Academic Pursuits

She wrapped her arms around me, lay down on my shoulder and simply let her hips do all the work, as she gave me a ride I wouldn't soon forget. Her slick vagina seemed to be bubbling as she slid up and down on my rock-hard cock. I grunted and moaned as bolts of erotic electricity surged through me. She once again engulfed my mouth with hers, and our tongues darted back and forth, engaged in a primal dance of pure, unadulterated carnality. We could not separate our guttural utterances, as we both seemed to be trapped in the same plane of pleasure. I suddenly felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on my manhood, and her whole body shook as she screamed out her lust-cry to the world. She waved her head and her sweat flew off her in every direction. I could see the ecstasy on her face as she lowered herself to me, flicked her tongue in and out of my left ear, and bounced her pelvis on my cock with renewed vigor.

"OOOOHHHH, GAAAAHHHHHD MIIIIIKKKKEEEE IIIIII WAAAANNNNAAA MAAAAAAKKKKE YOOOOOUU COOOOOOOMMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!" she bellowed as she sucked desperately on my manhood with her soaking, dripping love tunnel. I felt the tickling begin in my lower region, felt the pressure boil up into a full-blown detonation, then bucked my hips and grabbed her around the waist as I felt one, two, four, six... too many shots to count, as I injected one blast of cum after another into her. My wordless exclamations – "YAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! YAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!" – were soon silenced by her tongue shooting into my screaming mouth. As I slowed down and she pulled away for a moment, I looked at Karla and saw, mixed in with her and my perspiration, tears streaking down her face.

"Why are you crying, Karla?" I reached up to wipe the tears away.

"Because that is by far thebestsex – certainly the most intense orgasm – I haveeverhad. Oh, my GOD, you are absolutely amazing!!" She looked down at me, still crying, but with an enormous, contented smile on her face.

I was still trying to catch my breath, and I said, "I can only say I'm amazing because of who my partner is." I brushed some long hair out of her face. "It's getting late. Would you like to order some dinner?"

She answered, "I think we just skipped right to dessert. Did you have any plans for tonight?"

How was I supposed to respond to a question like that, when the person who asked it was still sitting on my dick, which was still throbbing inside of her?

I looked at her, massaged her ample breasts for a moment, and finally said "Let me go to the bathroom, then call my parents to tell them I'm going to be out tonight. Did I have plans? I guess I do now."

The whole time I was on the phone with my mother – around five minutes or so – Karla had her mouth wrapped around my cock and was trying to suck me back into readiness.

We never quite got back to our day's research. We made love twice more that night.

I awoke the next morning, as if from a long, amazing dream, to find my intellectualsenseilying in my arms, disheveled, naked, and with the most peaceful, gratified expression that I had ever seen.

After I showered and put my clothes back on, I came back into the living room to collect my laptop and say my goodbyes. I saw an envelope on top of my laptop. I opened it and counted out the cash inside it as Karla watched me with a longing gaze. I pocketed $20 and handed the rest back to her.

"But Mike, we agreed on ten dollars an hour. You've been here since one o'clock yesterday afternoon. That's $200 there."

"That's kind of insulting," I answered. "As far as I'm concerned, the clock stopped running the moment we kissed each other. I wasn't sure I should have done that, but now I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I made love to you because I wanted to – because webothwanted to. If you're paying me for the time we spent having sex, then that makes me a gigolo. I'd like to think we mean something more to each other thanthat."

Karla rushed towards me, threw her arms around me and kissed me all over my face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm SO sorry, please don't be mad at me!!!!" she said in a headlong torrent. "I wasn't thinking and I didn't mean it and I don't want you to hate me and, God help me, I don't want you to go and I know you have to, but I want to make sure that nothing changes between us!!!"

"Whether we like it or not, Karla,everything'schanged."

She began to cry. "You don't want to be my research assistant anymore?"

I smiled at her. "Only if you don't want to be my 'professor-with-benefits', or whatever the hell you want to call it."

She almost collapsed with relief.

"Mike, I want you to understand that in a million years, I never eventhoughtthat we would have anything but a professional relationship. But I also want you to know that whatever winds up happening this summer, I know I won't regret one second of it. Please tell me you feel the same way."

I held her face in my hands and kissed her gently on the lips. "I knew I would be happy working under you!!" We both laughed at my very obviousdouble-entendre.

As God is my witness, it took every bit of strength I had to walk out her door that morning.

I wouldn't say we had sexeverytime I went over to Karla's house after that. Just most times. Sometimes twice or three times. She seemed to be as insatiable as I was. I learned after a couple of weeks that I should pack some extra clothes in a knapsack on Thursdays, as (I would be telling my parents) I would be staying over at Karla's for late-night research sessions. My folks were no dummies. They knew exactly what was going on, as I'd described Professor Dietz to them when I first took her class and pronounced her a "mega-hottie." There were no rules at the college about professors fraternizing with over-21 students (as long as the student wasn't taking the particular professor's class), so we weren't doing anything illegal. We even actually found time to research the articles.

One Tuesday, Karla called me in the morning and told me she was cancelling our research session for the day. However, "I'd like you to come over to my place around 5:30, and dressed nicely. Do you have a decent sport jacket and slacks?"

"Of course. What's up?"

"There's a function of the English department at the college tonight. I've been asked to give a two-minute talk about the research we've been doing. Of course, there'scertainparts of it I'm going to edit out."

"Of course."

"I'd like you to come as my research assistant, and as my date. It'll be boring as all hell, but you'll get a nice meal out of it. Bring your backpack, and your laptop. I promise I'll make it worth your while when it's over. We can get started with our research bright and early tomorrow."

Promptly at 5:30, I was in front of her apartment door. I knocked twice. The sight that greeted me as the door opened stunned me almost as much as when Karla had first stripped in front of me.

Karla was dressed in a strapless navy-blue sheath dress, zippered down the front. The whole thing looked as if it had been painted on her. A generous amount of cleavage showed above the zipper. The dress showed an equally generous amount of leg, ending barely six inches below the crotch. Her hair had been done up, pinned back and piled atop her head in a wave. She was perched atop five-inch platform pumps. Her makeup was impeccable. Her ruby-red lips were inviting and kissable. She looked less like a teacher and more like a fashion model.

I nearly dropped the single red rose I had brought for her.

I developed a raging hard-on within microseconds.

She came up close to me, breathed hotly into my ear and cooed softly "I'm covering this with a white shawl at the dinner. It may be a little too hard-core for the stuffed shirts of the college. But I want you to know that I wore this specifically for you, and that I fully expect you to rip this off me the second we get back here."

Hearing that, of course, did nothing to help my erection.

It was our misfortune to be seated at a table with Professor Hamm, the resident poetry "expert". I put that in quotes because he had recently been named Poet Laureate of the United States and had read some of his poems for Congress and at the White House. This title made the man even more insufferably arrogant than he already was. I personally found his poetry to be sappy, sugary drivel. I had taken a couple of his classes, getting the only two B's I ever got in my English classes. I'd had to fight hard for one of them, which I'll explain later.

Anyway, as we sat down, Hamm couldn't resist one of his snide comments. "Robbing the cradle, huh, Dietz? And that dress – don't you think that's a little excessive for a department dinner?"

Karla's look darkened as she responded. "Mike's here as my research assistant. He's been doing a marvelous job. I wouldn't be able to complete this article without his help. In fact, I'm putting his name on it as a co-author. What do you think ofthat?"

I couldn't help but add "What's the problem, Professor? Jealous that Karla's sitting next tomeinstead of you?"

Hamm ignored me and snorted (yes, I know – ironic name, equally ironic action), "I hope his research skills are better than his poetry!"

I wasn't going to takethatlittle jab lying down.

I proceeded to tell the story of my first class with him – how he'd consistently given me low grades on my poetry, which usually consisted of song structures: verse, verse, chorus, bridge, verse, chorus or variations of that. He wanted my poetry to not always rhyme, not always span common meter – in other words, to write likehim. I tried to reason with him, saying "I don't want to write like you, I want to write likeme. Isn't poetry supposed to be anindividualexpression?" He didn't buy it.

So one day, for an in-class reading I picked a slightly obscure Rolling Stones song – "You Got The Silver" or "Memory Motel", I can't remember which – changed the title and put my name on it. The whole class, which was in on the gag, watched him as I quickly read through "my" poem. His review was "So you want to be a songwriter, huh? Who do you think would buythatchunk of crap?"

I smiled as the class tittered. "Five million Rolling Stones fans can't be wrong, sir."

He suddenly realized he'd been had. His face reddened as the class broke up laughing at his gaffe.

"Now, sir," I said politely, "we're going to meet in your office after class today, and we're going to discuss how my grades are going to be adjusted sharply upwards, and how in the future you're going to judge my poetry on its own merits rather than against your personal standards. That is, of course, unless you want me to go to the department head and tell him how you gave Mick Jagger and Keith Richards a C minus."

Professor Hamm's face reddened again as I recounted the story. Needless to say, he didn't like having his foibles exposed in front of his colleagues. He mumbled some excuse, then bumped off towards the buffet.

Karla leaned in, her eyes bright and wet from tears of laughter, and whispered, "I LOVED how you deflated that pompous asshole's balloon! He thinks he'ssuchhot shit!!!"

Then, when she was pretty sure nobody was looking, she stuck her tongue in my ear and whispered, "I am SO fucking hot for you right now!"

As the evening went on, several professors gave reports about the research they were in the midst of. Karla got up and gave her speech, introducing me as her assistant and briefly outlining the work we had done together. I'm so glad she didn't ask me to get up with her, as I'd had to spend much of the evening with a napkin in my lap and an uncomfortable tightness in my pants. Karla would occasionally rub a silken calf against my leg, which didn't help matters too much. After my conversation with Professor Hamm, I didn't say too much except in response to questions. At one point, when people got up to dance to some soft jazz music, Karla announced for the table's benefit, "I need something in my office upstairs. Mike, would you please come with me?" I popped up, quickly turning my back on the people seated at our table so that they couldn't see my stiffness sticking out, and walked out arm-in-arm with Karla.

We got to her office – it was hardly bigger than a cubicle – where she quickly locked the door and pulled down the shades.

"So what do you need here, Karla?"

She quickly unzipped her dress and let it fall on the floor. As she stepped around me, she wriggled out of her thong underwear, sat herself on top of her desk and opened her legs wide. She purred at me, "As if you don't know what I need!!! OHHHH, those old men of the department are so fucking DULL!!!" She rubbed her labia furiously and said, "What I NEED is your COCK... in HERE... RIGHT NOW!!!!"

I struggled out of my jacket and shirt, and moved towards her. "I want YOU to open my pants, Karla!" I said as I positioned myself in front of her, between her legs. Even though I was only a few inches away from her smoking love hole and could easily have done it myself, I wanted to tease her and work her into a frenzy. She made a face, but played along with my little game. She leaned forward, fumbled with my belt and button, and watched my pants fall to the ground with a satisfied smile. She saw my erection, with a tiny drop of pre-cum showing through my briefs, massaged it gently and then dropped my underwear to my knees. She then grabbed me around the waist and pulled me forward, driving my cock into her frothing pussy in one quick motion.

"Now TAKE me, Mike!! SLAM that pussy as I know only you can!!!"

I drove my mouth onto one of her hardened nipples, sucking furiously as I repeatedly jammed my cock into her up to the hilt. She moaned and thrashed as I feverishly fucked her, holding me around the neck or waist or sometimes clawing at my back with her long nails.

"Sit down in my chair, baby! I want to ride you!"

The sight of her lithe body sliding up and down on my cock as I sat in the leather office chair was absolutely enchanting. Karla reached up and undid the bobby pins, letting her thick, luxurious brown tresses cascade down her shoulders and back. As I continued sucking on her tits and letting her ride me, I ran my hands through her smooth hair. I then held her tightly around the waist and sucked harder on her nipple as I heard her breathing more deeply and more quickly. Just as she was about to come, she leaned forward and jammed her tongue so far into my mouth I thought I would choke. She shuddered and screamed her orgasm down my throat, then bucked faster and faster as she held me close. I felt my own rush building, and she must have sensed it too, as she clamped her hand over my mouth to prevent me screaming out. I felt the heavenly, hot explosion in my loins and cried "Mmpf!! Mmpf!! Mmpf!!" into Karla's hand as I poured shot after shot of scalding cum into her. We held each other in place for about ten minutes.

Karla whispered into my ear "That's just previews, Mike. The main event is when we get home!" We kissed deeply, then straightened ourselves up as best we could and went back down to the dinner party. Strangely, very few people noticed we'd been gone. We stayed for another fifteen minutes, then said our goodbyes and left.

In the car on the way home, every time we were stopped at a light Karla would stroke my crotch. "You still hard for me, baby? I told you that was just for openers. Just so you know, you'd better be ready, because I don't plan to be wearing this dress for more than two minutes after we lock the door."

I said to her, "But you look SO hot in it! CanItake it off you when we get home?"

"Mmmmm, that sounds so HOT!!!"

"Drive slower, then. I know we're only a few blocks away. Drive around the building a couple of times. Anticipation is half the fun."

She rolled her head around and said, "OOOOHHHHH, you're going to drive me fucking CRAZY!!!!!"

"I know. And then when you're good and ready, I'm absolutely going to bang the SHIT out of you!!!"

"I'm not even touching myself, Mike – I've got both hands on the steering wheel – and I feel like I'm going to come right here and now!!!" She pulled over, parked, rubbed her thighs together for a few seconds and then put her head back and BAYED. I mean, like a werewolf at the moon. The woman absolutely HOWLED.

"If you'd been driving, Mike, I'd probably have been masturbating this whole time. I might have even given you a blowjob at the red lights."

"And gotten us both killed in the process, Karla. There's your house. Like I said, drive around the block a couple of times."

But she didn't. She pulled straight into her garage, pulled me out of her car and hustled us into the elevator. She pushed me against the wall of the elevator and crushed herself against me, giving me yet another of her deep, tongue-filled kisses. The elevator scene fromFatal Attractionpopped into my head for a moment, but the door opened on her floor before she could even think of taking my pants off. Entangled in a kiss and our smoldering passion, we managed to wrestle each other towards her apartment door. Unable to concentrate, she fumbled with her keys, managed to get the door open, shoved me inside and threw both locks.

"Now you belong to me, and me alone, for the rest of this night. I already know what you've got. I want to see what else you CAN do!!!"

I started by very slowly, deliberately removing my jacket and shirt. I walked up to her, softly kissed her on her lips, and dropped the zipper on her dress only an inch or two.

She leaned against the front door, breathing quickly, almost beside herself in the fury of her lust.

"Mike, will you fucking HURRY UP!!!! Do you have ANY idea how nuts you're making me?"

Actually, I knew EXACTLY what I was doing. I backed away from her, turned my back, undid my belt, button and zipper, shook a little bit, and let my pants drop to the floor.

"Oh, GAAAAAAHHHHHDDD, don't DOOOO this to me!!!!"

I stepped out of my shoes, removed my pants, and walked up to Karla again. She was absolutely trembling.

I slowly unzipped her dress the rest of the way. It too fell to the floor. Clad only in a thong, I traced the curve of her breast with my finger, leaned down and sucked hard on her nipple for a long minute. She could feel my rock-solid erection through my briefs, poking against her leg.

"STOP it!!!STOPIT!! I'm going to fucking RAPE you in a second if you don't stop!!!"

I reached down between her legs, pushed aside the thong and poked a finger into her sopping tunnel.

"THAT'S IT!!! NOW YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING GET IT!!!!!"

She pushed me back onto the bed, pulled off my briefs, tore off her thong (which was soaked through both with her natural lubrication and the remnants of my deposit earlier that evening) and used it to jerk me off for a minute or so. She screamed "THERE, DO YOU FUCKINGLIKETHAT?!?!? YOU WANT TO FUCKING TEASE ME, AND MAKE ME GO CRAZY!!!! NOW CUT THE BULLSHIT AND FUCK ME 'TIL I SCREAM!!!" She slammed her pelvis against mine, capturing my cock in her hot, velvety prison, and jackhammered up and down on me like she was trying to pulverize me into the mattress.

Of course, I loved every second of it. There's nothing like a beautiful woman, so insane with lust that she's ready to jump out of her skin, riding your cock hard. It makes you glad you're a man.

It took her only a few minutes of this to start howling again, her juices fairly pouring out of her and coating my manhood with her lust. She didn't let up on me for one second. Just a few minutes later, I yelled out and shot a load that felt the size of a watermelon. She rode me hard for another minute or so, milking me for every drop I could pump into her. When she finally collapsed on my shoulder, exhausted, we both could do nothing but lay in the dark, our breath coming in raspy gasps, our sweat intermingling along with our other bodily secretions.