An “A” Student

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It was his first day of his second semester teaching the night class at the law school. The first semester had gone well, though the evening classes after a tough day at work were exhausting by the end of the two plus hour session. However, he felt like the students got a lot out of the class, and he was over his first semester fears that he had information and experience of questionable value to them; to the contrary, he realized that he had vastly superior knowledge than these bright but inexperienced young people.

Young people. He always wondered what it would be like to teach a group of young adults; would they idolize him, and the attractive young women find him a fascinating and good-looking if somewhat older man? He knew that was a middle-aged man’s fantasy. He had been divorced for a few years, and while he had had a few relationships sporadically, nothing had kept his interest for very long. In the first semester the young people seemed to be engaged in what he had to teach, but not that interested in him as a person. He had forgotten how self-absorbed college students are, even students in a professional school. The couple of somewhat attractive girls were nice enough but clearly dismissed him (rightly so) as a guy old enough to be their father.

On this evening, his new class once again was populated with young faces clearly anxious not to appear too eager, lest they be considered “gunners” by their fellow students, trying to ingratiate themselves with the teacher on the first day. All of the class feigned indifference, that was, except one. She sat with excellent posture in her chair in the back right of the room. Her laptop was open when he came in, but unlike most of the rest of the students she soon closed it and was coolly appraising him. She had an attractive, well-shaped face with dark brown eyes and nicely proportioned lips. He was a little startled by her direct and piercing gaze, but tried to make eye contact around the room and not stare back too much. She had dark, almost black hair cascading down to her shoulders in gentle waves. He noticed in his furtive glances that she clearly was keeping herself tan, as it was mid-winter and her skin and complexion glowed. He couldn’t help but notice the skin, as she was wearing a crisp white blouse which was open several buttons, no big deal on a campus where every female student (and he was beginning to think even some of the males) showed or attempted to show cleavage. However, she wore a deep blue beaded necklace knotted below her throat with the strand hanging in such a way that it drew attention to the thrust of her breasts, which her posture exhibited to her advantage. Jesus, he thought, I have to concentrate on my outline. He looked away, determined to try not to look at her too much and not to let his imagination do as it so often did, run away with him causing the usual stiffening in his pants.

With difficulty he got his mind back on the subject and hit his stride and engaged the students in discussion once again. It was with relief that he realized it was time for the mid-class break. Most of the students filed out to make calls or get a drink, and he realized he was lingering rather than leaving to get a coke, wanting to see more of her. She languidly got to her feet and walked erectly past him, only at the last minute turning her head and noticing immediately with a half-smile on her face that he was watching her, and seeming to be inviting him to. It would have been hard for him not to; she had an incredible figure for a woman who he now realized was older than most of the students in the room. He didn’t know what it was: she could have passed for her late 20’s, but he was in no doubt that she was a more mature woman, in the best sense of the word, maybe 35 or even 40. She clearly radiated more experience in every respect than the younger women in the room, which he found immediately attractive.

She was wearing tight jeans that stretched taut across her well-shaped ass, he saw when he was sure she couldn’t see him examining her; though he got the distinct impression she knew he was watching and wanted him to. Her waist was very trim but not, he noted with complete approval, too thin; she possessed almost perfect womanly curves as her body tapered out from the waist and flat stomach to the delicious swell of her (C-cup, he wondered?) breasts.

He realized he needed to get going to get a drink, but also discovered this brief bit of observing had caused him to become semi-hard and didn’t want the rest of the class to see, so he sat down behind the table to get some control. He was able after a few minutes to go down the hall for a quick drink from the fountain.

Class resumed and the discussion helped keep his mind (and eyes) from being fixated on her. However, she made some astute comments, while maintaining complete eye contact with him with her flashing dark eyes, and flashing a wonderful smile of bright even teeth that was somehow at once both warm and very, very sexy. He almost had to physically shake his head to dispel the fantasy thoughts ikitelli escort beginning to form even as the class discussed the legal points from the casebook. Toward the end of the class, as everyone including him was getting worn out and the discussion was flagging, he glanced her way and noticed she was looking directly at him, while slowly raising and lowering her necklace (when had it become unknotted?) between her breasts, dipping the end of it into her blouse. He would have thought this an absent minded gesture, except for the frank gaze she was directing his way. He stammered and decided rather abruptly to let the class go a few minutes early and to call it a night. He didn’t know whether he was relived or disappointed when she left without a word or glance his way; however, he did notice that before she left she put on her light jacket in such a way that her breasts strained against the crisp fabric of her blouse, clearly showing hard, erect nipples. Hmm, he was looking forward to the next week’s class even more than usual.

The next week he tried in vain to remain detached and focused solely on the legal issues being discussed and presented. As often happened with law students who may have had interviews, he noticed she was dressed in a smart suit with a skirt and a form-fitting jacket, apparently without a blouse. The skirt was simple but, he noticed, tight and short enough that when she sat he could see a good part of her toned thighs. He had noticed her immediately as she walked in just before the class started—the young men (and women?) were watching her while trying to pretend they weren’t. She had well-muscled but very shapely calves set off well by the dress heels she had on. The jacket was buttoned, and barely passed the test for being professional without being too revealing. He wondered if the interviewer had trouble keeping eye contact and not letting his (or her?) gaze wander. C’mon, he thought, mentally shaking himself, let’s just get on with the class.

After a bit there was a good discussion going, and he was able to sit back and observe; of course, he wanted to mainly observe her. She made quick and insightful comments but unlike many of the students who were pretty full of themselves she didn’t seem to need the spotlight. As he watched, she slowly unbuttoned her jacket. He was startled, until he realized she had a tight lacy black camisole on which hugged her curves. Did she notice him watching? Just as he had that thought, she slowly uncrossed her legs and before crossing them again, spread he knees ever so slightly and gave a glimpse under the skirt of what appeared to be tiny black panties. He had trouble concentrating for a minute and realized one of the students asked him a question. He stammered out an answer, and noticed she smiled slightly at his obvious discomfort.

When class was over, he packed up and shut down the power point, determined not to be caught watching her. The class filed out quickly, but when he had unplugged his flash drive from the computer and stood up, he saw she was still sitting there, watching him. He looked around and saw the rest of the class was gone. He looked at her and asked “Um, do you have a question or need help with something?” God, he sounded lame even to himself.

“Yes, I wanted to ask you what I could do to make sure I do well in this class. I am willing to do anything, including extra credit activities, if that will help my grade. ” She emphasized “anything”; or was that his fevered imagination based on his fantasies? His doubt was dispelled by her next words. “I would be happy to meet with you outside of class for personal discussions; we could meet at my apartment.”

Before he could respond, she stood up, buttoned up her suit jacket against the strain of her firm breasts in the black lacy top, gathered her computer and shoulder bag and walked toward the door. “Send me an e-mail to let me know when you will be able to come,” she said looking directly at him. She smiled knowingly and with a swing of her shapely hips strolled out. He wondered, was the double entendre intentional? He’d be “able to come” in about 30 seconds if he thought about her and what he hoped in his fantasies she really meant.

That night he couldn’t get to sleep, deliciously tortured by her words and his erotic thoughts of her. He finally decided the best thing to do was to take matters into his own hands, and he went to the bathroom and took care of business in record time, with visions playing in his head of her greeting him at her apartment door clad in a diaphanous baby doll top and matching g-string. He didn’t have to let his imagination get much past that before he was finished, with a shuddering explosion captured in an old sock, a trick he learned from reading a book in high school. He waited till the throbbing subsided; god, he had almost forgotten how good that felt, even if it was so quick. He threw the sodden sock away and slipped under the covers and was almost immediately asleep.

He awoke the next morning with an kadıköy escort aching hard on. Well, he thought, the release from the night before didn’t solve all his problems. For the rest of the day he wrestled with himself, and felt like he had one of those angel-on-one-shoulder-devil-on-the-other conversations with himself; go ahead and contact her; no, you shouldn’t; she wants you to, and she’s an adult; maybe she only wants help with the course; yeah, right; he could go over and just insist he was only there to assist her with her legal education; sure, and if she makes the slightest come on he’ll be putty in her hands. He finally came to a decision, like so many other times in his life when confronted with difficult problems; he wouldn’t make a decision, and wait and see how things would go at the next class.

But the next week she did not attend the class. He was a bit relieved and a lot disappointed, being deprived of the opportunity to get to appreciate (ogle would be a better word, he conceded to himself) her fine female form and beauty. He was surprised she had not contacted him to let him know she would be absent as a couple of the other students had done. The students had left, which they did with alacrity; no staying around to get to know the professor. He gathered his things and clipped his Blackberry on his belt again and noticed it was blinking, meaning e-mails had come in during the class, which was typical, as he received them all day and at all hours.

He checked to see if there was anything important and saw an e-mail he recognized as being from her. “I’m sorry I could not make class tonight, it was unavoidable. I really missed being there with you, and want you to know of my keen interest in what you have to teach me. Could you provide a private session for me? Let me know when you can come.” There it was again, did she know what she was implying? The devil side won; he decided immediately he would take her up on her suggestion. He responded that if it wouldn’t be too difficult for her to work out, he could come by after work Friday. She responded that would be great, and she would provide dinner if he would bring a bottle of wine (red) and that she was glad it wouldn’t be “too hard for him to come.” He swallowed; did she know this little statement would by itself make him “hard.” He was pretty sure she did.

Time dragged, but finally it was Friday afternoon. He was of no real use at work; his kindly grandmotherly assistant noticed his distraction and asked if anything was wrong. He assured her not at all, but he would leave a bit early. He went home and showered, wondering while soaping himself if he should take the preventative measure he sometimes had when dating in college to try to defuse premature ejaculation by jacking off before the evening. He decided not to, as he wasn’t quite as prone to that as he had been as a horny teenage boy, but he was so turned on he could hang the bath towel on his cock after the shower. He shaved carefully and dressed in his best casual clothes, took a deep breath, and went to her place.

He had the wine and knocked at her door, pleased there was no one else around to see. The door opened after a moment. She greeted him, and he hoped his false smile hid his disappointment. She was wearing a pair of sweat pants and a baggy sweatshirt; her hair was twisted in a knot with a pencil, and she was wearing fuzzy bunny slippers. Not what his fevered imagination had provided for his fantasy. He realized immediately he had completely misread her signals, and she was trying to show him that she really did only want to do course work. “Hello,” he heard from the doorway to the living room; he looked quickly to see a good-looking young man there. She introduced him—her “roommate.” There’s no fool like an old fool, he thought.

She had prepared a simple salad and some excellent lasagna; her roommate also ate with them, and they seemed very fond of each other. She was captivating with her quick intelligence, gleaming smile, and lovely dark brown eyes. He had brought the materials from the class to discuss with her (at least he didn’t make a complete fool of himself), and after they cleared the dishes she sat in the armchair with her notepad, leaving the couch to him. Her roommate disappeared back into where he presumed the bedroom was. They went to work, and he tried to concentrate as she took notes and asked insightful, probing questions. He was more impressed than ever with the combination of her beauty, brains, and smoldering sexuality.

Her roommate came out a bit later and announced he was “going out for the evening; I’ll probably stay the night at Steve’s.” After the roommate left, she laughed at the comical look on his face. “He’s a great roommate, and I love him, but he’s gay.” He mumbled something to show his liberal leanings and that he was totally embracing of diversity.

He returned to the few remaining issues to cover, but she suddenly seemed less attentive. She stretched like a feline, and even the loose clothing could kartal escort not hide her lithe, awe inspiring figure. She stopped him, “I think I’ve absorbed all I can for now. Do you mind if I put on some music?” Without waiting for an answer she got up from her chair and went over to the I-Pod dock-player on the bottom shelf by the TV, and bent over from the waist to turn it on, her round firm ass displayed before him instantly turning him on. She came back and sat down on the couch this time, turning partially toward him. “It’s hot in here, don’t you think?” she purred, not waiting for an answer and pulling the sweatshirt over her head. Three things happened simultaneously: her hair was released and the gorgeous dark locks cascaded down; his eyes almost popped out of his head; and his dick shot completely upright and almost poked a hole in his pants.

She was wearing a tight black lacy bustier which enhanced the swell of her breasts, and the trimness of her figure, and stopped well above her waist, showing her toned and tanned stomach, a part of a woman’s anatomy he found to be a tremendously sexy turn-on if, like hers, it was in great shape. Her sweatpants were actually hip hugging diaphanous harem pants—in his previous disappointment he hadn’t realized what was under the long loose sweatshirt. She was wearing a white g-string which he could see peeking out at her waist; god she was spectacular. “I think we’ve worked long and hard enough for now,” she said in a silky tone, “long enough and hard enough,” she emphasized. She smoothly stood up directly in front of him, then moved forward, never breaking eye contact and stood between his legs. “I know you want me; let’s see if you can handle me. If you can get me off before I get you off, this won’t be our last private session; if not, well, I hope you enjoy this one time.”

He gulped. Was this really happening? There was no way he could last, he immediately thought. But his mind worked furiously. “Fair enough,” he said, “but we’ll each take turns spending three minutes pleasuring the other. During that time the recipient must just be still and accept whatever the other does. We flip to see who goes first.” “Fine,” she laughed seductively.” Flip your coin.”

He lost the flip. Shit, he thought, this will take an effort of will. She got out an egg timer, turned it over, and immediately positioned herself in front of him.

“Put your hands behind your head.” He did. She unbuttoned his shirt swiftly, but as each button was undone she wetly kissed his neck, then chest. She slowly pulled his shirt from his pants, and as the fabric slid across his swollen member he almost came right then. She was kneading his nipples, which were always sensitive at the beginning of a lovemaking session and became hard little points of pleasure. Her mouth and tongue had made it to his waist, with her breasts pressed against his rigid cock. She looked up directly into his eyes, “Come on, you aren’t going to lose it already, are you?” she mocked, then unbuckled his belt and began to unbutton and unzip his pants, while rubbing herself between his thighs. She tugged the pants down, revealing silk boxers tented with his manhood. She slowly parted his fly with her teeth, exposing the length of his shaft. She looked into his eyes, licked her lips, and began to take the tip of his shaft into her mouth.

“Time’s up,” he panted, noting the sand had run out. “Good,” she said throatily. “Where do you want me?”

He was gathering himself—this was unbelievably erotic. “Stand in the middle of the room, legs apart a bit, arms at your side; and try to stay in one place.” She did as he told her; he wanted to take her in, with his eyes, his hands, his lips, his cock, but he calmed himself. He stood behind her, his shirt open, with only his boxers on. He placed his hands on her perfect waist, and slowly brought them up to her armpits. He also moved her hair over her shoulder, and nuzzled her neck with his lips, then tongue, but without yet pressing his body against her. She uttered a low moan as he slowly slid his hands around and cupped them under the cups of the bustier cradling her perfectly sized breasts, each just more than a handful, and he had big hands. He then moved his hands down to her taut stomach, then shifted himself to her side and moved his right hand behind her and his left crept slowly down past the small g-string triangle he could feel under the fabric of the pants. He pressed his hard on against her smooth hip and began to massage her vulva with both hands from the front and rear.

He could feel through the material she was already wet. He applied firm pressure to her clitoral nerve bundle, and she whimpered and began to sway. He then slid his hands down inside her loose waistband, one in back past the crack of her ass, the other inside her g-string past her neatly trimmed bush, and gently parted her labia with his fingertips, and felt the delicious, warm sensation of her overactive love juices. Her eyes were closed, and she made a guttural sound in her throat. He suddenly applied pressure with his finger to her throbbing clit and rubbed it insistently with two fingers for a few hard strokes, then pressed his fingerers against it like he was trying to pick her up by her now sopping pussy. “This was easy,” he thought, sure he was getting ready to make her explode, when she said “time’s up. My turn now.”

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