Naked at College 02 Pt. 02

Ms. Billingsley smiled back at him. "I guess you should pull the blinds, Bobby. I'm not too sure that it would be best to let them see the English professor be fucked from behind by one of the undergraduates. Do you?" Perhaps she should not have been so modest. After all, she had been perfectly willing to let them watch Bobby suckle her breasts. But, she also knew that one could at times go a bit too far when participating in The Program, and she didn't want to take any chances.

She didn't have to tell Bobby a second time. He pulled the blinds, much to the obvious disappointment of the students below.

He turned back to Ms. Billinsgley, who was waiting patiently for him, still in her submissive pose, waiting to be taken. He stepped up behind her to pull her panties all the way down.

"No, no, Bobby, leave them there. I like it when they're still on me."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, not really understanding why, but not minding the fact that he would still be able to see their sexiness framing her fanny as he slid his cock up into her exposed cunt. He got into position behind her, using his right hand to try to properly position himself.

Ms. Billingsley reached back, underneath her thighs, to also take hold of his cock to help guide him. She grasped his shaft and pulled him toward her opening, her hot, flushed, dripping cavity. She carefully placed the head into her entrance, pressing back a bit as he pushed forward to get it firmly lodged. "Alright now," she said, in breathless anticipation, "shove it in, shove it in hard, Bobby, real hard."

He was surprised at that. He would have assumed that she would have wanted him to proceed slowly, being careful not to hurt her. Instead, she wanted to be impaled like a doe mounted by a buck. Well, no student can disobey a professor. He cocked his hip and plunged down hard into her slit.

"Hmmmmmpph," she moaned as she felt herself impaled by his thick, stout, weapon, her body crushed into her desk by the force of his charge. It was indeed big; very, very big. But it was precisely its thickness that felt so wonderful. "Bobby, that's so good, so very, very good. Again, shove it again, and harder this time."

He thrust forward hard a second time, forcing himself even deeper inside, perhaps all the way inside. Cramming his cock deep down inside her, impaling her, almost brutally. It would have been brutal if not for the fact that she was already so thoroughly lubricated. He was giving it to her precisely the way she wanted it.

"Now fuck me, Bobby, fuck me hard, real hard." She gasped, "Fuck me like a dog in heat."

He was indeed a good boy and did as he was told, plunging hard in and out of her with quick, fast, hard, forceful thrusts.

Ms. Billingsley kept squealing, "Harder!" "Fuck me!" "Fuck me Bobby!" "Fuck me hard!" Her legs were constrained by her panties, binding her thighs together, but her butt was thrashing and thrusting. She had never felt so full, so stuffed, so fucked before, and she was so fully loving it.

"Your cock feels, unh," she grunted as he shoved hard within her tight, hot, sloppy wet cunt. "So good inside me, Bobby. So big, so hard. I love your cock, Bobby, please, give me more, fuck me so hard."

He would never imagine an esteemed, well respected professor speaking in such a filthy way. But, then again, he would never imagine that he would be fucking one over her desk. She was, though, after all, a dramatist. It was in her nature to be expressive, even perhaps a bit melodramatic. But, still, her cunt felt so good, so tight, so wet, gripping every inch of his cock as he buried it deep inside.

"You're so good, Bobby, so very, very good. I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum. Oh gosh, I am! I am! I am!" And she started to twitch and jerk as her orgasm swept over her body, the muscles of her cunt rippling with spasms.

And with that Robert felt the sign that he was about to cum as well, about to explode his juice for the second time today, and this time up the twitching, shivering cunt of the lovely Ms. Billingsley. "I'm going to cum, Ms. Billingsley, I'm gonna cum too!"

Ms. Billingsley quickly pushed him back, shoving him away from, releasing his cock from, her twitching cunt with a loud slurp. Robert was shocked, but Ms. Billingsley didn't want him to cum inside her. She wanted to see this dick release its load, and she quickly turned around, grabbed hold of his cock, and dropped to her knees, aiming the monster cock at her breasts.

It felt like she was grabbing hold of a python, one that spit like a cobra, gushing its load onto her full jiggling, heaving breasts, her body still trembling from her own climax. She grabbed hard onto his cock with both hands and held it firmly in place as it gushed splats and wads of cum onto her boobs, quickly drenching them in his youthful cum, the gism soon gathering enough strength, enough volume, to spill down into her cleavage, dripping down off her pointed nipples.

Robert braced himself on her shoulders as he released his gobs of gism onto the professor's breasts. It was such an amazing, lovely sight, accompanied by the complementary physical pleasure of his rapturous orgasm sweeping through his body in thunderous waves, each accompanied by a further explosion onto Ms. Billingsley's heaving, dripping chest.

When he finished she fell back against the desk in exhaustion and relief, both of them feeling fully spent. Bobby gazed down at the pretty professor, her boobs drenched with his cum, rising and falling with her heavy breathing, his cock slowly losing its stiffness, the remaining bits of cum dripping off the tip of his dick, falling onto her pink nylons.

"Well, Bobby," she asked, "Do you feel a little better about it now?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, trying to regain his breath.

"I'm so glad," she said. She did indeed feel quite happy and proud, as she was seeing before her eyes another successful outcome of The Program, and one for which she had made a personal contribution.

Suzannah. As Hank was dropping off Suzannah he had indicated that he would return at 15 minutes to the second hour with Robert to retrieve her, at which time they would go to their final class, Developmental Psychology.

Suzannah had knocked politely on Professor Hunting's door.

Professor Hunting could be heard inside. "Yes, is that you, Suzannah?"

"Yes sir," she replied. "I'm here for our luncheon."

"Yes, well, come on in then."

Suzannah smiled broadly as she opened his door.

Professor Hunting was, not surprisingly, bent over his desk, closely studying an equation.

"Professor Hunting?" Suzannah inquired.

"Hmphh, hmmph," he replied, clearing his throat. He did not look up. "There is some soup, milk, bread, meats, and what-not for you on the coffee table. I do not myself partake in lunch. I really have too much to do."

"Yes sir," she demurely replied. She was not surprised or offended by his less than welcoming behavior. She had seen him this way before. She in fact admired his devotion, his dedication, to his work, his science. "That will be fine, sir. I'm not really hungry myself." That wasn't really true. She was in fact famished. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Professer Hunting really didn't want to look up from his equations. First, he was indeed deeply involved with his work and, second, he knew that standing before him would be little Suzannah Frost, all entirely naked. He had very mixed feelings about this, to say the least. He had not volunteered to host Suzannah for lunch. He had been asked personally to do so by President Rayburn, and you don't turn down a request by the President of the college, no matter the nature of the request.

President Rayburn had to admit feeling a bit uncomfortable about pairing a young naked female with a male professor, in the privacy of his office. He knew though that nothing untoward would happen. He could trust his faculty to be considerate, ethical, and proper with the students. But, it might have the appearance of being inappropriate, and certainly rumors could develop.

Professer Hunting though was an excellent choice precisely because of his character, or at least his personality. Professer Hunting was by all measure a workaholic, and a loner at that. He was unmarried and with no prospects of an eventual wife. One might consider that to place him at risk for an indiscretion with a young college female but the absence of a wife also avoided the possible tension and suspicions that could be engendered within the spouse of the respective male professor. More to the point, though, it was difficult to think of Professor Hunting even having the desire. He was hardly a people person, let alone a ladies man. Professor Hunting was a mathematician, and that was about it. He ate, drank, and slept mathematics.

In addition, Suzannah and Professor Hunting had already worked together. They would then feel less uncomfortable with one another, President Rayburn judged, and there would be less of a chance of any understandable sexual tension leading to an impulsive indiscretion. Professor Hunting knew Suzannah personally, and would not abuse his position and their relationship.

President Rayburn was correct, to a point. Professer Hunting had no interest in taking advantage of the situation. On the contrary, Suzannah's nudity made him very, very uncomfortable. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on the complex formulae scrawled across his note pad, but he knew that at some point he would have to look up. He was not really comfortable around other persons, let alone naked ones.

However, he did at least know what constituted rude behavior; well, sometimes he did. In any case, barely acknowledging the presence of a student in his office would probably qualify as rudeness.

But, still, this would be Suzannah, and a naked Suzannah at that.

Professer Hunting was not a ladies man, that was true. He did not date. But, it wasn't out of any lack of interest. He just felt so uncomfortable, awkward, around other persons, particularly women, and certainly attractive woman, and, well, goodness, he only rarely ever had the experience of being around a woman who was naked, let alone one as sweet, as delectable, as attractive as Suzannah. He finally looked up.

Suzannah was standing across the office from him, smiling broadly, smiling proudly, in her stark nakedness.

And, as he had remembered, she was so cute. He allowed himself only one quick glance, but it was still plenty enough.

She had the cutest little titties. He knew they would be. He had admired her prettiness, her appeal, when she had worked for him. He might be severely introverted, but that didn't make him any less of a man, or at least his shyness did not cripple his testicles. He knew what was appealing, what attractiveness looked like. Even when she was clothed his eyes would at times travel to the little mounds within her blouse, and the perky smooth roundness of her bottom. He would even allow himself the pleasure of fully gazing upon her bottom when she would bend over to get something out of a lower drawer of his filing cabinet. He particularly liked that vantage point. She had the most charming derriere. The most precious bottom.

He never revealed, admitted, his interests to her. Why would we? He knew that would be terribly inappropriate. If he had done so she would likely have filed a complaint of sexual harassment, and one that would be well deserved. There was certainly no way that she would be interested in him. He was a nerdy senior professor. She was a bit nerdy herself, but she was far prettier than he was handsome, and certainly many years his junior.

"Professer Hunting?" Suzannah softly spoke. She could see that he was even more absorbed in his work than normal. Perhaps he was on the verge of making a major discovery? Wouldn't it be exciting if the revelation occurred within her presence, during her experiment in The Program? This particular chapter of her thesis would be so terribly successful. "Would you like me to transcribe it to the board?"

When working on his quadratics Professer Hunting would often switch back and forth between the blackboard and a note pad, and one of Suzannah's responsibilities as a work study student had been to transcribe, from one to the other. It might seem to be a trivial task, but she in fact had to be quite careful not to make any mistakes, and errors were easy to commit as the formulae were often so very complex, infused with many obscure, unintelligible symbols.

"Yes, yes," Professer Hunting replied. This was indeed a good suggestion, as it would allow him an excuse to keep his attention focused on his work. "Here, here," he said, handing Suzannah a sheet of equations, not making eye contact even with her hand as he handed them to her.

Suzannah could see that he was keeping his eyes averted and she wondered if perhaps her nudity might actually be problematic for him. She would certainly hope not. She would hate to think that her presence might somehow interfere with his investigation. It would trouble her not only personally but it might also make for a rather disappointing chapter for her report. As a scientist, she did not want to favor or bias one outcome over another, but she would have to admit that she would much prefer that her report conclude that The Program facilitated rather than hindered a scientific discovery. She closely considered these concerns and problems as she carefully transcribed his written notes onto the blackboard.

In the meantime, Professer Hunting did now finally allow himself to look at her. With his latest work now in the hands of Suzannah he was obliged to wait until she caught up with him and, besides, he wanted to continue to speculate upon the equations as she transcribed them onto the board. Normally he would do so by standing right behind her, reading the page over her shoulder. He would not do so this time, as that would require gazing down at her little titties, wiggling and jiggling with such youthful energy as she transcribed his notes across the blackboard.

He did not though deny himself the opportunity to admire Suzannah's winsome bottom. He could do this safely, he supposed, as her back was to him as she was so absorbed in her transcriptions. And, her bottom was so cute, posturing and wiggling flirtatiously as she moved across the blackboard, at times stretching up high, at other times jiggling with her furious writing. She had such a nice little behind: so round, so pale, so perky, and so delightfully split by such a tender, soft valley, down which would be her young puckered rosebud. His dick swelled within his slacks. Professor Hunting even allowed himself to reach down and softly stroke his hardening cock.

He was feeling a bit guilty, looking upon her naked derriere this way. This was, afer all, the bottom of one of his young students, so much younger than himself. But, she had such a preciously girlish butt.

Suzannah could hear his silence, or at least she noticed that she was hearing nothing else besides the chalk scratching its way along the blackboard. She wondered what he was doing. Perhaps he was now looking at her?

She turned her head quickly, and caught the direction of his eyes on her bottom. Professor Hunting quickly turned away, his face reddening at the embarrassment in being caught staring at her bare butt. He had frankly worried about this before, when he would allow himself to at least briefly admire her curves, her shape, her prettiness, at times even a peek up her dress as she bent over, perhaps getting a quick glance at her soft, white thighs and maybe even a sighting of white panties, that were prettily decorated with little pink flowers. Getting caught now sneaking more than just a peek at her naked butt though was certainly far worse than a quick glance at an exposed thigh. Suzannah, though, didn't mind. She was in fact relieved. Professor Hunting apparently wasn't annoyed with her being there, and maybe in fact kind of liked looking at her bottom. As a member of The Program, she recognized that it was important to help him become more comfortable with her nakedness. It was perhaps bold of her, but a good scientist should not hesitate in such matters, and she openly broached the topic. "Professor Hunting, is it okay with you that I don't have on any clothes?"

Professor Hunting didn't know precisely what to say. He never knew precisely what to say to any girl, and he hardly had any experience answering a question like that. It was, of course, very much okay that she did not have on any clothes, but he was concerned that it was not okay why it was okay. It was okay because it was so provocative, so exciting, so enticing, but yet it felt so terribly inappropriate. "Suzannah," he said, finally speaking to her directly, albeit keeping his head adverted, "don't you feel a little uncomfortable dressed that way, I mean, well, undressed that way?" When in doubt about what to say, turn the question back on the other person.

As she had learned in her readings of The Program, when the other person feels uneasy, it can be helpful to acknowledge comparable feelings in yourself. "Well, yes sir, of course. I mean, well, you've never, of course, seen me naked before. I've worked here, in this office, so many times before, and I hadn't ever really imagined being here naked."

"Well, I certainly hadn't either myself." That was not completely true.

"And, isn't this at least somewhat interesting, Professor Hunting?" She moved up closer to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, pushing her soft little tittie against his arm.

His cock twitched in his trousers at the feel of her little tender breast. He felt he could even feel a perky stiff nipple. "Well, yea, I must say it is. My goodness, young lady."

"Wonderful, Professor Hunting! I'm so pleased. I was so hoping that you would enjoy sharing this experience with me. I mean, I have, well, so much respect for your work. You know, I want to become a scientist myself some day. I really do."

Professor Hunting knew that quite well. Suzannah had been one of his more enthusiastic, dedicated, and skilled assistants. "Well, I certainly do think you have the makings of a very successful scientist, young lady."

Professor Hunting had never been so forthrightly praiseworthy before and Suzannah was ecstatic over the compliment. "Oh, Professor Hunting!" she exclaimed, "Do you really think so?!" She impulsively leaned into him closely, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing now both of her breasts into his body. Simply hearing these words from the professor was enough to make this working lunch with him a success. When she did become a scientist she would always look back on this inspirational affirmation.

"Yes, yes, well, of course" This was one reason that he was not openly praiseworthy. He was uncomfortable with overt expressions of appreciation or affection, and would certainly be so if the student would respond by pressing her body against him, let alone a naked one. At the moment, it was not Suzannah's potential as a scientist that was on his mind or hardening within his slacks.

"I knew you would understand!" He certainly did not. "I think this is just such a wonderful opportunity for me, the chance to be one of the very first participants in The Program, to explore what it would be like to spend a day naked in the world, to study, firsthand, your own feelings and the reactions of others! Don't you agree?"

Perhaps he might. He did at least appreciate her effort to approach this scientifically, something that he had, so far, not done so at all. "Well, I must say, I do admire your spunk."

"Professor Hunting!" Another compliment. This was indeed developing into a tremendously successful experience. She knew full well that if she had not been naked with Professor Hunting, he would never had said such things to her. She was feeling most grateful for being selected to participate in The Program. She pressed forward albeit physically stepping back. "But, sir, won't you please look at me directly. I do think that is the intention of The Program."