Jen's Professor

Jen suddenly looked up from her homework and asked Meg, "Do you think Professor Baird is hot?"

Meg had become used to her roommate's non sequiturs and sudden changes of topic, so she just answered, "Oh yeah, definitely," and then tried to return to the book she was reading.

Jen smiled and persisted, "What do you think is sexy about him?"

Realizing that this was going to be a protracted conversation, Meg put down her book. "Hmm. It's his intelligence, I guess. He's obviously really brilliant at what he does. And his intensity is sexy too. He's so clearly interested in the material and engaged in teaching it. Not all professors are." Meg paused and then added, "Plus he has a nice butt." Then she looked appraisingly at Jen. "Why do you ask? Are you planning on coming on to him or something?"

"No," Jen frowned. "It wouldn't work if I did."

Meg said, "Oh come on. You're so hot!" But inside she realized she'd be a bit disappointed in Baird if he went for Jen. She was a sweet person, and sexy in a superficial way, but not very acute intellectually.

"Yeah I know," Jen breezily replied. "But I heard from my friend Kendra that she came on to Baird last year, and he gave her this speech about 'a teacher's ethical responsibilities' and 'having good personal boundaries,' blah, blah, blah." Jen concluded, "So he's probably gay or something."

"Yeaaaaaaah," Meg said slowly, and turned back to her book, trying hard not to show on her face the condescension she was feeling toward Jen at that moment. But instead of reading, she thought some more about Baird. He WAS so damn smart. And his intensity WAS really arresting. It was like he looked inside your soul when he talked to you. And he was forbidden fruit because he was a teacher. And, most of all, he had personal ethical scruples against student-teacher relationships. "It would take a very special student," Meg reflected, "to seduce a guy like that." A wicked grin spread across her face.

Getting dressed for class the next day, Meg put to use some advice given to her by her older sister (who was her best friend in the world). At a point in high school when she was feeling unattractive, she told her, "Love will come looking for you. You have to wait for it to choose its own time. But if you just want to have a guy think you're hot, that's easy. You know what turns guys on? Everything! Just show a little extra skin, and guys will come to you. I know guys can really be shallow jerks, but women are often much tougher judges of their own looks than guys are of them." So today Meg wore a blouse that was cut low and a skirt that was cut high. Up to that point in the semester, she normally sat with Jen near the middle of the room where Baird's class met. Today, though, Meg sat in the front row.

During the class her focus was completely on the content of what Baird was saying. She had prepared especially carefully for class today, and she was the only one able to answer a couple of the questions Baird posed. She noticed happily his nods of approval. She also noticed that his eyes never wandered below her face. "Focussed little bastard, aren't you?" she thought admiringly.

She continued this pattern for the rest of the semester. She'd been doing great in the course prior to that point, getting nothing lower than an A-. But now that she was working extra hard on the course material, she had a surprising experience. One of her best teachers in high school had told her, "Your problem is that you are too clever. You can get A's without having to work very hard. But if you're not careful, you'll never learn to be deep, as opposed to clever." At the time, she had thought that comment was just mean. But she finally understood what her teacher had been telling her. Trying to impress Baird by working over the readings carefully, and meticulously re-working the rough drafts of her papers, she soon felt as if she had fallen through a trap door into another world of depth of understanding and interpretation. The thoughtful appreciation Baird showed when she spoke up in class, and his glowing comments on her papers, made her feel flushed with pride...along with other things.

With only a few weeks left in the course, she hit another milestone. She was writing some notes and looked up suddenly, and there was Baird, in the middle of a sentence, his eyes clearly focussed on her cleavage. She gave him a "you naughty boy" smile and he quickly looked away, continuing with his lecture. She sought him out later that day in his office hours. After a few minutes of asking about the week's readings, she looked out the door of his office to confirm that no one else was waiting to see him. "Uhm, could I close the door for a second? I have a personal issue I wanted to discuss."

Baird looked nervous as he said, "Of course."

Returning to her seat, she began, "I just wonder -- well, I know that different subcultures in the US have different conventions about what is appropriate or inappropriate dress for particular contexts. And, I think maybe I've been dressing inappropriately for class. I just wanted to apologize to you, because I think I may have made you feel uncomfortable. I want you to know that I'm going to dress more conservatively from now on in."

Meg managed barely to keep a straight face as she said this and watched Baird's expression go from mild fear to relief to sympathy. He said, "Oh, no, no, no! You have nothing to apologize for. Students have a right to dress however they want! I'm the one who should apologize for, you know, staring."

Meg chuckled. "Don't be silly! I'm not naive. It's not like I don't want guys to ever check me out. I mean, it would be one thing if you didn't respect me intellectually, but you obviously do. Right?"

Baird looked at her fondly and said in the most heartfelt way, "Absolutely. You're a great student. In fact, you may be the best student I've ever had."

Meg felt a catch in her throat. "He means it," she realized. "He really means it." She stared back at him in gratitude and affection.

They looked into each other's eyes for just a moment, before they both blushed and looked away. Meg cleared her throat and said, "Look, I do want to keep dressing the way I normally would, but I can only do that if I know I'm not making you uncomfortable. So you have to agree not to feel bad or assume I feel degraded if you do what 99% of the heterosexual men in the world would do in the same situation, okay?"

Baird smiled and nodded. "Okay, deal. I'm glad we had this little talk."

"Me too!" Meg said, and walked out of his office, wiggling her ass just a little bit extra as she did. On the way down the hall Meg thought: " 'Dressing the way I normally would' -- yeah, this is the way I would normally dress: if I were a hooker!" And she laughed to herself.

So the semester wound down, with Meg continuing to shine in class, Baird continuing to admire her intellect, and Baird's occasional discreet glance at Meg's figure, rewarded by Meg's smile. This led Meg to another discovery: the erotic intensity of sexual denial. Knowing that he could look, and she could show, but that they couldn't touch, made her desire for him incredibly intense. "God, I understand the intense sexual undertones in all those Victorian novels now!" Meg reflected. Worse yet, she found that her desire for other men (and women) had largely evaporated. Sure, she masturbated. She was doing that almost obsessively as of late. But this plot of hers had led to her becoming almost fixated on Baird.

When finals period arrived, Meg checked with the registrar's office to find out the exact date when professors had to hand in their final grades. She made an appointment to see Baird the day after that. She wore the outfit that, judging from the frequency of his glances, he enjoyed the most. This time, though, she wasn't wearing anything underneath it, except for a garter belt and stockings. She came into his office and, without asking, closed the door behind her. As she approached his desk, he smiled broadly and said, "How's my prize student? I want you to know that I handed in grades yesterday, and you got the only A+ in the class. In fact, it's the only A+ I've given out in the last three years!"

"Really?" Meg said, finding herself sincerely excited. "That's so cool!"

Baird put out his hand to shake hers. She took it, then pulled herself in for a hug. She squeezed him. It was interesting. He was clearly not hugging her like an uncle, but he was just as clearly holding himself back. Her head was against his chest, and she breathed in his cologne. The experience was so sexy it made her dizzy. After what seemed like just a moment, he gently pushed her away. His face looked flushed and he nervously said, "Have a seat," gesturing toward the chair on the opposite side of his desk. Meg went around, grabbed the chair, and nonchalantly dragged it around the desk so that it was right across from Baird's. Meg crossed her legs and smiled at him. She had her strategy for this meeting all worked out.

"So what are your plans for summer break?" Baird asked, obviously trying to steer the conversation to something safe.

"I'm not sure," Meg answered slowly. "Last summer I was able to get a discount standby ticket to France. I spent a lot of that summer on this nude beach. My friend Jen and I would just oil each other up and bask in the sun."

She noticed Baird breathing just slightly faster, but he kept his composure. She admired his self-control, but was simultaneously irritated by it. "Why don't you act like a fucking MAN!" she thought in frustration. "How about you?" Meg asked him. "Will you be going on vacation with your girlfriend?"

"Oh, I don't have a girlfriend right now," Baird said. He immediately looked like he recognized that he had made a tactical error by admitting this.

Meg smiled as her trap closed. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. This gave Baird quite a good view of her breasts. "That's so surprising. Why doesn't an accomplished, attractive man like you have a girlfriend?"

Baird was no longer smiling. He seemed to have become even more intense in his focus, like a boxer going into the ring. "I don't know. I guess I'm just too busy to have a girlfriend. Well, have a nice summer break, and if you need a letter of recommendation for a job or anything, you know I'll be happy to write you a strong one." Baird gestured gently toward the door.

But Meg didn't move, except for letting her shoe dangle off the toes on her crossed leg. She stared into his eyes and said evenly, "I wouldn't mind being your girlfriend."

Baird paused while his id and superego wrestled for control. Finally, he said, "I don't date students. It's unethical."

"How is it unethical?" Meg calmly retorted. "I'm not in your class anymore; you already turned in the grades."

"You might be in one of my classes in the future."

Meg slowly shook her head. "I don't major in your department. I'm a senior next year; I have to focus on courses in my major area."

"The college strongly discourages it, I --"

"Is that what you taught us in your class? That we should obey every rule, whether it makes sense or is patronizing or irrelevant? If that is what you were teaching, I guess I didn't deserve that A+, cause I sure didn't learn THAT lesson."

Baird visibly swallowed. There was no way out intellectually. So he went for the only way out he could see. "Leave my office. Now."

"No."

Baird looked surprised. He obviously wasn't expecting this reply.

"You have to leave my office!"

Meg narrowed her eyes. "Or else WHAT?"

Baird's expression went from shocked to angry. He realized that he could hardly grab her and make her leave. That might make things worse. What if she screamed? And Meg's chair was in between the wall and Baird's desk. There was no way for him to get out without pushing his hips right past her. So he said quietly but venomously, "Who the fuck do you think you are, coming into my office and treating me like this?"

Meg felt herself getting angry too. She hissed back at him, "Treating you like WHAT? A man?! Look, if I'm not your type that's one thing, but I can tell by the way you look at me that I fucking well AM your type. So cut the shit and stop paying games!"

By this point, Baird was visibly shaking with rage (and other passions): "How about showing me some damn respect as a human being and not trying to make me do something I don't want to do?"

"Show YOU respect?! Oh, like you weren't in on what was going on. Are you telling me it never occurred to you that I was horny for you? Are you telling me you never enjoyed that I was horny for you?"

"I -- well maybe I did, but -- what do I have to do to get you to please leave?"

"Okay. I want to ask you three questions. All I want are honest answers. If you can honestly say No to any one, I'll leave and not bother you again. Deal?"

Baird didn't like the prospect of agreeing when he didn't know what the questions were going to be, but he didn't see any alternatives either.

"Okay, first. Do you want to fuck me? I'm not asking whether you're going to. I'm just asking whether you want to."

Baird nodded slowly, "I suppose."

Meg smiled. "I want to fuck you too. Second question: Have you ever fantasized about me sexually? And look me in the eye when you answer! I'll know if you're lying."

Baird looked at her intently for a moment: "Yes."

Meg's heart was pounding and her breath was coming quickly at the thought of what sort of things Baird must have fantasized about her. Her voice trembled as she said, "I fantasize about you too. A lot." Almost out of breath, Meg said, "Okay. Last question. Remember that you have to answer honestly. Have you ever touched yourself while you fantasized about me?"

Baird's face became flushed. He looked down at the floor and didn't answer.

Trembling, Meg put her right hand on her knee and slowly slid it up her thigh, along her skirt, over her blouse, until her palm was cupping her breast. In a voice drunk with lust, she whispered, "What do you think MY answer is to that question?"Meg caressed her breast with the palm of her hand for a moment, then used her fingertips to tweak her nipple through her blouse.

Baird slowly growled at her, "You bitch."

"And you're a pussy for not doing anything about it," Meg groaned, her hips twitching in response to her own fingers on her nipple. She gasped slightly as Baird stood up and moved so that he was over the chair she was in. The expression on his face was angry and lustful. She put her hands to her sides, offering herself to him. His right hand smoothly slipped between her legs, finding her shaved pussy, its lips wet and open. She moaned as he expertly slipped his fingers between her lips and teasingly explored her clit and pussy hole.

In a low threatening tone like a rabid dog, Baird asked her, "Is this what you want, you little slut? I'm not one of those little boys you're used to. You think you can handle being used and fucked hard by a man?"

"Please," Meg whimpered. "Oh god, please." Her taunting tone of a few moments before had turned into submission in the face of the passion she had waited so long for.

Baird slipped two, then three, then four fingers into her cunt, finger-fucking her more and more roughly. She strained not to moan too loudly, lest they be heard by someone else in the building, but she also reached down and hiked up her skirt so that she could spread her legs invitingly for him. Baird smirked as he said, "You get wetter the harder I do it. You like it nice and hard, don't you, you little whore?"

"Yes," Meg gasped. She felt humiliated and exposed, not just because she was sitting in her professor's office, naked from the waist down with her legs spread, but also because Baird was obviously figuring out things about her that she had not exactly planned on revealing the first time they fucked.

"Say it!" Baird demanded. "Tell me you're a whore who likes to be fucked hard!"

Meg's hips were bucking in response to Baird's skilled fingers as she whispered, "I'm a dirty little whore who likes to be fucked hard and rough!" She groaned, "You see right through me, don't you? Oh god, it's so sexy!"

Meg felt suddenly empty as Baird pulled his fingers out. He shoved them into her mouth. "Lick them clean! Lick your pussy juice off my fingers!" Meg eagerly complied. She gave him a coy look as she started to suck his fingers like a cock, her head bobbing up and down hungrily. He was obviously enjoying the sensation, but Meg was startled to feel him grab her hair with his free hand and jerk her head back. She panted, frightened and excited by the thought of what he might have in store for her next. His right hand slipped under her blouse and began to caress her tits and nipples. At first, he gently stroked and caressed them in appreciation. He obviously loved getting to finally touch what he had only glanced at and fantasized about before. He pulled her shirt up roughly, still pinning her head back, and admiringly kissed and licked them. Soon his touch became rough. He deftly tugged on, pinched, nibbled and flicked her nipples, making Meg twitch with passion every time.

Baird moved his head up so that his face was in front of hers. Still holding her hair so tight that it hurt, he kissed her. At first, their tongues just shoved against each other passionately, finally drinking in the pleasure they had waited so long for. Then their motions became more delicate. The tips of their tongues flicked against each other, like ballet dancers in a pas de deux. Finally, their tongues freely explored each other's mouths, trying to possess each other completely. Meg's hands finally found the courage to explore Baird's body. He felt strong and big and masculine against her soft small hands. She inserted her hand into his shirt and felt his hairy chest. Then she followed the curve of his chest down to his hips, and felt the hardness inside his pants. She knew that hardness was there for her, and her hips bucked with desire. When they broke the kiss, they looked into each other's eyes and both knew what all this meant. Meg remembered her sister's advice: "Love will come looking for you. You have to wait for it to choose its own time."

Baird easily picked Meg up -- which seemed very sexy and romantic to her -- and carried her over to the small couch on the other side of his office. Meg had often eyed that couch when she visited his office in the past. It had figured in many of her fantasies. Sometimes she just imagined him taking a quick nap on it while up late at night grading papers. The image of him innocently sleeping on it could be as sexy to her as anything else. But now she was going to act out one of her other fantasies involving that couch: fucking him on it.

He sat down on the edge of the couch and gently put her on the floor in front of him. Pulling his pants down around his ankles and exposing his rigid cock and tight balls, he coldly commanded, "Suck it." Meg was anxious to prove to him that she was good at this. Kneeling, she wrapped her mouth around the cap of his cock, took the shaft between the fingers on one hand, and cupped the balls with her other hand. Slowly stroking the skin on his shaft back and forth, she mouthed the cap with her tongue and lips. She was gentle -- so gentle that he could barely feel it at first. But that was what was so enticing about it. He moaned in appreciation. She gradually increased the firmness of her sucking and licking, and started to slide more and more of his cock down her throat. She looked up at him coyly when his cock was buried to the hilt in her mouth. He whispered, "Cock sucking slut," but she could see on his face his appreciation for her technique, and this made her proud and happy. Baird reached underneath her and flicked her nipples while she sucked him. Pussy juice was now running down between her thighs, all the way to her knees. She felt deliciously used to be on the floor, sucking his cock, while he felt her up however he pleased. Baird then caressed her back, and tentatively rubbed his finger along the crack of her ass. Meg wiggled her ass to indicate her receptiveness, so Baird licked his finger, reached back, and started to massage her tight asshole. He began to alternate inserting his finger into her hole and then taking it out to give her a hard SWAT on her ass. Soon both of them were groaning in appreciation.