The Seduction of Professor Joe Smith

With both hands now free, he played with my tits as they dangled in their enormous glory above him. Holding them in his hands, he tweaked my nipples and they grew into hard, rubbery nubs. He kissed my breasts all over, sucking the nipples, rubbing them with his tongue. Again, I felt incredible pleasure building within me, linking my breasts to my cunt, melding my insides into one furnace. I had tried the top before with a few of my old boyfriends, but it had never been pleasurable. They wanted fast, I wanted slow, they all came too quickly, leaving me unfulfilled. With Joe it was different. He let me set the pace. He followed my moves, thrusting back when I thrusted, waiting when I waited, moving only his head in-and-out at the opening of my cunt when I wanted to play. All the while he kept sucking on my tits, telling me how beautiful I was, how great he felt to be inside me, how sexy my body looked and felt.

I was a total woman now, confident, in a state of sexual frenzy, with a man I both admired and lusted after entirely under my spell. I wanted this to last forever—but the passion kept building inside me. I tried to slow down, to stretch out the pleasure, but my body kept pushing me on. Joe slipped into a trance, his eyes glued to my face and breasts and his words of lust transformed into mere guttural sounds. His cock spurred me on, rubbing against my clit, driving me faster and higher. His back started to arch, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside me with each stroke. We both succumbed to the animal lust within us. With a long, drawn-out groan of which I was only scarcely aware, I came for the fourth time that afternoon. Joe's groans united with mine, and he exploded again, filling me with cum.

A long time later, who knows how long, we returned to the land of the living. I don't know if we fell asleep, or were merely too drained to move. I was warm, exhausted, and deeply satisfied as never before. For the first time, I had experienced truly great sex. The long wait and tease were worth it, even if it might have been avoided by more forward action early on. Suddenly, snapping out of our bliss, Joe looked at the clock, let slip an expletive, and said he had to go. Hesitating, he asked if he could take a quick shower. After barely enough time to get wet, he ran into the bedroom, jumped into his clothes, kissed me, told me he loved me—words I had not expected, certainly not earlier that day—and dashed out the door. I curled up in bed, reliving the afternoon, and wondering if there would be a tomorrow.

The Affair

The next day I had to go home for the holidays. Joe and I hadn't had time to talk after our afternoon together. I missed him terribly and wanted to contact him, but he was never in his office when I tried to call and I couldn't try him at home for fear his wife would answer. I walked around with a huge secret that I wanted to shout from the rooftops, but couldn't, with an ache inside me that I couldn't relieve, with a hot, steaming desire that couldn't be satisfied.

I returned to school the weekend before classes started, almost two weeks since Joe and I were first together. My answering machine was full of clicks and beeps, indicating numerous hangups and one last, whispered message from Joe asking me to come to his office Monday morning.

I couldn't sleep Sunday night in anticipation. I wanted him, I wanted him to know that I wanted him, no, needed him. I went to campus as soon as I could, but there was already a line of students outside his office, all these poor unfortunates wanting to get into his class, needing some signature on some form, or something. I saw a friend at the head of the line and pleaded with her to cut in, telling her that I had an urgent personal problem that I needed to talk to Professor Smith about. Everyone complained, but Lindsey could see the distress in my eyes and she consented. The student already in Joe's office was taking forever, blabbing on about nothing, sucking up to the professor as students are want to do. I was dying in the hall. Finally, the talker got up to leave and I bolted into the office. Joe closed the door. We kissed passionately, intensely. Then, with him leaning against the door, I fell to my knees, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock and engulfed it. He tasted delicious. I licked and sucked—and adored his hard prick. With a few firm strokes of my hand, I was rewarded with a mouthful of cum. It splashed my tongue, my throat, filled my mouth to overflowing. I hated doing this with my old boyfriends, but it was his, he tasted great, and, well, there was no real alternative, so I swallowed the lot. I kissed him again, and told him to call me later at my apartment. I opened the door and left, leaving him to compose himself and deal with the even longer line of students now in the hall. I went home, stripped naked, and rubbed myself to orgasm in record time.

Life was now very complicated. With school in session, my roommates were always around. My apartment was not the place to carry on a discrete affair with one of the best known professors on campus. When Joe called that afternoon he urged me to meet him again, soon. But where? We settled on his office on Wednesday afternoon. He was free and could manufacture some excuse why he could not be disturbed. I arrived at 1, as we had agreed. He ushered me in, all business-like as his colleagues were milling about in the hall. He locked the door and pulled me into his arms. I melted. For some reason, probably the tension of the last few weeks, of wanting him but not being able to have him, I started to cry. He held me, comforted me, tried to understand what was bothering me. Gentle soul. But I couldn't tell him, I wasn't sure I knew, and what I did know I wasn't sure I could tell him. After a few minutes I composed myself, and offered my lips up for a kiss.

The tears evaporated and passion returned. I unbuttoned his shirt, caressed his chest, felt his warmth, his skin on my face. I kissed, then sucked his nipples. He rubbed my back through my shirt, held me close, and told me how much he had missed me, how great it was to hold me again—just the words that I had longed to hear. His hands eventually moved to my buttons, and slowly went to work. He slipped my blouse off and unclasped my bra, freeing my tits. I sat in his lap. He massaged my tits, licked and sucked on my nipples, buried his face in my cleavage. His hands moved to my thighs, rubbing and massaging my skin. They moved higher, and I spread my legs, inviting him to touch my pussy, play with my clit. He was surprised by the absence of panties, but I had assumed they would only get in the way and had intentionally "forgotten" them that morning. His finger was soon buried in my cunt, his thumb massaging around my clit. It felt wonderful. Out of the blue, I came, and came hard, biting down on his shoulder to stifle a scream. I pulled him up, dropped his pants and began to stroke his very hard and erect cock. As before, it was magnificent. Smooth skinned, beautifully veined, large but not too large, and with a clearly shaped head that foretold enormous pleasure.

I moved backwards until I bumped into the desk. Lifting myself up, I laid back, pushing some books and papers out of the way. Although he had obviously made a great effort to clean up his normally disheveled desk, he had not quite succeeded. A pile of books made an enormous thump as they landed on the floor—we both suppressed a tremendous giggle at the noise and joked that if the poor fellow in the office below only knew. I spread my legs wide and pulled him in. He paused, and stroked my clit with the tip of his penis. The sensation was incredible, but I wanted him inside me. Sensing my desperation, he stopped and entered me in one swift motion. I wrapped my legs around his ass loosely but firmly enough to urge him on. He started rocking at his hips, moving his cock in-and-out of my flaming pussy. He pressed down on my clit, pushing it into his dick and heightening the sensations. In only a matter of minutes, I came again, this time groaning so loud that I'm sure everyone around us heard the unmistakable sound of passion. Joe seemed lost. His hands on my tits, his eyes closed, his body was on auto-pilot, pulling out until that lovely head was massaging the entrance to my cunt, and then plunging all the way in until I felt it in my cervix. Watching him, feeling him, I rose again. We fucked harder, faster, and finally Joe came. I felt the explosion, the cum moving through his cock, filling my pussy with his seed. With a few more strokes, I followed him, enjoying my third orgasm within half an hour.

Suddenly, the desk was very hard. My neck ached from the lack of proper support. Joe got me a tissue, which I placed between my legs to catch the flood. We cleaned ourselves up as best we could, under the circumstances, sure that we would still smell of sex to everyone.

We met again the following Monday in his office. The circumstances were clearly not optimal. I missed him terribly and wanted to be with him always, but he had work, a family, obligations. I had an apartment full of roommates, and a secret the size of Alaska. I was fucking the man of my dreams, but couldn't tell a soul.

On Tuesday, Joe called and said he had a plan. He had to go to Washington for a meeting; we could steal two nights together. He asked if I could afford a ticket, he'd cover our other expenses. The shit! I thought by now he'd at least pay for my airfare. Since I was on a tight budget, I said I couldn't go. He thought for a moment and then suggested me might be able to hire me as his research assistant and then cover the airfare out of a grant. I think we both new this was skirting the law and might get us in trouble, but the desire to be together was too strong. We agreed to meet at the airport the following Monday. The week dragged by.

The Trip

The plane was full. We barely managed to get seats together. I know some people manage to experience sexual ecstasy with partners or strangers on planes, but I'd like to know what airline they fly. We were herded in like cattle, squished into seats that were too small, too close together. Hardly romantic. We chatted, held hands, cuddled a bit now and then. I rested my head on his shoulder, just like normal couples. It was nice, and probably more arousing than if we'd been trying to give each other hand-jobs without the fellow next to us catching on or doing it in the lavatory.

We finally got to the hotel and registered as "Mr. and Mrs. Smith." Here I was, with a man old enough to be my father, registering under the most common alias. Even the desk manager got a chuckle out of it until Joe handed him is credit card with the name Joseph Smith imprinted upon it. The bellhop took us to our room. It was decent, no luxury suite, but with a big king-sized bed, the most important thing as far as I was concerned. It had a bit of a view of downtown Washington, but the mall was obscured by the other wings of the hotel and an apartment building nearby.

Alone in our room, I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. After weeks of longing, days of anticipation, hours together on the plane, I should have had a plan. But I just stood there. Joe, too, looked like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-rushing car. I finally went to him, put my arms around him, and kissed him, first gently, then harder. Our hesitation melted away. Soon, hands were everywhere. Clothing tumbled off. Our lips and tongues tasted everything. We fell onto the bed, flesh-to-flesh. Urgent with desire, Joe's erection was enormous. Hot. Engorged. Nearly purple from the rushing blood. Equally excited, I pulled him into me. Stretching my insides, he slipped right in. I was filled again, physically and emotionally. After weeks of longing and only quick and unsatisfactory sex, I felt once again the deep, passionate sensations that I had first experienced with Joe. He took me hot, fast, just like we both wanted it, pumping in-and-out like a rabbit, no a jack-hammer. I shifted positions, sitting up and facing him on the bed so I could see his cock pound in-and-out of my body. On the out-stroke, my pussy lips stretched and extended around him, reluctant to let him go. On the in-stroke, they were pushed in, holding onto his prick as long as possible. Despite the mesmerizing view, I shifted again. I pulled myself off Joe, rolled over, stuck my butt in the air and offered myself to him doggie-style. The tightness of my pussy in this position pushed us both to orgasm. Joe fucked me hard, slapping his thighs against my ass. Letting out a loud moan, he froze and filled me with cum. I grabbed the headboard on the bed and used both my arms and legs to move myself against Joe's erupting cock. Soon after, I followed him with a series of gut-wrenching contractions that left me gasping for air. We collapsed on the bed.

Regaining our senses, we acknowledged that we were both famished from the West-to-East coast trip: you always lose a meal over the course of the day and the airline food is, well, enough said. Joe ordered room service, and I decided to take a shower and freshen up. Joe joined me in the shower—but as we didn't want to miss our food, we fooled around in the water for only a bit. I hopped out and wrapped a towel around myself. I fixed the bed, unpacked a few clothes, and slipped into my sexiest lingerie. The door rang. Panicking for a moment, the new boldness in me said "what the hell." I opened the door. As the waiter wheeled the cart into the room his eyes bulged—perhaps he was hoping that I had ordered more than just food. I decided to show off a bit, getting close to him to check the order, bending over the bed to get Joe's wallet out of his pants and letting my lacy, microscopic panties ride up into the crack of my ass. My tits jiggled in my lacy, nearly transparent camisole as I walked back to where he was standing. I handed him a few dollars, patted him on the butt, and whispered into his ear, "Not tonight, big fella. I'm about to be taken by someone else—again," and pushed him out the door just as Joe entered from the bathroom.

"Dinner's here," I said, "eat me while I'm still hot!" I sat down in one of the chairs, spread my legs wide, and pulled my panties aside. Not needing a second invitation, Joe knelt down in front me and starting licking and probing my cunt with his tongue. A flood of our juices was released. I was famished. While Joe ate me, I started to satisfy my other hunger, munching on a salad, trying to think clearly enough to manage a fork even though my mind was being constantly drawn back to my snatch by Joe's skillful mouthplay. Finishing the salad, I pulled him up, kissed him, and told him to change places. I took his dick into my mouth, kissing, licking him, trying to distract him as much as he had distracted me. When he finished his salad, I got up, spread my legs across his, and impaled myself on his reborn cock, sliding him into me before he knew what to expect. We managed, somehow, to get dinner inside us as well. My breasts, resting on his chest, formed sort of a plate. Each morsel that dropped needed to get cleaned up, of course. Each time I leaned to the table for more food, I would move on Joe's dick, stimulating both of us. It was awkward, but an altogether interesting and enjoyable way to eat dinner.

Finally finished with our meal, Joe picked me up, with his hard dick still inside me, and carried me to the bed. Laying us down together, he started a slow and methodical fuck. Having burnt off the sexual frenzy that had accumulated over the past days and weeks, we enjoyed each other at a more leisurely pace. With strong, confident strokes, he made beautiful love to me. Tenderly, he brought me to the edge and, sensing my orgasm approaching, stopped, only tensing his stomach muscles to twitch his cock inside me. He then started again, moving in-and-out, back-and-forth until I returned toward the crest, where he slowed down again. I was hot and wanted to cum badly, but he was in total control, a master at reading my body, testing it, forcing it higher on each wave but never letting me tip over the edge. Again and again I rose to the crest, each one higher and better than the last. Just when I thought I'd lose my mind, Joe finally picked up his pace, taking me harder and more rapidly. I knew this was the real thing and gave into the moment. I let myself be taken by this man, this wonderful lover with his brilliant cock. I gave in completely and was rewarded with an orgasm that rose from my extremities, rose like a giant tsunami, and finally crashed through my body with the intensity of a tidal wave slamming into land. I pitched, I roared, I cried out with abandon. Joe too let go, giving into the pleasure. Even as I lost myself in the wave, I felt him join me, his cock spurting and exploding, flooding me with a salty sea.

Exhausted, we fell asleep. Sometime later, perhaps in the middle of the night, Joe's limp cock slipped out, releasing a blob of cum from my cunt. It dripped out and ran down my thigh. I scooped it up with two fingers and sucked the salty goo into my mouth—reminding myself that this was all very real, and went back to sleep.

Sightseeing

Morning dawned. Still on West coast time, we had slept late. Joe dashed out, saying he'd get breakfast on the way to his meeting. I missed him already. The sheets smelled of sex. My cunt was still soupy. I got dressed, grabbed a bite, and decided to go sightseeing. I hadn't been to Washington since I was a little girl. I walked around the mall, visiting monuments. I loved the Jefferson memorial, and the new one for FDR. The Washington monument looked phallic to me, like an enormous dick ready to fuck the world. "What were they thinking," I asked myself? The day was warm, I was getting tired and I didn't want to be wasted for the evening, so I headed back to the hotel. Slipping into a revealing bikini I had gotten for the trip, I left Joe a note in case he returned before I did and headed for the hotel pool.

I stretched out on a lounge, leaving very little to the imagination. Several of the younger guys tried to hit on me. One offered to put some lotion on my back, but I pointed out to him that I was lying face up and was quite comfortable, thank you. Another offered to buy me a drink, even though I still had a half-full glass of iced tea at my side. They were quite handsome, these young men, and in other circumstances I might have been interested—but not today, not when Joe was due back soon. Around 4:30, Joe walked into the pool area, wearing some old, faded swim trunks, looking pasty with his near white skin—every bit the stereotype of the absent-minded professor who has not seen the sun in months. I smiled and stood up to greet him with a deep, passionate kiss, showing off a bit, I guess, for my previous suitors. Missing him all day, the sun had made me horny. I told him that, unless he really wanted to, I wasn't in the mood for swimming. Grabbing him by the crotch, and with a nod and a wink to my slack-jawed, lounge-chair lizards, I hurried Joe back to the room.

We fell on the bed, rolling around, feeling each other. Joe's meeting was boring, he said, certainly not worth the trip. I was, however. Our bathing suits, both dry, quickly slipped off. We played roughly, grabbing each other, wrestling on the bed. We ended up in a 69, me with his stiff cock in my mouth, he with his tongue on my clit and fingers in my cunt. Somehow this seemed to end the horseplay. We both set in for the long haul. Sensing from one another that we both wanted it long and slow, we gradually took each other over with our mouths. No talking, no playing, just serious and determined pleasure.

Joe's fingers worked magic—sliding in-and-out of my cunt, stretching my opening, popping my clit out of its hood. I was oozing juice by the gallon. Joe started slipping his fingers down to my anus. It felt good. I opened my legs further and tried to relax my cheek muscles as an invitation to him to play further. Soon, my invitation was accepted and a well-lubricated finger worked its way up my ass. With his other hand manipulating my cunt, his tongue flicking wildly over my clit, and new sensations opening up from my rear, my passion rose.