Must Be Something Wrong with Me

"Yes, yes, well, uh, yes," he replied, feeling very uncomfortable with this degree of contact, particularly as he was still sporting a rather taut erection. He brought his hands from his lap, risking its exposure, to gently and politely, but firmly, push her away. "But, dear, that does still leave the problem of yourself. You do have to answer for your indiscretion. Actually, I must say it was much, much worse than simply an indiscretion, don't you think?"

Emily stepped back and, once again, clasped her hands together, her head bowed contritely. "Oh yes sir, that was a most terrible thing I did. I know sir, I really know," and this was frankly said with some degree of sincerity. She was troubled over her many indiscretions. And, goodness, the one act with Joseph paled in comparison to some of her other oral stunts. "I really do think I might have a problem, sir."

"A problem?"

"Yes sir."

"I don't understand."

"It's kind of difficult to explain, Mr. Gould."

"Well, honey, I don't mean to have you feeling uncomfortable, but if you don't provide an explanation, then I have no choice but to have you referred to the disciplinary board."

Emily knew that she would indeed be in serious trouble if she was referred to Mr. Harrington and the Student Disciplinary Board. She seriously doubted that she could sway Mr. Harrington. However, it was never her intention not to explain herself to Mr. Gould. "Can I at least whisper it again, in your ear?"

"There's really nobody here that will hear you, Emily, other than me."

"I know sir, but to say it out loud is so difficult for me."

Mr. Gould sighed. Her previous whispering had been a bit problematic. However, he could see that she was quite sincere in her discomfort. "Alright then, if you wish."

She replied, "Thank you, sir," and then, once again, leaned back into him, cupped her hands, and whispered into his ear, ever so softly, "It's penises, Mr. Gould."

"Excuse me?"

She continued to whisper. "Penises, Mr. Gould, I love them so much. I just can't help myself. I have to see them, feel them." And, even more softly, "Kiss them." She paused for a moment, letting her breath tickle his ear, and then pulled back.

Mr. Gould could feel the sweat forming on his brow as his mouth went dry. "Emily, I really can't believe that you're unable to control yourself."

"But it is really very difficult, Mr. Gould. Whenever I meet a guy I start to think, to wonder, what his penis might look like. You know, they're all so very different, particularly when they get stiff and hard and everything. Of course, you might not know that, being a man and everything."

"Yes, well, of course, there are many anatomical variations." He was finding this conversation rather uncomfortable.

"Of course sir, I didn't meant to imply that you wouldn't know. Of course you would know, being a biologist and everything. You've probably seen many, many different penises."

"Well, not really, it's not actually, uh, my specialty." He wasn't really sure it would be anyone's.

"Oh my, goodness, I just had a wonderful idea, Mr. Gould! Maybe I could do an independent study, under you of course, about how penises come in all different sizes and shapes. I mean, if you sponsored me I'm sure we could get lots and lots of penises, and we could even compare their stuff, you know, their, their, their ejaculate stuff, like with a microscope and things."

"Well, dear, I don't think."

"I like them best that way, all terribly hard and stiff. I think that's when they have the most personality. I would think that you, more than anyone, would understand."

"Yes, well, um, you are certainly free to pursue your own hobbies, um, studies, outside of class." He really didn't think it would be a good idea but, of course, he wouldn't want to discourage the young lady's scientific curiosity. He then realized though they were getting off track. "But, still, you do clearly appreciate how inappropriate it was to do it in the class."

"Oh absolutely, sir."

"I mean, I don't go around dissecting every frog I see, and you really shouldn't try to see every, um." It was kind of difficult for him to say the word out loud. After all, she was a very fetching young lady, standing there in her college uniform, her innocent white blouse, black tie, plaid skirt, white socks, and Mary Janes, smiling so sweetly as she swung her hips back and forth. He lowered his voice to a whisper, now appreciating her own concern about speaking out loud, "penis, um, yes, penis, that you come across."

"I know, sir. I do know that, but sometimes I just can't help myself. Like, well, you know, I would kind of like to see yours, if you wouldn't mind, sir."

"Mine?!" Mr. Gould's eyes widened with shock.

Emily voice was very quiet and cautious. "Well, yes sir. I mean, after all, you do have an erection yourself. I could see it when I was whispering in your ear."

Mr. Gould tightened the crossing of his legs and dug his hands down deeper into his lap, into his stiffness. He would obviously like for it to go down, and covering it snugly with his hands wasn't really helping. "Now, that's not in fact the case, young lady. I suspect you were confused by something else. Yes, a pen, a pen in my pocket."

"Mr. Gould, what I saw was much thicker than a pen."

"Well, yes, um, in any case, you were, of course, obviously mistaken. I would not let, do, such a thing in the presence of an undergraduate."

"Who isn't being honest now, Mr. Gould?"

Mr. Gould was feeling a bit hoisted on his own petard, which was still sticking up in his slacks. He knew that he would get nowhere with this young lady as long as she knew he was being dishonest with her. You can't command respect and compliance if it is clear that you are yourself being duplicitous and dissembling. With considerable reluctance, Mr. Gould confessed. "Yes, alright, yes my dear. I am sorry, but I did, for the moment, lose control of myself there."

"I understand, Professor Gould. Sometimes it really isn't easy controlling yourself, is it, sir." He could see that she was painting him into a corner. In any case, he knew that it was terribly inappropriate of him to have gotten an erection and, even worse, to have let her see it. Here he was, trying to discipline a student for being sexually inappropriate in the class, and then he displays to her his own erection.

"Well, I do certainly apologize, Emily. It was really most inappropriate of me."

Emily stepped up to him, her knees touching his thighs. "Don't worry, sir, I won't tell anyone."

Mr. Gould could sense that he was losing ground here, losing control not only of himself but of the situation. Yet, it was quite true that he definitely wouldn't want anyone else to know that he had gotten an erection with a student and, worse yet, that she had seen it. "Yes, well, I suppose it's best for everyone if we just put this afternoon behind us, move on from here, and be now especially careful that nothing like this happens again. Would you not agree, Emily?"

"Oh but sir, you haven't really let me see it yet."

"Emily, I am certainly not going to do that. We have both made our share of mistakes here." He would consider hers to be far worse than his, but perhaps in the eyes of the Board of Trustees, his might in fact be much worse, for as a professor he would be held to a much higher standard. "Let's not compound the situation."

Emily though just reached down, grasped the front of her skirt, and raised it up to show Mr. Gould her pretty panties, and they were very pretty indeed. They were pink cotton panties with lace trim, and prancing all over the pink cotton were little dancing bears. If that wasn't enough, her panties were tight enough to display a very clear, very pronounced, camel toe. Mr. Gould's erection had finally been slackening, with all the thoughts of the inappropriateness of the situation and his getting into a very embarrassing and problematic predicament. However, his dick now sprang back to life at the sight of the young girl's panties and the delicious outline of her slit. It looked to be a very cute, small little pouch. "Emily, please, pull your skirt back down right this instant!"

He said it with considerable conviction, sincerity, and authority, but she didn't obey. She instead just slowly, gently swung her hips back and forth, keeping her skirt raised and panties exposed, and said, "But, professor, don't you like my panties?"

He clearly did, as he could not take his eyes off them, although he did briefly do so, checking that the door to his classroom was indeed shut. However, he did not express how much he liked them. "They are very nice panties, Emily but, really, this is most inappropriate and someone may come in. Now, please, pull your skirt back down."

"I'll pull them down if you take out your penis, Mr. Gould."

"Emily, that's absurd and you know it! I don't want to, and will not, do anything inappropriate with you. I want to be very clear about that."

"I'm not asking you to do anything with me, Mr. Gould. Just let me see him, just at least for a second? I'm showing you my personal spot. It's only fair now that you show me yours." She pulled her skirt back tight all the way up so she could see herself and, while keeping it firmly pressed against her with her left hand she brought the fingers of her right hand to the little pouch of pink panty that rose out from between her thighs. "See, Mr. Gould, you can even see my little pussy lips through my panties." She looked back up at him as she lightly caressed her lips through her panties.

His face was now a deep red, both with excitement and embarrassment. He could feel as well the blood flowing into his balls, a surge of energy, of interest, of lustful preparation. He really wasn't sure what he should do, or could do. Of course, what he should do would be to just take her by the arm and escort her from the class, but he wasn't too sure he was in a position to risk her becoming angry and filing a complaint. The complaint of a young female student would always carry more weight than that of a male faculty member, particularly if he was honest about having gotten an erection. "Yes, yes, I do see that but, really, Emily, you really shouldn't be doing this."

"Is he getting all hard and everything, Mr. Gould, looking at my panties?"

There was no way he was going to answer that. Actually, there was one way to answer, without having to say anything. He realized that the best way, perhaps the safest way, to get out of this situation was to do what she wanted. When you're being threatened it's sometimes best not to fight. Just let her have what she wants and end this affair before it got out of hand. He uncrossed his legs and pulled away his hands, resting them on the arms of the chair, displaying to her, for her, a very obvious, prominent protrusion within his slacks.

"Oh, Mr. Gould, he is excited, isn't he!"

He didn't know how long she wanted to look at him, but he had to admit that a very significant part of him was enjoying this, enjoying the fact that this very pretty young lady, younger than his own daughter, holding up her plaid skirt to show him her pink camel toe, was herself enjoying the sight of the erection within his slacks. He hadn't experienced anything like this for quite some time, perhaps nothing since he was in fact younger than Emily.

Emily let go of her skirt. Mr. Gould felt both relieved and disappointed. "Excellent, well, let's now call this a day, and we will speak no more of it."

But, Emily then bent forward, her lovely, flushed face moving toward his erection. He couldn't help but think that she might be actually leaning down to kiss him, to kiss him there. He quickly covered himself up again, protecting his penis from this very naughty girl.

Emily kept her eyes fixed on his confused, nervous, excited eyes; her eyes expressing a yearning desire, a lust, for his cock. She softly, slowly ran her tongue along her lips.

And, while she was doing so, while his eyes were firmly fixed on hers, she reached back under her skirt, grasped the hem of her panties, and pulled them down past her bottom cheeks, down to her thighs, albeit still under her skirt. She then stood back up.

Mr. Gould breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that she had only been just teasing him into thinking that she was actually going to kiss him, down there. However, with the relief also came a brief moment of disappointment. His ex-wife would never do that for him, had never done that for him. She considered it disgusting. Imagine having it done now by a pretty girl, one who was less than half his age! But, that was rather unrealistic. It was a nice fantasy, but just a fantasy. When he thought about it, Emily was perhaps demonstrating more control than him, as he probably would have let her go through with it. He misunderstood why she bent over like that and he hadn't tried to stop her. He was perhaps the one with the wicked, perverse fantasies. Thank goodness this girl was demonstrating the good judgment that he apparently had lost, at least for a moment.

Emily again reached down for the hem of her skirt, and once again pulled it up, this time revealing that her panties were now bunched up around her thighs and, more importantly, revealing to the professor's eyes the most deliciously sweet cunnie he had ever seen. "Oh my gosh," he quietly exclaimed, unable to restrain from acknowledging the pure delight of the vision. Emily had the most winsome cunnie one could imagine. It was a preciously pretty pussy, just a tiny little white pouch split by a tender, enchanting slit of pure delight, covered by only the most gossamer down of wispy peach fuzz. His cock was yearning, straining to escape his slacks to attack this rapturous crevice.

His eyes again went to the classroom door, but only for the most briefest of moments. His eyes really, really didn't want to look away from the treat that displayed herself before them.

"Do you think it's pretty, Mr. Gould?"

He responded quietly, but very honestly. "It's wonderful, Emily." Pretty much all resistance was now gone. He was now governed by the vision of her cunnie, by the cunnie itself. He would do anything it requested, anything it commanded.

A triumphant grin graced her other lips. "Can I see yours?"

It was only fair. His heart was pounding, sweat was dripping down beneath his arms. "Lock the door, Emily," he suggested.

"Anything you say, Professor Gould." She turned around, and raised the skirt behind her, offering him the sight of her adorably pert behind. Mr. Gould was not a butt man, but he could appreciate the sight of a youthful, taut, firm white fanny, split as well by yet another scrumptious, mouth-watering crack.

Emily slowly walked to the door, wagging her bottom as she went. Her steps were somewhat constrained by her panties, wrapped around her thighs, but she exaggerated the constriction, walking like a well-trained geisha. It was such a captivating spectacle.

As she made her way to the door, Mr. Gould removed his cock from his slacks. By the time she had locked the door and turned around, his hard cock was out and fully displayed, poking out through his fly like a jack-in-the-box.

"Oh my, Mr. Gould," Emily exclaimed. "I kind of thought a professor would be big, but I didn't imagine this big."

Mr. Gould grinned. No woman had ever referred to him as being big before. He kind of doubted that he was, but he really wouldn't know. Perhaps he was? It sure appeared that Emily was pretty darn experienced in matters such as this. She was probably speaking with some authority.

It seemed to swell even further as she made her way back, holding up now the front of her skirt as she approached. He could never imagine meeting a girl so tantalizing, so fetching, so enchanting. Her little split peach cunnie slowly approached. He reached for his cock, grasping hold. He wondered if he could convince her to masturbate together. That would perhaps be a bit obscene, but his balls were aching for relief.

"Now, now, Mr. Gould, that's my responsibility. You sit back and let Emily take care of your big, manly cock."

Even in his current state of mind, his state of arousal, he knew that this would be wrong, very terribly wrong. "Emily, we can't have sex, we just can't." It was frankly remarkable to even be saying that. He would never have imagined, at his age, that he would be saying no to a pretty girl half his age, while she was standing there, holding up her skirt.

"Mr. Gould, don't be silly. We're not going to have sex. I know that wouldn't be right and, besides, I don't think I could take a big penis like that." She knew full well she could, but she wasn't actually interested in taking him that way. She preferred using her hands and mouth on a guy. That was how she liked to do it. It was the way that provided her with the greatest intimacy with his cock. She wanted to see it up close, feel it up close, and taste it up close.

Mr. Gould wasn't sure he was in fact relieved to hear that they wouldn't have sex, although he knew that tomorrow he would probably feel relieved. In fact, he wondered if tomorrow he would feel guilty, feel worried, no matter what they did, no matter how little it was. "I'm not so sure, Emily, that we really should be doing anything at all. We should perhaps stop before things get out of hand," as if they already hadn't.

Emily had thought that she had him entirely under her control, but it was clear that at the threshold of victory, he was hesitating, wavering, losing his nerve. She offered, "I will make a deal with you, Mr. Gould."

He wasn't too sure that he liked the sound of that. He realized that he was not really in a negotiating position, as he would be the one to suffer the most severe loss and punishment if their little 'show and tell' became public. What defense does a professor have when he has his cock sticking out of his pants? He asked, apprehensively, "What kind of deal?"

"If you let me play with your thing, I won't ever do it again with anyone in the class."

That was the deal? He was certainly expecting a lot worse than that. At best he figured she would demand an A grade (although he would now give it to her anyway; how could you not give a girl an A in biology after she shows you her delightfully pretty cunnie?). Frankly, this was a rather sweet deal for him, and, truth be told, it would help to control her behavior in class. Perhaps it would be the best thing, the only thing, to help her maintain proper decorum. "Yes, yes, you have a deal."

"But, if sometime I feel the urge, you know, with another boy during the class, you have to promise to let me use your thing instead, like after class."

Like any good car salesman, he pretended that he felt very reluctant to accept the clause, as if it was a major sacrifice on his part, when in fact it was a very satisfying addition to the contract. "Well, I suppose I can accept that, if you feel it's absolutely necessary."

Emily let go of her skirt and dropped down to her knees, in between the knees of the professor, and reached up to grasp hold of his stiff dick.

Emily found that most cocks looked big, or at least bigger, when kneeling down beneath them, looking up at them as they towered over your face, your eyes. She really liked looking at them this way. She turned it all sorts of different ways, admiring its girth, its strength, its manliness. "I really like men's penises best, Mr. Gould."

"Excuse me?"

"He looks so much bigger, so much more manly, than the students' penises I date. I mean, well, of course, they're men too. They're like at least 18 and everything, but they seem like boys to me, compared to such a manly cock like yours. It's almost like they're still growing or something." Clearly they were not. Professor Gould didn't really have to explain that to her. It was probably the context of the experience, the fact that the students' penises were cocks on men with little power, little status, little responsibility, experience or age. They were cocks still playing with their toys, still horsing around like kids. The cock before her was that of a real man, a man of considerable authority and power.