The Professor's Charm: Ch. 01

Chapter 1

Woman Of My Dreams

They say that college is the time of your life, that it's a journey in which you're exposed to honorable opportunities and new learning experiences. I definitely have to agree. For me, there was nothing like being a student at Dalos University. I had been introduced to a lot of challenges and overcame them. My biggest adventures started my third semester when I decided to take two advanced math classes, an English and biology class. That was the time I learned some things I would always take to heart, the time I was thrown off the loop in a way I had never imagined, the time I had met the love of my life.

This story actually starts toward the end of the Spring term, weeks after midterm exams. At this point, I might not have been a student for too long, but I had shown to have an outstanding GPA and academic record. I, Dave Hurley, was the student who always done my assignments promptly if not ahead of time. For the most part, taking classes was nothing to stress about, I had the grades in the bag. That was, until I had taken a class in advanced writing principles. During the term, I saw I was being challenged, but I actually enjoyed it...I rarely ever had difficulty learning or showing proficiency in class, least of all an English course. I had the instructor to thank for that.

Yes, the one who taught English 2900: Writing Principles was Professor Claire Stalworth: a svelte lady in her 30s who was classy and very intelligent. She had short dark brown hair that just reached past her neck, and bright teal eyes behind thick-framed glasses. The professor always wore a long-sleeved shirt, burgundy clogs, and a long skirt of some kind. She was straightforward with her curriculum, and never deviated from the lesson. She would always clarify anything she needed to when her students couldn't understand the teachings. However, her assignments were time-consuming and tedious...and it didn't help me much that writing-if anything-was my weakest subject besides physical education. Professor Stalworth's class was the biggest challenge in my academic life, and that's partially why I became infatuated with her.

I was usually a sharp and attentive student, but whenever I was in her class, I'd get lost in a trance just looking at her. Every now and then, I'd get called out of nowhere because I was caught staring right at her when I should have been paying attention. I wanted to impress Professor Stalworth more than anything, but her writing course made me feel so inadequate, so novice. It wasn't just because I was distracted by her pretty face, I just struggled with informative and persuasive writing techniques. That's not very ideal when you have to write single-spaced five-paged term papers...and it showed in my grades. I wanted to meet to ask the professor for help, but I was afraid to show any sign of weakness or affection for her.

One Wednesday after lecture, I was stopped and asked to talk to her. Professor Stalworth said that we needed to discuss my progress, but her office appointments were filled for at least two weeks. She insisted that it was important and offered for us to meet up at her house during the weekend. My first thought after hearing this was "Whoa...she must really want me there..." My face turned red as I stammered before letting out a "yes, okay!" She giggled and arranged for a meeting for Saturday. Though, I couldn't help but think that the professor had something else to talk about. She kept noticing me being distracted in class, maybe she needed to address my 'wandering eyes'. I had conflicting feelings about this appointment, but I knew more than anything that it was the best chance for me to turn my grade around.

That night, as I lay in my bed, all I could think about was having to go to Professor Stalworth's house in two days. Phone in hand, I stared at a profile picture of her I had saved from the college website. Even through a touch screen, her smile put me into a euphoric mood. All I could think about was how pretty she looked when I talked to her today...how pretty she was the whole semester. I loved how she styled her dark brown hair, how her teal eyes and profound jawline made thick-framed glasses look sexy, how cute she always looked in those long skirts. To me, she was like an angel descended to Earth...no, more like a goddess in the form of a mortal woman. I envisioned what it would be like when I visited her.

"Please, come on in." she would say as she opened her front door with an expressionless, yet welcoming face. I pictured the professor with her hair up in a bun while wearing a light blue robe that showed most of her breastplate, but still covered the important parts. As I walked in, I noticed a big bowl of stew on a dinner table, sat down, and started eating. Across from me, the professor sat before telling me that was her freshly homemade chicken gumbo. But then, out of the blue, I pictured the professor walking up to my side and grabbing my chin while I sampled her chicken gumbo.

Her face was stern and unnerving. "You haven't been taking my class seriously, have you Dave...?" I would blush in embarrassment as I'd be scared to admit that her curriculum was too challenging. "You need to be disciplined accordingly..." I would hear before she grabbed my shirt and ripped it right from the chest, exposing my nipples and entire upper torso! I gasped and started breathing heavily, inside and outside my dream. Professor Stalworth take my right nipple in one hand and pinch until she heard me scream in blissful pain. Then, she would tell me to silence myself. As punishment for making noise, the pinching turned into much harder squeezing, making me struggle to keep my squealing in.

As I imagined this erotic torture, I dropped my boxers just past my knees and reached for my cock. I started stroking my shaft as I pictured her biting my left nipple whilst still squeezing my right, her teeth pressing on the sensitive nub from both sides and grinding on it, forcing my screams out as I arch my back. Outside my imagination, my dick turned hard as a rock while my hand shifted up and down its four-inch base in a gentle grip. I could feel every throb down there as I started picturing the professor turning my right nipple like one would a key in a doorknob, and it was painful enough to give me repeated spasms. She started sucking and chewing my left nipple to make the pain between them even. Despite the hurting, the warmth of her against my chest turned me on.

I could feel the buildup in my loins as I further played the scenario in my head. Professor Stalworth halted my nipple torture and tilted her head up, closing in on me. "You're a lecherous one, aren't you?" I'd hear as I felt a finger or two circling around the crotch of my pants, which had an erect penis twitching underneath. Before I could respond, she would lean in close to me, meet my lips with hers, trap my bottom lip in between her teeth, and pull back. My whole lip started to feel as if it were about to be ripped right from my face, and I strangely became much more aroused. She let my lip go before leaning back and loosening her robe just enough to reveal her small, bouncy breasts. My heart was pounding once I pictured her exposed nipples, then she leaned in and whispered, "You've had your fun..." The professor would take her wandering hand, open up my fly, and squeeze on my sensitive scrotum, bringing the painful sensation down there too. Unfortunately, my punishment didn't last much longer. Before I could imagine anything else,...climax!

The tortuous arousal came to an end as my hand and entire pelvic area was covered in my hot, thick semen. My breathing slowed, my cock fell limp, and I laid still from exhaustion. The warmth quickly turned into a piercing chill as the air brushed upon the sticky parts of my body. I put my phone on standby with my other hand while laying on the bed, not even attempting to clean up the mess. I felt at ease. Not only did thinking about the professor in such a way give me pleasure, but it took me away from my problems and made it easier for me to rest. While the cool air caressed me, however, my mind came back to reality. My labored breathing ended with a disappointing sigh. "That would never happen, especially to a guy like me..." I thought as I drifted to sleep. Not to mention, I was still failing English 2900.