Kate's Panties for the Teacher

"Why?"

"Because it's not appropriate."

Her eyes convey disappointment, but my fingers are still inside of her and I tend to her g-spot after taking a few moments to find it. The look of disappointment in her eyes vanishes, replaced by euphoria and her eyes roll back. It's like looking at a girl possessed. Her eyelids flutter and I keep fingering her cunt and then I suck on her nipples.

She cums in my hand and I listen to the music of her orgasm.

Before going to class I stop by the professor's office. I see her. She's down the hall speaking with another teacher about something. I don't want to wait for her, but come to think of it, I'm glad she's preoccupied because it gives me a moment of privacy.

I enter Professor Behzadi's office and I'm strictly business. The door is open and students are going to-and-from classes at the peak hour of campus. No one's looking inside this office. Why would they? It's just me in here.

When I stand beside the professor's desk I reach beneath my skirt and pull my white panties off. I place my panties flat on her desk, right in the center of her workspace, and press them smooth with the palms of my hands. A perfect gift for my favorite teacher. I smile from looking at it. How I wish I could see her reaction to this.

Afterward I go to the class which Professor Behzadi teaches. I'm early. My friends are there and we talk about small topics, but all I think about are my white cotton panties on the teacher's desk. I wonder if she's seen them yet.

When she arrives, I can tell by the look on her face that she saw my gift. She prefers coming to class with a straight face, like a show of force, but today her aura is lighter. She also doesn't glance in my direction. It would make her blush if she did. My panties are on her mind. I wonder where she put them. Probably in her desk drawer where it's safe. But I wouldn't be shocked if they're in her pocket. Did she smell them? She should have. They're freshly worn.

The lecture hall is almost full. Close to 75 people today. I'm sitting in the 5th row alongside my friends and I have the aisle seat. It's my favorite spot because I can give the professor a view. I only do this with her. None of my friends know. I never discuss sex with them, only with Professor Behzadi.

Halfway through the class I'm unable to control myself. I spread my legs. To other students in the lecture hall, it's a benign act of getting comfortable. But not to Professor Behzadi, who can see what's between my legs. This is like my bat signal to get her attention. Instead of calling on her to fight crime, my signal is about horniness. As always, she looks in my direction. She's joked before that it's a sixth sense of hers.

Her eyes take a glance. Only a glance. What a professional. It makes me spread my legs wider so she can get a better look, but nothing too obscene, nothing too obvious. I'm undercover with my moves. No one suspects a thing.

When the class ends, I close my legs and fix my skirt. I become just another student. I blend in with the crowd and try to leave with everyone else.

"Ms. Cline, you forgot something in my office."

The professor calls me as I'm leaving and I say 'bye' to my friends. She's holding a petite paper bag from a restaurant, twirling it lightly from the handle. The professor is frugal and she saves different shopping bags to reuse.

"Thanks."

I take the bag and I'm certain she's rejected my gift. I'm confused that she's giving my panties back. Is this the end? Are we done? Professor Behzadi reads my downbeat expression and gestures inside the bag.

"Have a look."

I peek inside the bag and see panties. Neatly folded, as if displayed on a department store shelf. Only these aren't my white cotton panties that I left in her office. These panties are red, made from silk. I reach in the bag and touch it. The material is expensive, something I would never pay for. These are the professor's panties!

"Beautiful," I say.

"They're yours."

We're playing a stealth game because the lecture hall is still packed with students, but that's almost over. The place is getting emptier by the second as students from the back rows reach the door. Students rarely talk to the professor after class because she's mean and gives icy vibes. But I hang around.

When the lecture hall is finally clear, there's a curious look on the professor's face, wondering what I have planned. But I never have a plan. Not when it comes to something like this. I'm organized in all areas of my life, except for my sexuality.

"Can I finally see it?"

"My cunt?" she asks.

"Yes, your cunt."

"Why do you want to see it? Why is it so important to you?"

"Because I discovered my own cunt thanks to our private lessons. And I've been dreaming about what your cunt must look like."

"I'm old. A girl like you should be dreaming about girls your own age."

"Girls my age aren't intelligent and respectable professors."

My comment hits the target and Professor Behzadi tenses so bad. Now she knows the true depths of my fantasies. My desire for older, smarter women. Someone that embodies a goddess in mind and character.

"I gave you my panties as an exchange," she says. "That's part of my cultural upbringing. You left your panties on my desk, so I have to give you my panties in return. I've never done this before. I may seem cold and indifferent towards you, but that's because I've never touched another woman, much less a student of mine. I'm very religious."

My heart melts into a million pieces but that tenderness is replaced with something more deviant.

"I have an idea. Give me your phone."

"What's this about?"

"Trust me."

With reasonable reluctance, Professor Behzadi gets her phone and unlocks the screen. She hands it to me, giving a skeptical expression, and I smile at her. I flip through her contacts and my fingers are lightening fast.

"What did you just do?" she asks.

My fingers keep typing and I send the text message.

"I made an appointment with the Dean."

"For?"

"It was regarding our situation. I have a plan to solve this for good."

Her eyes turn wide. "Kate, what did you just do? We're on thin ice with the Dean and I don't want to lose my job or reputation."

"You'll have to trust me. My impression of the Dean is that she's more complex than anyone thinks."

"What do you mean?"

"Trust me. You'll see."

Professor Behzadi takes a leap of faith and follows my lead. We pack our things and head to her office, with a fragile tension between us that's never existed before. I wonder if she's furious with me for contacting the Dean, but it's hard to say for sure. We're both pantyless walking through the halls and courtyard towards her office.

We get inside the office and I close the door. The door is unlocked. I put my things on the table, along with the brown bag with her panties inside, and my teacher does the same with her stuff.

"Sit behind your desk," I say.

"Are you in charge of our relationship now?"

Professor Behzadi's tone and stature are intimidating, but she's being playful about it. I'm glad that she's loosened up, slowly walking to her desk as if she's accepting her fate.

"Only until we get things straightened out with the Dean."

She sits behind her desk. "How long have you had this secret plan?"

"Literally a few seconds before I asked for your phone. Now give me your stockings. Time is short. Don't ask any questions."

Her eyes narrow because this is the first time anyone has ever talked to her this way. Then her eyes lower. She's turned-on by my take-charge attitude. She removes her pumps and pulls her stockings off.

I walk behind her desk. It's my first time seeing her bare feet and they look enticing, along with her calves. I get on my knees, which makes her uncomfortable.

"Don't move."

I use the stockings to tie her wrists to the arms of the chair. Sure, she can use her strength to break free, but she goes along with this. She trusts me. And I know she's fucking drenched.

"Where did you put my panties?" I ask.

"In the drawer. Top right."

I open the drawer to find my panties, then I turn it inside-out and press it to the professor's lips, using my index finger to push my panties into her mouth. She could scream at me, but again she plays along. Then I go to the small bag and get Professor Behzadi's panties, her eyes stare daggers at me. I pull the panties over her head, effectively blindfolding her.

Time is of the essence and I get on my knees, underneath the table, in between her legs. When I try lifting her skirt, her legs clench. It's a reflex more than a denial. I use what muscles I have to pry her legs open. She doesn't fight anymore, giving me access to her brown thighs and I see a patch of dark pubic hairs.

I pull her skirt up further and I see her pussy. It's everything I thought it would be, luscious lips, dark, trimmed pubic hairs, with pinkness in the middle that's wet for me. I can smell her. She smells like heaven.

When I kiss her hairy pubic mound her body jerks but she controls herself and remains still. I keep kissing. Her pubic hairs tickle me. My lips kiss her warm thighs a few times and then my tongue strokes her labia. Then I circle around her big clit, not touching it yet because it feels too personal. I take great care when dealing with the professor's most intimate area. Well, her heart is the most intimate area. I'd say her pussy is second so I have to be cautious.

There's a light series of knocks on the door, followed by footsteps when the door opens and closes. The bound and blindfolded Professor Behzadi jerks and tenses when someone enters this private office. I'm hidden beneath the desk. It's all part of my plan. And I have faith in my plan.

Our guest is a woman because of the particular noise her heels make when walking on the carpet floor. The woman walks slowly, entering this private domain. The guest chair is pulled and the woman sits across from the professor.

It's the Dean. It has to be.

While I remain hidden beneath the desk, Professor Behzadi is in such a vulnerable position and I wonder what's going through her mind now that the Dean is here observing this perverted action. I look upward to see the professor's panty-stuffed mouth quivering, wondering if she's enraged or aroused.

I bury my face in the teacher's crotch and kiss her labia. Her body responds. My tongue strokes and it makes her hips tremble. I lick circles around her clit and the professor moans into the panties I stuffed in her mouth. I'm certain she's hiding her body's reaction because the Dean is sitting across the desk, watching her. But of course, a woman can never truly hide the pleasure she's feeling. Not when it's this intense. Our bodies are built to experience these things.

Professor Behzadi's long legs make the perfect frame for resting my arms, and I suck her pussy hard. She gasps through the panties in her mouth. There's no controlling her reaction. Neither of us have done anything like this before, yet it feels so natural. The exhilarating rush of feeling the professor's orgasm build makes my heart pound. I suck her clit and labia and push my tongue deeper inside. Her fluids are flowing into my mouth and she tastes sweet. I keep working her clit, because that seems to make her tremble the most.

Her whole body is shaking. She's cumming. Nature's perfect prize. Her taste is divine and she mumbles something, which I'll have to ask her about later because I'm so curious to know. I like the thought of her saying a prayer to herself, which is the ultimate taboo.

My mouth is full of cum and I swallow it down. Sometimes on local news reports they'd talk about 'atmospheric rivers' and that's what comes to mind with what Professor Behzadi is doing to me. But this is my fault. It's a problem I want to have. I gag and choke on the delicious flavor and I love what it represents.

I pull my mouth away. A trail of cum and saliva mixture hangs from my lips. The professor breathes heavy, sitting back and wondering what her fate's going to be. Is the Dean finally going to say something? To terminate the professor's tenure at this university and scold me for bringing shame upon my respectable family?

None of that happens. Instead, the Dean gets up and walks to the door, leaving without saying a word. Her heels make clicking sounds on the floor. She leaves faster than she came in. There's confidence in the Dean's steps as she leaves, and in my mind, she's going to the bathroom to make herself cum.

I rest my head on the professor's thigh, then kiss it. We enjoy a moment of silence together to appreciate our first time. I stand and remove my panties from her mouth. She's still blindfolded and I kiss her forehead. She breathes deep. A sigh of relief.

"I'm assuming we're alone now," she says.

"We are."

"Why did you do this?"

"You already know."

I'm assuming the professor knows that if the Dean wanted to give us shit, it would have happened the second she stepped foot in the office. Instead the Dean sat down and watched, then left, binding the three of us together with an unholy secret.

And with our secret safe and the Dean on our side, I kiss the professor on the lips and she kisses me back, swapping her cum with our mouths. My hand goes to her pussy, feeling the aftermath of a flood between her legs, which will no doubt leave a permanent stain on her cushioned seat.

The End

always remember ~~ you are important

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