Mandy's Continuing Education

This story follows the 'Watching You Watching Me' series of stories and it is recommended that you read them first for background and references. Please note, all characters are over the age of 18, are healthy and disease free, and live in that blissful, alternate reality in which personal birth control choices are freely and readily available.

The first weeks away from home at university were hard -- and not in a fun, sexual way but in a rough and distressing emotional way. I missed EVERYONE! I was able to face time chat and even, occasionally, play with Mr. R, even more rarely with Ali or Matt. My parents hadn't become tech savy enough for virtual visits yet although I knew that, by the time Matt was away at college too, they'd have to be. It wasn't nearly enough though. I was used to regular sex and I wasn't getting any.

I masturbated, as quietly as possible and as frequently as I was able, but I wasn't sure enough of my roommate's sexual orientation and preferences to risk rubbing one out in front of her...yet anyway. Getting thrown out of the dorms this early in my first year would have been really hard for my folks to swallow, despite their awareness of what a slut I can be. I had an even worse time trying to keep my milk flowing. I needed to be milked or suckled regularly and finding time between classes was a challenge some days. I had to find a way though or risk the very real possibility of outing myself with a major breast milk leak when they engorged and overflowed.

Finally, I was alone, without Mr. R's immediate protection and encouragement and finding ways to publicly display myself scared me a little. I was far from home and didn't want to get picked up by the local police on some sort of public lewdness charge. The danger of that, DID make it riskier and more exciting, true -- but there was no one to keep watch for me, keeping me relatively safe from police or worse, or to rescue me in a pinch.

I did manage to get out to the mall once wearing a very short, full skirt with no underwear. The first place I stopped was outside a sporting goods store and I managed to flash several men as they left, but there were too many little kids coming and going with their families. I tried sitting outside a lingerie store and had a nice time until a mall cop started making his rounds. I thought about sitting outside one of the bars but the last thing I really wanted was someone who'd had too many margaritas over lunch deciding to try and take me home. I headed to the park near the center of town and found a quiet, shady spot where I could relax and play with myself without much danger of interruption. There wasn't much danger of observation either unfortunately but at least I was outside and public.

Once classes started though I had an entirely new problem, or at least difficulty. A professor that made me drool every time I sat in class -- and that's drooling at both ends! I walked into my History 101 class the first day and my mouth fell open. Honestly, I think the instructor looked like Leif Ericson the Viking must have. I don't know how old Mr. Sanderson really is -- his skin seems kind of weathered, like he's spent too long in the sun, tanned, with some freckles and lines especially around his eyes and mouth. He has shaggy hair, down to his collar and it's that bright coppery red color you can't get from a bottle. His full beard is graying a little but his eyes are the brightest, ice blue I've ever seen. He stands about 6'2" or 6'3" and seems really muscular under the academic tweeds and bow tie.

I don't know what, specifically, it is about him -- his gravelly voice, or the way he gestures with his long fingered hands...I just don't know. I only know that I want him. I want his face buried between my thighs. I want to know what his beard feels like against the smooth skin of my pussy. I want his long fingers embedded deep inside my cunt and ass and...well, you get the idea.

I spent some face time chatting with Mr. R about how I felt and he gave me some ideas and suggestions, and told me to definitely keep him posted on my progress. I'd been spending my class time sitting down in one of the first two rows of the stadium seating. I'd wear either low cut or sheer or deeply unbuttoned shirts in hopes of drawing attention. Sir and I discussed it and he suggested going braless but I reminded him of my breasts tendency to leak milk when I get excited and aroused and I was a little concerned about the resultant wet spots. He made some alternate suggestions and as a result the next class found me sitting near the top row of students.

While I am still wearing a silky, low cut top, I'm also wearing a short, flared skirt with no panties. As I sit at my desk listening and taking notes my legs are relaxed and spread loosely in front of me and my skirt rides up on my thighs. I slouch back in my seat, easing my hips forward to the edge of the chair. It isn't the most comfortable position on the hard fiberglass so I fidget a bit. A week goes by, and then a second without any result other than Mr. Sanderson wearing his glasses more often while lecturing. By week three I'm starting to feel particularly restless, not to mention horny and deprived. During class I take a look around to make certain no one is close by or looking my way and I sneak one hand into my lap and under the hem of my skirt. Midway through a particularly juicy fantasy involving both Sir and the professor while my Daddy watches and fucks Ali I hear a voice boom out.

"Ms. Carmichael, see me after class!"

Heads turn to look my way and I hastily straighten and return my errant hand to my desktop, blushing. The rest of the class I try to pay attention to the lesson, taking occasional notes and doodling abstract penises in the margins of my notebook. At the end of class I wait as everyone files out, many glancing surreptitiously my way, before heading to the front. I stand patiently and quietly to one side while Mr. Sanderson stacks his books and papers.

"My last class ends at 7:30 this evening. Be at my office at 7:45. You know where to find it?"

I nod. He never even looks at me, he just picks up his briefcase and stalks from the room. In a panic I want to run to my room and reach out to Mr. R to ask for advice. I feel emotionally battered. I don't know what to expect this evening or how to get through the intervening hours. But I have another class to attend, and even if I could get to my room, I know that my roommate DOESN'T have a class right now and will likely be studying or napping. I had walked in on her and a boy once, but since then she usually goes to their room to fuck. At least I haven't caught her again. At any rate, the room is likely to be occupied and I only have ten more minutes to get across campus. I run, and if anyone gets a glimpse of my bare ass in the process they are welcome to it -- I don't have time to enjoy it.

Time seems to drag until 7:45 but finally I am standing outside his office door. I've taken pains to shower and change. I'm wearing a more sedate looking button front dress that hangs to mid calf. It only LOOKS sedate though really. The material is a soft, figure hugging jersey that clings to every curve. I've milked myself recently too, so I can have the chance to go braless as well as panty free. No lines mar the soft outline of the moss green material. I've unbuttoned the top few buttons -- enough to show deep cleavage between the full globes of my tits. My hard nipples are trying to drill holes through the front of the dress. And I haven't buttoned the last eighteen inches or so of the dress either. When I walk plenty of leg flashes and when I sit and cross my legs I'm naked from mid thigh to my heels. I take a deep breath and knock softly at the door.

"Come!"

As I enter he adds, "Lock it behind you!"

I do as told and stand quietly, hands clasped behind my back, trying not to chew my bottom lip with nerves. He hadn't looked up when I entered but seems to be grading papers. At any rate he is making notes in red ink on something hand written. When he finishes he sets the completed paper to one side, finally looking up at me. Taking off half framed reading glasses he rises and walks around me slowly nodding thoughtfully.

"Take off your clothes!"

My hands are shaking with a combination of nerves and anticipation as I unbutton the front of my dress, slipping it off my shoulders and folding it carefully over a chair. His eyes narrow seeing that the dress is all I'm wearing.

"Well, you've gotten my attention. Come here."

I move closer to stand between his knees. I can smell hints of sandalwood and musk. He doesn't shave so it must be his soap or shampoo. There is also a faintly aromatic tang of smoke and a pipe lies in an empty ashtray on a corner of his desk. Gooseflesh pebbles my skin and my nipples pucker hard, but thankfully are empty enough not to drip...yet at least. I can feel the moisture on my upper thighs though that lets me know I am dripping with arousal, there anyway. He lets me stand for several long minutes, just looking at me. My nerves are starting to get the better of me and I am clenching and unclenching my fingers, staring straight ahead at a print on the wall (Whistler I think), trying very hard not to check out his crotch.

Finally he stands and his hands reach to cup and heft my breasts, lifting them as if to judge their weight. His long fingers encircle each of the globes like he is holding a melon or wine goblet.

"Now that you've gotten my attention, what exactly is it that you want, little girl?"

His gravelly voice sends shivers up and down my spine and my nipples harden to rocks against his palms.

"You," I whisper, hanging my head.

He laughs curtly, "Little girl, you have NO idea what you're asking for."

My head comes up to look him in the eye, "I might."

"You can't begin to know."

His long fingers begin to clamp down and squeeze my breasts and I wince in pain. His eyes narrow at the feeling of moisture against his palms when my nipples start oozing. Looking more closely and pinching both nipples firmly he arches an eyebrow as the milk begins to drip more freely.

"Free my cock," he orders and I hurry to obey.

My hands tremble with excitement as I fumble with his belt clasp and zipper finally dropping his trousers around his ankles, to be followed quickly by his boxers. He sits back down pulling me forward again between muscular thighs. His cock is beautiful -- long and thick with a fat purplish head. I lick my lips and drop to my knees reaching for him hungrily. He has a thick mat of coppery pubic hair. In fact, he seems to have a fairly thick covering of body hair everywhere I can see. One hand circles the base of his shaft, the other cups his heavy balls, rolling them softly between thumb and fingers. I take a deep breath, inhaling his personal musk and know I will recognize him forever, just from the smell of his body.

My mouth opens wide to engulf the mushroom tip, my tongue circling over, around and up under the rim. I love this. I'd loved it from the very first boy whose cock had exploded in my mouth to this rigid and deeply veined erection I currently worship. I love the velvet feel of the head against my tongue and the roof of my mouth, and the silky feel of frenulum and the skin of the base against my lips. I love the feel and smell and tastes, and I love the feeling of power and control that it gives me to excite men and make them cum. There isn't much about sex that I don't love but this, I think, might be my favorite thing and I happily lick and bob, drooling and sucking the stiff dick in front of me. He buries his hands in my hair, cradling my skull and using his hands to guide my movements, forcing me to take him deep into my mouth and throat and holding my face against his belly as I try to swallow and instead gag around his girth. I was fortunate to have had some experience with Sir and my brother before this. I'm not afraid and I know I won't die but still, my hands tighten against him as I try to gain some room to breathe.

He pulls himself free, pushing me back against the desk and sweeping papers to one side. Hoisting me up he sets me on the wood surface, laying me back. My legs dangle freely and he bends over me. I reach for him but he grabs my hands, pinning my wrists together above my head. His free hand curls around my breast again, squeezing until I wince and the milk begins to ooze once more. His eyes glint as he looks at the beads of white against the deep pink of my nipple and the corner of his mouth quirks. He buries his face against me, his hot mouth circling my teat while his tongue licks and circles me briefly. When he starts to suck I mew with the pleasurable burn of my milk letting down and filling his mouth.

He sucks for several long moments before switching to my other breast, his free hand moves again to cradle my vulva, his middle finger sliding into the slick folds to penetrate me. I arch against him. I want him so much and I have fantasized about this so hard that I'm going to cum, just from his touch. Biting my lip, trying to keep silent, I groan with pleasure as my cunt contracts around his finger, nectar flowing to pool below me on the desk top. He chuckles.

"Eager aren't you!" It wasn't a question.

Pulling my hips closer to the edge of the desk he slides his cock up and down between my folds a time or two to lubricate himself before thrusting inside me. Gripping my shoulders he holds me tight against him as he begins slowly pumping in and out.

"Oooohhh fuuuucckk!" I moan happily, wrapping my legs around his waist and rocking my hips to meet his thrusts.

"That's it little girl," he growls. "Fuck me back!"

"Yes, Sir. Oh gawd....oh yessss....oh....oh YES!"

I'm making more noise now as I climax again and again, spasming as his cock begins to slam against my cunt. I can hear the wet slap of his body meeting mine and the liquid noise of him sliding inside me. My ass is going to be bruised later from the hard pounding it's taking against the edge of the desk, but for now I don't care. He rocks against me faster and I feel his cock swelling inside me. His hands clamp on my shoulders so hard that I cry out as he pushes deep inside me. The heat of his cum fills me to overflowing and drips down the crack of my ass. He backs out of me, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt before pulling me upright and handing me my dress. Our mingled cum drips down the insides of my legs.

"Behave yourself in class Ms. Carmichael."

He arches an eyebrow, looking at me sternly as I mutely pull my dress on and begin buttoning it again.

"Otherwise bad girls get punished instead of rewarded like good little girls."

My nipples tighten.

"I'll see you again next week for further counseling," he adds opening the door and showing me out.