Class Presentation

At last, he set his jaw and began pressing into me steadily. Our gazes were locked, unblinking. I continued smiling vacuously. Behind my eyes, though, I was a bit dazed by the new waves of sensation. How was it possible that I was so wet, so slack, and yet still he generated so much friction?

It was slow going, and Shafer grunted with effort as, bit by bit, centimeter by centimeter, he pressed his way inside me. It didn't hurt, but it felt a little uncomfortable, a little unnatural, to be crammed so full. On and on he went, planting his flagpole deeper, and still deeper in my cunt. And then at last, despite myself, I gasped. He had hit bottom. I was able to take him, but just barely. Any further and I was sure he would have banged smack into my cervix (ouch!). His balls rested up against my ass, and his groin mashed gloriously up against my clit. I felt stretched, and stuffed, and ill-used, and over-stimulated, and... and... wonderful...

For long seconds he just paused there, wedged firmly in my vagina, looking me in the eye. At that moment he was hard to read. Like, maybe he didn't know what to feel. Potent? Victorious? Embarrassed? Ashamed?... I thought maybe he was waiting for me to react, so that then he would know what to feel.

Over his shoulder, a motion caught my eye, and I broke our connection. I could see that one of the more pervy boys in our class, Bryan K., had circled around to that side of the stage. I knew well enough what the view looked like from there. He was peering at my ass, in-between Shafer's thighs, for visual confirmation that the man was indeed buried hilt-deep inside me. He gave an exaggerated grin and thumbs-up gesture to the crowd, and snapped a pic with his phone. A new round of babbling broke out in the auditorium, and a steady stream of (male) gawkers slouched sheepishly over to check out the view from his vantage point. Well, whatever—guys gonna guy...

Shafer was oblivious to all this. He seemed to have taken my glance away as some kind of signal. Lowering his head so that I could no longer see his face, still laying heavily atop my body, he tilted his pelvis, until his penis had withdrawn almost all the way out.

Ok, I'll admit it—for a second I feared he was going to leave me hanging. I'm not a robot, you know. But that wasn't what he had in mind at all. Instead, he entered me again with a shallow, gyrating thrust. Every nerve in my pussy tingled and radiated. Then he gave another small thrust; and another. For the next several minutes, gradually increasing the pace, he pistoned into me, over and over, in and out, always shallow, always just enough tease to my entrance but no more. Though I'm sure he didn't intend it, I found this maddening. Don't get me wrong—the feel of him against the extra-sensitive flesh of my opening was exquisite, and I'm sure it felt good on his glans, too. But deeper inside I felt empty. What I really wanted in that moment wasn't stimulation—it was to have him fill me again, completely.

And then at last, just when I thought I couldn't take any more sensory overload, he engaged his glutes and pounded home again, all the way, in one swift, decisive, powerful motion. It was glorious. By now, I was so aroused, so stretched out, so damn wet, that he could enter me with ease. God it felt good. Again: wham! And again: wham! Once more, he started slow, and then oh-so-gradually escalated the pace—ramping up his speed and intensity in small, exhilarating, carefully-calibrated increments. It was all instinct. He was clearly on auto-pilot at this point—beyond caring about anything else, and building toward a finale that had at last become inescapable for both of us.

My brain was buzzing, my body was writhing with ecstasy, and honestly most of my attention had long since shifted to my crotch—but still, something nagged at me. Oh yeah, my lines! This will sound really stupid, but it was still important to me, to some part of me at least, to finish the scene. You know, like a point of pride.

I forced a high giggle out between my teeth. Shafer didn't respond, just rammed home again with what seemed like proprietary abandon: bam! His urgency was palpable, his breathing labored. I guess he had other things on his mind.

Still, the show must go on. "I was just remembering at lunch, Joe." Bam! "On the menu it said: 'Today's special:'." Bam! "Broiled hothouse tomato..." Bam! "...under a generous slice of ripe cheese."

I gave a girlish squeal—and I swear it was just at that moment that, Slam! he started ejaculating inside me.

It was a funny feeling. I'd never let a boy come inside me before. I always made them use a condom. I think I could feel the first jet of semen as it splashed my cervix. Hardly surprising—the man was wound up so tight it must have blasted out like a fire-hose. At any rate, the flood of warmth in my cunt was unmistakable. Wildly, desperately, needily he plowed me—every pulsating thrust depositing another pearly gush of cum so very deep inside. I bucked my hips in time with him, savoring the liquid heat that flowed up and around his pole each time he filled me, and the sticky waves of seed that he forced up into my uterus and ovaries. I really should have tried bareback sooner.

Shafer must have poured a month's worth of sperm into my canal. I'd seen how much was left in the average college guy's condom, and it wasn't impressive. The circumstances here made it harder to judge, but I just knew it was more. So much more. So much it was sloshing around inside me, and spilling out, and trickling down my ass...

Which was only natural, I suppose. At a subconscious level, any middle-aged male who gets a free shot at a perfect 20-year-old female specimen is going to pump her with every last drop of jizz he can possibly muster, right? That's just evolution.

At length, though, he had well and truly emptied his testicles into me. And as soon as he had, he seemed to come out of a trance. I could feel his body tense up. In an instant, I think, the reality of his situation came crashing over him. He realized how reckless this had been; and he remembered how exposed he was, in every possible way. Oh, he'd relish the memory of fucking that dumb Asian girl in front of the class, all right—but only once he was sure it wasn't going come back on him. For now, he wanted to pull out, get away, and protect himself.

Well, that wasn't happening. Right now, it was Lisa's turn. Clapping my hand onto his lower back, I held him in place. He could have broken free, of course, if he'd exerted himself. But what he wanted was to slink away—he was in no frame of mind to defy me.

And although he was spent and self-conscious, I was happy to discover that Shafer's erection was still going strong. I tell you, I must have really got the guy revved up! Well, I could put that to good use. Finding my own slow, rhythmic, spellbinding cadence, I began to pleasure myself against his pole. The velvet skin of his shaft was slick with our intermingled fluids and it felt fabulous. I loved how his solidity filled up every inch of my canal. Each time I ground my pelvis and rubbed my clit up against his groin, a new wave of electrically-charged passion swelled up in my pussy, rolled through my chest, and crashed into my brain.

I closed my eyes and just let all my consciousness flow down to my crotch. It was so wet, and so warm, and so sensitive, and so powerful, and the drumbeat coursing through my body got stronger and stronger. And then at last I came, and I had never felt anything like it before. My vagina spasmed, again and again and again, and radiating waves of heat and sensation coursed through my limbs. Brilliant colors exploded behind my eyeballs, while my body jerked and quivered. In that moment of euphoria, I felt like I could do anything—that no one could control me, or stop me from getting what I wanted.

It seemed as if I could go on this way forever. I'd slow my tempo for a bit and take the edge off just slightly, and then unleash a new flurry of gyrations that sent me right back over the edge. I lost count of how many times the whirlwind of sensation and emotion had thundered through my brain. Every time I came it seemed like the experience was more profound and intoxicating than the last.

Eventually, though, a moment did come when I had had my fill. I stilled my body and allowed the final orgasm to fade gently away into a blissful emptiness. Mmmmmmmhh that had been nice. I hadn't had a fuck like that in, well, ever.

I took my hand off the professor's back. After a moment's hesitation, Shafer pulled out and stood up, dripping, red-faced, not yet ready to look at me and unsure what to do next.

I got up too, legs slightly wobbly, and turned so I was standing alongside him, facing the audience. Almost immediately, heavy, milky blobs of cum began to trickle out of my vagina and slide down my inner thighs. It had never quite registered with me before that unprotected sex would be so messy!

From the seats, thirty or so wide-eyed, open-mouthed students gawked at us, struggling to process what they had just seen. I grinned brightly. "And that concludes my scene. I would like to thank Professor Shafer for his assistance."

There was a moment of dead silence. Then, over to one side, Bryan began to clap, slow and loud. Almost immediately a few more joined in, and it quickly swelled to a resounding ovation, creating a din all out of proportion to the paltry crowd. They whistled, and shouted, and stomped, and mashed their hands together. Well, the guys did anyway. The girls? A few stood there with their arms folded, and most of the rest just made a show of being polite.

Still, the men, and a few of their more liberated sisters, thundered on, and on, and on. Semen began to patter onto the stage below me, and I felt a little bad for the janitors who would have to clean it up. Eww, right? I saw a couple of gals try to get their boyfriends to quit applauding, but they paid no attention. And although I'm sure the throng appreciated the show that they had just witnessed, I suspected that most of them were also trying to prolong their view of my naked, engorged, freshly-inseminated body. I couldn't really blame them.

As the clapping continued, I looked over at Shafer. He glanced back at me sheepishly. "Hey professor," I said lightly, "did I get my A?"

He sort of choked, and then nodded. Mission accomplished.

"In that case," I went on, "you won't have any trouble from me. But, if my parents see any videos of this, you will have trouble from them."

That thought jolted Shafer into finding his voice. Gesturing for quiet, he strode forward a couple of paces, shouting out hoarsely to get everyone's attention over the waning applause. "Thank you all for your outstanding performances today. I think I can safely say that everyone here will be getting an excellent grade. Now, remember that this is a safe space, and you are bound by the honor code to keep everyone's performances here today private. And... let me also remind you that sharing, ah, intimate recordings without the consent of the participants is a felony in this state. With that, goodbye and have a great summer."

I saw a few phones shoved hastily back into pockets and backpacks. That was a lot of lost-likes. Well, sorry guys—at least we gave you the makings for some epic fap sessions!

I bent over to pick up my coat and put it on. That appeared to be the signal to disperse. The students filed out with a rather subdued demeanor. Soon it was just the prof and me in the empty theater.

I was still gathering my underwear and stuffing it in my overcoat pockets when Shafer shuffled up to me. It seemed like he wanted to say something—like to, I don't know, apologize, or have a proper ending to the whole strange episode.

He remained naked from the waist down, and I couldn't resist a quick peek southward. Damned if his shaft wasn't still bright red and damp and sticking out like a poker! The man had unbelievable staying power. Granted most of the college boys I'd screwed were alcohol soaked, but I'd never seen one who could get it up like him.

He hesitated, and I couldn't resist filling the gap. "Oh professor," I said innocently, "I just want to check one thing with you. My girlfriends say you can't get pregnant the first time you have sex with a particular person. That's true, right? Like, even if you're not on birth control?"

Oh, the look on his face. He went as white as a sheet. After a minute I laughed and put him out of his misery. "Just kidding, professor. You really need to lighten up!"

He mustered a weak smile. "Look, uh, Lisa," he said haltingly. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. But now, technically, you aren't my student anymore. And... you know, we'd be free to... That is, maybe you'd... I thought maybe you'd like to go out on a date? Maybe this weekend?"

At that I had to laugh even harder. "Oh Prof," I said, "you're adorable. But school's out, and I have a lot of partying to do. I just don't see how I could find the time."

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek to let him know there were no hard feelings, and bounced out of the theater, feeling light and free.

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END

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