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My Student

By: NightGirl359



[Author's note: Thanks to MasterofControl2003 for your help with editing. I am considering turning this into a series, depending on the feedback I receive.]

*

God, she is such a tease. With my hands clasped tightly behind my back, as ordered, I tried in vain to re-organize my thoughts on the lecture. Unable to grasp what it was I had been trying to explain to my class, I instead asked a question trying to spark a discussion that would let me off the hook.

Her eyes continue to bore into me, penetrating, shooting sparks down to my toes and back up to my hard cock. My student. My Lover. My Mistress. No, not mine. I belonged to Her, body and soul. She owned me. 

When I graduated with my teaching degree, returning to my hometown local College to teach sciences sounded like a dream come true. I was newly married and thought I was ready to settle down, start a family, and have a normal life.

No one could have been more surprised than I was on that first day of class, Advanced Chemistry, when she walked in the door to my classroom. I knew her instantly. We hung-out in the same group when I was in school. The funny thing is, I had always thought she was older than me, and here she was in my class, going to be my student. 

At the time I had the biggest crush on her, and she knew it, liked to use it to her advantage. She used to go with a couple of the guys in the group, and heard all of the hot, kinky stories. Lucky bastards. 

One night I had too much to drink and passed out on the couch in my friends' basement. I half-way woke up when I heard some noises. I woke up to see her on her knees, alternating blow jobs between my two friends. I quickly decided to remain motionless so I could watch the show. I was completely mesmerized watching her head bob up and down. By the look on her face she was enjoying it as much as the guys were.

One of them moaned, "I'm gonna cum," which stopped her actions immediately. She reached up and slapped him across the face, "Like hell you are. You're gonna fuck me, first. Then you're gonna fuck him." She grinned at the other guy, the one she was 'dating' at the time.

That caught my attention, this was years before being gay or bi or emo was cool for people our age. As I thought about it, I was kind of disgusted, but turned on at the same time at the thought of the two guys together with her there directing. Both guys seemed to easily accept what she said and followed her into the bedroom. 

I was thoroughly disappointed to miss the main attraction, but quickly pulled out my cock to rub one out listening to them. What happened that night played a major role in my masturbatory fantasies for quite some time afterward.

So what was she doing here, in my classroom? 

She seemed to regard me with interest, but I couldn't tell if she recognized me or not. Either way it was history. I was a professional, and now married; I was sure I could conduct myself and this class without incident. Boy, was I mistaken.

That first day went OK, even when she returned to my classroom later in the day for physics, the last class of the day. In fact the first week went pretty much without incident, though I shouldn't have let my guard down.

As a new teacher at the school, I felt the need to prove myself, and my worthiness, to my students. I quickly gained a reputation, especially with my advanced classes, of calling on the students unexpectedly, assigning a heavy load of homework, and conducting grueling exams.

Looking back now I wonder how much of my effort was meant to challenge my students at large, and how much I was simply trying to get a reaction from her. Being a young guy, the students felt comfortable enough with me to express their frustrations with my assignments, or to challenge an exam grade, but nothing seemed to touch her. 

She was somehow mysteriously on the line between part of the 'in' group and almost beyond the group as well. They would often look to her for input or assistance. Sometimes she sided with them, and her unfailing logic would win me over as she stared unflinchingly, unapologetically, into my eyes. Other times she would actually take my view of things and would end the discord faster than I, the authority figure, was able to.

Though she would look at me while I lectured, her mind never seemed to be on the topic. That said, she was also always the one I could turn to when none of the other students knew the answer. She never raised her hand in class, yet by the same token always seemed to have the floor on the rare occasion she felt the impulse to join in the discussions. 

Most infuriatingly, as a teacher, she NEVER completed her homework, was never bothered by a zero grade. However, each exam, no matter how difficult I tried to make it, she would finish in record time, always with the highest score in the class. 

Once I realized she knew what she was doing, and wasn't going to conform to my standards, I pretty much let her have free reign. I decided it wasn't worth a battle as long as she was learning and maintaining her grades.

The physics class in particular was already nearly a self-guided class. The curriculum was designed for students who would be pursuing a science major, and was therefore a small, select group who would often end up in discussions which I allowed the students to direct, to teach and debate each other.

During physics, particularly when the class went off on a tangent, she would sit on the sidelines, reading a novel or jotting in her notebook. She rarely spoke up unless asked, by the class or myself, for her thoughts. Invariably she was up to speed on the discussion, and was able to contribute intelligently.

She knew me, as well. When the students were starting to get rowdy she would often look to me with a smirk on her face, as if to challenge me to control my classroom. If I was conducting a lecture, asking a difficult question, she would put her book down and patiently wait for me to call on her, knowing my questions would be un-answered by her peers. That really irked me sometimes, as I couldn't decide if it was arrogance, or just confidence. Is there a difference, really?

Don't get me wrong, I don't believe I was fixating on her by any means. I enjoyed exchange with all the students. I enjoyed their refreshing point of view and was completely happy with my decision to return home to teach. But I was fascinated by her. She was an intriguing puzzle to be studied, dissected, examined from every angle.

She participated in several extra-curricular activities, including theater and volleyball, and was an editor on the school newspaper. She was well liked by many different groups within the student body. She worked as well, in what I later learned was full-time personal care taker position, not your typical student job.

My wife, Terri, was also a teacher in the school, teaching entry-level math courses. I wanted to ask Terri about this girl, but also felt I needed to keep it a secret given our brief yet undeniable history together. After a few weeks of classes had passed I still wasn't sure if she recognized me or not. That's when the torture began.

At first I thought I was imagining things: the way she would look up at me from beneath her eye lashes, or would bite or lick her lips while I was talking. But as her actions grew more obvious, I knew it wasn't my imagination. She would lick and suck the end of her pen, teasing me with flashes of her tongue. She would squirm in her seat whenever I came within a few feet of her, and catch her breath if I got any closer.

But of course I wasn't going to act on it! They prepare you for things like this in school; student infatuations, idol worship, that sort of thing. It certainly wasn't that she was fishing for a better grade. And I was married. But that didn't stop my mind from conjuring up her amazing curves and her penetrating gaze when I jerked-off in the shower each morning. Or imagining those gorgeous lips wrapped around my hard cock while I was fucking my wife. 

But I could never act on it, and the rational part of my brain knew that. Which, I think, is why she decided to act first. She got tired of waiting on me to make a move, no doubt.

I had just returned an exam to my chemistry students and reviewed the answers with them, discussing any troublesome questions, explaining the answers I was looking for. Many students took this time to try to argue out of their given grade, try to change my mind. This particular exam came from the text book publisher, so there was very little wiggle-room in the answers.

As we reviewed the answers she did not speak up, though she seemed upset. I didn't think it was about her grade, as she just seemed anxious for class to be over. Once the bell rang and class was dismissed, I returned to my desk to prepare for the next class. That's when she came to me.

My head was down, so I did not notice her approach until she was standing just behind me. She leaned over my shoulder, placing a hand on my back at the same time, causing me to stiffen at the close contact. This was a public environment after all; physical contact between faculty and students is rare and essentially forbidden.

However, she simply placed her exam in front of me before straightening. She did not withdraw her hand from my back. The exam was flipped open to a page where I had marked one of her answers as incorrect. I turned to face her and was surprised by the expression on her face. I was once again unsure if it was arrogance or confidence, as she looked down her nose at me to speak.

"My calculations for number 29 are correct. Your answer key must be wrong. I have to get to my next class now, but I can go over the answer with you later in physics, if you need."

I was dumbfounded, and merely stared at her retreating figure, repeating her statements in my head. There was no question, no hesitation, she was 100% positive that she knew more than me, more than the publishers even. No one in the class had questioned this answer. What's more, *she* wanted to help *me*.

I quickly pulled out my answer key and saw the answer I had marked was the correct answer listed. I pulled out a piece of scrap paper to complete the calculations myself. My next class was filing in, filling their seats, so I worked quickly. I instructed them to take their seats, still working out the problem. I wouldn't be able to move on until I knew.

Crap. I don't know how she did it, but she was right. I was dumbstruck for a moment, contemplating the situation. My class was growing restless, so I pushed my thoughts aside quickly though I was unable to be rid of them completely. 

She remained on my mind throughout the day, and I found myself watching the door as our physics class trickled in. Our eyes met as she walked through the door. She gave a half smile as she approached my table.

"You figured it out," she declared.

"Yes, you were right. Where did you learn this? The chemistry, the physics, all of it - what's your interest?" I had been dying to ask, and could no longer contain myself.

She gave me a deep look, examining me, with a half smile still on her face. "Are you looking for a tutor?" she boldly teased me.

"No, really, how do you know this stuff? That was a fairly advanced problem that you seemed to have no trouble with. If you really have an interest in this, maybe you could help me in class sometime?"

She smiled wider, calmly, "Maybe we can help each other, teach." I didn't even have to wonder what she meant; the intent was clear to both of us. She gave me a wink over her shoulder as she turned to take her seat before I could respond.

That was how it all began. I knew several things in that instant. First, she knew who I was and remembered me from before. Second, all the stories I had heard about all of her kinky interests were true. Third, I was head over heels for her. The last issue was quite troublesome for me.

I was newly married, after all, and I loved my wife. We had a nice, stable relationship. And she was my student. I knew that she was at least 18, making me feel less like a pervert, yet making the situation no more legal in the eyes of the school.

The class was working on a lab project, a carry-over from yesterdays' lesson, so I was able to sit quietly and observe, consumed by my thoughts. Many heads were bent over their stations with some light conversation between lab partners. All in all, I was grateful I could trust this class to stay on-task without my constant coaching.

My eyes wandered over the classroom before meeting her steady gaze. She stared calmly at me, the end of her pen in her voluptuous mouth. I have no idea what she read in my face, but whatever it was prompted her to smile before rising from her seat to approach me.

She brought her paper with her to the front of the class and pointed to it before speaking to me. "I know you remember me, as I remember you, Andy."

I was beyond thinking about right and wrong at this point, and barely even noticed that she addressed me by my first name. 

She glanced up at me from beneath her eyelashes before continuing. "I know you've been watching me, wondering just that. You think I didn't know you had a crush on me?" She paused to watch my face, smiling before continuing, "You're married now." 

She'd put that out there as another statement, always so sure of herself. I was getting very uncomfortable with this line of talk, and glanced nervously around to make sure none of the other students were listening.

She turned her paper over, keeping up a better appearance than I was able to muster. "You're adorable when you're nervous," she said softly. "You're supposed to be answering my questions here, teach. Why don't you give me a nod or something?"

I was in such a trance that I was barely able to get my body to respond, but I was able to give a weak nod, never breaking eye contact with her. She chuckled at my efforts.

"I won't ask if you're interested in *helping* me, as I have a feeling I know the answer to that," she licked her lips invitingly and all I could do was nod weakly again, watching her tongue glide along her gorgeously plump lips.

"Good. Why don't I stay after class today and we can discuss how I may be of service to you, alright?"

I tried to clear my throat, to clear my head, but I felt as if I was in a dream. She returned to her seat, pulled out a book, and generally avoided eye contact. After a moment or two I could feel her spell lifting and my head clearing. 

What was I thinking? Did I just agree to meet a *student* to have an *affair*? I really did need to clear my head. I told my class I was going to make some copies and instructed them to keep at their lab work.

I nearly ran out of the room as I fought for air. This isn't right. I can't do this. Who was this woman? This was not some young girl with puppy-love in her eyes; this was a sensuous, manipulative woman who knew how to get her way.

I can't believe I was even considering meeting her. This was wrong, on many levels, and couldn't happen. I could be fired, divorced, disgraced, barred from teaching, and God knows what else. So many possible consequences I even began to question my sanity.

No, nothing could come of this. I would meet with her today, but only to let her know, gently yet firmly, that nothing was going to happen. There, I had my head straight again, and could therefore safely return to class.

But she was ready for me. Knowing her as I do now, I believe her actions were not for my benefit so much as that she simply knew what she wanted. But at the time I thought she had been sent by the devil herself.

I returned to the room with about 30 minutes left in the class period; it was my last class of the day. I took a seat at my desk, asking the students to see me if they had any questions about the lab in the time we had left. I stared at her, focused, trying to recall my earlier arguments.

Various students approached me in a steady stream, and I answered questions and gave guidance as best as I was able to. She remained in her seat, having either already completed the lab or chosen not to participate. I tried vainly to tear my eyes away from her, but found it impossible to do.

As she sat, she very devilishly went about turning me on in a way I had never before experienced. She would look at me, licking her lips and then stroke her breast, her nipples now straining at the fabric. She would part her legs slightly, shift her position, and then maddeningly close them, offering me the briefest of glimpses. She would rub her hand along her bare thigh, before withdrawing her hand and bringing it to her mouth to lick or suck.

My cock was so hard it was painful. I dared not get up, least my students view my obscene silhouette. Frankly, I was finding it difficult not to pant and drool at that point. I breathed a sigh of relief when the class drew to a close and the students began to leave. I watched, nervous with anticipation, as she remained seated.

Everyone had left the two of us, yet we remained seated, looking into each others' eyes. After an excruciating 30 seconds she broke the silence. "Is your wife expecting you for a ride or anything?"

Oh yeah, I forgot, I'm married. "No, we drive separately."

She gave me a half smile, "Good. Lock the door, turn out the lights, and come here." She hadn't moved a muscle from where she sat, watching me coolly.

I crossed to the door, slightly embarrassed by the tent in my pants but making no attempt to hide it. The door had a window of frosted glass, so once the lights were out no one would be able to detect us inside. It was only mid-afternoon and there was plenty of light coming from the windows.

I quietly turned the lock and turned out the light then walked back toward her, unsure what I should be doing. I had never been picked up by a woman before; I was used to making the moves. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, starting to lose my nerve.

Another moment passed and felt that I should say something. "Look, I-"

"Don't speak," she cut me off with a hard glare. 

I was incredulous. I could hardly believe how this day had transpired. What was I still doing standing there? It was almost like watching someone else. Maybe I was having an out-of-body experience? That would certainly help to explain things.

She rose from her chair and stood before me, another small smile playing at the corner of her lips. She was staring me down again and then commanded, "Don't move."

I wasn't sure how I should respond, so I just gave a small nod, which she seemed to approve of. She took a step closer and brought her hand up to my chest. She left it there for a moment before stepping to the side to walk around me, dragging her nails along behind her. 

She circled around me before coming back to stand in front of me. She took a half step closer and I could feel the heat from her body, though we were still not touching except for her hand on my chest.

She tortured me by licking those amazing lips again before dragging her hand down the front of my body, pausing at my stomach and causing me to tense. "Don't move..." she reminded me softly.

Her hand continued down, gliding along my belt now, then down my hip to my thigh. She took a deep breath and moved her hand over the front of my pants, barely brushing along my hard cock, causing me to tremble. She let her breath out with a slight, "Mmmm," so quietly I wasn't sure I heard it at all. Then, her hand was back, grasping me along the length of my cock through my pants, squeezing with gentle, firm pressure. 

I hadn't been this turned on and wound up since puberty. I struggled to take a deep breath, focusing all of my energy on not cumming, not yet, not until she was ready.

She smiled now, her hand moving down to cup and squeeze my balls, making me moan aloud despite my best efforts to keep quiet.


My Student



"I have an assignment for you, Andy," She said coyly. I wasn't sure if I should answer or not, so I decided to just close my mouth and try to listen.

She was rubbing my cock rhythmically now, enjoying my reaction to her touch. She continued, "I want you to get down on your knees and pleasure me. Do you think you can make me cum?"

I nodded without even stopping to think. Could I make her cum? At that moment, that was all I wanted in life. That was what I was put here on Earth to do. Of course I could make her cum!

She took a step back and watched as I dropped to my knees. Another half step back and she was in her seat. Now I was at the perfect level to access her undoubtedly sweet and juicy pussy. It was my turn to lick my lips.

I reached out to her foot, caressing her ankle and bringing it up slightly to meet my lips. I was trying to seduce her now, as she had done to me. I slowly kissed and caressed my way up to her knee, before gently setting that foot back on the ground and repeating the same with the other.

Once I reached her knees for the second time I anxiously parted them with my face, continuing my kissing and caressing on her thighs. As I proceeded up her legs she slouched in her seat a bit, allowing me better access. My arms wrapped around her thighs and my fingers worked up under her skirt, pulling the material back to make way for my mouth. 

My face reached her panty-clad pussy and I inhaled her musky, womanly scent, savoring her smell, before exhaling warmly on her mound. I used my nose and lips to nuzzle against her pussy, pressing her panties against the soft mound and folds of her body. I desperately wanted to rip her damp panties off, but restrained myself, wanting even more-so to please her.

I continued to nibble and caress her through the flowery material while my hands continued up, reaching for the elastic band at the top. I leaned my body away so I could take her panties down, which she allowed by lifting her hips for me. I savored the view as I slid them down her shapely legs and off.

Her pussy lips were shaved completely free of hair, while her mound was nicely trimmed. I found this look to be extremely erotic, containing aspects of both her youth and womanhood. Dropping her panties, I reached between her legs with my hands and my fingers stroked her velvet-soft outer pussy lips as I stared, mesmerized. Her outer lips parted with my stroking and I could see her glistening, moist inner folds waiting for me.

Getting tired of waiting for me she rolled her hips up, inviting me in. I nodded at her unspoken request and dove in, like a starving man at a buffet. She tasted better than I could have imagined musky and at the same time sweet and almost floral. 

I licked slowly upward along her slit, before finding her clit with the tip of my tongue, sending a jolt through her body. I lifted first one and then the other of her legs up, onto my shoulders, which gave me easier access to her sweet pussy. She wound her fingers through my hair, encouraging me.

I teased her, alternating between licking and sucking her clit, nibbling those pussy lips, and fucking her with my tongue. Her moans were getting louder and I felt she was getting closer to coming, so I focused my attention on her clit. 

Her hips were rocking, and I realized she was fucking my face. Her fingers gripped tighter in my hair and suddenly she stiffened with her orgasm. I could feel her pussy pulsing around my tongue, her juices dripping onto my chin as I lapped at her. 

After a moment her body relaxed and I thought she was done with me, but when I went to sit back her fingers tightened in my hair again. "Don't stop," she moaned, breathing deeply, "Use your fingers to fuck my pussy." 

I did as instructed, loving both her coarse language and the way she ordered me. I continued licking at her clit while using first one, then two fingers in her tight hole. She was really moaning loudly now, and I grew worried about possible discovery, but she was beyond noticing at that point.

Her thighs gripped my head tightly as she came in my mouth again. But still she did not release me. I continued to lap at her dripping pussy, loving the taste, as she continued to hold me hostage. She came one more time before she finally released me, panting, to lean back in her seat.

She chuckled a few times, a silly smile on her lips, before telling me, "That was very good. I think I could get used to that. I've been looking for a new pussy-boy, anyway." She laughed again, "I just never expected to find him at school."

Once again I wasn't sure how I was supposed to respond, so I just smiled slightly and remained kneeling. I didn't need the reminder that what we were doing was so totally inappropriate. 

She slid her foot out of her heeled-sandal then and massaged my straining cock for a minute. "You like being told what to do, don't you, pussy-boy?"

I had to think about that for a moment. I had never done anything like this before. I had never even thought about it but became even more excited at the thought of more.

She noticed my hesitation and narrowed her eyes at me, "What? Tell me you're not enjoying it?"

"No, it's not that. It's just..." I was struggling to find the right words. I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I would say that I like doing what *you* tell me to do. It's *you* that excites me." I felt bold for a moment and held her ankle, pulling her foot down harder against my cock. "It's *you* that has me so turned on I'm willing to break rules and ignore my marriage vows."

Her smile returned at that, though she sat up straighter and removed her foot from my clutch and my lap. She leaned forward and grasped my chin, bringing our faces together.

We kissed for the first time and fireworks exploded behind my eyelids. Our tongues danced together sharing the taste of her pussy. She broke our lip contact long enough to lick some excess juice off my chin, before returning to my lips. We kissed, and kissed, and kissed while my hands went mad, trying to touch every part of her at once before finally resting on her back and pulling her body to me, crushing her to my chest. 

She slid out of her seat and onto my lap without breaking the kiss. Her lips were firm yet soft beyond compare, molding themselves onto mine. The kiss started gently but quickly rose with passion before erupting like molten lava between us. My cock was still straining against my pants fighting to imitate the actions of my tongue.

When she broke the kiss, we were both panting. She had straddled my thighs and was maddeningly rocking her hips into mine. The back of my mind registered that my feet were falling asleep, trapped between the hard tile floor and my body, but I didn't dare break the spell to change positions.

"You wanna fuck me, don't you, pussy-boy?"

"Oh God, yeah!"

She looked deep into my eyes before speaking. "Call me Mistress."

"Yes Mistress. Please let me fuck you?" Did that come out of my mouth?

She smiled and reached behind her for her purse. She watched my face as she pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs. I couldn't restrain my surprise, "Jesus Christ, you bring those to school with you?"

She chuckled, "I bring them everywhere. A girl like me has to be prepared." She licked her lips as she slowly clicked one cuff closed around my wrist. "Have you ever played with restraints?"

She leaned forward, forcing me down on my back and continued smiling into my face. "No, never," I could scarcely breath out my answer.

"Mistress," she reminded me.

"No Mistress," I corrected. She pulled my hands up over my head, looped the cuffs around the heavy leg of a lab table and then secured my other wrist.

For a brief moment of panic I wondered if this was some kind of set-up. Maybe it was a trick of students for new teachers or some sorority gag. And I was stuck.

She leaned back and began unbuttoning my shirt. I slowly forgot my panic as she licked and bit her way down my chest and abdomen. Yes, I learned that day that she was a biter. 

When she reached my belt she paused for a moment to again squeeze and massage my cock through my pants. I had never been that hard and turned-on in my life, and I thought I should warn her. "Umm, I --"

Without hesitation she backhanded me across the face and I saw stars for a few seconds. To say I had not been expecting that would be a gross understatement. I hoped it wouldn't leave a bruise.

"You know how to address me, boy," she said, cold as ice. For the thousandth time, I wondered who this woman was.

"I'm sorry Mistress. I just thought I should warn you how close I am to cumming."

"Fine," she reached up to the handcuffs and unlocked one, pulled my hands in front of the table leg, then locked my wrists again.

I was confused, and it must have shown on my face. She smiled her teasing half smile as she sat back in her chair. "Get on your knees and show me how you jerk off."

Oh my God. I had never done that in front of anyone before. I could see that she was serious, so I got up on my knees and nervously opened my fly and pulled out my cock. With my hands cuffed together it was an awkward task, though not impossible. 

I started to stroke my cock up and down but she stopped me. "No, take down your pants, so I can see." I did as she instructed, again awkwardly, but faster this time. "Good. Now, please continue. But, you're not allowed to cum without permission. Do you understand, pussy boy?"

"Yes Mistress," I answered, already stroking myself, though slowly. She wanted to watch me, so I would try to hold out for as long as I could, through it still won't be long. 

The handcuffs were a heavy reminder of my service to her, and I wore them proudly. I think she liked the sound they made, a metal clanking, as my stroking increased. Before too long I was breathing hard, really getting into it.

As much as I was enjoying myself I could also see that she was getting into it, her lips parted, skin slightly flushed. The lust in her eyes almost put me over the edge, but I held back enough to ask for permission.

"Please Mistress, may I cum?"

"No, not yet." What? I hadn't expected that, and had to slow my stroking down, so close to the edge.

"Please Mistress, I can't wait. I need to cum," I was babbling, almost incoherent, but she didn't stop my pleading. "PLEASE Mistress," I almost whimpered, clenching my teeth to hold back.

"Catch all of your cum in your hand, boy."

"Yes, MISTRESS!" I bellowed as the flood gates released and my cock shot out thick jets of boiling hot jizz. Half of my brain concentrated on catching each spurt while the other half was working on staying conscious and upright. 

I came so hard I had tunnel vision and very nearly blacked-out. It was the most powerful thing I had ever felt in my life. I fired off about 10 or 12 spurts, about twice as many as usual, my body jerking with each one. I was feeling aftershocks and had electricity coursing all through my body as I milked the last few pearly drops from my cock.

My chest was heaving with my deep breathing as I knelt there, trying to compose my thoughts. I looked at my Mistress, as I now thought of her, and she motioned me forward. I shuffled on my knees, my hands held out in front of me, till I reached her.

She leaned forward in her seat and gave me another passionate kiss, which was pretty limp on my part due to my lack of energy. "Did you enjoy that, boy?"

"Yes, thank you Mistress."

"Good," she looked at my hand briefly, then grabbing my wrist, she pushed it up into my face. "Now clean up after yourself." 

She didn't need to explain, I knew what she wanted. Though the thought turned my stomach a little, I wanted to please her. I stuck out my tongue tentatively and lapped at my cum. If I didn't breathe I could swallow without tasting it, though there was no getting around its gooey texture.

I worked quickly, wanting the task to be over, internally noting the irony that this would have to be the biggest cum of my life that I had to clean up this way. Her hand on my jaw stopped me from swallowing a large glob. She again bent over for a kiss, this time sharing my taste instead of hers.

When she was finished with me she released my face and sat back in her seat, watching as I continued cleaning my hand. I did not enjoy the task, but it truly wasn't as bad as I thought it might have been. 

"Alright, stop," she directed me, "sit back and lets go over the ground rules." I sat expectantly, watching her for direction.

"You're mine know, but you know that, don't you, pussy boy?"

"Yes Mistress," I answered, still feeling as though I may be in a trance. I seem to have lost all will of my own. I *was* hers, gladly. Hadn't I always been?

"You're going to do what I say, when I say it, pussy boy. Otherwise you will be punished accordingly." She paused for a minute, thinking. "What are you going to tell your wife?"

"Uh, nothing, Mistress. I can't tell her, please Mistress?" God, is she wanted me to say something I'd be done for.

"Don't worry, it's your life. I'm not going to force you to say anything. I've just never tried to do this behind someone's back before. Well, I guess we'll just have to play it by ear."

"Thank you, Mistress."

"So, back to your assignments. You are not allowed to cum again until out next liaison, which will be Friday. Tell your wife you are going out of town, I don't care, but she shouldn't expect you home that night. In the mean time, no jerking off, no sex, not even a wet dream, understood?"

"Yes Mistress." My brain was already racing, what would I tell my wife? This was getting complicated fast. Of course I would never think to say 'No' to my Mistress.

She continued, "Also, for the rest of the week, I want you to stand with your hands behind your back whenever you have the opportunity. Don't make it obvious, but each time your hands go behind your back and you hold your wrists, I want you to think about how you belong to me, and what you are going to do to serve me, pussy boy."

"Yes Mistress." I moved to put my hands behind my back now but realized immediately they were still hand cuffed together. 

"What time are you expected home?"

It had been just over an hour since I had dismissed my class. "Her classes usually go till about 6, so anytime around then."

"Perfect. On the days of my classes you are to go straight home, take off your clothes, and be waiting kneeling for me by the door. If there are any special circumstances and the schedule needs to change we can discuss it in class."

"Yes Mistress." I was worried about bringing her to my home, but couldn't really see a way around it. Obviously I couldn't go to her home, and a teacher in a town this size couldn't be seen getting a hotel room twice a week.

"I have something in mind for Friday, but I will fill you in later in the week, pussy boy. Meet me here early tomorrow and I will give you the rest of your instructions for the week, boy."

"Yes Mistress." Tomorrow? That seemed like a lifetime from now.

"You did very well today, pussy boy. But I'd better be going, after all, I have homework to do." 

She smiled at me and I lost all train of thought. "Yes Mistress."



My Student



Class was over. All of the students (at least all that had bothered to show up on the day after the test) rushed out quickly. Dr. Vincent Prins knew that Math 090 was not a popular course, and the people who liked math never ended up in this class. But he strongly felt that introductory courses, even remedial ones, were really important. Let others glory in their upper level math whizzes; he gloried in every student who passed the course.

On four of the tests, he had written "Please stay after class long enough to make an appointment." After the rush passed, only one student remained. She approached him with the look of a dog that had just made a mess on the carpet, and was very, very, sorry. 

What was her name again? Oh, yes. "Miss Hall, thank you for staying after. I really appreciate it. I hope that means you are willing to put in some effort to bring your understanding up to a higher level." She looked up at him, like she was still looking for the rolled up newspaper. 

"Well, sir, you asked me to stay. And I know I didn't do so well. I just, don't like math. It's not you, I just don't get it."

"I asked you to stay, Miss Hall, and I'm glad you did. I asked four students to make an appointment; how many other students do you see?"

"Um, none, sir."

"So what fraction of the students I asked to make an appointment showed up?"

"Um, one fourth?"

"And if ONE other student had had your courage and stayed to face the terrible ogre with you, what fraction of the students I asked to make an appointment would have showed up?"

She got a panicked look. "Would that be two fourths, or would it be one half?"

"Thank you Miss Hall. That is correct. Two out of 4 is two fours, or in proper form, one half. But on your quiz, you said that one half plus one third is two fifths. And you made some other mistakes that show you really don't understand fractions very well. Do you have another class right now, Miss Hall?"

"No, sir. This is my last class of the day." She paused. "It's OK if you want to call me Bernadette. Or, my friends call me Bernie."

"By coincidence, it is also my last class of the day. OK, Bernie, here's my offer. Every day, after class, unless there is an emergency of some kind, you, and any other students who wish, may follow me to my office, and I will go over material with you. You will not leave, nor will I, until you have mastered the topic of the day. Our first few topics will deal with fractions. You need to learn the material for this class, to even be able to shop at the grocery store. You may not like it, but it is very fundamental. You need to know it. You may hate me by the end of the semester, but if you keep at it, and keep coming, you WILL learn the material."

"You'd do that for me, professor? Really?" She looked up at him, with hope and wonder in her eyes. She was smiling. It was the first time he had seen her smile. It was a very nice smile. She was a few pounds heavier than a doctor would recommend, but she was kind of cute.

"Of course," he said gently. "It's all part of the service. Now imagine four people want to buy a pizza, but two of them are on a diet..." She followed him to his office, and never missed a day the whole semester. 

"Welcome to Math 95. Most of you are here by placement, some of you were in Math 90 with me last semester." Bernie was sitting in the front row, smiling at him. She still hated math, but she had decided he was her ally in learning how to handle the Math Monster. "We'll do a really quick review, but our goal is to finish learning the basic math skills you need in society by the end of the semester. And please feel free to ask my advice on what math course you should take to fulfill your general education requirement in math."

"Professor?" asked a young lady in the back. "The requirement in my major is to take one math class. This counts, right?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid the Gen Ed requirement must be a math course numbered above 120. This course is to prepare those of you who need help before taking a core math skills course." 

"But... that's not fair. You're making me take an extra course that doesn't count towards graduation."

He shrugged. "I'm not making you do anything. I'm teaching a class. You need to know certain things to be able to succeed. The concept is called 'prerequisite'. If you think you don't need this class, you may retake the placement test. This course counts towards graduation indirectly—if you don't know the material, you won't be able to even take the course that is required."

"But, it's just not fair! I shouldn't—"

"Excuse me, but I'm not here to discuss fairness. I'm here to help you succeed. We can chat more in office hours if you wish, but we need to look ahead at what we will be doing this semester now."

Bernie turned around. "Crystal, he's OK. He really helped me a lot. He's pretty cool. Just do it, OK?"

Crystal subsided with mumbles under her breath, and class began.

After class, Bernie actually beat him back to his office, and was waiting for him when he arrived. "Bernie, good to see you again," he said, "but I find it hard to believe you have questions on the first day."

"Well, professor, I have questions, but they aren't math questions." She took a deep breath. "I'm trying to decide if I should withdraw from the whole semester."

He waved at the chair. "Have a seat. Tell me what's happening."

"My mother is dying. She's on dialysis, and not high enough on the list for a transplant. And. Frankly, her health isn't so good; she might not even survive a transplant. I'm thinking I should drop out to take care of her. The doctors only give her a couple of months to live."

"Have you talked to your mother about this?" he asked gently. "What you do won't make much difference in how long she lives, but missing a semester will really throw you off track. There are courses in your major that are every other year courses. It isn't just one more semester."

"My Mom doesn't want me to drop. But... how can I go off to class every day, when my Mom is dying?"

"I know this is hard for you. And it's even harder, because you don't have a father, and you're an only child. But, your Mom wouldn't want you to blow off your education for her, and I think you know that."

Bernie sniffed. "That's kind of what she said."

"Trust me. Most parents would rather die than hurt their children's chance at a good life. It's really your decision; but I have a suggestion."

"What?"

He shrugged. "Drop down to part time, for this one semester. Commute from home. Only take the classes that are needed to keep you on track, like the every other year major courses. And, oh yes, the Experimental Psychology class taught next year, has a prerequisite of statistics, and this class is a prerequisite for statistics. So I'm afraid you're stuck with me anyway."

"I'd like to stay in your class, but math is so HARD for me. I know I'm going to be upset a lot, and I can't do math when I'm upset."

"Bernie," he said gently. "Look at me." There were tears running down her cheeks. "Do you trust me?" She nodded. "I'll help you. Extra meetings, like we did last semester. If you miss because of your mother, I'll let you make it up. But you can't graduate on time if you don't get credit for this class this semester. You really should have taken this class as a freshman; you let your fear of math talk you into delaying it as long as possible. You need to take a couple of classes, including mine. You know your Mom doesn't want you to sacrifice your career just because she's dying."

"But she's my Mom!"

"And she loves you, and she'll be happier knowing you are doing what you need to live your life. Ask her. She's the kind of Mom who would give her life to save you if she could; don't throw away your career just because she's dying. I'll help any way I can."

"Any way?" she asked. He nodded. "It would help," she said, "if I could have a hug right now." He stood up and held out his arms. She grabbed him tight, put her head on his shoulder, and just wept. He stood there, rubbing her back, and holding her. He tried not to think about how pretty she was. He just wanted to be there for her.

"Hug?" He stood up and turned, knowing Bernie would be rushing into his arms. She was really upset by her mother's terminal condition; she always stopped by to hug him after class, and often at other times. She never referred to it in class, for which he was grateful. He didn't want to explain to the Dean why one of his students always wanted hugs. He didn't want to admit, even to himself, how her hugs made him feel.

"Tears again? What's happening, Bernie?"

"Mom can't eat any solid food anymore, and she's refusing a feeding tube. She won't be able to get what she needs through a straw. She'll just starve, and then maybe dehydrate, and..."

She was hugging him so tightly that he was talking to the back of her head. "It would be worse, if she had a feeding tube. My father lasted 6 extra months because of a feeding tube, and he was miserable the whole time. I know it's hard, but your Mom thought it through in advance, and this is the way it has to be."

"I don't know what I'm going to DO when she's gone," she told his shoulder. "After the medical bills, I don't even know if there will be enough for me to finish college."

"Worry about that later. We'll work something out." 

"I'm only in three classes, and I'm having a hard time keeping up. But I have to have all three."

"If you have to choose," he said gently, "do your other classes first. I can catch you up later. The situation with your Mom would qualify you for an incomplete if you need it."

She pulled back, and looked at him through teary eyes. "You'd really let me blow off your class to do my other classes?"

He nodded. "If that's what you need to do."

"Why are you so nice to me?"

"I'm nice to all my students, when I'm not being the mean ogre that Crystal keeps running into." 

That was worth a giggle on her part. "You're no ogre. You're a pussycat. And I love you." And before she even knew she was going to do it, she pulled him to her for a deep kiss. And he kissed her back.

"My Mom died last night."

He put his arms around her. It felt good to hold her in his arms. "Why are you here? Everyone would understand if you took a day off."

She sighed. "There's more." 

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that. What else?"

"Mom named a bank as the executor. She didn't want me to have to deal with things. The problem is, the executor decided that there was not enough money, and he had to sell the house right away." She looked him right in the eye. "I have one week after the end of finals to empty the house, and I'm way behind on homework as it is. I'm so close to finishing the semester, but I'm just... losing it."

He held her some more, while she cried. 

"OK, Vincent, that's the last load. Thanks for the dinner, but you owe us one." The guys in the truck drove off.

"It's really generous of you," Bernie said, "to lend me the money for a storage locker, and I'm so happy your friends were willing to move the stuff. That means I don't have to sort through Mom's stuff until this summer. But... I don't have a place to LIVE. I don't have any MONEY to pay rent. I don't think I'm supposed to live in the storage locker, but I'll probably have to sleep there tonight. I'm sure I can't live in my car. I need a bathroom, at least. What can I do?"

She was tired of being brave in front of his friends. She went to him for reassurance. He held her tight, stroked her hair, and kissed her cheek. "I know where you can stay until you figure out what you want to do. It's not perfect, but the price is right."

"Tell me about it. I'm desperate." She was holding on so tight, he couldn't have gotten away if he had tried. But he had no desire to get away from this lovely woman.

"It's in a basement. Someone lives upstairs. There's a separate entrance in the back of the house, a bed room, a bath room, and a main room. There's a laundry room, but you have to share with the person upstairs. There's a kitchen upstairs you can share, or you can make a little kitchenette using the utility sink, and have your own space."

"How much is it?"

"Well, it's free, at least for the summer."

"So what's wrong with it? Nobody rents out rooms for free."

"Well, the basement really isn't in use, so it's not much extra cost. But you have to live at the same address as the person upstairs, who is a guy. He's somewhat of a loner; the academic type."

"So I can live for free if I live with a guy? You're not suggesting..."

"No, the guy won't make you do anything that way you don't want to do. He just wants to help you out."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How does this guy even know about me? Do I know him?"

He looked into her eyes. "Well, that's the thing. I didn't even want to suggest it, knowing how bad it would look, you living at the same address as a guy. And he wouldn't want people to know he had a tenant, so you'd have to be careful who you gave the address to. But, you don't have many options right now. So, if you want, it's available."

"Who's the guy?"

"Um, the guy is me. I can lose my job if people jump to the wrong conclusion, but I can't just let you be homeless. So what I'm building up to is, if you want, you can stay with me until you find a better option."

She gasped. "Are you seriously asking me to live with you?" He nodded. She pulled him close for a kiss. "I accept. I'll get a post office box. And I won't tell anyone where I'm staying, because I don't want you to lose your job." 

She thought for a minute. "It's not just because I have nowhere else to go, or because the rent is free." She blushed. "I kind of like the idea of living with you." And she gave him another kiss.

His car was already in the driveway, in front of the one car garage. She parked in the carport, as directed. "Here's your key," he said. "It opens the back door, which goes into the walk out basement. If the garage is open, you can go through the kitchen. Let me show you around."

The kitchen was a kitchen; wooden table, chairs, microwave, stove, dishwasher, cabinets. It was remarkably clean, for a man living by himself. 

"These stairs go down to the basement." 

It was a basement, but it didn't smell musty, it had tile on the floor, and the walls were concrete, but painted white. There was a couch, entertainment center, two comfy chairs, a card table and four folding chairs. She suspected the card table and folding chairs were brand new. "It looks nice, for a basement," she said.

The bedroom was equipped like a dorm room. There was a bed, a chair, a desk, a dresser, and a bookcase. Since it was a walkout basement, there was a window. She looked at it. "All the comforts of dorm." He smiled.

Past a doorway, there was an obvious storage area to the left, and past a washer and dryer, there was an open door. She went to look. It was a new looking bathroom, with tile, walk in shower, everything needed. "This is a pretty big basement. How come your house is so big when you live by yourself?"

He sighed. "When I accepted this job, I was engaged to be married. I wanted a house big enough to raise a family in. At the last minute, she cancelled the engagement; she said she didn't want to live 'out in the sticks', so she moved in with her mother rather than get married and come with me."

"I think, in hindsight, that it would have been bad for us to get married, but it left me paying off a big mortgage and feeling lonely, roaming all around this big house by myself. I'm kind of glad to have the company."

"So, I'm nosy, you haven't had a girlfriend since?"

He reached out and put his hand alongside her cheek. "I have friends, and some of them are girls, but I haven't even discussed... romance with anyone, since then. I'm all alone."

"Not anymore," she whispered. "I'll keep you company, for as long as you want."

He looked at her. "That could end up being a long time. I won't hold you to that. Anyway, you can set up a kitchenette by the utility sink, or come up and use the kitchen. I do have to do laundry down here, so you have to put up with me invading your domain now and then."

"Can I come up and visit, now and then?"

He nodded. "Whenever you want, but please knock before entering any room upstairs other than the kitchen. I don't always... dress up." 

"I'll let you get settled in. I'll be up for a while; you can come up and ask me anything, tonight."

She had not brought anything in from her car but her suitcase. She set it in her new room. It did not look like home. Maybe she should get some decorations?

Vincent was surprised when she came up the stairs, practically on his heels. She dutifully knocked before crossing into the living room. "I'm lonely," she said. "It's too quiet, down there." 

"You said I could ask anything tonight. Can I start by asking for hugs?"

He nodded, and patted the seat beside him on the couch. As she crossed the room, he noticed that she had been losing weight. Perhaps that was effort, or perhaps it was the effect of stress, but she looked a lot more attractive than she had 10 months ago, when she had started her first class with him. She sat next to him, and slid an arm behind his back. He put his arms around her, and held her tight.

"You've been through a lot. You've had a tough time of it. I'm glad I've been able to help a little. We'll get you back on your feet."

She snuggled in closer. "What happens if someone finds out that you are, literally, living with one of your students?"

He shrugged. "I would lose my job, unless I can convince a committee that I actually did nothing wrong." He looked her in the eye. "If someone is known to be living with one of their students, the assumption is they are engaging in 'moral turpitude'. No one has defined it, but 'moral turpitude' is sufficient grounds to fire a tenured professor."

"I don't think I've ever done 'moral turpitude' with anyone, she said thoughtfully. But I'm not sure, because they didn't discuss 'moral turpitude' in my health class."

She thought about it for a minute more. "If I want to do it, is it still 'moral turpitude'?"

"Um, I'm not sure, but between a professor and a student, they would probably think so."

"Too bad," she said, with an impish little smile. "I was going to ask you to show me how to do 'moral turpitude', but I don't want to get you fired."

They chatted, and held each other. The companionable silences got longer. Finally, she looked up at him. "There's one more thing I'd like to ask you tonight. In about 10 minutes, could you come tuck me in, and give me a good night kiss? It would help me sleep better tonight."

He went down in a few minutes, to find her under the covers, in a white, lacy nightgown. "How can I tuck you in, when you are already under the covers?"

She sighed. "It's so simple. Tuck your left arm under me. Tuck your right arm under me. Then give me my bedtime kiss."

He was obviously not fast enough. She tossed back the covers. "Take your shoes off, and lay down next to me." He noticed the nightgown was thinner than he at first thought. It was thin enough, that he was relatively sure she had nothing on under it. That was distracting.

He did what he was told. "Now, give me my bed time kiss." He gave her a little peck on the cheek. 

Obviously, that was not sufficient. She made him practice over and over again, until he got it right. Then, once he got it right, he had to practice a few more times, to make sure he remembered how for tomorrow. He had never imagined tucking someone into bed could be so fun.

"Please," she then whispered, "Please just hold me for a few more minutes before you go."

She never once cooked a meal down in the basement. Within 48 hours, they were synchronizing their days together. She cooked most of the time; he did cleanup most of the time. When they went out, they maintained a physical separation, in case someone from the College saw them. When she worked on organizing her mother's affairs, he did his course preparation for the next year. They took long walks in the nature preserve together for exercise. They watched movies (with popcorn!) in the basement 'movie theater'. She really needed a friend to help her through her grieving; he was glad to have a friend of any sort, but especially one so caring, sensitive, and beautiful. He always made himself leave after the demanded good night kiss; she always invited him to stay longer.




My Student



"I have a question," she said. She didn't want to get into the habit of calling him by his first name, because she still had a year to go at the college. But it seemed silly to always call him 'Professor'. When he was tucking her into bed, there was no question who she was talking to.

"Ask away," he replied.

"If I'm NOT a student in any of YOUR classes, just a student at the College, is it 'moral turpitude'?"

"I'm not sure," he said, "but it would certainly be better, in the eyes of the committee, if I were not associating with any of my CURRENT students."

She looked at him. "I'm serious now. Listen. It doesn't look like money from the estate, if any, is going to come through in time to help me with my undergraduate degree. And that means I barely have money to pay tuition, and I definitely DON'T have money to pay room and board too. I would rather live with you" a quick smile escaped "than in the dorm anyway, but if I'm in YOUR class, and people find out I'm living with you, it would be bad."

He nodded, and then shrugged. "I'm not sure what to do."

She said, "I think you are the best teacher in the world. But there is an opening in the section taught by the other mathematician, and that counts just as much for graduation. Should I switch into his section, so you won't be in as much trouble if people find out?"

"Is that what you want?"

"No. What I WANT, is to be in your class, and walk in each day and give you a big kiss. I want to get tutored in my nightgown, without going in to campus for office hours. I want to be able to tell everyone that you're the best professor ever. But I DON'T want you to get in trouble for 'moral turpitude'."

He sighed. "I'll tell you, I had trouble even last semester, grading you like everyone else. It really would be better, from the College point of view, if you switched to the other section. I could still tutor you, and everything, but that way, you would have your grade assigned by someone who isn't madly in love with you."

"What did you say?" she asked, astonished.

"I said, 'That way, you would have your grade assigned by someone who isn't madly in love with you.'"

"I love you too," she said softly. "I'll switch sections tomorrow." Then, with a sudden twist, she flipped him onto her bed, between her and the wall. And she climbed on top, to prevent him from escaping. 

She must have been very restless that night. It took a great many bedtime kisses before she was ready to go to sleep. 

"Dr. Prins" said a familiar voice on the phone, "the Dean would like you to stop by to see him at your earliest convenience."

All the faculty knew the Dean's office manager. "Betty, what's it about? Do I really need to come today? It's summer, I'm not even on campus."

"Um, the Dean really didn't say, except 'earliest convenience'." She paused, and lowered her voice. "But he doesn't seem happy. I think you'd better come in. Really."

'It's never good news', he thought, 'when the Dean doesn't even say what it's about. And it's even worse, when the Dean's manager admits he's unhappy.'

"So, Betty said you wanted to see me. What's up?"

"I have been hearing some reports that I do not like, and I wanted to see if there was any truth to them."

He waved at the Dean to continue.

"I am sure that you are aware of the Staff Handbook statement on declaring potential conflicts of interest, and the Faculty Handbook statement on appropriate character and morals."

"Of course I am. I was on the committee that revised the language, last time around. So what's the issue?"

"Well, to be frank, I have heard reports that you are living with a student of yours. Is that true?"

"Of course not," he answered. "Now, if the reports were that I am landlord for a former student, that would be much closer to the truth."

"So you admit it."

"Sir, I just said that it is NOT true I am living with one of my students. A landlord relationship with a former student is not the same as 'living with' a current student."

"Is Bernadette Hall living at your house?"

"Miss Hall has a room rented in the house I live in. She has her own separate entrance, and her own space."

"And she is your student."

"She WAS my student. In the event she can afford tuition this coming year, she will be taking no classes from me. She is, therefore, a FORMER student."

"She is currently enrolled at this college."

"It is summer time, technically I'm not even on contract, nor is she enrolled, during the summer."

"You can play with words all you want, but you have admitted that you are living in the same house with a currently enrolled student."

"Sir, you can exaggerate if you wish, but that doesn't make it true. A former student of mine is living in her own room that happens to be in the building I live in. It is NOT the same as what you imply."

The Dean sighed. "I'm going to give you a break. I don't want a public fuss, and I'm sure you don't either. Sign this, and it will all be done." 

Vincent looked at the paper. "I hereby resign my position at the College for personal reasons, effective immediately." Even the date was filled in, for today.

"No sir, I will not sign. I have done nothing that warrants my resignation, and I do not wish to resign. I am a tenured professor, and I wish to remain so."

"You can be fired for 'moral turpitude' and you know it."

"Only if the committee agrees that I should be fired, after holding a hearing."

"I am changing the password on your email, canceling your phone service, and changing the lock on your office door. You are done here. You will never teach another class."

"If you wish to pay me full salary until retirement without asking me to teach you may choose to do so, but you cannot dismiss a tenured faculty member without a hearing. And, I'm sure you remember also, that the proceeds of such hearings are confidential. If necessary I will sue you for breach of contract, defamation of character, slander, libel, and I will ask for full salary with cost of living raises until retirement, with triple punitive damages. I have done nothing wrong, sir, nothing at all, and you are trying to force me out without even a hearing. I will not stand for it. If you think I have done something wrong, call a meeting of the committee."

"Leave this campus. Now."

"Sir, you may only require me to leave this campus if you have established a life threatening danger potentially exists if I am allowed to stay. All you have are unsubstantiated rumors that I have repudiated. Even if your allegations were true, there is no danger to anyone from my alleged behavior. Excuse me; I have other people to see."

He took the letter with him; it might be needed as evidence. Few of any of the faculty he needed to see would be on campus in the summer, so he left. He had a campus directory at home.

He went in his house. Bernie was not upstairs, but her car was in the carport. He went downstairs. Her bedroom door was open, but she wasn't there. He heard her voice. 

"Oh! You startled me. I didn't think you were home."

He said, "Bernie, I need a HUG!" and turned to face her. There she was, her hair was wet, and she was barely wrapped in a big towel. 

If he had been just a little bit less upset, he would have run back upstairs. She turned, and almost ran back to the bathroom, but he looked so upset... She reached out with the one arm that wasn't keeping the towel from falling. 

"Huggie!" she called. 

He hugged her so tight there was no chance of the towel falling; it was trapped between them. He found his hands caressing her bare back. He sobbed incoherently for a while. "It wasn't fair." "They had no right." "We hadn't DONE anything." She understood something was wrong, but not exactly what. 

He lifted his head from her shoulder, and said "thanks. I needed that. But I'm sorry I caught you at a bad time. I'll go upstairs now, and when you're ready, come up and I'll tell you the whole story. I'll need your help." He let go of her and stepped back. The towel dropped to the floor. She did not move. His eyes widened, drinking in the sight. Then he realized, he wasn't supposed to be staring at her. A little reluctantly, he ran up the stairs.

She shook her head, sighed, and tossed the towel in the hamper before she started getting dressed.

"So, the Dean tried to fire you, and now there will have to be a committee meeting to decide if you did anything wrong, by letting me live in your basement." Neither of them mentioned how little time she actually spent in the basement. They were in the living room at the moment.

"Right. That about sums it up. I didn't want it to come out, and it will look bad, but my position is that renting a room to a former student is a landlord kind of relationship, no conflict of interest to be reported, and no moral violation at all."

"And I promise not to mention how much I like to kiss and hug my landlord." She smiled at him, and wiggled her lips. He obliged her. She pulled him back for seconds, and then finally let him go. 

"But could it be a violation to rent to a student who isn't in your classes?"

"Dr. Robert Hemmingway actually owned the house the new Gamma Delta Iota fraternity was in during its first two years, and he even gave them a price break the first year. And no one gave him a problem about it."

"What if they say you were too easy on grading me?"

"I'll pass your tests over to our other mathematician, who you'll be having for Statistics in the Fall. He'll be able to double check my grading. And I did grade you on the same scale as everyone else."

"Maybe this is a bad time, but, I have to ask." She blushed. "What if after being cleared of this charge, later, um, what if we, um, ACTUALLY lived together? Would they come back to get you?"

He looked at her. "Once you graduate, you are no longer a student, and the College doesn't require faculty to get approval when they date or get married. Actually, Dr Newton, in Philosophy, taught a student, married her, and supported her through graduate school. She teaches at a college 30 miles away, and they live half way in between."

"It's actually a violation of Federal Law to do 'sexual harassment'; but that always involves people you are supervising at the time. If you don't accuse me, and your tests show you earned your grades, I don't see how I could be disciplined. But, some on the committee might just vote with the Dean to curry his favor, so nothing is certain."

"What if you lose?"

He shrugged. "I'd sue the College for the rest of my salary and punitive damages, and they'd settle to avoid the publicity. Then I'd try to get a job somewhere else. Maybe we could... never mind. That's a discussion for later, if it happens."

Her eyes got wide. She wondered what would have come after 'maybe we could...'. The 'we' part sounded like he wanted a future that included her, even if he lost his job here. But she didn't ask; he was under a lot of stress as it was. But she wondered...

"Miss Hall, when you were in classes with Professor Prins, how did he treat you differently than other students?" asked the Dean.

"Excuse me sir, but asking the question that way assumes that she was treated differently. Could you please rephrase the question?" 

Professor Thornberg was a former public defender, now the pre-law advisor. Vincent was grateful that he had agreed to be his advocate.

"Very well, did Professor Prins treat you differently than any other students?"

"No, sir, he didn't."

"But according to another student, you went straight to his office after nearly every class meeting."

Vincent almost expected Professor Thornberg to object to hearsay evidence, but he kept quiet.

"Sir, you asked if I were treated differently. All students were invited to come to office hours. I am the student who took advantage of office hours the most, but all students had the opportunity." Vincent saw her glance at professor Thornberg, and then look away. 'Did he warn her to expect that question?' he wondered. 'Maybe I don't want to ask.'

"So, please tell the committee in your own words how you ended up living with Professor Prins."

"Excuse me, sir, but she can't answer in her own words, if you keep putting words in her mouth. 'Living with' carries connotations that have not been established."

The Dean raised his hands in frustration. "How did you come to live where you are living now?"

"Well, my mother died during the semester, and the executor ordered me to move out of mother's house right after finals. I didn't have time to find a place, or much money either. Professor Prins heard that I had no place to stay, and he said he had a vacant basement. I don't know if he had tried to rent it out before, or not. He said I could have it for a good price, since he wasn't really using it. And it had its own entrance, its own bathroom, it was my own space."

"I moved in because I had no where else to go, and it was a great deal. He never suggested anything inappropriate to me. I live downstairs, and he lives upstairs, and he only comes down to do laundry. I did nothing wrong."

The Dean started attacking her, verbally. Professor Thornberg, always courteously, brushed off most of his questions as irrelevant. Still, the Dean managed to convey the impression, just by the questions he was trying to ask, that she was a student of 'loose virtues' who was at least paying back (and not with money) the Professor for considerations received when she was in the class. Finally the Dean got tired of asking his questions, or figured his points had been made anyway.

"Miss Hall," Dr. Thornberg asked gently, "Do you have anything else to add?"

"Yes, I do," she said defiantly. "I think it's terrible that you're hounding Professor Prins like this. All he did was let me stay in his basement, when I would have been homeless otherwise. He didn't do anything wrong. He wouldn't. He's too nice."

"None of you have been saying 'moral turpitude', but that's what this is about, isn't it? Well, play your stupid committee games, but leave me out of it. I haven't done anything wrong, either. And I resent the implications you have been making. So here, put this in your evidence." She through an envelope down on the table. "You've already drug me through muck. And if I don't get a public apology by tomorrow for all these slanders on MY character, I will sue the College for defamation of character, and I will announce my suit in the Tribune by the end of the week. Think what THAT will do to recruitment of students." And she got up and left the room.

Vincent did not know what was in the envelope, but Dr. Thornberg did, because she had asked him if she should. "Gentlemen, that is a letter from the Student Health Service, confirming some information from her gynecological exam last week. Let me just say, it confirms she was not active in such a way as to promote 'moral turpitude' at all. Are you going to make me put it in evidence, or will the committee stipulate that Miss Hall was not providing any non-monetary 'benefits' to Professor Prins in return for rent?"

Bernie waited outside the door. It was almost embarrassing, in this day and age, to be a medically certified virgin at age 22. But she just couldn't let them make those kinds of implications about her. And Vincent had always been a perfect gentleman. She supposed that now, it was good that he had never tried to seduce her before, because she didn't have to lie to clear his reputation. But he was such a good man; so kind, so tender, so sensitive; maybe she would have to figure out a way to seduce him. She sat, waiting for the committee to finish, and dreamed of what it would be like to seduce that shy, gentle, attractive professor she was living with.

Vincent came out to find Bernie asleep on the couch. He didn't dare touch her, not with the committee deliberating inside the room. She was smiling in her sleep; it took all his willpower to not wake her with a kiss. 

That would not have given the right impression, if anyone from the committee happened to see it. 

They were sitting on the couch in the living room, happy to be done with all that. "Bernie, we need to talk."

"OK, what about?"

"well, I want to re-negotiate our agreement about the basement."

She looked sad and worried. "Is something wrong? I thought everything was OK now."

He looked her straight in the eye. "There is nothing wrong, everything is OK, but I want you to listen to my proposal, OK?"

"OK. But you're not mad, or anything?"

"No."

"You aren't going to throw me out?"

"Absolutely not."

"OK, tell me."

"Well actually," he blushed, "they might have done me a favor." 

Why was he blushing? she wondered. 

"And I realized, after all this, that you staying in the basement is really too temporary. If that's what you want, to stay in my basement until you graduate, that's OK. But it's not what I want. So I have something I want to ask you."

He got down on one knee, and reached under the edge of the couch. "I want to give you a present, as a symbol of our relationship." He pulled something out, and handed it to her. It was wrapped.

"If you don't want it, just give it back, no problem. But I really hope you do want it."

She pulled the ribbon off, and the wrapping paper practically fell off a little box. 'It looked like, ...no, it couldn't be...' she thought. 

She opened the box. Inside was a ring that sparkled. 

"Will you marry me?" he asked. 

They did not announce their engagement until after she had graduated. Most people on campus did not hear about their engagement, until after they had been married for some time. She went to graduate school, and ended up as a marriage counselor. She insisted she wanted to help others be as happy as she was.



My Student Boarder



I was a 33 year old executive with a medium sized company. My career was getting better every day. I owned my home and had a wonderful car. I had everything. Everything that is except a wife.

I had been married. My wife and I married when we were both 26. She was an executive also but with another firm. We both worked long hours and often got home after 8 pm. On weekends if we were not working, we did all kinds of different things. We sky dived, went scuba diving and even hang-glided. I thought we had a great marriage. Even the sex was exciting and fulfilling. Well, at least it was to me.

Then one day, my wife dropped a bomb shell. She came home and told me she was leaving. Apparently, she had been having an affair for some time and she told me she was in love with this guy. So by the end of the week, she had moved out. One year later, we were divorced.

I heard about 6 months after we separated, the guy had left her. A few months later, she had lost her job. I never heard why but she seemed to be in a downward spiral.

So here I was alone in home. I had dated but with my job, I found working on a relationship difficult. So often I just stayed home and relaxed.

It was early in September. I was watching the late night news. Nothing important was happening. I was half dozing and half watching. A story came on telling about the housing shortage at the local university. If I was not mistaken, I heard this story every year so I didn't pay much attention. After the weather and the sports, I went to bed.

On the way into work the next morning, I was listening to the radio. The two announcers were discussing the housing shortage. Apparently it was more desperate than previous years. They said the university needed 300 places for students. I listened but didn't give it much more thought.

On the way home, there was the story again. Ok so after hearing it three times, I started to think. I have a four bedroom house and I live alone. If I could get the right type of student, it might work out.

The next day I phone the housing department and talked with a wonderful woman. I asked a number of questions and she was very re-assuring. She told me I could interview the students and pick who I wanted. So I agreed to let my name be added to the list.

When I got home that evening, there was a message from a Marsha Simms. She was a student at the university and she wanted to come over that night if she could to discuss the room I had available. It wasn't 5 minutes after I listened to the message and the phone rang. It was Marsha. Could she come over now and talk with me? She seemed polite so I agreed.

Fifteen minutes later, my door bell rang. When I opened the door, there stood Marsha. She was about 5'6, red hair in a pony tail and she had glasses. She was wearing a university sweat shirt and blue jeans. She looked nice but plain.

After she came in, we sat and had tea. For some reason, we talked and talked and talked. I could not believe how compatible we were. Marsha was a 26 year old graduate student in her last year of school. She was from a small rural town. Her parents had been farmers until her father had been hurt. Now her mother worked to support the family. There wasn't much money but she could afford the room and board I was asking.

Finally I got around to showing her the room. I had thought I would let whoever rented the room to have the fourth bedroom as a study. This was much more than she had hoped for. I quickly thought of a few rules I needed to have in place. First, no parties. Second, no overnight guests. Third, no loud noise or music. She would have the run of the house and could use the washer and dryer. Since there was a bathroom off my bedroom, she could have the main bathroom to herself. Marsha agreed to everything. She was so happy to have a place. For the past week she had been staying with a girlfriend and had been sleeping on the floor.

We agreed she could move in tomorrow night after 7 when I got home.

At 6:30 I pulled into the driveway and Marsha was waiting for me with all her stuff on the front steps. Her friend had driven her over about 5 because she had to go out that night. So I helped her move everything into the house and up to her rooms. Marsha set to work immediately putting things away and setting up her computer.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Marsha worked on her rooms and I went to bed. In the morning, when I was showered and dressed, I went downstairs. Marsha was in the kitchen. Breakfast was ready. Bacon, eggs and toast were on the table. I looked at her in amazement. Marsha explained she had a big family and she was used to helping her mother get the younger ones off to school. The breakfast was incredible.

When I got home that evening, she had made a spaghetti dinner with garlic bread. I was fantastic. I told Marsha she didn't have to cook for me. She looked at me and told me she loved to cook and she would consider it a privilege to cook for me. How could I object?

After dinner, I looked around the house and noticed thinks looked different. I could not put my finger on it but things were a little different.

When I came home Friday, I went up to change before dinner. When I went into my room, there on the bed was a stack of clean clothes. I asked Marsha about it. She told me she had several things that needed cleaning so she did my wash at the same time. Her argument was, "Why waste water with a small load?" I could not argue with that.

Saturday morning, I told Marsha I had to go food shopping. She asked if she could come along. I told her it was not necessary. She looked at me and kind of begged me to let her come along. "After all," she said, "I've been doing the cooking and I need to know what's in the house." Again, I couldn't argue.

Sunday she made an incredible roast beef dinner with potatoes and vegetable. During dinner, I thanked her for all she had done in the past week. "But Marsha, school starts next week and I don't want you doing all this work around here. You must look after your studies. Those come first." She assured me she would not let her studies slide. Besides, she loved doing house work and cooking. It was not a burden to her.

So this was the start of our year. Every morning, breakfast was ready and every night, dinner was waiting.

I continued to notice small differences in the house. The kitchen had never looked cleaner. My bathroom was always clean and shining. My laundry was always done. Even my ironing was done.

After a month or so, I sat Marsha down. "I'm worried about all you're doing around here. I think you should be doing more studying and school work." She told me her graduate year was not that many hours of classroom time but more essays and presentations. She had lots of time to look after the duties in the house. "Well if that's the case, then I am going to reduce your rent. I can't keep taking all your money if you're doing all this around here." Marsha was so happy, she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

A few more weeks went by. Marsha came to me one day and asked if I would let my cleaning lady go. I asked her why. "I don't like the job she's doing. I've been going around after her and cleaning what she missed. I'ld like to do all the cleaning around here."

I sat back and let out a puff of air. "Are you sure you can handle this extra work? I don't want your studies to suffer." She told me she could handle it. "I'll let you do this on one condition." Instantly Marsha looked worried. I smiled and said, "My condition is, you don't pay any more for rent or board."

Her hands came to her face and she started to cry. "Oh Tom, I can't believe this. I'll make this house look so good, you won't believe it." Her tears flowed so I pulled her close to me and hugged her. I knew she was crying happy tears but she liked the hug. After a few minutes, she looked up at me and gave me a kiss. It was on the lips and lasted only a few seconds but the electricity made my cock come to life. Nothing came of the kiss but I didn't mind.

So now Marsha was doing everything around the house. She did the cooking, the cleaning and the laundry. The house looked great. It became our custom to go the supermarket every Saturday and buy the food together. The meals she was cooking were incredible. I was starting to put on weight.

All too soon, Christmas break came around. Marsha left about 2 weeks before Christmas to be with her family. The house was instantly empty and I was lonely. What was going on here? Why did I miss her so much? It wasn't the work she did around here. I could do all that. It was different.

A couple of times before Christmas, Marsha phoned me in the evening. We talked and talked. It was wonderful to hear her voice. I didn't admit it to myself, but I missed her very much.

Two days after Christmas, I came home from work and the lights were on. When I opened the door, I could smell a wonderful dinner. Marsha had come back early. I asked her why she told me her younger sibs had been driving her crazy. So she decided to come back to the quiet of my house.

New Year's eve, we decide to go out to a club and celebrate. It was a dinner and dance night. It was a fun night and we had a great time. We danced and danced until 3 am.

Soon it was time for school again and we settled into our routine. My house felt wonderful and I could not wait to get home in the evening so I could be with Marsha.

February came and it was Marsha's birthday. I asked her if she had plans and she didn't. I asked if I could take her out to celebrate. Marsha thought that would be great. I told her I knew of a great place where we could go. They had a great dinner and dance band. It would be a special evening. She thought that would be wonderful so we made plans for Friday night.

I couldn't wait. I spent my lunch hours looking for a gift for her. Finally I found a cultured pearl necklace and matching earrings I thought were beautiful.

Now all this time, Marsha had always dressed in a very conservative manner. Usually she wore a sweatshirt and jeans. If she came downstairs in her pyjamas, she always had on a robe. Never had there been any suggestion of sexual intention between us. I guess the sexual tensions were there but neither of us acted on them.

Friday night arrived. I hurried home. Reservations were for 7 pm and I didn't want to be late. When I got home, I hurried upstairs. I yelled hello to Marsha and she answered from her bedroom. I got into the shower then dressed in a clean shirt and suit. I put her present into my pocket and went downstairs.

At 6:30, I was standing at the bottom the stairs and called up to tell Marsha we had to leave soon. I heard, "Just a minute." This is usually the death wish for men. Often you can expect another 20 minutes or so. But this was Marsha. In no time her bedroom door opened and she walked along the upper hall in the dark.

Then she was at the top of the stairs. The light was dim but as she walked down the stairs, slowly she came into the light. I just stood there. Never had I seen her look like this. She was incredible.

Marsha was wearing a black cocktail dress. It was strapless and came to mid thigh. The dress was skintight and hugged her body at every curve. I never knew she had a figure like that! Her hair was curled and pulled up into at the back of her head. It took me a second to realize it but she had make up on as well. To say the least, she looked stunning.

She came down the stairs slowly and stopped on the bottom step. She had one leg in front of the other as she stuck a pose for me. "I would ask you what you think, but I think I know from the look on you face," Marsha said to me.

"I'm sorry Marsha, but you look incredible."

"Why thank you. You look good yourself!"

It was then I realized she didn't have her glasses on. "Are you wearing contacts?" I asked?

"Yes I am. Do you like?"

"You look incredible."

"I think you like." Marsha was blushing.

It was a few seconds before I could think straight. Suddenly I remembered my gift. I pulled it out of my pocket. "Here this is for you." If I didn't know better, Marsha blushed ever more.

She opened the present and her mouth dropped. "Oh Tom! This is too much! I can't....."

"Yes you can. This is for you. You've been such an incredible help around here and you deserve this. Besides, a beauty like yours deserves something beautiful."

She took the necklace out of the box and held it up to me. I took it and she reached up to her ears. Quickly her old earrings were out. Then she took her necklace off. Marsha took the pearl earrings out of the box and put them on her ears. She then turned and asked me to put the necklace on her. I undid the clasp then put it around her neck.

Marsha turned to me. She looked stunning. The necklace and earrings were perfect with her black dress. She stepped off the bottom step and leaned into me. She kissed me on the lips. It was not a "thank you" kiss because it lasted for about a minute. As she broke off the kiss, she looked me in the eyes. She had this dreamy look. "Thank you Tom. This is the nicest gift anyone has ever given to me."

"You deserve it Marsha. You look so beautiful"

"Thank you Tom. Flattery like that will get you everywhere." Marsha then smiled at me.

"Come on, we'll be late. Let's get going," I said to her. Marsha held out her hand. I took it and off we went.

I held her door open for her. Watching her get into the car was incredible. I had never seen her legs like this. Her dress rode up her legs. They we covered in black hose and look fantastic. As she sat down, she smiled up at me.

All the way to the restaurant, she smiled at me as we talked. I kept sneaking looks at her beautiful legs.

Too soon we reached the restaurant. Our table was waiting. We read the menu and place our order. Soon our drinks arrived and we talked and listened to the orchestra.

The music was magnificent. Marsha and I loved this type of music. Our appetizers came and eat as we listened to the music. I could not take my eyes off her for more than a few seconds. I could tell Marsha liked me looking at her.

After the appetizers, I asked her to dance with me. There were a few other couples on the floor. As we turned to each other, I pulled her close to me. Marsha put her head on my shoulder. It was then her perfume reached my nose. It was heavenly.

Suddenly, I felt my cock start to rise. I was holding Marsha close to me. We had never been this close before. I did not want to be embarrassed so I tried to step back a bit. Marsha looked up at me and pulled me closer. She pulled on me so my cock was in her belly. Moving her hips, my cock was being stroked against her belly. Marsha also had her tits pressed tight into my chest.

The music stopped and we just stood there. Marsha smiled and so did I. I was totally aware that my cock was rock hard. Marsha stood on her tippy toes and kissed me on the lips. "Come on Tom. I think we both need to rest." She then turned and led me back to our table. I followed very close so my hard cock would not been seen by other patrons. Several times my cock pressed into her ass as we walked. Marsha didn't flinch. She never turned around. I know she felt my cock but she was not shocked.

As we got to the table, she turned to me and kissed me on the lips. Then she looked at me and said, "I think you should sit before someone sees your hardness." I was a little shocked but quickly complied.

Our main course came and we sat and ate. Everything was good. My cock had shrunk back down. Between main course and dessert, the band was playing. Marsha reached out for my hand and made me stand. She led me to the dance floor. Before I knew what was happening, she stepped into me and we kissed. My cock rose again.

My cock was pressing into her lower belly. "Tom, I think you need some special attention." We kissed again. Slowly we started to sway to the music. My hands went behind her and we danced. The song ended and we danced to the second, then the third song. My cock only got harder as we danced. Finally, the music stopped and we just stood there looking into each other's eyes. "You're so handsome Tom."

I was taken aback. "But.... Marsha, you're so incredibly beautiful. I've never seen you look like this. You look fantastic."

"Thank you Tom. I'm happy you like." With that, she wiggled her hips pressing my cock into her belly. "Come on. Let's have dessert. I think we should eat quickly and think about getting out of here." And that's exactly what we did.

After dessert, we left the club. At the car, we stood and kissed again. Our bodies were completely pressed together. I could feel her tits in my chest and her belly on my cock. My hands were on her back and I pulled her tight into me. What a kiss that was.

When we stopped kissing, we just stood there looking at each other. "Let's go home," I said. Marsha just nodded. I opened her door and watched her get in. Again the dress rode up her legs. Only this time, it rode high enough, I could see the tops of her stay-up stockings. What a beautiful sight.

I got in and drove home. As I drove, Marsha reached out, took my hand and put it on her lap. All the way home, she held my hand.

When we got in the house, we stopped for another long kiss. Finally Marsha said, "Thank you for the most beautiful evening of my life Tom. I will never forget this night." She then leaned in and kissed me again.

After a few minutes, she stepped back and took my hand. We walked though the house and then up the stairs. Marsha went straight to my room. I turned on a little light and Marsha walked over to me. We kissed long and deep. Our tongues were in each other's mouth for the first time. My hands were all over her back. Slowly I moved them to her ass. Marsha responded by putting her hands on my ass. Both of us pulled the other toward them. Our bodies were pressed tightly together.

I don't know how long we kissed. When we stopped, I looked at Marsha and she had this dreamy look in her eyes. Her hands released my ass and I let go of hers. She turned around then said, "Please undo me." As I reached up to the little hook, I realized my hands were shaking a little. It took a bit to undo the hook. When it was done, I put my hands on her hips. "Now the zipper silly." I reached up and slid the zipper down.

Marsha turned around and slowly slid the dress off her shoulders. Inch by inch it fell. First I saw her black bra, then her panties and finally her black stay-up stockings. She stepped out of the dress and laid it on the chair. She looked so stunning.


Coming to me, she slid my jacket off my shoulders. That she put on the chair. Then she undid my tie and put that down. Next she undid my shirt and pulled the tails out of my pants. Now I only had my pants on. Marsha came to me and undid my belt and unhooked my pants. She just let them drop. I stepped out to them and kicked them toward the chair.

We then kissed again. Our hands were roaming over each other's bodies. We stopped kissing and Marsha went to my bed. She pulled the cover off and then lay down. I watched her the whole time. She lay there and smiled at me. I moved toward the bed and stopped to remove my socks. Now all I had on were my boxers. My cock however had found a way to pop out the front. Before I lay down, I slid my boxers down and off.

Lying beside Marsha, we started to kiss. Her hands were on my face. My hands were on here back. Slowly I moved my one hand around and cupped her tit. Marsha let out a soft moan. I massaged her tit and finally found her nipple. I pinched it and Marsha let out a bigger moan. Slowly her hand moved down from my face to my chest and then to my stomach. Finally she found my cock. Her hand circled my cock. It felt incredible. Slowly she started to stroke. I think it grew another 2 inches as she stroked me.




My Student Boarder



As I fondled her tit, I slipped my hand inside her bra. Her skin was so warm and soft. I could not believe how incredible her tits felt. Our kisses became harder and more determined. Our tongues we planted deeply in each other's mouth.

As we kissed, I decided I wanted to touch her pussy. I slipped my hand out of her bra and went down to her hip. Marsha knew what I wanted and rolled backward a little so my hand could pass between us. I touched her stomach and moved between her legs. Marsha opened her legs and my fingers crossed over her mound. I could feel the heat and the warmth from her pussy juices and I was not over her pussy yet.

Slowly I moved lower. My fingers were getting hotter and hotter from the heat from her pussy. I could not believe how wet her panties were. I started to rub her pussy through her panties. Marsha moved her hips a little so my fingers were rubbing her pussy. She was getting wetter and wetter as I rubbed.

Marsha's hand was all over my cock now. She was stroking me vigorously. I decided to slip a finger under her panties. I worked on the elastic of the leg opening and got my finger inside. I touched her pussy lips for the first time. Marsha stopped stroking me, let go and rolled onto her back. Her legs were open. She was giving me full access to her pussy. I took every advantage of the situation. My finger found her slit and I started to move along her pussy. Her fat pussy lips easily yielded to my touch and my finger was completely surrounded by her hot wet flesh.

The tip of my finger found the opening and slowly I pushed inside of her. I could not believe how tight her pussy was. Her muscles clamped tight around my finger. We lay there kissing with my finger slowly fucking her pussy.

Eventually she reached out and found my cock again and she resumed stroking me. It felt incredible.

Marsha's muscles relaxed a little as we kissed. I decided to put a second finger inside of her. Marsha stopped stroking me as she felt my finger start to enter her. It took a little time but eventually my second finger was in her. Marsha rolled her head slowly from side to side. I pulled my fingers out of her a little then pushed them back in. Marsha started to moan. I increased the pace of the finger fucking. She moaned a little louder. Eventually she started to hump her hips up off the bed to meet my fingers.

I bet we did this for half an hour. Marsha I think came 2 times. She eventually remembered my cock and started stroking again.

After she came for the second (or was it the third) time, she opened her eyes and told me, "Take off my panties Tom." What man would not comply with that request? After I slid them off, I could see she was shaved perfectly smooth.

Marsha then rolled over a little and told me to unhook her bra. This I did more easily than I did her dress.

When she rolled onto her back, Marsha took her bra off. What an incredible beauty she was. I sat up and just looked at her. I leaned over and kissed her tits. Her nipples were rock hard and I kissed them and sucked them into my mouth. Marsha loved this. My hand found her pussy again. I was kissing first one tit then the other. My tongue was licking all over her.

After about 5 minutes of this heavenly activity, Marsha said to me, "Tom, I want you inside of me." No man needs to have that explained to him. Marsha had her legs open so I climbed with my knees between her legs. I took my cock and slowly slid the tip along her pussy. She was still incredibly wet. I slid my cock from her clit to her ass. Marsha had closed her eyes and loved every minute of this attention.

After my tenth or fifteenth pass, I stopped at the center of her pussy. The tip of my cock was slightly pressed into her. Her muscles had yielded a little for me. I pushed forward and my cock started to enter her. She was still very tight. I pulled out and then pushed back in. I don't know but I did this maybe 20 times before I was half way into her. Her pussy was getting looser.

The next time I pushed in, I met some resistance. I stopped and pulled out. I pushed in again. What ever was causing the resistance stopped me again. I just held still for a second. Marsha opened her eyes and looked at me. "Go ahead Tom. Push in hard."

I was a little confused. It took me maybe two seconds before it dawned on me. I opened my mouth and started to say, "You mean......"

"Yes Tom, I am a virgin and I want you to take me tonight. I want you to be my first. Now push in hard and take my virginity."

I was speechless. I had never imagined. You hear all these stories about farm girls. "Come on Tom. Please take me. Make me a woman. Make me yours!"

I pulled out and held still with just the head of my cock in her pussy. I looked at Marsha and she smiled at me. "Do it now. Push in and take me." I held still for a second more then pushed in hard.

Marsha let out a little yelp from the pain. I was buried deep inside of her and I held still. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm fine. Fuck me now. I want to feel your cum in my pussy."

I was a little shocked. Marsha had never used words like this before. I like to hear them though. It made her seem sexier to me. I pulled out and drove in again. This time the resistance was gone. A couple of stroke more and Marsha closed her eyes. I could tell she was starting to enjoy the fucking.

I didn't last long. My cock was fully primed with all the foreplay. I started to pump her fast and hard. I don't think I lasted one minute before my cock erupted. I pumped all my cum deep into her belly. I don't think Marsha came though. I was too quick.

When I finished, I fell on top of her. Marsha put her arms around my back. After a few minutes I asked, "How are you?"

"I'm fine. A little sore but fine."

"I never thought you were a virgin."

"I know. I just never found the right man until tonight." We started to kiss. Marsha's fine tits were pressed into my chest. My cock was still in her pussy. As we kissed, my cock regained its strength.

I started to pump her pussy again. This time was a slow fuck. My cock stayed hard for a long time. Marsha came before me this time.

This was the start of a new phase in our relationship. Marsha moved into my bed that night. I think it was about a month later that I realized I was madly in love with her. Our engagement was short. We were married 6 months after that first night. We have been together now for 30 years and the sex only gets better and better. Marsha loves to experiment. She is an expert cock sucker and loves anal. I buy her little skirts and sexy panties. She loves to wear them and let me fuck her whenever I want. What an incredible woman I found.



My Student Ch. 02



[Editor's note: Thanks for the great feedback, love to hear more! Also thank you to MasterofConrtol2003 for your help with editing yet again. Not much sex in this short chapter, building for the date Friday. I suggest you read the first hot chapter in this series before starting this, or it may not make much sense.]



I knew exactly what I wanted from him, my pussy boy, and could hardly wait for Friday to come around. I continued to play it cool, however, not wanting to give myself away. I met with Andy the next morning, went over my ground rules regarding his ongoing submission to me, but didn't have class with him that day and left quickly.

Chemistry class Wednesday morning was...well... interesting. Though it was early in the semester, I was already bored with the class, despite it being a requirement for my major. So, I wasn't paying that much attention; instead, I studied Andy.

He was not what I would call handsome, but fairly good looking. His big grin is what gives him away as not a man but just a big kid at heart. He had dark reddish-brown hair, average height, and a medium build with just a hint of muscles beneath his shirt. 

I think what I enjoyed most about him was his passion, both for teaching and for science. He had a fire burning inside that would have been evident to anyone watching him ...on a typical day, anyway; today he was clearly distracted.

I had to work quite hard at not laughing out loud as I watched him fumble through class. As he was lecturing, he would use his hands to gesture or demonstrate. Then, he would suddenly realize what he was doing and quickly clasp them behind his back as I had ordered. Each time he did this he would look at me, causing him to lose his train of thought almost every time. Watching him was priceless; I imagined him breathing a sigh of relief once class was over.

Physics class was a different story. These students were already serious scientists so there was no way he could bluff though this one. Today the students were giving him grief over one particular theory, demanding every nuance of the logic behind its origins. The grilling he was taking would probably be enough to fluster any novice teacher, and I enjoyed watching him squirm. 

By the look he gave me I knew he was lost again as he struggled to put a coherent sentence together. His pleading eyes were begging me for my assistance. I let him struggle for another moment before I spoke up, explaining the theory and its establishment as thoroughly as I could recall from my personal studies. 

I did not wait for him after class but drove quickly instead to his home. I concentrated on my anger with his reliance on me to bail him out. I didn't want to calm down before I had a chance to express myself. Some anger with a new submissive is often helpful to cement their obedience. I parked a few houses down and watched as he pulled up and quickly went inside. I gave him a moment to prepare himself for me before getting out of my car and walking up to his door.

He left the door unlocked, as I had instructed. I entered the house and there he was: naked, kneeling, waiting for me. I closed the door and stepped around him, generally ignoring him. I quietly walked around, surveying the small, tidy house before returning to the entryway to address him.

"I'm certainly going to have to start doing my homework if you expect me to be teaching your class." I was pissed, and it came through in my voice.

He ducked his head before mumbling, "I'm sorry Mistress, I -"

I cut him off by slapping him across the face, knocking him hard enough that he had to put a hand out to steady himself. "Shut up!" I warned. Begging was one thing, but I couldn't tolerate sniveling. "You do not have permission to speak."

He wisely held his tongue. I stormed around for another moment, looking for a suitable punishment. Finding nothing readily available I snapped my fingers at him. In a tight voice, I said "Show me your bedroom, pussy boy."

He stood and scrambled ahead of me leading the way down a dark hallway and into the bedroom. I left him at the door and proceeded into the interior to explore. I wandered into the attached bathroom and found what must have been his wife's hairbrush. I returned to the bedroom and ordered him to lean over the bed, which he did.

"Just like a naughty student, I think you deserve a paddling for being unprepared for class. Do you dispute this corrective action?" I hissed into his ear.

"No Mistress," he replied meekly.

I smiled, and without further ado gave him several hard smacks with the small but hard make-shift paddle. He had not anticipated my blows and let out an audible cry at their onslaught. I struck him about a dozen times on his right ass cheek before pausing to stroke my hands over his warmed skin. He took several deep breaths but I was not finished. 

I stepped back and to his other side, moving the brush to my other hand. I stretched back before striking again, raining down another dozen blows before pausing. His breathing was coming in more raggedly now but he was still too composed for my tastes. I switched sides again and struck once more with a dozen blows.

He was now moaning and groaning with each blow, quietly, trying to keep it to himself. I felt that I was finally getting through to him though I was not done yet. Switching sides one final time, I gave him another dozen blows with all of my strength. When I stopped I could hear him crying and I knew I had done my job well. He had taken nearly 50 blows, and I'm not sure I would have had the energy for more even if he had needed it.

I put the brush back in its place and returned to sit on the bed near his head. I let him cry for a minute, stroking his hair, until he was able to regain his composure. He looked up at me with big eyes, slightly embarrassed. I smiled down at him. I was much calmer myself now and that helped relax him. 

"Don't worry," I consoled him. "It won't always be like this. In fact if you behave yourself and do your own job then it will be relatively rare."

"Yes Mistress," he mumbled.

I smiled even more and said softly, "Rare, but not gone completely. Sometimes the mood just takes me and I can't help myself. I need an outlet, and for the time being, that will be your role."

He seemed a little shaken by this but still managed a "Yes Mistress."

I reclined back on the bed while I mused about the situation. "On your knees, boy. Stroke yourself for me." His cock had gone completely soft with the paddling, but I was confident he would be able to recover. He began stroking immediately. I watched him for a moment before questioning him, "So aside from the obvious, how were your classes this week? Are you having difficulty with your 'assignments'?"

"Yes Mistress," he answered without hesitation. "I have been a wreck. Whenever I put my hands behind my back I am reminded of you. I think of how you had me kneeling between your legs licking your pussy while you held me captive. It's on my mind morning, noon and night, Mistress." 

His open, honest admission made me smile. I glanced pointedly down at his hand stroking his now erect cock and ordered him to stop. "And Friday?"

He ducked his head before answering, "I told my wife I'm going fishing with my friend Matt."

Now that was an interesting development. "You mean OUR old friend Matt?" He nodded his head, blushing. I had been dating Matt the first time I met Andy, and still see him regularly. Very interesting indeed. "Does Matt know you're using him for an excuse?"

Andy answered quietly, not meeting my eyes. "No Mistress. I didn't know how to explain the situation to him." 

I laughed out loud, causing him to look up at me. I reached down to stroke his cock now, slowly, teasingly. "I didn't know you two were still in contact." He nodded, mouth hanging open, but made no sound.

I could tell he was quite aroused as I stroked him. I reminded him, "I don't know what you're getting all worked up about, boy. You're still not allowed to come until at least Friday."

He raised his head to look at me now, pleading in his eyes. I laughed at my control of him, giving him a few more strokes before asking, "Where does your wife keep her toys, pussy boy?"

He seemed slightly taken aback by this question. "She doesn't have any, Mistress."

"No, huh?" I mumbled, turning to the nightstand and opening the drawer. Not finding what I was looking for I closed it and leaned over the side of the bed, feeling underneath. My hand encountered a hard object which I pulled up to my level. "Just what I thought," I smiled, opening the box to find some candles, a cheap bottle of lube, and a nice compact vibrator.

I laughed at the expression on Andy's face, mouth hanging open. "What do you think she does while you're jerking off in the shower, boy? A girl needs her release. Now, go get my purse from the hallway."

He quickly left to obey me while I replaced her box. I shed my jeans and sweater, laying back against the pillows in my matching pink lace bra and panties. When Andy came back in, his erection bobbing before him, he almost tripped over his own feet as he watched me. I smiled, taking the purse from him and instructing him to kneel on the bed between my feet.

I rummaged through my purse until I found the bag containing my vibrator. Andy swallowed hard, watching intently as I pulled it out of the bag. I held the vibe in one hand, using the other to rub my chest, teasing my nipples to a point through the lace of my bra. I looked at him in the eyes, "Stroke yourself again for me, pussy boy."

I watched as he spat onto his hand before wrapping it around his hard cock. I continued looking into his eyes while my hand came down to tease my pussy, brushing along my panties, molding the material to my inner folds. He moaned, sending shivers through my body. I turned the vibe on low and brought it to my pussy, still teasing myself through my panties. My other hand returned to my chest, squeezing and teasing my nipples. He moaned again and I joined him this time.

"Don't you come, boy," I warned him.

"Yes Mistress," he replied, slowing his stroking.

I slipped my hand into my panties, using the vibe on my clit. Watching him kneeling there beneath me had me feeling so hot. I watched him panting, focusing on the feeling in my clit as I turned the vibe speed up. I could feel my orgasm building. It was so close.

"Mistress," he moaned at me, and that did it, my whole body trembling with the shock waves of my orgasm. I bit my lip, trying to prolong and extend it. Eventually it came to a stop, and I opened my eyes. 

"Stop," I ordered him, sensing his orgasm was close as well. I lay there for a moment, catching my breath, trying to regain my composure. Eventually I was able to sit up, handing him my vibe. "Wash this for me, boy."

He took the toy from me, turning it over in his hand. He got up and went to the bathroom. I dressed myself, letting my eyes wander around the room. He returned and I took the vibe back, placing it in my bag and taking him by the hand. 

I led him to the front door where I stopped to give him an Earth-shaking kiss, keeping my body at a distance to avoid his hard cock. I walked out the door without a word or a backward glance. Friday couldn't come soon enough.

My Student Chap 2



My Student Ch. 03



[Editor's note: Still not much sex in this chapter, but we're getting deeper into the domination. I suggest you read the first hot chapter in this series before starting this, or it may not make much sense.]



Friday couldn't come soon enough. My every waking hour was consumed by thoughts of her, my Mistress. Even in sleep my dreams were flooded with images of her. Images of me kneeling at her feet, worshiping her from between her thighs, my mouth watering at the remembrance of her kiss.

That I would go away with her on Friday was something that I never even thought to question. It was a need, a desire, a wish and prayer I would see fulfilled. I was a wreck at school, lost in thoughts of her sitting in my classroom. I was a wreck at home, absolutely on edge near my wife, certain she would see through me. 

And I was horny! I had never been so hot and bothered in all my life! As a married man, it was not unusual for me to go a week without sex, but with thoughts of my Mistress filling my head I found myself constantly at least half-hard. Frequently, especially standing in class with my hands clasped behind my back, I found myself fully hard, and in an uncomfortable position of trying to conceal it.

Often in the shower, early in the morning before I was fully awake, I would stroke myself, my balls boiling for a release. But, inevitably, I would come to full consciousness and stop myself before going too far, against her orders. I would willingly live with the disappointment of those early-morning jack-off sessions, counting down the hours until I would be alone with her again.

I had classes Friday, so we had agreed to meet in the late afternoon. I was early, anxiously waiting for her arrival. When she got into my car I could barely contain myself. With few words she directed me onto the freeway before tuning the radio and sitting back in her seat. She seemed calm and content, so I didn't feel the need to fill the silence with conversation, though I couldn't help stealing frequent glances in her direction.

She hadn't felt the need to fill me in on where we were going, but her attire indicated to me she was ready to go out on the town. She was wearing a black cotton dress that came several inches above her knee, sexy without being slutty. She had some amazing black leather heeled boots with a thin gold chain hanging daintily from each ankle, a matching chain circling her waist, and another around her neck, teasing me from between her cleavage. 

She wore minimal makeup and left her long auburn hair hanging past her shoulders in soft, inviting curls. And her perfume! Oh my God, I think I could be addicted to the way she smelled. It was a soft, sweet, musky scent that invaded my senses without being over-whelming. Whatever it was, it was driving me wild!

As we left the city, she seemed to relax even further. She took my hand in hers, just holding it in her lap. She noticed my sideways looks at her and gave me a smile. She continued directing me, and in less than an hour we had arrived at the next large town. She steered me through town expertly, having obviously spent time here, until we reached a nice, out-of-the-way restaurant. 

It was still only early evening, so we were able to enjoy a nice, quiet meal, talking and flirting like kids on a date. Between the flirting we discussed science, of course, as well as politics and literature. She had a very bright mind which attracted me as much as her personality and body. I found myself wondering for the thousandth time who this young woman was and where had she come from?

When we finished our leisurely meal she again directed me through town, until we reached a quiet neighborhood. We parked in the driveway of a small, non-descript, two-story house and brought our bags to the door. She let herself in with a key, turning lights on as she went through the house.

"Is this your house?" I couldn't help but ask, knowing that was unlikely.

"No," was her short reply as she walked into the kitchen. She opened a cupboard and took out a glass, filling it with water from the tap. She did not elaborate, but was clearly comfortable in the house. I looked around, hoping to find a clue, but couldn't even determine if the house belonged to a man or a woman. 

She watched me as I looked around, leaning against the counter. The flirty atmosphere was gone, replaced by her calculating gaze. She seemed to appraise me for a moment before speaking, "Take off your shirt." It wasn't said with any force, but it also wasn't a request. 

I unbuttoned my shirt, a little startled at her direction. She took another drink of water, watching me. I slipped the shirt from my shoulders, trying to determine where I should place it, and settled on the back of a kitchen chair. I stood before her, unsure if I should be doing something else, as she continued to gaze steadily into my eyes. 

She eventually broke the eye contact to look down at my now bare chest, and I had never in my life felt as naked. Her eyes raked across my exposed skin, desire radiating between us. It felt as though her gaze penetrated, seeing everything I had to bare. My nipples hardened to her, my skin constricting from exposure, before returning to our eye-contact with a slight smile on her face.

Just looking at her, seeing the lust evident in her eyes, was more than enough to excite me and make me hard. I'm not sure how long we stood like that, it could have been seconds, but it may have been an hour. The tension mounted between us, neither moving closer to the other, yet growing ever more intimate in the silence. Though separated by a distance of several feet, I am certain I could feel our mingled body heat growing warmer in the space between. 

Her smile grew, and I knew she was pleased with my silent, motionless submission as I fought my body to remain still and exposed. She set her now empty glass down on the counter and approached me. She glanced down at my bare chest again before taking my hand and leading me back to the front room. She had me pick up her bag and bring it with us as she led me upstairs. 

We went down the hall into the last room. The room was an interesting cross between a functional bedroom and adult toy store. There were wood floors throughout the house, and this room had an interesting assortment of toys laid out on a side table, as well as a double bed against the far wall.

She brought me to the center of the room where she kissed me deeply. Each time we kissed felt like the first time, and I never wanted it to end. But invariably it did, and I was always disappointed. She stepped back from me, that teasing smile on her face. 

She took something from the table and returned to me with a cloth strip. As she stepped behind me I thought she was going to tie my wrists, but she instead surprised me by placing it over my eyes and tying it firmly behind my head. Next I felt her hands at my fly, opening my pants and lowering them along with my briefs. I stood there passively, wanting to cover my mostly erect cock, but knowing she would not approve. I felt even more awkward by having my pants pooled around my ankles.

I could hear her drag a chair away from the wall and felt it press against the back of my legs. Her hands on my shoulders pushed me down onto the seat. There was more rummaging on the table behind me, and I was not surprised when she came back with a pair of handcuffs. She pulled my hands behind my back before securing them with the cuffs. She kissed me, one of her deep, slow, lingering kisses. After our lip contact was broken, her tongue remained, teasing and dueling with my own. I was panting by the time she pulled away.

She walked away, and I could again hear more rummaging. She returned to me, though, without additional restraints. I could feel her breath on my skin as she whispered into my ear. "Sorry, love, I need to run out to the car. I'll be right back." 

I listened as she walked away; I could hear the front door open, and after a long moment it closed again. She was gone for several minutes, and I began to grow nervous. All of my insecurities surfaced as I thought of how badly things could go awry from this point. I thought I might go crazy, my wait seemed endless. Then, to my immense relief, I heard the door again, and knew she hadn't abandoned me.

As I sat, naked and bound, blindfolded and waiting in anticipation, I felt rather than heard her draw near. I felt her warmth next to my body, could smell her deliciously sweet and musky scent, and then – suddenly - I could taste her as well. Her lips pressed against mine in what started as a slow, sensual kiss before quickly building in intensity. Her lips were so soft, but they were nothing compared to the contrast of her tongue. Her warm, moist tongue was so soft and skillful, but also held three amazing tongue rings to tease and torture me. 

Before I had had my fill, she broke the kiss and pulled away, though I could still feel her nearby. The next sensation I felt was enough to make me gasp as her mouth encircled my cock head and sucked gently. She licked, kissed and caressed my glans for an incredible few minutes, before breaking off. I longed for her to take me into her throat, but dared not voice my request.

She kissed me again, but it was much more intense this time, as our mouths attempted to devour each other. Her tongue thrust against mine, her hand wrapped around my head, forcing my mouth against hers. Her breath was hot on my cheek, as mine was no doubt against hers. This kiss lasted longer than the first, but again she broke it off before I would have liked.

This time she went down on my cock in a much different fashion. She was done with the licking and kissing. This time she swiftly swallowed my cock down to the base, stroking up and down, sucking me deeply before pulling almost all of the way off. The way she was switching between my mouth and my cock, between gentle teasing and intense sucking, was driving me mad. I moaned out loud, unable to control myself even if I had wanted to. 

She startled me then, enough that my whole body gave a jerk. My cock was still experiencing the great sucking pleasure, when suddenly and simultaneously her mouth was again on mine. I know it was her I was kissing, I could tell by the tongue rings. Who then was on my cock??

I tried to protest, but with her mouth on mine it came out merely as muffled grunts. The mouth on my cock went to work with even more vigor, pumping faster, driving me closer. I knew I would not last long, and so quickly gave up my struggles, deciding to just go with it. My Mistress' hands were on my nipples now, squeezing rhythmically.

I could hear other moans in the room and wondered what was possibly going on around me. She broke our kiss, causing me to groan out. I could hear her chuckle near my ear as she bit my lobe gently. The mouth on my cock continued pumping my shaft, now adding a hand to squeeze my balls as well. 

Her lips were on my ear as she spoke to me. "I want you to come, pussy boy. Can you do that for me?"

"Oooh, yes Mistress!" was my protracted reply.

"Good boy," she breathed into my ear before once again capturing my mouth with hers while the other mouth continued to work my cock. I found myself thinking back to the first time I saw her in action, making me even hotter in the present. She broke the kiss off to whisper in my ear again, "Now, pussy boy! Come for me now!"

What could I possibly do but comply with her demands? As soon as I heard the word 'now' I felt the flood gates releasing, and I began to gush a copious amount of white hot come. I groaned out loud, to the delight of my Mistress who chuckled in my ear. I still had no idea whose mouth was on my spewing cock, but at that moment I couldn't care less.

Eventually I calmed and the sucking mouth removed itself from my softening member. I remained hand cuffed to the chair, but I felt the other two step away from me. I heard movement in the room, but I dared not say anything. I was panting, trying to recover, but strained my ears to listen as well. After a few minutes my Mistress returned to me and removed the hand cuffs.

She moved around in front of me, straddling my lap. She gave me another kiss, soft and gentle again. She removed my blindfold as she pulled away and stood up. "Take a shower, boy, you smell like sex. Put on the clothes on the bed and meet me downstairs. You have five minutes." With that she turned and walked away.

I pulled my pants up from the floor, still recovering from my experience, and made my way to the bathroom. She had wanted me to hurry, so I took a mostly cold shower, and returned to the bedroom/ playroom as quickly as I could. 

The outfit she left me was really nothing exceptional. Black jeans that fit me well without being too loose or tight, no underwear, a black cotton tee shirt, white socks and black boots. These were all things I was comfortable wearing, despite them not being my clothes. 

The only article that was new to me was a hood of sorts, or you might call it a mask. It fit tightly over my head like a cap, but came down over my face to my nose. I could see through the eye holes just fine, but that intoxicating smell of leather was almost overwhelming, and I felt my cock begin to stir, despite the cold shower.

Knowing my time would be nearly up, I forced myself not to dawdle and left the room. When I came downstairs I could hear her in the kitchen, giggling. I stopped short, seeing her leaning against the counter, a man pressed against the length of her body, his mouth moving against the side of her neck.

She didn't see me immediately, but soon enough. I'm certain I still had the startled, mouth-hanging-open expression on my face, because my mind had literally frozen. I simply couldn't process what I was seeing and what the implications would be.

Upstairs, with the blindfold, I had been so focused on the physical sensations of it all, the physical pleasure, that I really didn't give much thought to what was actually going on. I ignored the fact that another mouth probably meant another person. And another person could just as easily mean a man as a woman. As much as I enjoyed it, I definitely didn't give any consideration to who might be attached to that other mouth.

Her eyes met mine over the shoulder of the man, but she just smiled evilly at me, pulling his head further into her neck with a hand in his hair. "Did you enjoy yourself, pussy boy?"

I wagged my jaw a bit, trying to find my voice, "Yes," I eventually croaked out before clearing my throat and trying again. "Yes, Mistress, thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me, I'm not the one who swallowed your load." With that she released the man who was pressed against her and turned him toward me. I realized quickly that we were dressed to match, including identical masks. He made eye contact with me as she continued, "You can thank my pet for that, pussy boy."

By the way she looked at me expectantly I knew she wanted me to say something. I looked between the two of them for a moment, a million thoughts running through my head: jealousy, disgust, denial, curiosity, more jealousy. I'm not sure what she sensed from behind my mask, but she shoved him forward, until he was standing just in front of me.

I cleared my throat, trying to calm my nerves. "Th-Thank you," I stammered out. He held his hand out to me, which I shook, looking again back to my Mistress.

"Oh relax," she said, rolling her eyes at me. "You are much more his type than I am. But my pet and I go way back, and he does know how to please his Mistress." Unsurprisingly, these words did nothing to comfort me. He was still standing directly in front of me, my hand in his, and he gave me a slight sneer. 

I pulled my hand away, turning back to my Mistress, but had no notion of what to say. She solved that by stepping closer and placing a hand on each of our shoulders, pushing down slightly. "Kneel," she ordered.

The other guy, her pet, scrambled into what was obviously a well practiced pose. I, however, simply knelt, looking up at her. "Hands laced behind your head, boy, and spread your knees." I did as she asked, somewhat awkwardly, but accomplished it none the less. "Very good," she beamed at me, and I couldn't help but smile at her praise, almost forgetting the situation.

She turned to the counter and came back with a strip of leather in her hand. This she placed around the other guys' neck and I could hear a CLICK as she locked the collar in place. She picked another up from the counter and held it before me. "Do you know what this is, pussy boy?"

"A collar, Mistress."

"And do you know what it means?"

I swallowed hard. Yes, I knew what it meant. "Ownership, Mistress."

She smiled again, "And are you ready to wear my collar, pussy boy?"

My mind was still racing, but now thoughts of my wife were intruding. Even so, my body tingled at the mere possibility of what being owned by my Mistress might mean. "Yes, Mistress." I hadn't finished thinking yet, where did that come from? "Please." 

She came forward and put the thick leather collar around my neck. I felt her slide the lock though the closure and shuddered as I felt and heard the CLICK.



My Student Government Girl



She was in student government, as was I. 

It was a big university, so I am not sure exactly which part of the student government she was directly affiliated with, but regardless I had seen her around a few times. One of our shared acquaintances had introduced us – they had come into the restaurant I was working at near the campus. It was in a retail district just a few blocks away from the most western edge of the campus, right up against the foothills and then mountains. There were a number of bars, a few restaurants, a concert venue, a pool hall, and of course an oversized bookstore with concurrently overpriced books.

The student government hottie and I ran into each other one night at one of the bars in town, both fairly drunk. We had kissed a bit at the end of the night then shared a cab home, but when the cab got to her house she did not let me come in and instead gave me her number and a peck on the cheek. 

Fast-forward to the next weekend with a string of text messages in the meantime, and I met her out again with some of her friends. Immediately we began slamming drinks. Back then it was all shots and mixed drinks of course – Red bull vodkas and chilled shots of whiskey. In no time, we were all quite inebriated.

We found ourselves in a cab at the end of the night this time as well, her roommate, a boy her roommate was talking to, my student government hotty, and myself. I paid the cab driver and followed the others up the stairs to the girls' front porch. As we walked to the door, I saw a hot tub on the left. The student government hotty and I went into the house as she made me another drink. While sipping on my drink we started to hear voices and splashing water out on the porch – it looked like her roommate and the guy had quickly gone back outside and jumped in the hot tub. Do not pass go, do not get changed into swimsuits, it was just the two of them out there. She was in her bra and panties, and he must be in his boxers. 

The student government hotty went outside and I followed just a few moments after. She must have immediately started stripping down herself as when I came out she was climbing into the water, and now it was two girls in their bras and panties in the water with one guy. As I turned to set my drink down on the table next to the front door, I felt a tug on my coat. The student government hot girl had reached out to grab me, and my coat was being pulled off while dragging me backwards to the water, while the girls yelled at me to get in. She was so insistent and wouldn't let go, luckily I still had my wits about me and quickly tossed my phone on the table, then somehow got my watch and shoes off before the back of my legs hit the side of the hot tub and I fell in. 

There I was then, soaked, nearly fully clothed, with two girls showing a whole lot of skin and some guy I had never met. On the front porch of their house in a hot tub, at about 2:30am. All of us drunk. 

I peeled off my shirt, and took off my pants then tossed those out of the tub onto the porch as she got up on my lap and quickly planted her lips on mine. We kissed each other passionately, and sloppily of course, we were quite drunk but each wanting the other badly. 

I reached down under the water and pulled my now hard cock out of my boxers and pushed her panties to the side. She stopped kissing me, said "Oh", then started kissing me harder as I pressed the head of my thick hard cock up against her pussy lips, searching for the entrance to what I now could feel must be a very wet hole indeed. You know how it is, that slickness just inside her pussy lips that is definitely not water as it just has a different feel. Knowing that she wanted me, wanted my cock, inside her badly, I used my index and middle fingers of my left hand to find her pussy hole as my pinky and ring finger kept her panties pulled to the side. With my right hand, I was holding her as she leaned back pressing her pelvis into mine as my fingers finally pushed deep inside her. As I lined my cock up and pressed it up against her tight hole, the head parting her pussy lips just slightly, I also reached up with my right hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair – pulling her head back and down a little. Her face was pointing towards the ceiling as her mouth opened and gasped when my cock thrust deep inside her tight wet throbbing pussy, filling and stretching her. 

Immediately she began grinding her hips against me, trying to take my dick deeper, as she looked down at me, her hair falling over her shoulders and her moan now being heard over the sound of the hot tub jets. 

Of course, the roommate and the other guy heard her cry out and turned to look at us. They quickly got out of the hot tub and went into the house, where I am sure they started in on their own fun and at the time I was fine with it, in fact I barely noticed them getting out, but as I look back I would have far preferred they watch me fuck this smart hot student government nerd with the big tits and full lips. 

Regardless, as the tub was now all ours, I used my free hand to reach back and unhook her bra, letting her massive firm tits out – they must have been a D cups at least – and quickly licked and sucked on them, nibbling her nipples. 

I gripped her hair tighter with the other hand and pulled her off me, dragging her over to the edge of the tub and pushing her over it, so her ass was in the air. I pulled her head back, with her tits hanging down over the edge and her back now arched, pressed the head of my dick up against her smooth wet pussy lips and said, "Tell me." 

She was gasping for breath since I had forcefully thrown her up against the edge of the hot tub, and looking back over her shoulder at me with pure animal lust. "Please," she whispered. 

"Please what," I said

"Please hurt me with that dick," she begged. 

"Hurt you where slut?" 

"In all of my holes daddy," she whimpered. "My entire body is yours, made for your pleasure. But please, please fuck this pussy with your huge cock."

With that, I thrust my thick hard perfectly shaped dick into her tight slick pussy hole, pushing all the way in with a single stroke. She gasped as I hit bottom, the head of my cock bumping against her cervix, my smooth balls slapping into her clit. I grabbed her head by her hair again, and pulled it back, riding her hard as I kept pounding, the water in the hot tub beginning to slosh around and over the edge of the tub. 

I kept pounding into her, harder and deeper, pushing her further up against the edge of the tub, her tits pressed against the wall, her moans and screams getting louder as I took her roughly, brutally. 

"Fuck daddy, show your little girl what she is good for," she screamed out between moans. 

She pleaded with me to empty my balls into her pussy, but I was concerned the lust had taken her too far and she would do or say absolutely anything to get my cum inside her cunt. She assured me she was on the pill and in college with no plans to have children any time soon. With that, I pushed her hard up against the side of the tub again, then pulled her hips back so she was bent over, her tits pressed into the edge of the tub this time. I thrust my cock back into her, hard, forcing her to grip the side of the tub to keep from being pushed out. Then started pounding into her with everything I had, my full weight slamming into her, my balls slapping into her pussy and clit, the water of the tub falling out of the tub everywhere with the waves our bodies were making, her head now bumping into the hard plastic and fiberglass of the inside of the hot tub as her body became more like a rag doll under the punishment I was giving her. I had both hands on her hips, pulling her back into me as I thrust in, but after a few deep hard strokes reached up with one hand and grabbed her hair again, my other staying on her hip. I pulled her head back by her hair, riding her hard, and then told her, "Beg." 

"Beg me to stretch your cunt out with this thick hard perfect cock slut, and then empty my balls into your cunt, filling your pussy hole with my cum," I told her. 

"Fuck me harder!" she screamed out. 

"Beg me fucktoy!" I yelled at her again.

"Cum in my pussy," she begged. "Please cum in me."

As I thrust into her again, even harder, feeling the head of my cock slam up against her cervix, she screamed out, "Fill this pussy with your cum!"

I was wasted still, so I could have kept going for a lot longer but her words were bringing me close to orgasm. She looked at me with a wild look in her eyes, again pure lust, and said, "Cum inside me, cum inside my pussy. Empty those balls into me. Please, I need it. I need you to fill and stretch my cunt with your cock. Please Daddy!"

This pushed me over the edge, and I slammed into her once more before blowing my load, emptying my balls into her. I could feel my cock twitch every time cum spurt out into that well-fucked pussy. "Fuck" I grunted while emptying myself into her, holding her there for what seemed like minutes as I kept filling her cunt with my jizz, then pulled out with an audible squishing sound and sat back on the side of the tub, catching my breath. 

She collapsed a little, laying her chest on the side of the tub. I watched as her chest rose and fell with her still heavy breathing, and as she slowly reached between her legs with one hand, pushing two fingers deep into her red raw pussy, and scooped out my cum...and quickly brought her cum covered fingers to her mouth to taste me. 

"Fuck, you taste so good daddy." She said to me, dazed from the pounding she just took. 

That is when I told her, "Come here."

And as she turned around and crawled over to me, I made her get down on her knees in the water. She looked up into me eyes, reached out with her hand to grip the base of my now softening cock, and asked, "Please daddy may I clean your cock off with my mouth?"

I nodded to her, and she opened her mouth while leaning forward, and wrapped her lips around my dick, sucking out the last drops of cum and swirling her tongue to get all of her pussy juice mixed with my jizz.

Deeply content, I leaned back as she started to bob her head, while stroking her hair with one hand, my other on the side of the tub, and said, "Good girl."