Cum On My Glasses

My cock was jutting out longer and harder than it ever had in my life. Professor Milford, kneeling before me, reached out and grabbed the shaft from underneath. Her fingers were smooth and cool, and I sucked in my breath at her touch. Her red fingernails stood out in stark contrast to the smooth pink skin of my shaft. She began slowly stroking it, forward and backwards.

She looked me dead in the eyes. "I want you to cum all over my glasses," she said throatily, with a nasty gleam in her eyes. "I want you to drench me with a nice big load of your hot cum. I want you to soak me like the slut that I am!" She kept executing long, slow strokes up and down my shaft as she spoke.

The feeling was incredible; it was like electrical jolts were leaping from her talented fingertips to the flesh of my cock. And staring down into her eyes, wild and needful behind her glasses, made the feeling all the more intense.

"Give me your jizz, Patrick! Shoot it all over my face. Cover my glasses with your big load of spunk!" She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose with her middle finger and stared all the more intently at the business end of my dick.

She nestled my taut scrotum in the palm of one hand, gently jostling my gonads, while her other hand continued to jack up and down my shaft. Each time her hand came to my cock head, she gave it a twist, stimulating the sensitive rim, and sending shivers up and down my spine. I could feel my knees getting weaker with each stroke. My thighs were starting to throb and my hips were beginning to buck.

She moved her face closer to the spongy head of my buzzing penis. She extended the tip of her tongue and lightly licked the gaping slit. "Give it to me, Patrick. Shoot that big load all over my glasses and all over my face. Frost me like a birthday cake! Treat me like the cumslut that I am!"

My head was reeling and my heart was pounding; sweat was breaking out on my brow and my cock felt like it was caught between Heaven and Hell, ready for judgment day! I needed release, and I knew it wouldn't be long in coming....

************************

Today had started like an ordinary day; like any other day in the life of a nerdy college sophomore. I had woken up late, as usual, and barely made it to my first morning class, Finance 250, before the buzzer. I struggled to keep my eyes open and take notes. Then a mad race across campus to my Accounting 221 class; more tedium. A hasty lunch on the Quad, then afternoon classes and some studying at the library. Then, finally, back to the dorm for dinner in the cafeteria.

I had dinner with my roommate Stuart, as usual. We bitched about classes and gossiped about our classmates. Then Stuart nudged my arm and pointed with his eyes across the room.

"There she is. Mary Sue."

I looked. Sure enough, it was Mary Sue Henderson. Both of us were in love with Mary Sue. We didn't consider it an official dinner until we spotted her across the cafeteria. She was so cute, and sweet, and kind to everyone. Blonde and stacked and dimpled and beautiful. She was sitting by herself, reading a sociology book while eating her dinner. She was wearing a fuzzy pink sweater that emphasized her voluptuous figure. Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She was perfect.

"Why don't you go talk to her?"

"Why don't YOU go talk to her?" I said. "You chicken?"

Stuart was as big of a dork as I was. We both knew that neither of us had the balls to talk to the beautiful Mary Sue. But we were happy to admire her from afar.

"Ohmigod, ohmigod... She's coming this way!" Stuart dropped his voice to a whisper. "Don't look," he said.

But I was already staring, my mouth open, my forkful of food suspended in mid-air. I tried to look away but she had already caught my eye. It was too late.

"Hi Patrick!" she said in the sweetest voice in the world as she approached our table. "How's classes and stuff?"

All I could do was gulp and mumble. "Mmmm, uhhh, okay I guess?" Then I looked down at my plate.

Mary Sue rolled her eyes and shook her head. "See you guys later!" And she strode on out of the cafeteria.

"You dork! That was your shot! You blew it!"

"I know. God, I am such a loser!"

"Don't worry. Stick with me and I'll teach you all about talking to women."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I could use a beer. Let's go down to The Minnow."

An hour later, we were at the dive bar near campus known as The Minnow. This is not a fancy place. It's a place with cheap drinks for people who feel like getting drunk. It was exactly what we needed at the moment. After a few beers, we were both feeling better about ourselves.

"I wish there was a team of cheerleaders in here tonight," said Stuart. "Because I would march right over and ask every one of them out!"

"Yeah, and every one of them would turn you down!"

"No matter. I've got confidence. That's what counts."

"What you've got is called Liquid Courage. It will evaporate as soon as you sober up."

"Well what about you? How's your confidence."

I thought for a moment. Maybe it was just the beer, but I was feeling more confident. "I think I've got a modicum of confidence. Better than before, anyway."

Stuart looked around, searching for a woman to turn me loose on. There were slim pickings. This was not the kind of establishment that coeds hang out in. But there was one older woman sitting at the bar nursing a drink alone. He motioned with his head in her direction. "What about that one?"

I looked her over. She was a bit past her sell-by date, but still had a decent shape. Her hair was a blend of black and gray, and she was showing a bit of crinkly cleavage. She was wearing thick black librarian-style glasses and had bright red fingernails. Then I realized that I knew her; she had been my professor in an English class my freshman year! What was a faculty member doing in a townie bar?

Stuart stood up, a bit wobbly. "I gotta take a leak. Why don't you go talk to the old broad? It will help your confidence." Then he shuffled off towards the back of the room.

I glanced toward the woman. She had caught me looking at her, and now she caught my gaze. She pointed at me, and made a "come here" motion with her index finger.

I raised my eyebrows and pointed at my chest, who me? She nodded and patted the empty bar stool next to her. Remembering my modicum of confidence, I thought, why not? I got up and went to sit down next to her. She had a glass of yellowish liquor and an ashtray full of cigarette butts in front of her. She smelled of smoke and licorice.

"Do I know you?" she asked, slightly slurring her words.

"Yes, Professor Milford. You were my instructor for English Composition last year."

"Oh. Did you pass?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's your name?"

"Patrick."

"Patrick.... Doesn't ring a bell. But no matter." She looked me up and down. Her head was tilted, like she was thinking about something. Then she seemed to come to a decision. "What are you drinking, Patrick?"

"Just beer, ma'am."

"Barkeep! Another Pernod over here, and a draft for my friend." She stubbed out her cigarette and lit another one. "What are you studying, Patrick?"

"Um, accounting."

"Accounting. That sounds very tedious. But maybe you find your excitement in other areas of your life?"

"Ma'am?" Even though she was old enough to be my mother's older sister, I still felt excited being near her; the smell of booze on her breath, her shiny nylons and her high heels, the ashtray full of cigarette butts; it was all so... mature!

She was staring at me over her sexy librarian glasses. "So tell me, Patrick. When was the last time you had an orgasm?"

"Umm, a few days ago." I don't know why I answered such a personal question. Something about her unvarnished frankness made me feel like being completely open with her.

"How about one with a partner?"

"That was a lot longer ago."

"I see." She stubbed out her cigarette and downed her glass of Pernod. "Come with me." She slid off her stool and took my hand. Her grip was firm and cool.

"Where are we going?"

"My place. I just live a block away."

We walked silently down the sidewalk to a residential block. Professor Milford had a long, quick stride, and she was confident on her heels, even with a few drinks in her. Before long, we reached a tidy bungalow with a nice front lawn. She let us in the front door.

I looked around. The place was furnished tastefully, if a bit old-fashioned. There was a large, plush sofa, several matching easy chairs, and a low table. There was a very nice area rug on the floor. Also lots of books on shelves along the walls. Several lamps were on, but all at dim levels.

"You... you have a lovely home, Professor Milford. Do you live here alone?" I looked around nervously.

She seemed amused by the question. "I have a husband, if that's what you mean. He's a physicist. He's at his lab. He's always at his lab." She snorted derisively. "Do you know why I brought you here?"

"No, ma'am."

"Because I am a nasty slut, and I need to be treated like one. You are going to be the one to do it. Is that okay with you?"

I gulped. Modicum of confidence, remember? I could do this. "Yes, ma'am."

"And stop calling me ma'am for goodness sake. You can call me Professor if you must, or you can just call me Slut. Either one is fine. Now take your clothes off." And with that, she started to disrobe.

My mouth must have been hanging open, because she reached out and pushed my chin up. "Let's go, strip!" She had already dropped her dress to the floor and stepped out of it, and pulled off her slip. She turned around and said, "Unhook me, will you?"

I've fumbled with a few bras in my life, but never gotten very good with them. But at least the clasp of hers was facing me. I managed to unhook it without too much trouble. She turned back to face me and I watched it fall to the floor, and her breasts tumble out. They were a bit saggy, but still full. Her nipples were large and crinkly. The skin above her breasts was wrinkled like crepe paper.

She gave me a sideways look and I realized that I had not been stripping as commanded. I hastily kicked off my shoes and dropped my pants, and pulled my shirt off over my head. She still had her nylons on, and her high heels, so I left my underpants on. For the moment.

"Almost there," she said. She grabbed my shoulders and moved me to an open area of the room away from the area rug, over the hardwood flooring. She grabbed a pillow off a sofa and dropped it at my feet, then dropped to her knees in front of me. She slid her hands up and down my bare legs; her palms were cool and smooth. I could feel my cock stretching my underpants into a circus tent.

The Professor still had her librarian glasses on. I thought they were kind of sexy. She pushed them up the bridge of her nose and stared at my bulge. "Very nice. Very nice indeed." She reached in the side of my briefs and I could feel her cool fingers on my balls. She began gently massaging them. A slight coo escaped from my throat.

But that wasn't enough for her. Soon she hooked two fingers into the waistband of my underpants and slid them to the floor. I was too transfixed to step out of them, so I just left them there around my ankles. She didn't care. She wrapped one hand around my shaft and started slowly jacking it up and down. Her grip was tight but not too tight; her motions were fast but not too fast. I could tell that she'd had lots of cock-handling experience, and she was playing mine like a Stradivarius.

"I want you to cum all over my glasses, Patrick." Her voice was low and throaty, sexy and sultry; the voice of a woman who had smoked a lot of cigarettes and had drunk a lot of booze over the years. It sent shivers up and down my spine. "I want you to drench me with a nice big load of your hot cum. I want you to soak me like the slut that I am!"

My arousal increased several notches at that, and I could feel my entire body vibrating. I looked down at her pendulous breasts, swaying in time with her strokes. I stared at her crinkly cleavage. I watched her bright red fingernails as her soft cool hands deftly manipulated the raging flesh of my cock. Then I watched as she parted her lips, leaned forward, and took me into her mouth!

I had never had a blowjob before. It was incredible. Her soft wet lips and tongue engulfed my cock head, but it felt like my entire body was deep inside her. I could feel her tongue swirling on my sensitive head, all the while she was still stroking my shaft and massaging my balls. The intense feelings in my groin ratcheted up yet another notch, and I knew my release would not be long in coming.

The Professor sensed it too, and took my cock back out of her mouth. She stared right into my eyes, and in her raspy, throaty voice, said it one more time. "Cum on my glasses, Patrick. Cum all over my face. Now!"

I did. I closed my eyes and felt the pit of my stomach falling off a cliff. Her hand never left my cock, but kept pumping and pumping. I could feel jolt after jolt of cum rocketing out of my dick. I forced my eyes to open; I didn't want to miss this! Several ropes of sperm had already fallen directly on the lenses of her glasses and were starting to drip down to her cheeks. The next one landed on her nose, then her cheek, then her hair. She kept pumping me, and the semen kept pouring out. She used my cock like a lipstick and coated her lips with it, then her cheeks, then her nostrils. By the time I was done, her face was glazed like a donut. Her eyes were closed, and she was smiling. Grinning even. I thought I heard her humming to herself.

I stood there for several minutes, motionless, watching her. My body was still shivering with the residual pleasure of my orgasm, but it eventually started to calm down. I could see why she had moved me to the hardwood floor; the mess would have ruined her nice carpet.

Professor Milford took off her glasses, and started licking the cum off of the lenses; the same tongue that had worked such magic on my cock was now licking up my spunk. She kept humming to herself between swallows. She happened to glance up and saw me standing there, underpants around my ankles and cock starting to droop.

"Are you still here? You can go now." And then she closed her eyes, and began scooping up cum from her cheeks with one stiff finger, and stuffing it into her mouth. She seemed to have completely dismissed me from her mind.

I yanked up my underpants, gathered up my clothes from the floor, and let myself out the door into the cool night. It was a short walk back to the dorm.

As I walked quickly down the sidewalk, I couldn't help but notice an extra spring in my step. Damn, I was actually swaggering! This little episode with the Professor had nurtured my modicum of confidence into a fountainhead! I felt like I could do anything! I took off a woman's bra with one hand! I came all over her face! I'm a stud! I briefly thought about heading to one of the campus bars and seeing if I could pick up a cheerleader. But, it was still a school night, and it was getting late. I hoped that I would still feel this confidence in the morning. So I just went back to the dorm.

Stuart was already home and asleep, snoring drunkenly. I tumbled into bed and fell asleep immediately, and dreamt of crinkly cleavage, nylon stockings, and wiggly tongues licking cum off eyeglass lenses.

************************

The next morning, I woke up an hour early for class. Stuart was still snoring in his bed. I was fully awake and alert, firing on all cylinders, and full of energy! The encounter with Professor Milford had certainly given me a boost in my self-confidence that was sticking around. I got to class early, got a good seat, and followed the lecture with rapt attention. I even raised my hand and answered a few questions. My other classes of the day went the same way. I hadn't felt this good and upbeat in a long time!

I was still smiling and walking with a spring in my step when I met Stuart in the cafeteria for dinner. He looked up at me quizzically.

"What's with you? Did you just swagger over to the table? And what the hell happened to you last night? When I came out of the restroom, you were gone."

"I went home with that old broad."

"What!?" He nearly dropped his fork. "You did? For real?"

"Yup." I sat down on the other side of the table, swinging my leg over the back of the chair, Commander Riker style. This was fun.

"And?"

"She was a freak, Stuart. She took me to her house, kneeled down in front of me, and jerked me off all over her face and glasses. She even sucked my dick a little. It was unreal."

"Wow. Just, wow!" He looked at me sideways. "Are you going to see her again?"

"I dunno! After I frosted her face, she dismissed me and I left. But I'd certainly like to do it again."

"Well, that explains your confidence and your swagger. You're all pumped up with sexual energy. Don't waste it!"

At that moment, Mary Sue Henderson was just walking into the cafeteria, with a giant anthropology book under her arm. I decided to take Stuart's advice and not waste my current abundance of confidence. "Have a nice dinner, Stuart; I've got other plans!" I got up from the table and quickly sauntered over to Mary Sue's side.

"Hello, Mary Sue! You are looking lovely tonight. Do you have a companion for dinner?"

Mary Sue looked me up and down, her eyes wide. She was clearly surprised to see me so outgoing and engaging. I was kind of surprised, myself!

"Why Patrick, I was just going to study while I ate, but I'd love to have a charming dinner companion." We went to the food line together, grabbed our trays, and filled them up with food. It was casserole night, and we each got a large ladle of mac-and-something on our plates, plus some sides and drinks. Then we took a private table for two off to the side of the room.

"So, Mary Sue. Do you always study while you eat? You must be very dedicated." I tried to focus on her eyes rather than stare at her breasts, rising and falling under her fuzzy sweater. But it wasn't easy!

"Well, I'm a triple major: Sociology, anthropology, and archeology."

"That's a lot of ologies!"

She giggled. It made her eyes twinkle and her dimples deepen. "Oh, Patrick, you're so funny. I could talk to you all night!" She briefly touched my arm and I nearly swooned.

She was pushing her casserole around with her fork, looking for edible bits. "How's your dinner?" I asked.

She made a face. "It's cafeteria food. What do you expect?" But she shrugged her shoulders as if it was no worse than expected.

"We'll have to go out for a real dinner one of these nights. Maybe to Rocco's Tacos. I've been wanting to try that."

"Oh, that would be great! I'd love that."

Things were going so well, I decided to swing for the bleachers. Don't want to waste that confidence, you know? "Maybe we can get out of here and go out for a beer in campus town?" I looked at her expectantly.

She looked at me, a little shyly. "I have cold beer up in my suite. My suitemates are out for the night. If you'd be interested, that is."

"Awesome!" I stood up. "Whenever you're ready."

She stood up and grabbed her tray, her face beaming. We deposited our trays on the conveyor and headed for the hallway. I decided to go for broke and took her hand. She let me. Soon we were on the elevator going up to her floor.

"You said you have suitemates?"

"Yes, the girl's dorm is all suites. Mine is three small bedrooms and a bathroom and a common area. But we'll have it all to ourselves tonight. Ella and Chloe usually stay over with their boyfriends." This was news to me. The boy's dorm is all double rooms with a communal bathroom down the hall.

The elevator door opened with a loud DING. We walked down the hall, still hand in hand. She opened the door to the suite with her key. We entered a tiny living room with a small couch and a smaller fridge. Mary Sue got two bottles of beer out of the fridge. We sat down side by side.