The Professor Pt. 01

Jenna had a huge crush on her Creative Writing professor, even though he’d never used that title in class ever. He’d insisted on his students calling him Mr. Colin, Christopher or just Chris, his first name. But Jenna couldn’t quite get comfortable enough to do that.

Plus, she found it undeniably…hot. Professor. Every time she’d raise her hand to ask a question or approach his desk for something near the front of the small auditorium style room at the community college, she’d feel her face flush slightly. Close enough to smell his body deodorant, his subtle yet musky masculine cologne and breathing the same air made the nipples on her small perky breasts tighten to achy big bullet tips.

She’d feel those pink fleshy folds between her slender thighs grow moist, damp…achy. Jenna resisted such lurid fantasies of…him. Being with him. Undressing her slowly. First with his eyes and then his big gentle but rough hands. Touching her, kissing her, before he…

But Jenna would always stop those purely sexual fantasies from going further lest she moan aloud. She’d bite her lip and stifle it. He could never know. Trembling ever so slightly, she’d just smile and retreat back to her desk after she got her question answered. And Professor Colin would always smile back with his intense gray green eyes and long gray hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.

Jenna wasn’t a virgin but hadn’t much sexual experience since her first serious boyfriend in high school and a few others. The sex had been awkward, much too fast mostly, even if she’d cum sometimes. Then he’d cheated on her for another sluttier more adventurous girl (a blonde cheerleader with big boobs, no less) and Jenna had sworn off boys for a while. She’d graduated and began attending college. Briefly, she’d wondered if she should experiment with being bi, but decided not to. She liked guys.

Even when home alone in her dorm room when with her other roommates were out doing things, she’d never allow her sexual fantasies of him to completely take over. Even when she was naked in the shower. She’d start to touch her smallish breasts, pinching her nipples with one hand while her other hand slid down her trim belly to her aching pussy…but no, she always stopped. Sure, masturbating to him would be a fun hot release but it would only serve to drive her more crazy for him when she attended his class. Being close to him and knowing she couldn’t be with him.

Because she’d seen the ring on his finger. Her professor was a married man. Forbidden.

Besides, Jenna had no idea if he even noticed her beyond being one of his many female students. Sure, she was the pretty dark haired girl and got noticed by the opposite sex, but she was kind of quiet and shy and bookish, nor did she dress provocatively to get noticed like many college girls did. Certainly there were others in her class that maybe caught his eye more than her. But she was sure her professor didn’t think like that. He always seemed friendly, yet professional, and always focused on his curriculum and lectures.

Yet…a few times when she’d look up over at him, Jenna thought she’d noticed him looking at her. He’d smile, nod, and look back over at his notes. The few times that happened had made her face flush, her nipples harden and her sex grow moist. Achy.

Fuck. Jenna couldn’t stop thinking about him and feeling a little ashamed and embarrassed for these deep, unrelenting, and inappropriate thoughts and feelings. If she’d ever get alone with him for a few moments, like after class or in his office, she’d be do nervous yet so…aroused. Even if he did suddenly express a desire for her, even being married, she’d probably freeze up, unable to speak. Or maybe she’d pass out. If either of those things occurred he’d surely be totally put off by her. Turned off by her.

If only he’d been some older less attractive man, she thought. Balding and short. With Coke bottle glasses that made his watery eyes bulging and…

Jenna stifled a giggle. Thank God that wasn’t the case. She’d originally signed up for his class because he was sort of a local celebrity. An actual published author of several horror novels but nothing nearly as popular as Stephen King, whom he cited as his biggest influence. Still, she’d been curious and bought one of his books. Definitely dark and scary stuff and surprisingly…sexual. She was mostly a fantasy reader and wanted to become a published author one day. Ever since she was a little girl and fell in love with reading that had been her silly dream, anyway. She’d written short stories and poems and had been working on her first fantasy novel for a couple years now. She took his class because she wanted to hone her craft.

But lately she’d been consumed with him and not so much on her writing, except for her class assignments.

Jenna sighed. She definitely needed to spend more time on her book. Sometimes when she’d sit down at her laptop and go over what she’d last worked on (she had well over 120k words, which wasn’t unheard of when it came to sprawling fantasy bursa escort epics), Jenna would get overly critical and somewhat depressed. Thinking she was a terrible writer. That it was all crap. But she knew that wasn’t the case, she just needed to “soldier on” and finish it. She could always go back and revise it, edit it, and polish it.

Class ended for the day and she gathered up her things, stuffing them into her knapsack. As she got up and followed her classmates towards the door, Professor Colin called out to her.

“Jenna, may I speak with you for a moment please?”

Her heart nearly stopped. Was she in trouble? Did her last writing assignment really require a private conversation or something? Maybe he thought she was terrible…and she began to tremble all over.

“Yes, Professor Colin?” He smiled over at her as the rest of the students filed out.

“Please call me Christopher or Chris. I’ve never gotten used to that title and never will,” he replied as he stepped over to her after he gathered up his soft leather shoulder bag. “Besides, Professor makes me think of tweed jackets with leather elbow patches and a penchant for smoking pipes.” He chuckled and shook his head.

Jenna only smiled and tried to look away as he sidled up to her. God, he smelled good. She wore a bra but wondered if her stiffened nipples were visible beneath her blouse.

“I had this psych professor in college. A million years ago,” he told her. “He looked the part. Tweed coat and bearded and smelled like pipe tobacco. He’d just ramble on and on in class. Nice, smart guy but one of those types. An insufferable prick, in other words.”

Jenna giggled. Then blushed when he fixed her with his smile and intensely piercing gaze. Fuck. He was handsome up this close and that ache below her belly, between her thighs intensified.

“Would you walk with me to my office, so we can talk? Unless you have another class…”

Jenna was suddenly filled with a mix of trepidation and worry. Was she in trouble? Did her professor need to have a serious private conversation with her about her performance in class…like was she not meeting expectations like her other classmates? It had been early in the semester and she hadn’t gotten a grade yet…

“You’re not in trouble, Jenna,” he said. “Quite the opposite, in fact. Actually,” and he paused as they reached his office door and he opened it. “I see real talent and passion in you for writing. And I want to help you.”

She blushed and hesitated at the open doorway. He looked pointedly at her. He gestured for her to enter before him. She swallowed and stifled those very bad naughty thoughts of him. Thoughts she’d fantasized about for weeks.

He’s happily married, a college professor and a successful author, she told herself. He certainly wouldn’t want to mess around with a student. Even someone like me.

She took a deep breath and walked inside and she didn’t notice if he looked closely at her as she did. She thought she could feel his eyes roving over her body and maybe even a sharp intake of breath. She’d all but brushed past him, trying not to touch him and smell him. She was already so close to be totally turned on and didn’t need that happening. Especially alone with him in his office.

He closed the door and they were alone. His office wasn’t very big and other than his desk and single filing cabinet, the medium sized space was occupied with bookshelves and framed pictures of his various book covers. At first glance it would appear his offices was a bit messy and cluttered, yet organized somewhat, and she smiled to herself. Just like her small workspace in her dorm. It even smelled like him too.

She noticed the small worn brown and green sofa opposite the desk and between two bookcases. A small end table sat next to it.

“Sometimes I take naps there,” he said after noticing her long look at it. “I’m an early riser and occasionally don’t sleep well.” She looked at him smiling and he tapped his forehead. “Too many ideas floating around.”

He moved to his desk and dropped his bag atop it. “Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink? I have water and can make tea or coffee. Personally, I’m a tea man myself.” She saw the coffee maker sitting on top of the filing cabinet next to his desk, along with a small canister of tea and instant coffee, some packets of sugar.

“The cafeteria has this stuff but when I’m working it’s just easier to make it here.” The carafe was already full of water and he poured it into the empty reservoir and hit the switch. He settled into his desk chair and looked at her, still standing by his desk.

Jenna sat down in one of two padded chairs by his desk. Her professor had steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them briefly as he gazed at her. Then he smiled again.

“This is maybe too formal for a more casual conversation,” he said and got up. “Would you be more comfortable on the sofa?”

She wanted to say yes but no at the same time. It would be comfortably distracting, more so bursa escort the latter than the former. But she nodded anyway and said sure, whatever he thought was best.

He smiled and got up to move to the sofa. What he said next took her by surprise.

“You’re a lot like I was at your age, Jenna,” he remarked as he joined him, letting her sit down first. As he settled down just a few feet away at one end, her on the other but turned to face her, she felt a twinge in her tummy, a nervous flutter that slowly warmed. “I was this shy awkward young man. Had a lot of talent but didn’t know what to do with it other than having my face stuck in books all the time and filling many notebooks with my crazy stories.”

Jenna smiled. Just like me, she thought.

She mostly listened as he rambled on, but not unpleasantly, on his early years and how he’d developed and grew into his writing. Which turned into a career in his mid 20s with a flurry of short story sales in various publications and anthologies. Then his first novel got published in his early 30s. He’d never looked back. Because being a midlist author wasn’t conducive to living a fairly comfortable life, he’d been teaching for 20 years.

She loved listening to his deep and admittedly sexy voice, rapt with attention. His voice was the same as in the classroom but obviously more casual and relaxed. And just for her.

“So anyway, enough of that. I see a lot of me in you and couldn’t resist spending a little time with you, Jenna,” he said and paused to look down at his legs crossed at the knees. “The writer’s life can be a solitary if somewhat lonely existence and I also see a tremendous amount of talent in you…from what I’ve read.”

As part of his class, students were submitting a new short story, writing parts of it and emailing it to him for feedback, besides regular class assignments. They’d finish it after revising their completed story at the end of the semester.

Jenna blushed deeply. She couldn’t believe this. She didn’t know what to say.

“Wow, I’ve rendered you speechless,” he said and reached out to touch her jeans clad knee briefly. “I’m just teasing you, but I meant every word. Want a cup of tea?”

She found her voice and said, “Yes, please…and thank you, Professor…I mean…Christopher.”

“Or just Chris, please.” He poured two mugs of hot water and added the tea bags and a dash of sugar. Stirred them and came back to the sofa. He handed her the steaming mug and sat back down but much closer. And she’d noticed something else as he did.

The front of his khaki pants had a very distinct bulge. It wasn’t prominently displayed but defined noticeable. As Jenna sipped her hot tea, she wondered how…but no, she couldn’t think about that. Or dwell on his…size. Or if he’d been getting a little aroused. They hadn’t been doing anything remotely sexual.

Unless he’d felt a deep attraction to her like she’d been feeling for him. And this casual conversation in his office was just his way of getting her alone.

That was a ridiculous notion but she couldn’t shake the sense that she was right. Part of her wanted to get up and leave. She’d make up some lie about forgetting she had something to attend to and scurry out of his office. She’d thank him for his interest and wanting to help, to coach her but she also didn’t want to make him upset. Or disappointed.

But…she stayed put. Didn’t get up. Didn’t really want to. Her knees trembled and she squeezed her thighs together as she took another deep breath. Her nipples ached. Her pussy throbbed. And fuck…she was very wet.

She suddenly had a fantasy of him unbuckling his pants and pulling out his hard cock. She’d nervously bend down to take him in her warm wet mouth, sucking hungrily and moaning as his hands slid under her shirt and bra to fondle her breasts and pinch her nipples, which would make her ridiculously aroused and wetter and if one of her hands found her sopping wet sex, rubbing her through her jeans and soaked panties she knew she’d cum in seconds…

Jenna blinked herself out of her sexually explicit fantasy as he’d said her name, looking intently at her, his handsome face masked with concern.

She bit her lip. Had she just moaned aloud.

“Are you okay, Jenna?”

She felt her face grow hot and she nodded and apologized. She should get up and go, but then he shifted over to her and put down his cup. He took hers and leaned over to her suddenly, reaching for her with his hands and she knew he was going to touch her, to kiss her, and she started to push away, to get to her feet because this was wrong, this couldn’t happen…yet she wanted it to happen. She ached and throbbed for him.

His lips touched hers as his hands touched her shoulders. She pressed her hands to his chest as if to push him away but the electric tingle that coursed through her from her nipples to her clit made her stop. They kissed. Tentatively but with a growing hunger. Tongues probed and tasted. They both moaned and his hands slid bursa eskort down her back and around and down to her lap. His fingers began to unbutton her blouse and her hands dropped to stop him. Started to. And then she let him. Then he pushed up her bra and her nipples jutted out hugely and dark pink. If he touched her nipples she’d lose her mind, writhing her hips and wanting to fuck him, to ride him, to be taken forcefully by him, even if in doing so was totally wrong…

He did indeed touch her bare breasts and gasped as he teased her large erect nipples. He groaned gutturally and moved his face to kiss and lick them. She gasped and sunk her fingers into his hair. Fuck, if he kept doing this she’d surely cum in her panties. She moaned his name.

He stopped and leaned back. His eyes filled with lust and desire. His hands fumbled with his pants and he unzipped them and took out his cock. It was larger than average and thick, threaded with bulging veins. His cockhead was big and shaped like a juicy ripe plum. She wanted to touch him. Stroke him. Suck him…but suddenly she knew someone could knock on the door any moment and they were partially undressed and…

“Jenna, why don’t you touch it? You know you want to. Take it in your mouth…” His thick meaty veiny throbbing hard cock stood up, so erect it pointed it’s blunt head at his belly.

She hesitated, worried about getting caught and about how this was all kinds of wrong. Then he took her right hand and pressed it to his engorged member. Her small fingers closed his girth, so warm, almost hot, and quite taut. She could feel his beating pulse.

She’d obviously done this with guys before, her ex boyfriend and a few others, and while they’d always praised her deft oral ministrations, she’d never really enjoyed it. Sure it made her wet but most guys came pretty quickly. Plus it was kind of messy. Some wanted to cum all over her tits or face. Icky. Others wanted her to swallow their load, which she hadn’t been a huge fan of. But as she stroked and rubbed and teased his cock, making him ooze precum and smearing it over his swollen big cockhead, she really wanted to suck him. Lick him. Swallow his cum. Or doing anything sexual he wanted of her. No matter what it was.

She wanted to be a total slut for his cock. His cum. He could take all her fuck holes. Even her virgin ass. As long as he made her cum.

Most guys didn’t take long to cum with oral pleasure. Her professor, Christopher or Chris, was no different but as she slowly took him into her mouth, licking and sucking, he’d moaned deeper in sheer ecstasy, one hand in her hair and the other dropping from her nipples to her lap. His long fingers rubbed that achy wet spot between her thighs and she was certain he could feel how hot and soaked she was, nearly dampening her faded jeans. She wanted him to unbutton them and slip his fingers inside her panties to finger her pussy and she’d cum…

But then he cried out, hips jerking a little and she kept him in her mouth because she didn’t want to pull away and get his cum all over her clothes…but she gagged because he was cumming so much, more than any of her previous sexual encounters and she swallowed as best she could. Some of her saliva and cum dribbled down her chin.

After a few gasping moments, he pulled out, his softening but still semi hard cock glistening. Cum dribbled from his bulbous tip. She wanted to lap it up but he slid off the sofa to his knees and reached for her thighs, pressing them apart. His hands snaked for the button and zipper of her jeans, and she automatically started to stop him. But she didn’t want to either. Her pussy was drenched and molten hot with arousal.

They couldn’t. Someone would knock on the door or God forbid just enter his office and then…

“I want to taste you, Jenna. I want to see that beautiful pussy of yours,” he said in a deep lusty tone. “The door’s locked, by the way. No one will bother us.”

She removed her hands. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. In the her sexual past none of her brief partners and even the one longterm boyfriend hadn’t brought her to orgasm orally. One didn’t like doing, even though he loved her blowjobs, and the boyfriend went at her parts like he’d been enjoying an ice cream cone, but too quickly and with no inkling to rhythm and being able to sense what she liked or responded to. Plus none of them used fingers too.

Chris unbuttoned her jeans and tugged down the zipper. Then he pulled her jeans down her legs to her feet. Her pink panties had a huge wet spot where her achy throbbing pussy nestled at the bottom. He slid her panties down her thighs. He groaned deeply when he beheld her soaked pussy. Thick fleshy labia shone wetly and swollen with need. She’d kept her pubic mound trimmed but shaved around her labia, and he leaned down to trail his lips along them, kissing his way to her juncture.

She wanted to kick off the panties and jeans but he was already there, his face inches from her pussy and just let it happen. She wanted to completely surrender to him despite her fear of this, of doing this or what they’d already done and to hell with being caught (even with the door locked). She ached and burned to cum, to grasp his head and gyrate her hips and hips, undulating herself against his hungry handsome face.

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