Professor Head Ch. 03 - Pamela

I shut off my phone screen, and plunged us into darkness. Her moans, groans, purrs, and gasps grew louder and far more frequent, and I guessed she felt more free without the light. I figured I'd see what I could get away with. I ran my hands up her back and firmly massaged her, and then slowly ran my right hand up to her left breast. I still had her right nipple and areola squirting into my mouth, but it was taking some suck work on my part. Though the swelling had subsided, she made no move to stop my mouth from its work.

I cupped her left breast, tweaked the nipple so a drop of milk came out, and then I ran my hand up her chest to her lips.

She knew it was coming, and I found her mouth opened in anticipation. She sucked my finger with abandon, and I ran my other hand down her back, inside her slacks, and under her panties. I grasped her ass cheek and squeezed -- not so hard it would bruise, but I wanted a reaction, yea or nay, and she ignored it. I pulled my finger from her mouth and returned it to back massage duty.

She kept grinding her crotch on top of mine, and she knew my dick had hardened. She kept using it to stimulate herself. Reaching between her cheeks and running a finger as far down her crack as I could manage, I firmly crossed her anus and even tickled a few of the hairs from her bush. Her grinding didn't even change pace; she certainly didn't stop. I kept massaging her ass cheeks, alternating between them, and occasionally rubbing my finger on her asshole.

After several minutes of groaning purring, and gasping, she transferred me back to her left breast. This pulled my left arm back around to her front, so I tucked my right hand into the back of her underwear and continued her ass massage. This time, though, I shifted her around slightly to allow my hand far more comprehensive ass coverage...

Having spent a solid ten minutes on her right breast, the renewed attention to her left tit apparently felt almost as good as the first time I drew milk from her, and her groans grew louder, still. When I felt her lips on my forehead, and she didn't remove them, I figured a better opportunity was unlikely to manifest, and I reached well below her ass and inserted a finger into her vagina.

And I finally got a reaction.

She murmured, "Oh God..." into my forehead as she slowed her grind on my dick, but she never entirely stopped. She pulled her lips from my forehead and rested her cheek over the spot she kissed, and murmured again, "Oh God, Richard..."

Leaving my mouth breathing and tickling her nipple and areola, I said, "why don't you take off those slacks?"

She replied, "I..." boy did she want to, "I can't..."

"No?"

"No, I can't do that to my husband and kids no matter how much..." She loved leaving sentences half stated.

"Ah." I sucked hard on her nipple as I retracted my finger, now soaked, from her remarkably wet pussy, and I slid it delicately into her asshole.

"How about this?" She sucked her breath in at the intrusion, but she offered no resistance. This particular young lady ass had been plundered before.

"Oh God..." I gently slid my finger around while giving her breast another powerful suckle. "I don't know..."

"Hrm, well, I don't want us to do anything that you would regret..."

I opened wide and wrapped my lips around her tit and sucked hard. A renewed milk spray coated my mouth, and she gasped, "uuunnhh..." appreciatively.

"God, Richard, please," she whispered, "I'm so grateful to feel so much better that I'd do literally anything you wanted right now, but...please don't." She kissed my forehead again as I fluttered my tongue against her nipple. "I would regret it tomorrow...maybe even tonight." I slowly and gently removed my finger, and she locked up tight behind it. Yeah, she knows what she's doing there.

"Well," I released her nipple and leaned her away from me, "then tomorrow I'll regret NOT doing it."

She leaned down and softly kissed me. "Thank you."

"Nah, it's not like I've gotten a raw deal here." I reached around her back and unhooked her bra. "As long as we're in here, there's no reason for you to be so damned uncomfortable." With her breasts no longer powerfully strangled by the excess milk, we were able to remove her bra with relative ease. I still thought it looked a little too small.

She chuckled. "And you want to see them again, right?"

"Absolutely."

Pamela turned her phone's flashlight on, and it illuminated the elevator remarkably well. She smiled sheepishly, but she didn't cover herself. She stood and offered me her hand. I smiled and let her help me to my feet, though I could probably have done it safer without her, but she offered, and it seemed rude to decline. Besides, my legs had been ground to pudding by her swirling ass.

She led me to my chair and then sat back in hers as she draped her blouse over my overlarge briefcase. We stared at each other for a few minutes until her phone timed out and cut off. She chuckled again.

"Did you get a good enough look?"

"Oh, definitely not."

"Of course not."

"Certain academic endeavors require in-depth study."

"Well, if we're in here as long as you think we'll be, then you'll get another chance in a couple hours."

"They fill again that quickly?"

"Yeah. Miranda doesn't eat enough. I spend most of my days in serious pain. Right now is the best I've felt in...well, I dunno how many weeks."

"Have you talked to a doctor or lactation specialist about it?"

"Yeah, they keep saying production will adjust to how much she eats, but it hasn't, and I don't know what to do."

"I wish I could offer more help, but somehow I expect your husband might object."

"Um, yeah. He would definitely object to...uh, additional direct intervention." She paused as she pondered, "but there's another way you could help..."

"What's that?"

"You could let me keep a breast pump in your office? And I've seen your microfridge -- maybe I could have part of a shelf?" I raised my eyebrows. "Yeah, I know it's a major imposition, but, if I could pump and store some in your office, I might be able to have a few hours of relief while I'm at school."

"Okay. That should work fine."

She gasped in surprise.

"What? It's not that much of an imposition, and, if it offers you a little relief, then that's a good enough reason for me to agree. I get here about 8am every day this semester. I often leave campus after our class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but I usually get back by 3pm, and for Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'm here pretty much all day. Just let me know when you want to come by, and I'll be sure you can get in and have a little privacy."

As I spoke, Pamela's surprise only grew.

"Okay, seriously, what?"

She pulled her expression out of utter shock and thought a few moments before saying, "I...just thought you might not want to take on any of this."

"Well..." I didn't think that totaled up her concerns, but we had hours to chat, and I figured she'd get to it in her own time. "...you just let an old man suck on your tits. That makes me feel...at least a little connected to you."

She snorted.

"Appreciative, then?"

"Richard, I understand why you might feel appreciative, but, you did me a huge favor, and..." another deep breath, "you...noticed how much I enjoyed it, right?"

"Oh yes."

"Well, you might not know that I pretty much orgasmed starting about a minute after you started sucking, and I didn't stop. My nipples have always been super sensitive, and..." she paused for another deep breath, "I know you hate this word, but you're REALLY fucking good at that."

I snickered, but my brain started fogging from the enclosure. I smiled at her as I let my eyes drop back down to her chest. As I began to count her freckles, I restarted the breathing exercises.

After a few moments, she settled on a conversational ending, "Well, I want you to know how much I appreciate you, too."

I lifted my eyes from her sixty-second freckle and replied, "I do know," before returning to my breathing. Her tits were lovely, but, without a task to focus on, my breathing needed attention to stay steady.

Pamela watched me intently for several minutes before finally asking, "are you alright?"

"Mostly. I'm enjoying the view," she huffed softly through her nose, "but a task at hand...or at mouth...helps."

She glanced down. I'd kept my legs spread since I planted myself in the chair again. "Blue balls?"

"Definitely Smurfy."

...and she fucking howled with laughter.

Pamela took several minutes to regain her composure, and her tits bounced deliciously while she did, but, yeah, after sucking her tits, the grind on my lap, and getting my finger inside her, my balls felt almost as massive and swollen as her tits were when the elevator lurched to a halt.

"I'm...I'm sorry..." Pamela stopped too early, and she had enormous trouble keeping her composure, "I am. I don't mean to laugh at your pain, but Smurfy hit me perfectly."

I nodded as I continued my slow breathing exercises, and she glanced down at my crotch again while lost in contemplation. After another minute she slipped out of her chair and knelt in front of me.

"C'mere." She reached around behind my waist with both arms and gently tried tugging me forward.

I slid toward her until my legs spread open around her torso. She looked up at me with remarkable tenderness as she ran her hands around front to my belly. I took in a breath to say something, but she quickly placed a finger over my lips.

"Just breathe."

I slowly expelled the breath I held as we looked into each others' eyes. She glanced at my shirt, and her hands began unlocking my buttons with rock-steady dexterity. No trembling this time. She worked with intentional confidence, and her breasts bounced and jostled pleasantly as she opened my shirt.

"Breathe."

She placed both hands on my belly and slowly caressed me in an expanding circular motion, entirely opening my shirt, and then without breaking eye contact, she softly kissed my hairy tummy. She sat up and began working on my belt and trousers, and I completely forgot about my breathing.

Pamela tugged my trousers off my butt with a helpful lift on my part, and she pulled off my boxers for good measure. She folded the slacks gently and placed them over my briefcase with her blouse. The boxers, she folded in half and tucked under her knees.

My dick stood up like a pillar. Okay, it was a short pillar but the hardest damned pillar in the building.

She kissed my legs, my belly -- dragging those magnificent tits across my cock -- and she kissed around my pubis through my pubic hair...she worshipped all around my dick, but she didn't touch my dick itself with her lips. Finally she looked up and into my eyes.

"Breathe, Richard." Her voice stayed low and soft, and it wasn't an order; it was service.

I let out the breath I'd been holding, and she slowly ran her hands around my flanks to my back. She gently pulled, and I slid forward a little. She pulled again, and I slid as far forward as I could manage without toppling out of the chair and smacking her in the face with my ball sack.

And the worship continued.

I couldn't see her, but I felt her lips in firmly planted between my asshole and my scrotum. Her nose nuzzled into my sack, and she even hummed a gentle moan as she found my prostrate with her lips and tongue.

Okay...so....yeah.....I completely forgave her for asking me not to fuck her.

And the experience managed to improve...

She pulled her purse over and cleaned my undercarriage with wet wipes, first. Of course she had some on hand, she's a mother. But even as she cleaned me, she acted like my devoted servant. She wore a genuine smile because she could tell how much I enjoyed her attention. She kissed me sensuously everywhere she cleaned. She even kissed the underside of my cock, I think, on accident. She caressed me with her hands, my belly, my legs, my knees, the inside of my thighs, and she kept coming back to the base of my cock, massaging into my pubis multiple times.

All of this she did while my nut sack spent several minutes in her mouth. Pamela licked, sucked, nuzzled, and made love to my balls with her mouth, her tongue, her lips, and she double-teamed me herself, taking a testicle into her mouth while nuzzling the other with her tongue.

I relaxed and enjoyed; being trapped in an elevator suddenly had radically different associations for me.

She trailed down to my anus and repeated the process. She flicked her tongue over it, kissed, licked, and finally pushed her tongue inside. Now, I'd had my ass eaten before. Some of my playmates have reluctantly given me this seriously intimate attention because they wanted something from me. But this experience was a totally different thing. A woman doing this because she wanted me to feel good, not to get something, not because she felt like she had to, but because she honestly wanted to...this I had not experienced before. I almost felt disappointed when she refocused on my nut sack.

She refocused on my testicles while running her hands up and down my legs, over my chest and stomach, around my waist, and then she lifted one away. I didn't notice to begin with -- her mouth hug on my nuts distracted me completely -- but then I felt her pressing a wet finger at my anus, and it slid inside with ease; she must have used some sort of lotion or cream she had with her. Her tongue wrapped around my testicle as she gently circled her finger inside my ass. As she searched, I groaned softly in appreciation. She chuckled in satisfaction on my ball sack, and she finally found what she sought in my rectum.

My fat ass almost jumped to the ceiling of that elevator.

At first, Pamela simply pressed on it, but a few moments of slight massaging pressure had me squirming in the camp chair. Between my excitement from sucking her tits, her near worshipful caresses, and then the nut sack suckling, she had me far more than primed. She knew how to manipulate the prostate, too, and I lasted only a few moments before waves of pleasure crashed over me.

She never even touched my dick, but, as I groaned, damn near a stream of come flowed out of my rod. She had my legs almost straight up and the stream flowed onto my belly. She realized how fast I popped, and she quickly released my balls to grab my dick with her mouth. She kept rubbing my prostate and caressing my body, but she over-stimulated me almost immediately. She kept her mouth on my dick, even applying some light suction, but she withdrew her hands from my belly and ass allowing me to slowly come down from the high. I took several moments to catch my breath while she kept milking my dick with her mouth.

"Holy shit, Pam..."

Keeping my dick in her mouth, she hummed and grunted through her response, "Mmmmmm-Hmm..."

As I regained my senses, she finally pulled off of my dick, looked back into my eyes, and smiled. She deposited a wet wipe in a zip lock bag with a few other used ones, so she'd apparently already cleaned her hands. She came prepared.

I stared at her with exhausted appreciation. She helped me sit upright again and kept running her hands around my body. It was like a gentle massage, and she seemed content to keep herself busy with it. She even leaned over occasionally to kiss my belly, then a knee, and my softening prick.

She didn't just make me feel good. She helped keep me sane in there.

**********

We were in that elevator for about an hour by then, but we spent a total of five hours in there. I sucked her tits dry for the second time about three hours in, and then, after we escaped the elevator, we went back to my office, and I drained them enough to take the edge off so she could get home in relative comfort. She produced milk at an astonishing rate.

If I could fall in love again, this woman was definitely a candidate...we became fast and dear friends, though she never crossed certain physical lines that somehow made sense to her. I found out later on that she and her husband had an agreement born out of him being gone for months at a time (and apparently a little more sexually active than he was supposed to be), but the problems between them never metastasized to a divorce. She simply felt justified in having me suck her tits from time to time.

Aw shucksy darn.

She kept a breast pump in my office, and my breakfast came from her tits for the next ten months. I only stopped feeding off her after she told me she'd weaned Miranda and needed to stop lactating. Alas, after the lactation stopped, she couldn't come from having her tits sucked they way she could while I fed off her, but her nipples remained super sensitive. Still, we both missed her titty orgasms.

There's much more to our friendship, but the elevator stands on its own.

I'm Professor Richard Blythe Head. I'm in my mid 40s, and while I'd love to tell you I'm in perfect physical condition with a cock you would all kill to have, I'm not and I don't. I figure part of the charm of my experiences is that I'm real. I'm slightly under six feet tall and somewhere north of 300 pounds. I teach language arts at a large college in a small town, and I don't actually live for the shenanigans I describe here, but, when an opportunity falls in my lap, I grab it by the ass and hold on for the ride.

If you made it this far, then I thank you for the time and attention you spent here. You managed to read more of my writing than around half of my students!