Professor's Pet Ch. 00

Authors note: This story takes place about a year before chapter 1, the story of John and Maggie's meeting, and eventually first time. Thank you to everyone who has patiently awaited this chapter. If you're looking for a quick sex story, skip to the end.

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John opened the door to the optical office and its little bells clanked against the door, sighing to himself for leaving his glasses on his bed during his nap yesterday. His alone time on Tuesday afternoon was disrupted.

"I'll be with you in a just a minute, sir," came a woman's voice at a nearby desk. She was helping a young girl get fitted for her first pair of glasses.

John followed the sound of the voice to a sweet brunette in her mid twenties and exchanged smiles with her. "Sure," he said roaming to the excess of men's eyewear on the wall. He didn't need new glasses but there isn't much to do to pass time in the optician's office.

He looked over at the desk from afar, specifically at the store associate, sneaking little glances as she giggled with the young girl. The optician showed the little blonde girl the mirror, "You'll be rockin' at school now," she said.

The optician was sexy in the girl next-door sort of way. A woman who would bake for you and blow you while her delectable treats were in the oven. She was young, later mid twenties, but old enough to have seen the world and develop her life. She wasn't terribly young, but compared to himself at thirty-eight, its was an acceptable age difference.

John tried not to stare and occupied himself as if he were picking out a pair of glasses. He tried on a few pairs that he couldn't really waste money on with the mouths to feed at home. His ears listened to her voice, soft with a slight hint of southern twang, as she went over insurance information with the mother.

He was able to glimpse at her in the mirror when he was trying on frames. Her lavender blouse continued to draw his eye. She was professionally buttoned up, not flaunting her cleavage, but his mind strayed to where that small strip of skin led.

He fumbled to put back a pair of glasses on the back light wall, distracted by the sales girl's alluring smile. His eyes were drawn to her glossed lips and pearly whites. He casually slipped his glasses back on his face and rubbed his mouth trying to sidetrack his thoughts, "Sloppy Joes, or spaghetti for dinner..."

As he stole peeks at the woman his glasses kept sliding off his face, reminding him why he was here.

The associate got up with the girl and her mother and led them to the register. Her movements drew John's attention; he quickly admired her dark purple skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, flaring out around her knees.

While walking behind the counter, she looked over at her waiting customer, "What can I help you with today, sir?" she asked.

"Just an adjustment, take your time," John said pleasantly. He wasn't rushed from being in the presence of a striking younger woman.

She smiled back to him, genuinely thankful for his courtesy.

She went about her work, explaining the forms to the girl's mother and paying her out. He watched how she interacted with her customers. Gracefully, was the only adjective that came to mind.

Her brown hair danced lightly just below her shoulders in soft layers. Her breasts gave the chest of her blouse a bit of a snug fit. He didn't mind. It made her curves stand out even more.

He shook off his thoughts; he still had to talk to this woman. He saw her smile a cheesy grin with the little girl and thank them for their business. It might be because he hadn't been properly laid in nearly a month, but he couldn't help but ogle the features of this stranger.

"Let me see if I can fix those glasses for you," she said kindly.

"I left them on my bed and one of my kids thought it would be fun to jump into bed to wake me up from my nap," he said with an uncomfortable chuckle, approaching the counter.

The associate raised a brow and smiled, "Your kids attack you while you're resting? That is so unlike anything I've ever heard about kids," she teased him. "Well, let me have a look and see what I can do."

She looked him over quickly. A man in his late thirties, some grey speckling in his brown hair, good height, his nose was large but it fit his strong features, and pretty darn handsome in a black sweater-vest, gray shirt, and tie. "Well hello there, handsome," she thought to herself.

He came up to the front of the counter and took his glasses off his face, thanking God his vision wasn't terrible and he could still look at the sales girl. He handed his spectacles to her and squinted at her etched silver name-tag, "Thanks, Maggie."

"You're welcome, sir," she said looking at the bent earpieces. "I'm going to use the heat and bend these back into shape for you. I do have glasses, just wearing contacts today. You can trust me," she winked.

Maggie smiled as John chuckled at her comment and turned around. She took a few short steps to the machine and turned it on, as she walked her hips swayed gently.

John got a slightly fuzzy, but good look at her legs for the first time, he looked down to her nude stockinged calves, "Are those stockings or pantyhose?" he wondered.

Maggie bent over just a bit as she used the machine, the slit on the back of her skirt opened up and he got a glimpse of lace stocking tops on her thighs. "Stockings! Fucking goldmine!" his inner voice screamed.

Suddenly his mind was invaded with visions of her bent over the counter and him plowing her from behind with her skirt pulled up over her hips. She continued working and he fantasized about the color of her bra and panties, if she was a moaner, if she talked dirty, and if she was wearing garters.

Maggie felt his eyes on her; enjoying the attention, she smiled to herself. She purposely bent over a little further and arched her back just a little bit more than she needed to. Her ass lifted up in the air for him, nonchalantly drawing more attention to her as she bent the earpieces back into proper shape.

His heart sped up a little and he closed his eyes, committing the view of her curved ass and hips to memory. His mouth had gone dry as he admired her body.

John's collar felt tighter around his neck, his mind running rapid as he waited patiently, and his cock stirring under his black slacks. He imagined pulling on her brunette mane and spanking that round bum as he fucked her juicy pussy. He wanted to fuck her on top of the counter, her legs pulled back so he could dig deep into her holes, her lavender heels above her head.

He wanted to fuck this young woman properly, ravaging her body and make her scream. His cock was swollen and strained against his slacks. He wanted to do things to her he could never get from his wife.

Maggie turned around and John coughed. She smiled a knowing smile, blushing a little. "You should be all set, lets take a look at these on your face first," she said a bit flustered, giggling at herself.

John leaned over a bit and let her slide his glasses onto his face, closing eyes to clear his thoughts. Maggie bit her lip in concentration sliding her fingertips along his temples, setting the earpieces behind his ears.

His nostrils opened, breathing in her scent as she moved in closer. She smelled like pure and clean soap. No fruit or flowery scents, just honest soap. She smelled natural, heavenly and intoxicating. He looked down for a moment and caught a glimpse of her breasts underneath her shirt, pushed up in her bra with shiny black satin cups. His inner voice praising the view as her soft, delicate hands adjusted the glasses carefully on his face.

"Look at me," Maggie said taking her hands away from his face.

John cleared his throat, thinking he'd been caught looking. He raised his soft green eyes to hers. The hazel of her eyes was a gentle blend of brown and green. He found himself lost in them.

"Sorry," he said, blushing.

Maggie smirked, "Nothing to be sorry for, I just need to make sure they fit properly."

"Oh, oh, yes, of course," John held still as she looked over the frames. He blinked a few times and took a few glances around at random places, feeling his eyes readjust slightly.

"Would you like me to clean these for you, too?" she asked and rubbed her glossed lips together. She gently pulled them off his face before he could answer and reached for a bottle of lens cleaning spray.

"That would be fantastic, thank you," he smiled.

Maggie sprayed the lenses and picked up a cloth, her arms squeezed her breasts together as she cleaned his glasses. John couldn't help but ogle her cleavage line that came further up her chest. He imagined what her tits would look like painted with his cum.

She handed him his glasses back with an innocent smile, "Anything else you need today, sir?"

"No, thank you, Maggie," he said slipping his glasses on and blinking at the clarity. "You don't have to call me sir, I'm John. John Gottschalk, or Professor Gottschalk on my better days."

Maggie smiled and chewed her lip for a moment, twirling a brown lock on her finger. "Professor Gottschalk," she said with a slight bow of her head, "well, it's been my pleasure."

He looked at her eyes one more time before leaving, she looked so innocent, but under he wondered what filthy rotten things she hides. "Thank you very much, have a great evening," he said calmly.

"You too. If you need anything else, we'll be here." she said smiling.

John turned and left the office feeling giddy. His lips were curled into a huge grin and his mind was filled with fantasies of the cute, young optician. He could still feel her hands touching his face and her aroma in his nostrils. She flirted with him, gave him that bit of attention that no one could take away from him, something he'd been lacking for the past while at home.

He headed home and took a quick shower before his wife got back. While soaping up he let his mind run free with the image of Maggie pleasuring him. He stroked himself to the thought of enjoying her body in the shower. His imagination ran wild, with her on her knees, his cock in between in her pouty lips, hot water running down his back. He wanted to push her up against the tile wall and thrust in and out of her, feeling her limbs wrapped around him, the steam from the hot water filling the air. He imagined shooting his load into her cunt. Instead, his load was wasted, pulled apart by the current of the hot water and jettisoned down the drain.

As days passed, Maggie continued to think about her customer. She spent her downtime at work daydreaming of him. She knew he was married. She saw his ring and he talked about his children. "There's nothing wrong with some innocent flirtation, right?" was one of many thoughts in her head.

Saturday night, John got an urgent phone call to go to an early season Chicago Blackhawks game. John convinced his wife to let him go have a guy's night. He took this opportunity and went out for a night of beer and hockey with his good buddy William. Between the first and second period, they got overpriced beer refills out on the concourse. As the men made their way to their seats, they checked out women in the arena walking by in heels that aren't meant for sporting events. They joked with each other about John's wife giving him a hard time about going out tonight as they sat back down.

John and William took their seats in the eighth row from the ice. They were stationed above the penalty boxes.

Early into the second period, the Blackhawks scored and the crowd rose up in jubilation. Unfortunately, one of William's wayward arms collided with John's refreshing beverage. He stared out in horror as his entire beer rained down upon the woman one row in front of him.

The woman screeched, cold beer soaking her shoulder to her stomach. She quickly turned around, her brown hair swishing through the air. She glared at him for soaking her shirt, "What the hell?"

The Fratelli's "Chelsea Dagger" blared on in the background as John's cup spun to a stop at his feet.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" John yelled quickly.

The woman lowered her glare as she recognized him at the same time he did for her.

"Oh, Maggie?!" he asked nervously, trying to rise above the sudden din of the crowd. The woman he had imagined naked countless times in the last few days right in front of him.

The joyous crowd finally quieted down for John and Maggie to talk.

"I'm so sorry," he fumbled to find the extra napkins he stashed for his nachos earlier. "I'm so sorry, please let me buy you a new shirt or something. I'm so sorry, you don't deserve to be soaked all night," he said, noticing her wet chest and the apparent lines of her bra underneath her black t-shirt as he handed her the napkins.

Maggie blotted the stain on her shirt, getting a hint of butterflies; she blushed for no other reason. "Yeah, I don't really want to smell like beer the rest of the evening."

"Are you okay?" Maggie's girl friend asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. This is John, he came into the office earlier this week," she introduced her friend to the man that had been occupying her thoughts, "John, this is Liz."

John nodded and smiled, "Nice to meet you Liz, sorry it's because I soaked your friend."

William cleared his throat, wanting to get in on the conversation between his friend and two pretty young women. His eyes focused on Liz. She was blonde and petite with delicious curves that hugged the hips of her jeans and the chest of her red Blackhawks shirt.

"This is my buddy William. This is Maggie; she adjusted my glasses this week, and her friend, Liz."

William took note of Maggie's bubbly blonde friend with a smile of appreciation. Liz batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as she was introduced.

"Come on, let's get you a new shirt. I told my kids I'd buy them something tonight, anyway," John said.

Maggie stood up, her shirt half wet with beer and her medium wash boot-cut jeans hugged her bum. John raised a brow and smiled, committing another vision to his memory. Both of them told their friends they'd be back shortly. Maggie followed John up the stairs of the loud arena, thinking about giving his ass a squeeze through his khakis. "You really don't have to do this, I'll be okay. I was joking about smelling like beer," she said as they entered into the concourse area.

They walked next to each other on the way to the souvenir shop. "I know I don't have to. But I'm a gentleman," he smiled.

"A gentleman who wants a free wet t-shirt contest," Maggie teased him.

She unconsciously grabbed his hand and stepped in front of him, leading him through a crowd of people. John was shocked; her hand was so soft and small fitting inside his palm. He grinned and took her lead, savoring the slight touch of another woman. She expertly darted in between standing lumps of people, tugging him behind.

Maggie blushed and pulled her hand out of his when they got through the crowd, "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to lose you."

"It's quite all right, being led around by a pretty girl doesn't happen often for me," he said.

She smiled as he opened the door to the souvenir shop, thanking him with a bow as she passed inside.

"So you have kids, how old are they?" Maggie asked as she looked through the racks of women's t-shirts.

John stayed closely behind admiring how she gracefully moved. "Three kids, ten, eleven, fourteen."

Maggie looked over and raised a caramel brow, "Oh, I assumed younger from them jumping on your bed, like you said." She pulled a shirt off the rack, looked at it carefully and put it back.

John chuckled, "Well, I lied. I rolled over my glasses, I thought it was a better story." He picked up a standard red team logo shirt for his wife.

She shook her head and laughed, "I may have to report you to my manager!"

Maggie smirked and turned back to a set of shirts. She hummed softly as she picked out a dark grey fitted t-shirt with vibrant red and golden yellow diamonds in an argyle print and Chicago Blackhawks, printed in script at the breast.

"Ooh. This one's cute," she said softly, peeking over at him, wanting his approval.

He watched her pull the shirt off the rack and drape it over herself; grinning as he watched her.

Maggie looked at the price tag tucked far inside the collar of the shirt, grimacing a little. "It's thirty-five dollars, that's too much."

"If that's the one you like, get it. I think it will look good on you, and you can always remember me."

She looked down at the shirt again and back at him, "Thank you. You are very kind, John."

He hung on her words, the way she said his name wasn't how he'd ever heard it before. Her tone gained eroticism when she said it and it turned him on. It might be the gentle southern charm in her voice that he wasn't used to, "You're not from here, are you?"

Maggie walked through the little store taking her time browsing, "That is correct," she looked over at him, "I'm from Texas, moved here about two years ago when the company I work for opened a new store. Do I sound like a hick?"

"No. No, it's very nice. You don't sound like a hick at all," John said, reassuring her. He looked at her feet as she browsed through the kids' stuff, reaching up to pull something off a rack in her silver ballet flats. "Chicago is a long way from home, how was the move for you?"

Maggie stayed on her tip-toes, scanning through the shirts on the top rack, "It was hard at first when I didn't know anyone. But I thought of it like an adventure."

"We all need adventure in our lives," John said, approving of her stretched legs and the contour of her bum.

"Do you have girls?" Maggie asked coming back down flat-footed.

John blinked a few times focusing again on the conversation. "Yeah, the older ones are girls."

She pointed to a high rack for him to get something down from a higher up rack, a stylish black t-shirt with the noble Blackhawk's logo faded. "They'd like those, I think."

He reached up to take down two girls shirts, "I'd like you," John's mouth said before his brain could catch up.

He felt the heat rise on his cheeks as Maggie's mouth dropped open in surprise, a shimmer of light on her silver tongue bead caught his eye.

Maggie fluttered her eyelashes trying to think of something to say. "Oh wow," she gasped quietly.

John pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for being blunt. Maggie's lips kiss his cheek ever so lightly, sending warmth through his being.

"It's okay," she whispered then stepped back. "Let's get something for your son."

John nodded apologetically and held the shirt hangers on his fingers making his way to the novelties. Maggie followed close behind looking at posters. John rummaged through the mini hockey stick varieties.

"Does he have a favorite player? Or something more artsy like this 'original six' poster?" Maggie asked pulling out a tubed poster.

John smiled and settled on a hockey stick, "So am I going to tell my kids that this cute girl picked out all their souvenirs?" he teased her.

Maggie rolled her eyes playfully, "They will wonder how you suddenly got such good taste." She handed him the poster and they walked to the register. While the cashier rang them up, they stayed quiet as Maggie and John exchanged a smile usually reserved for new couples. Then, he thanked the cashier and took his over-sized bag and gave Maggie the smaller one with her shirt inside.

They walked side by side until they neared the restroom. "I'm going to hop in there and change real quick," she said.

"Of course, I'm going to grab a few more beers and I'll meet you back here," John answered.

Maggie headed off to the restroom to switch shirts and give her hair a quick brushing. John bought four beers and carried them in the holding tray. Maggie smiled as she came out seeing him coming up to her.