Once again, thank you for the comments and the feedback. You guys have really motivated me to jot my thoughts down. A special thank you goes out to Rockcrawler Company for the wonderful words of encouragement. If you haven’t read the first five stories you might want to start there. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. Don’t forget to vote. Enjoy.

Another night, another fuck. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but why? How had this become my life? When had I become some sort of super-ultra-mega-stud that secreted Spanish fly? In high school and college I had dated my fair share of girls. There had been a couple of long term – and very monogamous – relationships that resulted in some sexual play. Nothing out of the ordinary, though. My time as a Master’s student, out on the East Coast, had been erotic wasteland; it was a good thing my hand still liked me, because I wasn’t getting any action from anywhere else. When I started my Ph.D., things began to look up. I had two brief flings with my fellow grad students (Sarah and Gwen respectively), but both affairs ran their course and petered out. I had been celibate for about a year, a fate to which I had grown eerily accustomed. Life had grown easy, without worrying about the sexual chase. Without those gnawing relationship worries, I could focus on studying, writing, and teaching. But that was the rub: when I wasn’t looking the teaching reached up and bit me in the ass. Or maybe it was really a spanking. I don’t know. Whatever it was, I liked it – and I had Jessica to blame.

Jessica: my 18-year old college cutie, my wayward nymph, and my very own special super-slut. She was the kind of sexual diva that I could not have suspected that I would ever carnally know. She was a fantasy made real by a simple grade negotiation; she would suck my cock and I would give her a good grade. Done and done. But the real conundrum was that she didn’t leave. Instead, she brought me over to her dorm room and demanded that I fuck her again. And then fuck her roommate. And a couple of days later fuck some mystery friend too. Somehow, along the way, I also got a random hand job and screwed my Ph.D. advisor in her office. Life was certainly strange, but pretty darn wonderful too.

So there I lay in bed, thinking about Jessica and my new found access to pussy. Tomorrow I had several classes, one of which was with Dr. Jen Endicott, my Ph.D. advisor. That encounter would probably be a little awkward, considering how she demanded Saturday evening that I skull-fuck her with my cock. I am not sure if her thoughts on feminist criticism in class tomorrow would ring as true as usual. The question that was really eating at me, though, was the identity of the woman I had fucked earlier in the evening.

After Jessica took the ridiculous hat / blindfold off my head, she told me that she needed to go. We came together for a single, lingering kiss that melted me inside. I asked her to spend the night with me, but she begged off citing that she had important rush activities that needed her attention. So we parted ways. I went home, did some mindless preparations for my classes the next day, and went to bed. And there I lay with my thoughts.

Slowly my eyelids grew heavier and I drifted off to an uneasy world of dreams. It was one of those nights where my sleep time was a series of flashes, each jarring and vivid in their own way. Images of naked female flesh circulated through my dream vision, causing me to wake up in sweats. When finally I fell asleep for good, the alarm rang. I was not ready to face a new day. I was exhausted from the fleeting ephemera of luxurious sex that had romped seductively through my mind.

After my morning routine, I went up to my office. The crisp morning air was revitalizing. I opened the window, and slowly the lingering after-shocks of the night began to recede. I examined my planner and got ready for the three classes I had to attend that day.

With ten minutes to spare, I heard a light rap on the door. I turned around and saw my fellow grad student – and friend – Sarah. She had been nice enough to cover my classes the day before. Sarah was wearing a ribbed, magenta shirt and tight black dress pants. She looked a little taller than usual, at about 5′8,” because of the high-heeled, black leather boots she was sporting (I remember Sarah bragging that she got them for a steal on Ebay a few weeks ago). A new-agey, crystal, astrology necklace dangled from her neck, weighing down and defining a cleft between her spectacular breasts. Her black, horn-rimmed glasses gave her an ultra-cute, Lisa Loeb kind of look. Her feathered, chestnut hair capped off an amazing look. It was not hard to tell that Sarah was smart, sexy, and very well put together.

“Hey dude, you ready for class?” I have never figured out Sarah’s idiom. For some reason she calls everyone dude, and when she does her voice takes on a comical deep, pseudo-surfer tone. Strangely enough, she grew up in Ohio.

“Yeah, Sarah. Let me just pack everything up. I don’t know how I can mess up my desk so quickly. How are you doing?

“Pretty good. Life’s busy, but when isn’t it? We have those papers that are coming due. I’m pretty far along, but it would be great to have some more time to procrastinate. How ’bout you, dude? Did you get the work done you needed to yesterday? You sounded like you were on quite a roll.”

I smiled and answered, “Yeah I did. Thanks for the help. It was nice to have the entire day yesterday to focus on Stephano’s paper. Did my classes give you any trouble, yesterday?”

When I spoke them, my words were completely innocent. I wasn’t thinking about the phone conversation that had taken place between Jessica and I last night. As soon as I said them, though, Sarah’s face broke into a deep scarlet blush – and then I remembered. “What?” I said, my voice dripping with false sincerity.

Sarah looked around and poked her head outside in the hallway. She looked left then right, and didn’t spy anyone. Not taking any chances, though, she entered the room and closed my office door. She then sat down and scrutinized my face. It was clear that she wasn’t sure if she could trust me. I just stared blankly and signaled that she should start talking.

Her mouth opened twice before any sound came out. But then she whispered conspiratorially, “Dude, one of your students flashed me yesterday!”

I decided to play dumb. “What?! Who was he? We need to report him immediately.”

“Ummmmn, no,” Sarah said looking a little green. “It was a girl.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. She sat in the back row. Blonde, all-American type. She and her friend were wearing matching skirts and tank tops. She was practically spilling out of her shirt. Anyway, she had been looking at me strangely all class. I was up there, behind the podium, describing the visualization step when looked right at me and spread her legs. It was like that Sharon Stone scene from Basic Instinct. And she wasn’t wearing any underwear at all!”

“Really?” I gasped.

“No shit, dude!” Sarah exclaimed, getting caught up in the moment. “She was right there looking at me dead-on with her puss all spread open. It was like she was daring me to stare right back at her.”

“So did you?”

Sarah got all red again before she answered, “For a moment, and then I forgot where I was. It’s like everything just broke down. So, I let class go a little early. Sorry about that.”

I smiled and then responded, “Damn! That sounds like you just described Jessica something. I forget her last name. Wow! Why did I choose to skip teaching my class yesterday? It figures, you get all the luck. You get to ogle a girl’s crotch and I get to write a paper. Where’s the justice?”

Sarah reached over and lightly punched me on the arm. “Jerk. You aren’t supposed to want to see them naked. They’re your students. They’re your responsibility. Besides, they’re just eighteen.”

“I suppose,” I said, with what must have been a big, sheepish grin on my face. I could picture the moment perfectly. It played out in my head: Sarah would be teaching, Jessica opened her legs, and Sarah got a first-class view of Jessica’s shaven, little coochie. “So, did you like her shave job?”

“Shave job? I didn’t say anything….” Sarah’s voice trailed off as I realized that I had given myself away. Instead, she looked at me, staring into my eyes rather intensely. I could feel the heat of her look boring into me, searching for what I knew. Sarah spoke again, “You’ve seen her before, haven’t you? This wasn’t the first time that wench showed herself off, was it?”

Now I was on the defensive. I had to think fast. How much did I want Sarah to know? Could I trust her with my secret? Should I try to make this a voyeur / exhibitionist thing, or should I give her the full scoop? There were no easy answers here. I wanted to gain Sarah’s trust. I didn’t want her to think I was some sketchy perv that molested his students. On the other hand, I didn’t want her to read me and know I was lying – a truly dangerous possibility if Sarah were to get self-righteous with me. She could then get even angrier. But was that possible?

“No Sarah, it wasn’t,” I confessed. “I’ve seen her too. She’s done the same thing to me in class as well. I guess she likes showing off”

Sarah was really looking at me, holding my eye contact. Every word she spoke, she chose with careful consideration, “Is that all? Is there anymore? Did anything else happen? You can get in major trouble for this stuff.”

I responded with more intensity than I had intended to, “Jesus, Sarah don’t you think I know that? This is huge, absolutely huge! This is my life here, and it could all go South in an instant. Whether I did or didn’t do anything is irrelevant – the mere allegation of impropriety is enough to get me tossed out of here.” The words were coming like a torrent. I had been thinking them for so long, that I couldn’t stop them once they started. “My grades don’t matter, my evals don’t matter, nothing matters if this gets out. Please don’t say anything.”

“But did you do anything?”

“Do you really want to know the answer?” I looked at Sarah, searching her face for understanding. “Will it make any difference?”

“To me it will. Can you talk to me? Look, I am your friend. I understand and I won’t judge. You need to say it, and you can trust me. Did anything happen between you and Jessica?”

Everything was very still. I could hear the hum of the florescent lights as I searched my brain for the proper words.

“Yes. Jessica and I have had,” I gulped as I completed the sentence, “sex. It started a few weeks ago and has happened a few times since then. It wasn’t something I sought out, and it was not something I looked for from other students.” It was probably best to keep all of my other extra-curriculars on the down-low.

Sarah’s mouth hung open in shock. Clearly, she had not expected me to answer as I did. Sarah shifted in her chair, stood up, and went to the door. She spoke as she opened it. “Ummm, gee. Thanks for being so candid. I got to go get my books. We are late for class.” With that she turned on her heels, and practically ran down the corridor.

Shit! That was dumb. Why did I open my mouth?

My first two classes were pretty typical. Professor Ferguson spent the time sidetracked by useless minutia, while Professor Stephano worked his way through a dizzying array of pre-made overhead transparencies. Sarah, who normally sat next to me in Ferguson’s class, instead took a seat at the opposite end of the room. Every time I tried to make eye contact she looked away and buried her head in her notes. Damn! At the end of class Sarah bolted out the door, before I had even gathered my things together. Clearly, Sarah did not take the news well. I had no idea how to handle this time bomb situation

After my two classes, I needed a little air. I headed outside to the quad, and parked myself at a bench under a tree. The chill air had shaken off most of the leaves, but somehow it felt more comforting – sheltering – to sit under the tree’s sprawling branches. I opened a book and pulled out a highlighter, but I knew reading was going to be impossible. My mind was still reeling from the conversation with Sarah and of all of its future implications.

But another thought was creeping into my mind, playing itself out. From my vantage I could look out over the quad. A constant stream of students – coeds! – passed in front of me. They walked, bundled against the brisk air, from building to building unaware of my lingering eye. I covertly started, gazing at each one, trying to discern the mystery of their identity. Which one was it? Had I seen her yet today? Where was she? Which one had I known intimately – carnally? Who had held me in her mouth, sucking my bulbous head with delight? Which of these delectable teens had pulled aside her panties and squatted on my cock? Whose pussy had been wrapped around my cock? Who had moaned as I shot cum up inside of her twitching cunt? Everywhere I looked I saw question marks, possibilities of what may have been. While Jessica was right (the mystery was a definite turn-on), the lack of knowledge was also a devious form of torture. But what exquisite torture!

How pathetic I am! I might be busted beyond all repair, and yet all I could think about was my sexual conquests. Damn, I had to get out of this pussy haze. I needed to get going, though. I had frittered my time away staring at the undulating mass of college women crossing the quad. Now I needed to go to class. This time, though, Professor Jen Endicott was the course instructor.

I walked into the classroom and coolly plopped down in my usual seat. While I tried not to notice, Jen looked absolutely amazing today. She was wearing a gray skirt, cut just above the knee, and a turtleneck, black sweater. A thin, gold necklace accented the dark colors perfectly. When she saw me sitting down, she smiled. It was warm, open, and inviting – but absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. I smiled back, broke eye contact, and shuffled through my notes. This would be easy, she had let our congress go.

Jen launched into her lecture on post-modern feminism. As usual, she was completely captivating. I thought, not for the first time, this is why I am in grad school – to learn from teachers like this. I picked up my pen and started writing. My notes quickly filled the page, and all too soon she dismissed the class.

I picked up my stuff, and piled everything into my attaché case. I was nearly out the door when I heard Jen say, “Could you hold up just a minute? I was going over some things for your dissertation and I would like to talk to you about them? Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure, I can talk.”

“Good, let’s head up to my office.”

Together we walked out of the classroom, down the hall, and up a flight of stairs. She walked ahead of me, giving me a great view of her ass. It was toned, rounded, and firm beneath her silky gray skirt. I wanted to reach out, grab it, and perhaps bury my face in it. I would love to spend hours sucking at her beautiful little starfish, her luscious, puckered asshole. It was surely musky and delicious. Those thoughts needed to be banished, however, because this sounded purely like a business meeting. Besides, who knows who might be watching.

We got to Jen’s door, which she unlocked with her key. Swinging it open, she ushered me inside. From there, she quickly closed the door again and said to me in a low whisper, “God, I want to fuck you.” What a change! She had transformed from business-like professor to seductively, horny vixen in a matter of seconds.

She raised up her skirt and hooked her fingers in the waistband of a pair of black, t-backed panties. Wiggling her fingers around, she gave me a smoky look and said, “Do you like these? Would you like to taste them?” I nodded, dumbly. Jen cupped her pussy, rubbing her snatch against the silky material. A dark spot of moisture formed at her crotch. Satisfied with the results, Jen slowly pulled the sheer panties down her smooth, slender legs and then stepped out of them. Jen turned around and bent over at the waist. The lovely, swollen folds of her pussy were there for my inspection and gaze. A glint of moisture beckoned me to take in her delectable pink hole. I couldn’t wait to bury my cock into that gorgeous cunt. Jen picked her panties up off the floor and crumpled them into ball. She lewdly grinned as she caught my eyes lingering at her sex. She rubbed her undergarments over her pussy one more, saturating them with her cunt-juice. I could smell them - her musk was potent – as she held them up to my face. “Open wide,” she said before stuffing her underwear into my mouth.

Jen pushed me against a wall, and began to peck at my neck with rabid kisses. We were both feverish with lust. She was pressed against me, grinding my body to hers. I could taste her delicious arousal on the makeshift gag she had made with her panties. It was potent and sweet; I knew that I would soon have to go back and drink her juice directly from the source. But later. One of her hands reached around and groped my ass. Her other hand hungrily dug into my crotch. She grabbed the length of my dick through my jeans and slid her fingers downward. “Mmmmmm, I love cock,” Jen moaned as she traced the shaft and authoritatively cupped my balls. My own hands were not idle. I pulled her to me, and smacked her lightly on the butt. She squealed girlishly, got down on her knees, and then unzipped my fly.

Jen reached inside my pants and pulled out my cock, as she said, “I want to suck you. I want to feel your throbbing man meat at the back of my throat. Your cock is so yummy, so good.” It was not yet hard, but with words like that I knew things would soon change. My professor would see to that. I was completely exposed. My dick was protruding from my pants, dangling slightly from the hole of my zipper. Jen’s gripped my dick firmly by the hilt and brought it toward her waiting mouth. She was clearly not in the mood for play; instead, she threw herself on my pole, gobbling down my throbbing meat with zeal. She took me as deeply as she could. My raging dong pummeled the back of her throat. I could hear her gag and then gasp for air. My dick was now shiny with her spit. Her tongue swirled round the head of the tip, twirling the long strands of spittle draining onto my cock. She slurped, nibbled, and licked, inhaling my length in slutty fervor.

I marveled at what seemed to be Jen’s deep-seated love for rough blowjobs. I couldn’t believe that fifteen minutes ago she had been on a furious rant about the male patriarchy and its dominance over women. Now she was on her knees worshipping my male organ, like a fucking whore. Her head bobbed back and forth sending trails of saliva flying. Her mouth formed a surrogate cunt for my cock to fuck, but she was doing the fucking. I simply stood there, hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair, as she kept throwing herself onto my dick.

I was now rock hard, my erection throbbing. She pulled me from her mouth and gave me a final lick. Jen stood up, grabbed me by the collar, and threw me onto her swiveling, office chair. I am sure that I looked ridiculous with my dork sticking rigidly up from my jeans, a dopey smile on my face, and a pair of black panties dangling from my mouth. No matter. My professor hiked up her skirt and let it bunch at the waist. From there she squatted down and straddled me. Her hand reached into my lap and lined my cock with her cunt. She was wet - soaking; I could feel the moisture on her soft outer lips coating the tip of my cock.

Jen looked at me, piercing me with her brilliant eyes, and moaned softly, “I am going to fuck you. I am going to fuck you hard and fast and you are going to cum inside me. You are going to fill my hot, wet pussy with your sticky cum.” Jen thrust herself down onto my length. I was encased in her warm, pink, hole. Once again, I was inside my professor. I had not intended for this to happen again, but somehow it did. My professor was sitting on my lap, with my cock buried deep in her snatch.

Jen began to move. The first few thrusts were tentative, but Jen quickly began to pick up speed. This was not going to be a long, sensuous fuck. Rather, I could feel her tension mounting, her building desire. She was coming on hard and fast, bouncing up and down on my dick. I could hear the naughty slap of skin on skin. Jen was riding me, moving her hips forward and back, for all she was worth. She was a demon unleashed, a succubus demanding my cum.

I couldn’t take it anymore; I needed to bang her. I grabbed Jen around the waist, pulling her towards me. I stood up, holding her, still connected by where our cock and pussy were joined. I was standing, holding her in the air, her legs wrapped around my ass. She was mounted on my cock, bouncing up and down in the air. Her face was contorted into a mask of desire. A whispering tumult of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck, fuck,” spilled from her lips. Still driving into her, I lowered my Professor down to the floor. When her supple ass hit the cold tile, I again drove my cock inside of her – bottoming out. A lewd squelching sound erupted from her cunt. She groaned as I raised her feet up in the air. I grabbed hold of high-heeled shoes, and pummeled her juicy, pink pussy. I needed this, to take control. I had to go at her with a rage, to fuck her senseless - until she couldn’t remember her name. I looked down, as I slammed into her. My dissertation advisor was splayed open before me, spread wide for the remainder of this fuck. Jen moaned. Shit! We were inside her office, and the walls weren’t very thick. I needed to do something. Someone outside could hear our rutting. While buried inside of her, I reached down and covered her mouth with my hand. Jen looked up at me, teeth clenched. Sweat beaded on her forehead. She was obviously cumming, but trying to hold the sound in. I could see her body contort in pleasure. Jen thrust her legs ramrod straight in the air, as her muscles tightened. Her pussy twitched and spasmed around my rock-hard cock. She was so obscenely beautiful.

Jen’s orgasm coaxed me into mine. I couldn’t hold out. I needed to cum. With one final heave, I jammed my dick deep into her fiery snatch. I fell on top of her, twitching. She reached around me, holding me close. The sweater she wearing pressed hotly against my chest. Her long muscular legs were wrapped around my ass, pulling me deeper inside of her velvet fuck-hole. I felt the sudden spasm and release as I spurt my cum into her womb. Jet after jet of steaming jizz fired inside of my Professor’s sweet, wanton pussy. We held each other for a long moment, sweat co-mingling, our breath falling back to normal. She looked so lovely, lying beneath me on the dirty, tile floor. I caressed her face and spit the panty gag from my mouth. Then I leaned in to kiss her. Jen flinched and quickly moved her lips away from mine. She spoke with cold authority, “Stop. No. I won’t do that.”

I was stunned. My dick, though softening, was still inside of her. She’d sucked my cock; we had fucked furiously. It didn’t seem like there were any acts that were too primal, raunchy, or lewd for us to perform together. But she balked at the possibility of a kiss?! I am sure my face scrunched in confusion. “Why?”

Jen took a breath and spoke, “Listen, I love fucking you. You feel so incredible inside of me. I would like to do it again. But I don’t want this to go too far. I have other things to consider.” With a sudden movement she rolled out from underneath me. I flipped over and spilled onto my back. The cold floor was jarring. It reminded me of where I was, and whom I was with. The confusion I felt was certainly one of the natural consequences.

Jen stood up and smoothed her skirt. She looked a little disheveled, but a few minutes in the bathroom would do wonders. Assuming no one heard us, our affair – our torrid, deviant, student / professor fuck – would remain a secret. I stood up and silently put on my clothes. The room felt heavy, with the meaning I wanted to ascribe to the event. Was this just a fuck? Is that even possible? I smiled at her and she smiled back. I gave her a hug, before opening the door and stepping into the hallway.

We never did discuss my dissertation.

A few minutes later I found myself back in my office. It was about 1:30 p.m. While I wanted to get home to my computer, I had to wait out my office hours. I wouldn’t be done for awhile. Students never come by except when some major project is about to come due. Today was an in-betweener; nothing would be due for awhile. My office hours were sure to be pretty desolate. If I left though, I knew someone would stop in to talk to me. Life always seems to work that way. So I committed to the boredom, and stayed.

I cracked my books and started reading. I had opened the window a smidge, to let in the brisk winter air. It was invigorating. Fucking my professor had worn me out, but I could slowly sense my energy coming back. The texts I was reading held my attention for a little while. Soon, however, my gazed wandered from my books to the window. From my view, I could see it all. I was the watcher above everything. And I knew that she was down there somewhere. That girl, that girl I had fucked. The slut with the tongue piercing. The mystery woman who rode my cock, but remained nameless. The coed with whom I had done one of the most intimate things possible – I had cum inside of her tight, teenage cunt.

Who was it? The one with the red scarf? The coed bundled in a green parka? How about the woman in the jean jacket, eating a banana? I wish; she had skills. But I couldn’t know. Would I ever know? I realized that these thoughts were becoming an obsession. It scared me knowing how much I enjoyed them.

Several hours had passed when a light knock at my door shook me from my studying / fantasizing. I heard a soft, feminine voice, “Professor, do you mind if I come in?”

I looked up. A tall, thin brunette stood in my doorway, gazing at me with liquid green eyes. She was wearing low-riding jeans that accentuated her rounded hips and high, tight ass. Her thin, pink sweater didn’t completely cover her lean stomach. I could see the shape of her pubic bone rising above the denim. Her skin was tanned a deep bronze. Clearly, she was a salon beauty. A whiff color was also visible, as her hot pink panties crept above the frayed top of her jeans. Her teen breasts were smallish - but perky – a definite handful. She stared at me with a knowing, mischievous smirk. It took me a moment to realize that I knew her. Then I smiled back.

“C’mon, on in Taryn,” I said turning my chair toward the door. I had met Taryn about a week or two ago in a single chance encounter. It had been late at night in the bathroom in Jessica’s dorm. Earlier that evening, Taryn had heard me fucking Jessica and her roommate Shannon. Taryn was so turned on that she had to take advantage of the situation. While we didn’t have sex, I did walk away from that meeting the proud recipient of a soapy, Grade A hand job. “What can I do for you?”

“What can I do for you? Is that how you are going to greet me, Professor? I know you have a lot going on, keeping all those women satisfied and all, but I would think you would be a little happier to see me. I mean, I don’t just give every guy I meet a helping hand.”

I blushed. She smiled and kept on talking, “I haven’t seen you in a little while, and that makes me sad. I thought you were going to visit me?”

I stuttered for a moment before speaking, “I didn’t realize you were serious. I really enjoyed myself. You seem like a great girl. I just thought that was a one-time deal.”

“You thought wrong. I gave you my room number. I’ve been waiting. Nothing happened, so I decided to track you down myself.”

“How industrious of you. You certainly look great.”

“Thank you, Professor. Do you mind if I close the door?” I thought about it for a moment. I knew where this was probably going to lead. Would Jessica mind me fucking another of one of her friends? Get real. Jessica would only be cross if I didn’t screw one of her friends. I chuckled, before I shook my head “no.” Taryn flashed me a winning smile and kicked the door closed. I heard the soft click of the lock, and a sense of excitement rippled through me. We were alone.

Not knowing what to say in this rather bizarre situation, I decided a complement would be best. After all, I have found that one can never go wrong by complementing a woman, “Taryn, you look absolutely stunning.”

“I bet you say that to all the women who are about to suck you off,” Taryn quipped back. ” I have been wanting that dick of yours since that night when I wrapped my fingers around it in the bathroom. It was so thick and juicy. It looked so yummy. And those nasty sluts Jessica and Shannon will not shut up about sucking and fucking you. Every time I see them they just go on and on about your cock. I must have it, professor. I need to see if it tastes as good as they say it does.”

I leaned back in my chair, reached down, and unzipped my jeans. I reached inside and pulled out my dick. At the moment it was soft, but I didn’t expect it to stay that way for long. I looked Taryn in the eye and said, “If you want to do suck it, Taryn, go ahead. All you have to do is take off your top. Then you need to ask very, very nicely to put my cock in your mouth.”

Taryn curtsied, like a belle at a ball, and then took off her sweater. She threw it carelessly on the floor next to my desk. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so her teen tits bounced into view completely unfettered. They were beautifully rounded, with puffy pink nipples. The one on the left had a tiny barbell piercing. Her tits looked oh, so suckable. I couldn’t wait to get my dick between them for a good titty-fuck. Obviously pleased with herself, Taryn said in a pleading, little girl voice, “Please Professor. Let me put your dick in my mouth. I wanna suck it. I gotta taste you. Please let me give you a sloppy, wet blowjob.”

I leaned back in my chair, grinned, and beckoned Taryn forward. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards me. It just took moment, but it seemed to stretch on forever. This sexy teen was coming for my cock. She was begging for it, craving it. She had sought me out, and best as I could tell there was no other motives than a wanton desire for my cock. Taryn was now before me, looking up at me with at me with fierce desire. Her hands wrapped around my ankles, and ran up the inside of my pants legs. Her face edged closer to my organ. I could feel her warm breath. Taryn looked up me and said a single word, “Pleeeeeeeease?”

I reached down, took hold of my dick, and smacked her with it on the nose. She giggled, “Do it again.” So I did, and then tapped her two more times on the cheek. She dodged a third blow, and responded by giving my dick a playful lick. “Take that, Professor. If you don’t stop hitting me with your cock, I am going to have to lick you.” I already knew that I was bad boy, so – what the hell? Once again she got my cock to the face.

Now I had to be properly punished. Taryn captured the tip of my dick with her moist lips. Her head bobbed once, wetting the top third of my shaft. Her tongue then began to work overtime, licking the glands underneath my head. Jolts of pleasure rocketed through me as my dick swelled in her mouth. Taryn’s lips stayed stationary as her tongue swirled around me.

“Yeah, suck that cock! Are you a good little slut? You bet you are, you suck my cock so fuckin’ good” I moaned. Taryn continued to work her magic. I could tell she was pleased with the filthy torrent of words spewing from my mouth. She was looking at me and smiling as she held ran her tongue along the bottom side of my cock.

She began to move her head, taking me further into her mouth. The blowjob was now being conducted in earnest. Taryn had fallen into a rhythm, a staccato pattern of inhales and exhales. She was a cocksucking machine, working my meat with gusto; at least she was until someone outside the office door, jingled a key in the lock. Taryn spit out my cock and looked at me with fear. I wildly gestured for her to crawl under my desk. With cat-like speed, she bolted underneath. Just as the door opened, Taryn’s hand snaked out into the room to grab her pink sweater. I, on the other hand, rolled my chair against the desk and began to scrutinize the notes that were in front of me. As long as I didn’t move, my cock, which was exposed and dangling from my pants, would be blocked from sight. On the surface, all evidence of our tryst was gone. She was hidden from view, and I was hunched studiously over the desk.

Enter Cindy, a blonde spitfire of a Southern belle. She was my office mate, and occasional drinking buddy. I hadn’t seen her much this semester, since we had been running on very opposite schedules. She was petite, at about 5′0′, with monster tits that seemed way too big for her tiny frame, and a cute face that was always smiling. She certainly was a beauty, but I never pursued her. Cindy had long distance relationship with a guy who lived in who lived in Savannah, GA. While I knew the distance frustrated her, they seemed like a pretty serious couple. I had met Zach once before, and he was nice enough – despite being more that fifteen years her senior.

“Hey stranger, long time no see,” Cindy said as she set down her bags and books. “It has been awhile. How are you doin’?”

I needed to focus to keep up the conversation. “Good. Yeah, I agree it has been too long. What are you up to?”

“Not much. Johnson is being a major pain in my ass right now. His paper is crushing me. It’s due in the next few days and I have no idea what I am doing with it yet.”

“That sucks. I feel for you. I had him last semester, and it was absolutely terrible. Never again, I tell you,” I said, trying my best to make conversation. It was pretty hard to do with a sexy, half-naked, college coed between my legs and under my desk.

“Yeah, I remember you talking about him. I should have listened, but he was the only one offering the last of my required courses this semester. I need to get back to studying, but I wanted to grab a few things before I headed home,” Cindy said while shuffling her papers. “It’s getting busy again for you too, eh?”

“Yeah, I have been practically living in front of my computer at home, and I think all this Postmodern crap is making me nuts. Too many papers, too much reading. It is all coming due.”

Cindy nodded her head in absent-minded agreement and went back to rifling through a stack of papers on her desk. I bent over my own notes again in an attempt to look studious – and I felt a soft, wet, tongue circle the end of my cock. It was a tentative flick, but certainly enough to get my attention. Taryn was feeling frisky. I jumped a little, and Cindy looked at me with amused surprise. She asked me if I was fine, to which I dumbly nodded. Thankfully, Cindy bought it. Without much thought she went back to whatever she was doing. And I felt Taryn’s tongue slide wetly from the tip of my cock down to my balls.

I couldn’t do anything; my desk held me captive. Taryn, the topless teenager, had me completely me at her mercy. I felt her tongue bathing me with spit, caressing my balls in a wet massage. It was slow and sensual, as she traced and rolled each one in and out of her mouth. My cock, which had softened from fear, was now gaining a new confidence, life, and vitality. I was turgid with arousal, as she gently nursed on my shaft. This was a very different kind of blowjob. With Jessica, Shannon, Jen, and the Mystery Woman it had been all about the push to orgasm, a semi-violent skull fucking of a bestial nature. Taryn’s cocksucking technique was slow and methodical. She found every ounce of pleasure possible, and coaxed it – slowly, gently, and insistently – out of my engorged genitals. Time drew out, beyond all previous limits. For Taryn, it was all in the details, nothing needed to be rushed. She worked her devilish magic, and Cindy sat there, at her desk, unaware through it all.

I needed to cum. I could feel it building in my groin, but I was powerless to anything but let it flow. Cindy casually looked at me and said, “Do you wanna go out this weekend? Maybe grab a few drinks?”

I couldn’t think. Drinks, what were drinks? Think. Focus! - and not on the blowjob. “Ummm, yeah. Sure. That would be great,” I croaked. Cindy looked at me and curiously raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me, I think I’m coming down with something.”

Whatever, Cindy seemed to buy my lies. She turned away to stuff papers into her bag. I took full and deliberate advantage of this respite from her gaze to unload my dick. The relief was indescribable. White, viscous cum shot from my dick and hit the back of Taryn’s throat. Spurt upon spurt was unleashed upon her. At first, she had no choice but to swallow. That strategy didn’t work completely, though. There was just too much cum. Taryn gagged softly and I could feel some of my chowder dribbling out of the corners of her mouth.

I looked over at Cindy to see that she was eyeing me strangely. She coughed nervously, picked up her bag, and said, “Take care. Don’t study too hard. Too much can be overwhelming. Especially when you are packing such a heavy load. We’ll have to get those drinks soon. I think we both can use then.” She then rushed out the door and practically ran down the hall.

I rolled back the chair and looked down. There was Taryn, her face aglow, smiling up from my lap. Boy was she a mess! Cum was everywhere; her face was plastered with it. Ropes of spooge dangled from her forehead and chin. She looked at me and grinned naughtily, “Gee professor, that was hot. I loved it when you shot your spunk down my throat and all over your face. I felt like such a total cum slut. A dirty fuckin’ girl.”

I grinned wickedly, “You are Taryn. You’re a filthy, teen slut with a taste for strange cock. And that is a good thing.”

“I know, professor. I’m fine with it. We’re cool. But now the real question is, wanna fuck?”