed - unlike Holofernes - if he had avoided one quick glance – a glance at Sarah's head in his lap – a glance at the unfocused blue passion in her eyes as she nibbled on the purpling head of his prick. Before he could look away he felt the scalding tingle and spasm of his release. Sarah opened her lips wide around him and with her hand pumped spray after spray of his semen into her mouth.

Tyne jerked violently, blown over the edge by those eyes that never lowered their gaze, even as she swallowed him whole. Not until he closed his own eyes, and rolled his head back on the chair, did she let him go. Sarah stood up, leaned forward and wiped her lips on the end of Tyne's tie before giving him a scotch tainted, sticky kiss.

"Just like Holofernes. Done in by your own sword," she said, unbuttoning her blouse.

Yes, thought Tyne, as he tried to catch what was left of his breath. This is going to be a very long, very intoxicating semester.