Her Favorite Professor, Always

"To me, relating to his perspective much more than hers, the idea is absurd," he said frankly. "But you would have a much better idea of what she is feeling that I would. If you think she has anxiety about it, then do include that. But consider having him be shocked by the idea that she thinks she is forgettable to him."

"Yeah," I nodded, "I like that. That's a good point. Thanks."

"I think the direction you're headed with that dialogue is a good one to follow. It builds tension. It shows desire. What pushes them over the edge?"

"I-I don't know... I guess that's maybe what I'm struggling with most. I don't know how to bridge the gap from conversation to physical contact. Can you help me with that part? Since he is the one making the first move and you're able to relate more to him than I can. What would push you over the edge?" I sort of regretted saying that last sentence. It had made it too personal, in my opinion. Too direct. I hadn't meant it like that. Just as a probing question. Luckily, he was polite enough not to call me out on it.

"I would think he replies to her question with confirmation that he did think about her over the years. I'm sure the memory would have come to him many times and I don't think he'd have any reason not to tell her that too. How does she react to hearing that?"

"Um, I think that makes her feel good and gives her butterflies. Maybe she says she's glad he did think of her like that. She thought of him too. She probably compared all her later lovers to him since he had been her first good experience with sex. I don't think she says that last part explicitly though. Not like that, or maybe not yet... Can this be the moment when he reaches out for her?" I asked.

"It can be whenever you want, Alice. This is your story to tell," he reminded me.

"Right," I nodded, decision made. "This is the moment then. At least for now, until I change my mind. So, he reaches for her hand. Actually, he holds out his hand to her probably," I corrected myself.

"And then?"

I fell silent, staring out the window at the trimmed grass in his front yard. Not sure what to say. I could visualize it so much more easily than I could verbalize it, especially on the spot in front of him. Once they made physical contact in the story, I knew brainstorming would become more difficult. There would be words that I wasn't comfortable saying around him. Or desires that would embarrass me to share.

"What would Megan do now," he said. Something in the softness of his voice drew my attention back to him.

It took me a moment to process what I was seeing. His hand was outstretched, motionless. It felt like my heart stopped in my chest. I knew what this moment was. It was a silent invitation. Clear as day. And one I could say no to easily without embarrassing either of us too much. But he was offering. There was no mistaking it. To say no, all I had to do was come up with a verbal reply to his question. To say yes... I simply had to reach out and touch him.

My mouth felt too dry to speak. I didn't know what to do in that moment. I didn't know what I wanted to do. Did I desire him? I desired the fantasy, I knew that. And here he was, willing to be my fantasy.

I had to make a decision.

I took a breath and looked him in the eyes as I stretched my arm out too and placed my fingers lightly on his palm. He took my hand in his as soon as I touched him. It almost felt magnetic. As if in a trance, I stood up. All I could do was look at him, amazed by what was happening.

I took a step closer so I stood next to his chair. "This is what Megan would do, I think," I said quietly, looking down at him.

"Do you want me to do what I think Professor Collins would do next?" he asked lowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Yes," I said, my voice barely a whisper as I granted him permission to take it a step further.

He pulled my hand lightly towards himself. Where I was standing, my legs were slightly on either side of one of his legs. When he pulled my hand down a little, I leaned in, now bracing myself with one knee on the chair while I straddled his leg--the chair was wide enough that I had room to do so comfortably. I was not fully sitting in his lap, but I was very close to him. Much closer than I'd ever been to him. My hand was still in his. Now that I was close enough, he placed my hand on the side of his neck and moved his own away.

"This is the part where he kisses her," he murmured.

"I think so too," I agreed. I couldn't remember the last time I breathed. He was going to kiss me.

His hand cupped my cheek and I leaned in.

This was insane. What was I doing? But the more I second guessed, the more I didn't want to over think it. I just wanted to do it.

The distance between our faces closed and our lips met lightly. I wondered if he was waiting for me to pull away. To decide that was as far in this little game as I wanted to go. But it wasn't and I didn't want to pull back. Was this why I had been so nervous all day? Obviously these thoughts had been on my mind on paper. But I thought that's where the desire ended. Had I written it into my own reality?

Instead of pulling away, I pressed my lips to his a little more firmly. As if that was the permission he had been waiting for, he kissed me back. It was still slightly reserved and it made me crave more.

We broke our kiss. Still close, I could feel his breath on my lips.

"They would probably want to kiss more, don't you think?" I asked softly. "She's wanted to kiss him from the moment she came back."

"He has too." His voice was slightly hoarse with desire. "He's been eager to taste her lips ever since he laid eyes on her again." Our noses brushed against each other.

His hands came to my waist and he pulled me back into a kiss. My hands rested on the sides of his neck, sliding up just enough to feel soft hair on the tip of my fingers. I shifted my weight, moving my leg from between his thighs and straddling him in earnest now, sitting in his lap. I wasn't grinding against him or pressing my pelvis hard on his. Yet. But I found I wanted to. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to know if his body was reacting to our closeness. Mine was. All hesitation was gone now that the line had been crossed.

It felt surreal to make out with him. I was actually in my professor's house. In his lap. In his arms. Fuck. How had this happened? This hadn't been my goal. I didn't think. But I wasn't mad about the turn of events either. I wanted to ask questions. I wanted to know when he had realized he wanted me. When he realized this was how the afternoon would go. Had this been on his mind when he suggested we come back to his house? But I wanted things that didn't involve talking much more.

We kissed slowly, savoring each other's lips. Hands began to explore bodies as we both became more comfortable and eager.

"Where does she want her professor to fuck her?" he asked lowly.

"Um, well, pussy and mouth for sure." Oh my god. He was actually going to fuck me. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

That made him laugh. "I meant what room. Living room? Bedroom?"

"Oh, uh..." I hoped he would like my suggestion. I thought he would. "Maybe she wants to remind him what her mouth feels like while he's seated in the chair in the living room. Then they can go upstairs to have sex?"

"I'm sure he'd enjoy that."

I could see that his breathing had grown slightly faster at the suggestion. I sank to the ground in front of him.

"You have to help me, Professor... to make sure I don't rush, just like you said."

"Yes, sweetie, I'll help you," he assured me, nodding. The way he said it made my tummy feel warm and my pelvis tingle. Apparently, this was exactly what I wanted.

I reached for his belt buckle, undoing it and then popping the button of his blue jeans free. Though I hadn't rubbed the front of his pants yet, I could now see and feel that the fabric was stretched quite tight. I could see the outline of his package in his black briefs as soon as I pulled the zipper down. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was amused as I remembered having written him in such a similar outfit in my first story. No wonder it felt like I'd written it about him. Right down to the underwear.

I pulled the fabric of his underwear to the side, getting my first glimpse of his manhood. I carefully reached for it with my fingers, pulling it free of its confines. The moment I did, it sprung up to greet me excitedly. It was warm and thick and solid, a lovely tan color and lightly veiny. The dark pink shade of the swollen helmet made his cock look excited for me. I rested my hands on his thighs, sliding them up his legs. I felt like I was in a dream.

He felt completely rigid when I wrapped my hand around his piece. I squeezed his manhood gently, experimentally, and it flexed in return. I glanced up at him, meeting his gaze as I leaned in closer to his cock. His eyes were fixed on me, full of lust. I'd thought he'd been completely hard before, but as I moved my hand up his shaft, I felt it growing more rigid and even a bit bigger.

I touched my tongue to the tip, enjoying the lightly salty taste of his excitement. I swirled it around, urging myself to salivate and generously lubricate his cock. I held his swollen head in my mouth and started to suck, every so often flicking my tongue over the tip which made him gasp the first time I did it. Then I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and slowly pumped it up and down as I suckled the tip.

He let out a sigh. I glanced up--his eyes were half closed in pleasure, but his attention was still on me.

I wondered if, like in my story, he had ever been deep-throated. Probably, I figured, but that didn't make me want to please him like that any less. I could take it, better than most, and I wanted to show him. I bobbed up and down slowly. I resisted the urge to gag as his bulbous head hit the back of my throat. I forced myself to relax, allowing his cock to enter me further until he had slid part way into my throat and my face was pushed into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

"Oh, baby, yes," he moaned. I raised my head slightly and pushed him deep in again. "Oh fuck."

I got excited when I felt his hands on the back of my head. He wound his fingers gently through my hair, urging me to continue swallowing his shaft. He liked it.

"Yes, sweetie, yes," he encouraged breathlessly. He groaned as I massaged his rod with my tongue as well as I could while keeping him partially in my throat. I wanted to show him all my tricks. "So good." He petted my hair as I sucked.

The actions I had been doing had caused saliva to gather around the base of his dick. It was getting his underwear a little wet too. I started to bob up and down more vigorously and it made a sloppy, squelchy sound.

I felt him hold my head slightly firmer, slowing me down. Eventually, I let his cock go from my mouth with a little pop and looked up at him as I wiped my face on the back of my hand. "I didn't rush too much this time, did I, Professor?" I asked.

"Not at all, sweetie," he said, touching my cheek. "You were perfect. Come here so I can kiss you more."

I pushed myself up, crawling into his lap once more. Only this time his manhood was standing exposed between us. He pulled me into a deep, slow kiss that made my body tingle from head to toe. The kind of kiss I'd been craving since his lips had first touched mine.

I felt one of his hands move between my legs, cupping my mound. I wondered if he could feel the heat radiating from it. Pleasuring him had lit a fire of desire between my legs. Even through my jeans, I suspected he would be able to feel it.

"This seems like the time Megan would get fucked, don't you think?" he asked, rubbing against my crotch.

"Yes," I said, moaning a little as I humped against his hand. "She needs it now. I think he does too."

"Yes, he is desperate to bury his cock in his pretty and sensual lover. Hungry to taste her delicious, young pussy. Patient, but longing to fill her with his seed already," his voice was low and sounded rough with genuine desire.

"What if," I bit my lip, genuinely unsure what his reaction to my question would be, "she wasn't on birth control?"

He cocked his head and looked at me, clearly trying to deduce if I was talking about the story only or also myself.

"Would he use a condom?" I asked.

He paused for a long moment before saying, "Would she like him to?"

"No," I breathed. "She wants him to fill her."

"He'd give it to her then. She has him so wrapped around her finger, he'd probably give her anything she wanted," he said, gazing into my eyes. "Even if she wanted him to give her..." the brief pause he took felt longer than it really was before he finished with, "a load of sperm in her unprotected pussy."

I could feel my own cream leaking into my panties by the time he had finished speaking. I didn't want to wait for him any longer.

"Please, I--" I stopped myself when I realized I slipped up on our thinly veiled coded dialogue and quickly corrected it to, "she needs him now."

The falter in my language had not gone unnoticed by him. I could see it had brought a small smile to his lips, though he didn't call me out on it.

"Let's go upstairs, Alice," he said, easing me out of his lap. We both got up. "Come with me, sweetie." He took me by the hand and lead me out of the living room, down the hall, and up the stairs.

The upstairs was taken up completely by his bedroom and bathroom from the looks of it when I saw it. His hands lingered on my body, not letting me get far from him as we walked to his bed together. We stood face to face next to it.

"What is it?" I asked as he gazed motionlessly at me.

"Appreciating you, beauty." He tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Your stunning blue eyes. Lovely, long hair. I'll admit, I'd forgotten about your cute freckles." He ran his thumb lightly across my cheek.

"You might not have noticed before. I used to wear more makeup to cover them."

"I'm glad you don't anymore." His lips met mine softly. "You've grown even more beautiful than when I first saw you."

He pulled my shirt off over my head. My own hands freed the buttons on his shirt. I'd never been with a man his age before. Not outside my fantasies. But I liked it now. I was finding him more and more attractive by the moment.

"I was so nervous," I admitted, "that you wouldn't remember me."

He caressed my face. Kissed my forehead. Then my lips.

"I'll remember you always, sweet young thing." He had said it just like I had written. I knew it was because I had written it that way, and he made every word real when he spoke it. "I recognized your voice first, and the way you knocked. And of course, when I saw you."

"You remember how I knock?" I thought I had a generic knock but I supposed I'd never thought of it much until then.

"The voice-knock combination. I didn't know that until then." His cheeks looked a little flushed. "When I saw you... I saw a beautiful young woman standing where one of my favorite students had stood many times before, so long ago."

I made a soft hm sound and smiled. "I think you're really handsome too."

"Thank you, sweetie."

He nuzzled my neck, his hands on my waist as he walked me backwards towards his bed, pushing me gently onto it. I pulled him down with me and crawled on top of him, straddling him. I could feel his hardness pressed into my tummy, and I wanted him inside me badly. I ground against him slightly, bringing our privates closer together.

He gripped my waist, and said, "I need to taste you now, baby." His hands moved down to my bum, urging me upwards. I straddled his shoulders, my pussy hovering just above his face. He let out a low moan as he parted my lips with his thumbs, eyes fixed on my aroused womanhood. He examined the area between my legs, taking in the groomed triangle of pubic hair and then down to my pink petals and probably even seeing my slit, shining with the proof of my arousal.

His thumb came to rest on my clit, and I squirmed with excitement. I could feel his warm breath on my cunt and it made me shudder with anticipation. He ran his tongue along my slit. Tasting my nectar for the first time. I moaned in delight as he pushed his tongue inside me while also rubbing my clit with his thumb.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw his manhood laying hard on his stomach. I reached back with one hand, able to fondle it teasingly while he ate my pussy.

His fingers moved down to my slit, replacing where his tongue had been. He gently fingered the entrance of my hole. They slid around easily--I was slick with juices already. I couldn't help grinding against him a little as he tongued my sensitive and engorged nub. He massaged my clit before sucking between his lips. He worked one finger inside my tight, hot channel.

I reached down to stroke his thick hair--brown flecked with grey and sandy blond--enjoying the feeling of it between my fingers. I wound my fingers through it, moaning in delight as he pleasured me.

I had started making involuntary little thrusting movements into his fingers. My breathing had grown ragged. "Fuck," I gasped, his head in my hands as I ensured his lips stayed locked on my bud. My movements stopped as my muscles clenched before spasms of ecstasy wracked my body.

My knees were shaking by the time I had come down from my peak. I leaned forward, bracing myself on my hands as I scooted down so I could lie down on top of him. His arms encircled me. I could taste myself on his tongue as he kissed me, but I didn't mind.

He rolled me over so I was on my back and he was on top. His head pushed gently at my hot sex as he mounted me. My body undulated under his as we teased each other with imminent penetration. I gyrated my hips more purposefully, forcing his cock head into my slit and probing my opening until his crown was fully captured.

I gasped when he pulled out slightly and then drove the full length of his shaft firmly into my wet core. He lowered his body slightly--I enjoyed the feeling of his bare skin on mine--as our foreheads came to rest against each other.

"Such a lovely, tight pussy," he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "So perfect." He kissed me, starting to thrust in and out.

I whimpered softly, winding my arms around him and latching my legs behind him. My hips rocked against his as I greedily sought to keep every inch of him buried inside me. One of his hands was knotted in my hair. His kisses echoed the desire felt behind every thrust. I felt one of his hands sliding the length of my thigh before squeezing my bum.

"You fuck like you write," he said, his voice low, "unforgettably beautiful."

"Thank you, Professor." It was one of the most memorable compliments I'd ever received.

Our lips locked hungrily together, and he delivered purposeful, deep thrusts until I felt his cock twitching inside me and he was moaning against my lips. I rocked my hips slowly, milking every last drop of semen from him as he came.

He rolled off me once he had ridden out his orgasm to the end. Both of us were breathing hard and sticky with sweat and other fluids. I turned my head to look at him. He wore a relaxed, satisfied smile, moving his arm and motioning me closer. I moved into the free space by him, turning on my side to face him and draping one of my legs over his. He pulled me into a long, slow, passionate kiss that left my tummy tingling.

After laying together quietly for a few minutes, he turned his head to look at me. "Do you have plans this evening?"

"I don't," I replied.

"Stay for dinner? I'll cook."

"Sure," I said, smiling. I hesitated, hoping he wouldn't take offense, then said, "I have to ask... were you thinking about this at all when you suggested we meet?"

"Having sex with you? No. Unsurprisingly, the thought did cross my mind because of your story. But that wasn't my goal in meeting you today."