6 comments/  39188 views/  3 favorites

A Professor of Two Minds

By: professor_jim



Melissa could have never have known what I was thinking. 

She had no idea, sitting in my dull classroom with a group of students who could care less about this course on Western Civilization, that when she looked at me and entertained quick, sexy daydreams, that I was doing the same. 

How could she have known? Here I was, in my tenth year at the university, struggling to explain the ins and outs of the struggle between King Henry IV and Pope Gregory VII in 1076. While I thought this was fascinating a good 20 years ago as an undergraduate, the passion for the Middle Ages had faded, to say the least. 

By this point in my career, teaching was supposed to be little more than an annoyance. What I really needed to be doing was finishing my book, a close study of crime among the Burgundian peasants in the 12th century France. Most of the time, even I could barely remember why I wrote my dissertation on this obscure topic. 

The students sitting in my classroom should have been an inert mass, a mob to blather to for 3 hours a week and then forget about as I got to my research and writing, which is what would earn me tenure. But for some reason, I couldn't treat teaching that way. I loved it, loved talking about the past, loving teaching the students to think in new ways, to challenge themselves, to examine their preconceptions about the past. I should have mailed it in, but I couldn't. 

Even on my most jaded days, there was something liberating about standing before a room of students and using my words to open new worlds to them. 

And the students, bless their hearts, appreciated it—a good looking young professor teaching a required course who actually gave a damn. So often, their semester-end course evaluations began—"I thought I was going to hate this class, but....." I still enjoyed the rewards of turning on young minds, even if only a few per class. 

So when Melissa sat there in the second row, right in the middle where she always sat, and listened, and thought, and took notes, and grinned at my lame jokes, and, during the boring bits ever so occasionally allowed herself to fantasize about being with this professor, she couldn't have possibly known that he would sometimes allow himself to fantasize too. 

To a teacher, it's very interesting to see himself through a student's eyes. Professors have to perform several times a week. A good teacher, and even a bad teacher, has to put together a performance for each class. The eyes of 20 or 50 or 200 students are on him the entire time. They notice his demeanor, his mood, his gait, his pace, voice. In their minds, they critique his clothing, his hair, his shoes. If they like him, they reflect on his shoulders, his face, his eyes, his charisma or lack thereof, the way he moves. 

What's most interesting is that after 10 years of lecturing several times a week, leading discussions, answering questions, I've developed a certain skill. I can look a pretty female student in the eyes and answer her question about Martin Luther while simultaneously imagining her stripping in my office. I can do both these things—put together a fairly complex answer to an arcane question about the Protestant Reformation while imagining the taste of her nipples, the sound of her rapid breathing, the feel of her hands in my hair, the feel of her full lips on the head of my cock. 

I can do both these things while standing at a podium in a lecture hall in front of 65 people, revealing only one half of mind. I think it's a pretty damned impressive skill.

And that's why Melissa could have never known what I was thinking that evening in Western Civ. Because as I lectured about Henry IV and that damned Pope, I caught Melissa's eye. Any experienced teacher can look at a student and know if they're paying attention. In this era of cell phones, lots of students don't even try to appear engaged. They stare into their laps, texting their girlfriends or frat brothers. Other students are better at it—they lock eyes with you, nod, but it's clear that they're thinking about the latest episode of American idol. 

When I caught Melissa's eye, she had that intent gaze of the intelligent student. But with that certain smile on her face she sure the hell wasn't thinking about Henry IV. She was thinking about Professor Jim. She had that little smile, the wide-open eyes, the pen in her mouth, spinning. I really couldn't blame her for daydreaming. In fact, I was flattered.

So while I talked about the Angevin dynasty, I looked at Melissa and thought about how incredibly hot she was. 

A senior, she had long brown hair, brown, piercing eyes, and strong jaw line. She played on the lacrosse team, and had a lithe, athletic body, strong shoulders and a flat belly. She walked with a confident grace, with her long legs, narrow waist, and trim, round ass. She was just the kind of student who turned me on—smart, sexy, strong—and she seemed to like me. 

As we locked eyes, I explained the religious justification that the Catholic Church used for Papal authority in some detail. But I gave the other half of my mind—the fun half—free rein to explore Melissa's body in my mind's eye. 

I take a great deal of pleasure kissing a woman from head to toe, taking tremendous satisfaction from the growing pleasure I can give her with my mouth and tongue. In this moment, I mentally kissed Melissa from her lips, to her neck and shoulders, across her naked chest, across her belly, lingering on her thighs, kissing, licking so lightly as I began to move to her inner thighs and beyond. 

I was a master, I always thought, a zen master at compartmentalizing, at hiding my little perverted flights of fantasy. 

So how could she have known? How was it that at that moment when one half of my brain was describing Catholic dogma and the other half was raising goose bumps on Melissa's firm thighs, that she gave me that look? Her placid, concentrated face changed its expression. Melissa gave me a quick but definitely naughty smile. She half closed her eyes...and smiled. She shifted in her chair. She moved her legs so slightly. Wearing her shorts for lacrosse practice, she moved one leg, closing it slightly, then opening it ever so slightly. 

And suddenly I realized... Melissa knew! Incredibly enough, she had read my mind. She had broken my code, seen through my well-practiced façade. 

And this is where my performance, my act honed over a dozen years and hundreds of lectures, failed me, failed me miserably. 

How had she known that I wanted her? When doing my lecture-fantasize routine, I had trained myself to lock my eyes on the student's eyes. The eyes must never, ever drift. The student must never know what I am thinking. Even if she is wearing a low-cut top. Even if she is wearing shorts. Oh, those athletic shorts... 

But Melissa was not the typical student. She was something extraordinarily attractive to me. And in a moment of incredible weakness, the fantasizing half of my brain finally defeated the professor half, the half that had always been stronger. When Melissa shifted that leg, presenting me with only the briefest moment of invitation, probably unconsciously, for only a split second... my eyes overcame the discipline. 

I looked.

Those tanned thighs, so statuesque, so perfectly smooth, and so sexy, set off and explosion of fireworks inside my serious, professorial brain.

And Melissa, who, by this point I was convinced could see my thoughts through my skull, somehow saw my eyes shift from her face to her legs. 

Suddenly, everything changed. That flirtatious, teasing smile on her face quickly disappeared. It was replaced by another look, the deadly serious look of surprise, then of desire, the painful realization that one is being pursued and that one is excited to be pursued. That look was so incredibly sexy on her gorgeous face that my heart jumped in my chest.

And this is where my finely-tuned discipline failed me completely. My right hand, holding my lecture notes, began to shake. Still lecturing, though with considerably less confidence, my eyes darted around the room. I was so incredibly excited by Melissa.  

I labored to keep my cool. Was anyone noticing my meltdown? It didn't seem so. 

Most of the students were taking notes on my ramblings, which, by now, I had completely lost track of. Others were blissfully ignoring everything, checking the time on their cell phones as they prayed for class to end. 

Melissa's face, on the other hand, was turning red. There was no hint of her smile. Her face seemed to be burning. She seemed to be struggling with some thoughts in her own mind. Embarassed? Aroused? Or some combination? She was squirming now, looking side to side, taking deep breaths, the product of an anxious and conflicted mind struggling to control itself. 

To an outsider who did not know what was going on, we must have been quite a sight. The student, squirming and red faced, trying to regain her composure, embarrassed, nervous, seized by a kind of erotic tidal wave. The Professor, panicked, hands shaking, fearing that he had blown his cover, had ruined his reputation. I was afraid I'd now forever be known as one of those "pervy professors," as some of my senior colleagues were known among the students.

This entire uncomfortable incident, this fireflash of exposed sexual tension, must have lasted only about 30 seconds, though to us it seemed like an eternity. Throughout it all, I continued stumbling through a discussion of the Medieval Papacy, and not very elegantly it must be said. Finally, awkwardly, our eyes met again, Melissa and I, two embarrassed, flustered people, scanning the other for signs of condemnation, judgment, opprobrium. 

And then a wonderful thing happened. We both started to smile, nervously at first, then more broadly, feeling relieved that the other was not angry. Then I, in the middle of my lecture, began to laugh. Chuckling at first, I tried to stop myself. But like the kid laughing in church, there was no way I could stop myself. 

Trying to get a grip on myself amid this absurdity, I looked up and there was Melissa, also cracking up, looking at me and laughing, hand over her face. The rest of the class just sat there, trying to figure out what I was laughing at, some kind of whacked-out inside joke about Henry IV? They weren't sure, but a few joined in, chuckling for the heck of it.

I glanced over at Melissa, gave her an affectionate and happy smile. The tension had been broken. And I thought, well, hey, all's well that ends well. No harm, no foul. Now just finish this lecture, pull yourself together. Afterwards, I'll go back to writing my never-ending book and try to forget about this embarrassing incident.

Melissa, however, had a different idea. Yes, Melissa had a very different idea.... Just remembering it sends chills down my spine.

Since she was sitting in a side row of the classroom, and there was no one next to her or behind her, she was essentially in isolation. I could see in her beautiful eyes that she made up her mind to do something, though I had no idea what. 

As I launched into a disquisition on feudalism and the French aristocracy, Melissa stretched her arms and smiled. Her hands moved to her legs, and she sort of absentmindedly squeezed the outside of her thighs. Her fingers played over her thighs. She looked straight at me. She smiled. 

Ah, students like Melissa reminded me why I still loved teaching!

I lectured, but kept one eye on Melissa. She licked her lips almost imperceptibly. I watched as she casually looked once to the side, and once more over her shoulder. She confirmed that none of the other students would have a good view of what she was about to do. 

Her legs moved open. Since she was wearing shorts, I caught just the slightest glimpse of her pink panties up inside the leg of her shorts. I tried not to gasp, but she surely noticed my reaction. 

Melissa proceeded to tease me mercilessly. She moved slowly, understanding the rhythm of my lecture, and knowing that I couldn't look at her all the time. My eyes had to scan the entire class. But when I did next look back in her direction, the fingers on Melissa's right hand were tracing over the front of her shorts at her crotch. Her fingers lingered over where I imagined her clit was. She lightly tapped her fingers on that spot, over her grey athletic shorts, looking at me, smiling. 

How could Melissa have knows that I love to watch a girl touch herself? That it makes me crazy? But by this point I was convinced she could read my mind. I saw Melissa's turn into a tiny smile. 

She slid her right hand under the waistband of her shorts. Her hand must also have made its way under the waistband of her pink panties, because the expression on her face changed noticeably. The smile was gone. All I could see was the hand shaped bump inside her shorts. I could also see that her nipples were now visible through her University lacrosse tee shirt. 

She positioned herself discreetly so that no one in the room could have seen her, even if they'd thought to look at her lap for some reason. Melissa kept her eyes on me as she moved her fingers incredibly slowly inside her shorts. 

I could see her sexy thighs, opened half way, moving ever so slightly as she applied pressure to her pussy. I could see the outline of her fingers. I could imagine how wet her pussy must be, reading the expression of increasing pleasure and agony on her face. 

Melissa's left hand moved casually to her opposite shoulder, before she slowly, imperceptibly lowered it to brush against her erect right nipple, which was pushing hard against the material of her sports bra and tee shirt. 

Again her beautiful face became flushed. She squirmed. She bit her lip. Her eyes were half closed. I so envied her teasing and exploring fingers.

I could not believe what I was seeing. My favorite student, Melissa, was masturbating for me in class, and only she and I knew about it. She had a slightly pained look on her face. 

As I continued to lecture and answer questions about the aristocracy in the Holy Roman Empire, I glanced over in time to see Melissa's hand move lower. She must have been sliding her finger between the slippery lips of her pussy. Suddenly her fingers began to move more quickly, side to side, beneath the grey cloth of her shorts. She must have been rubbing her clit faster. 

My eyes were now on her most of the time. The rest of the class became nothing but an apparition, of which I became increasingly oblivious. 

All this time I stood behind the podium, my hard cock painfully pressing against the front of my khakhis.

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, Melissa, sweet, erotic Melissa, slowly withdrew her hand from her shorts and looked directly at me with her flashing eyes. I could barely make out the glistening slickness on her fingers. Melissa smiled a little at me as she raised her hand, and turning her hand and moving her fingers in a little wave, showed me that they were wet. 

She brought her fingers to her mouth, and rubbed her middle finger around her lips. Her tongue darted out to lick the finger. Then she pushed the finger into her mouth, moving it in and out shallowly, while I watched. Then she slid the second finger into her mouth, pushing both fingers in deeply, closing her eyes, and tasting. And as I almost passed out, finally, her hand disappeared again inside her shorts. 

Her face took on a new urgency and her hand moved more quickly. Based on her movements, I guessed that Melissa had slipped two fingers inside her tight wet pussy. I tried to control my breathing, which was speeding up almost out of control.

Within another minute, Melissa began to push her thighs together tightly. I could tell she was coming. 

Her face turned bright red and she tensed every muscle in her body, and she gave a little moan. Melissa's thighs crushed the hand playing between her legs as she twitched, trying to stay perfectly quiet. Her orgasm seemed to go on for an hour. After some time, she pulled her hand out of her shorts. She looked to be in pain, and leaned back in the desk where she lay. 

Her face was so beautiful at that moment, placid, flushed, physically spent, and utterly content. I wonder if she knew how much I enjoyed looking at her in this condition. I had the feeling that she did. 

For the final ten minutes of class, Melissa avoided my eyes, pretending to take detailed notes on my lecture. When I dismissed class fifteen minutes later, she closed her notebook, put it in her backpack, and quickly left class with the rest of the students, without a word to me. I felt like I'd seduced one of my students—or had she seduced me? 

All I knew was that I certainly was glad that the university had provided me with funds for a research assistant. And I knew that first thing the next morning I'd be offering that position to Melissa. After all, we had a lot of work to do before I could finish my book...

A Professor of Two Minds Ch. 02



Chapter II: Anna's Request

At the university where I teach, some students will do anything to get a great letter of recommendation. 

Anna was one of my best students. 

A pretty brunette with a killer body and a sweet smile, Anna needed a strong letter of recommendation to get into the University of Michigan Law School, one of the best in the country. She'd had me in three classes, and I was definitely in position to write a good letter for her. Without my letter, she'd never get into Michigan. 

Anna was the kind of student who deserved to go to law school and would make an excellent law student—smart, dedicated, punctual, met every deadline, student body president, and captain of the team. She had worked hard in college. Her 3.92 GPA and very high test scores would have gotten her into many excellent law schools, but Michigan was so incredibly competitive. 

To seal the deal she needed a great recommendation from a professor who knew her well. 

And that professor was me.

It's unethical for a professor to write a great letter of recommendation for a student who isn't first rate. 

It's also unethical, of course, for a professor to ask a student for something in exchange for a letter of recommendation. I knew professors who wanted cash, or, more subtly, would accept a 500 dollar gift card for a letter praising a student's qualities. I had never done anything like that. But Anna......Anna was special. Anna made me crazy. 

And ethics was never my strong suit.

What would a professor risk to get involved with a student?

What would a student give to get into an elite American law school? To pay for law school, students would often have to go 150,000 dollars into debt. Law schools don't give scholarships. 

Except.... 

Except to the very best students. A great letter could be worth a $25,000 a year scholarship for three years. Anna knew this perfectly well.

So when she knocked on my door that Thursday afternoon, Anna understood that the answer to the question she was about to ask me could be very valuable indeed. 

Anna looked so great that day. She dressed up to come and see me. She had a wonderful blouse that highlighted her small but sexy breasts, and a short black skirt. Her legs were fantastic, muscular and smooth. 

So when I asked her in the office, she was bright and perky, putting on her best face. And she was so smart and pretty. She really did brighten my day every time I saw her, in class or out.

She walked past the chair across from me, choosing to sit on the couch instead. I sat at my desk, smiling. She looked fantastic, a beautiful senior, with clear blue eyes, a quick smile, high cheekbones, full lips, and a relaxed, inviting pose. 

After a little chit chat, she finally took a deep breath, flashed a big, awkward smile, and leaned forward, giving me a little glimpse down the front of her top. This was no accident, I thought, hopefully. She was getting ready to ask me for something important.

"Professor," she said, "I really want to go to law school."

"Well, that's great Anna. I knew that, actually. You told me last year that you were thinking about applying. With your grades, you shouldn't have any trouble getting in to a really good school."

She casually uncrossed her legs, and leaned forward. 

"But Professor, honestly, the school I really want to go to is.... the University of Michigan."

"Wow, Michigan?"

"Yes, Sir." I loved it when she called me "Sir." 

"You know how hard it is to get into Michigan, right? I think they only accept about four percent of all applicants. That's one acceptance for every twenty-five applications. One in twenty five!"

"Yes Professor, I know. But with my leadership positions on campus, my grades, my internship at the law firm, my great test scores, my double major......I was thinking I'd give it a shot. Some of my other professors think I have a really good chance." She looked at me hopefully.

I leaned forward and placed a hand lightly on her knee. "Listen, Anna, if you really want it, then you should give it a try." I smiled and nodded. 

"Yes, but you really have to want to go to Michigan. They won't take anyone who isn't really dedicated. And can prove it." I smiled my slightly encouraging, slightly aggressive smile.

If you took an MRI of my brain right there and then, a certain primitive sector would have been flashing orange. 

Was I really going to give in to this instinctive, animalistic feeling? Me, a highly regarded, internationally famous scholar and professor? Was I going to trade on my power over this sexy girl to satisfy my most perverse impulses?

Well... 

Probably...

Anna straightened up and smiled. "Yes, sir! I really, really want to go! It's been a dream of mine! My grandfather went there! I've wanted to go to Michigan Law since I was a little kid!

Hmmmm, I thought to myself. How badly does she really want to go? I couldn't help but get aroused imagining just how badly she wanted this...this ...little scrap of paper that I'd sign. My "highest, most enthusiastic recommendation."

"Anna, I'm sure you know that to get into Michigan, you need it all. Great grades, leadership roles in university organizations, top-notch test scores and......" I gave her a meaningful look. "And absolutely fantastic letters of recommendation." 

She blushed. "Yes, sir. That's why I'm here. I was wondering..." She hesitated. She looked away. 

She squirmed. I loved seeing her in this awkward position. I treasured her nervous movements, her flushed cheeks, the way she moved from side to side, the way she absent- mindedly brushed the bangs from her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck as she got up the courage to ask. 

"I was wondering if you..... if you could, like, you know, write me a.....you know...."

"A letter of recommendation?" I finished her sentence for her, coolly. 

A wave of relief came over her face. She allowed herself a little laugh. "Yes, a letter of recommendation. I mean after all I took three of your courses and I got two A's and an A minus... It was you who really has encouraged me to go to law school. And you've always been my favorite professor, the one I did the most work for, who I really wanted to show how good I could be!"

"Yes, you had an almost perfect record in my courses... Yes, you have been a very good student," I told her in my slightly condescending professorial tone.

I smiled, but my eyes were dead serious. 

"Not great, but certainly very good," I said, like the manipulative jerk I could be. You see, I had to keep some bit of leverage over her; I had to keep her willing to work for it. To please me...

Anna's face dropped. "Not great? But professor, you always wrote such positive comments on my papers and my exams...." Her voice trailed off. 

"And I always loved your courses. I learned so much...." Her cheeks reddened again. Tears came into her eyes. "You, you ...inspired me to do my best, to go to law school, to excel." Her voice trailed off. 

I watched all this with a mixture of sadness at how hurt she must be, and a kind of cold pleasure that she was responding exactly how I'd wanted. I really was a Professor of Two Minds: both professional and perverted at the same time. 

"Oh, thank you Anna. That's very kind of you. I really have tried to mentor you as best as I could. But still...."

"But?"

I broke the bad news. Why did I love breaking Anna the bad news? I wanted her to have to work for her letter.

"But I can only write a great letter for Michigan for one student per year."

Anna was crestfallen. She looked as if she were about to burst into tears, or choke, or both.

"Only one? But can't I be the one? Can't I be the one who you write a 'great letter' for?" she pled.

"I'm sorry Anna." I leaned back, taking it all in. I hate myself sometimes. But I was really enjoying this. My little bit of power over a beautiful student.

"But who are you going to write the letter for this year?" Anna's voice was shaking.

"Well, do you know Melissa Angelo?"

Anna gasped audibly. "Of course I know Melissa. She's...." She couldn't go on. She looked like I had just told her the building was on fire and her puppy was trapped in the attic. "Melissa?? Melissa Angelo?!?"

I cut her off, coldly. "Melissa has a 4.0 average. She earned three straight A's from me. She's also president of the debating club and the honor society. She's captain of the conference-champion lacrosse team. Melissa was in here just yesterday asking for a letter to Michigan. I told her I'd probably write it for her."

Anna looked at me in shock. I tried to maintain my professorial demeanor. 

"Melissa Angelo? Melissa Angelo??!" She acted as though she'd just heard that Melissa Angelo had just been selected to fly to Mars on the Space Shuttle." "Melissa???" She was practically screaming by now. I found it very attractive, somehow, that raw emotion on her face and in her gestures of despair and rage.

"But Melissa is such a suck up! Such a teacher's pet! She's just a little bimbo! She just flirts with all the professors! She doesn't work a tenth as hard as I do! She hasn't earned her good grades."

I couldn't tell if Anna was protesting in disgust or spitting up a hairball as the words came tumbling out.

Amid her eruption, I couldn't help but laugh. 

"Oh, yes, she's earned them. I think you underestimate Melissa's... determination. Oh, and her intelligence, too." 

"Intelligence and determination, my ass! She's an idiot." 

Anna leaned back in the couch and glared at me. 

Suddenly the focus of her rage shifted away from Melissa. She turned the white-hot laser beam of her anger on me. 

"And I had such respect for you as a scholar and teacher." She spoke to me as if she'd just tasted rotten fish.

Suddenly, this wasn't so amusing any more.

I tried to deflect. "What do you mean? I don't see why my writing Melissa a letter of recommendation would affect your opinion of my teaching and scholarship." 

"Yea right." Anna crossed her arms and stared at the door, fuming. Was that smoke I could see coming out of her ears?

"I am so disappointed in you..." Suddenly, things weren't turning out exactly as I had envisioned them. Even I was beginning to feel disappointed. I was somehow feeling....I don't know what that feeling was. It wasn't guilt, was it? I hoped not. I had to remember, it was I who had the power in this relationship. She had no power over me, no ability to make me feel bad in this little teacher-student relationship.

Yes, it was time to move in for the kill.

I tried to act smooth. I leaned back and stretched. 

"Anna, listen. Let's think about this. Is there anything that you think you can say....or do...to change my mind?" I smiled a smile that I thought was playful, suggestive, even just slightly sexy. I was wrong.

She leapt to her feet. "Fuck you!" 

"Uhh..."

"Shut up, you asshole!" She burst into tears. 

"And to think that for three years I looked up to you! I adored you! You expanded my intellectual horizons. You made me think in new ways. You made me want to go out and take on the world, to change the world! Ha!"

I did? When did that happen?

"And now you've stooped to this bullshit? Passing out letters of recommendation in exchange for... for sex?!"

She was screaming. People in the suite of offices could hear if she shouted any louder. And if there's one thing a professor has to fear any more, it's a sexual harassment suit. Not even tenure can protect a professor from that charge. Sure it's very hard to prove that your professor really had sex with you. But if you could prove it, you could, in fact, get the professor dismissed and disgraced. Which was exactly what a few bitter students wanted.

"Anna!" I hissed to her. "Be quiet! There are people out in the hall! For God's sake, do you want to get me fired?"

I realized right away that that was a very stupid thing to say. 

Anna laughed. "Guess, Professor! Just guess if I want to get you fired!" Incredibly, her voice had actually gotten louder by a few decibels.

Now I was really nervous. This was going all wrong. 

"Listen, Anna," I whispered loudly, "You misunderstood me! I am not proposing having sex with you! Now sit down and cut it out."

She sat down, still steaming and wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I would never do that to a student. I don't know where you got the idea that I would ever swap sex for a recommendation. That is just outrageous," I lied. 

She looked at me and smirked. 

"Yea, right." She shifted on the couch. I do have to admit, she looked great. Her fidgeting, her trying to regain her composure, the red eyes, the smeared makeup. The way she pulled at her skirt angrily.

Anna went on: "And of course the great irony is that, yes, I am attracted to you. I have always thought you were handsome and very sexy." 

My eyes widened. I tried not to smile. Wow. She found me... very sexy?

"Well, Anna, the feeling is completely mutual...."

She cut me off sharply: "Don't get ideas, asshole! Those days of you being my fantasy are completely over!" As she spoke, she sliced her hand through the air for emphasis like a kung fu master. I leaned back, out of harm's way, I hoped.

"Listen, Anna. I really think that there is a misunderstanding here. Melissa is a sweet girl, but I am just not interested in her sexually. I would never do something like that. It's unethical." I did my best to appear calm and persuasive. My best, it seems, was not good enough.

Anna just looked at me blankly. She stared. When she spoke, her voice was hushed. "I was so stupid."

"And to think that I used to dream about being with a Professor... I thought you respected me. I thought you were the one."

Her hands moved to her thighs. 

"I dreamed about being with...with you. I was so deluded. I thought you liked me. And you....you made me think that you liked me."

I couldn't believe it. She brought her fingers to the hem of her black skirt and began sliding it, slightly, upwards. 

"To think that sometimes, when I was home in the evening, I would think about you, about us...." Her right hand moved to her inner thigh, now exposed. 

She squeezed and rubbed it lightly. Her fingers trailed over her thighs.

I started to lean over. 

She put her hand out straight up. "Freeze! Don't touch me." I froze.

I tried to pull myself together. "But Anna, I wasn't going to touch you," I lied.

"You are such a liar." She was very perceptive, I'll give her that. 

I was having trouble composing myself. She was sliding the skirt up higher. I caught a glimpse of her flowered panties. 

"Anna, I think that maybe...maybe you should stop. Remember, I could never be sexually involved with a student. That would cost me my job, so of course I'd never, ever do that. Listen, I'll think over your request for the letter of recommendation and ....."

"Don't make me laugh! You absolutely deserve to be fired." 

What she said terrified me. But she had become so relaxed. She seemed to have forgotten about her anger. And her hands continued to move. She started breathing a little harder. So did I.

She took one foot and lifted it onto the couch, providing me with a full view under her skirt at her beautiful thighs, her pretty panties, and her lingering fingers. Her fingers moved in a circle, slowly. She raised her hips slightly off the couch, pressing herself a little more firmly against her fingers. 

Her eyes were closed. She moved. Her fingers pressed harder.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes. "Do you like what you see, Professor?"

Well, yes, I loved what I saw. "No, Anna, of course not! You should leave. This is too much. We could get in trouble."

She chuckled. "You mean YOU could get in trouble. That's what you deserve" 

Anna rubbed the front of her panties a little harder. 

She looked me in the eyes. "Professor, you enjoy watching a girl touch herself, don't you?"

I sat there, looking for words. How did she know? 

"Really, Anna, this has gone way too far," I whispered urgently. "This is far too risky. You should take your backpack and leave...."

But instead of following my sage advice, Anna did quite the opposite. She moved her fingers so slightly, trailing across the damp spot on the front of her panties. With her eyes locked on mine, she slowly pulled the crotch of her panties to the side, exposing her pink, slick lips. Two fingers lightly teased her clit.

Her eyes flashed. "No, Sir, I won't leave. I won't leave until you promise to write me a great letter of recommendation." She slid one finger inside...then, alongside it, a second.

"Anna, this is ridiculous. You must leave at once!"

She bit her lip "Professor, I know you love to watch... I know you do." 

I was mesmerized. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Anna's slick fingers gliding inside, the sheen of the juice shining. Her body tensed up. Anna leaned back in the couch. 

She was starting to moan. Biting her lip. "Professor, I always wanted to do this for you. To let you watch me. I would lie in bed imagining you were watching me play with myself. I would cum.....so....hard."

"Anna, no... you must leave," I sputtered weakly and completely without conviction. "What if someone should find out....?"

Then this devil of a woman did something unforgivable. She slid her fingers out from between her pink, slick lips and leaned forward to me. I was still sitting in my chair, watching her with wide eyes. She very slowly brought her fingers toward me. 

"Professor, I know something about you." 

I started. "What do you mean?" 

"I know that Melissa Angelo touched herself in your class. While you were lecturing, and while you were checking her out, she masturbated for you. Right in class. Isn't that true?" [For details, see the first installment of "A Professor of Two Minds"]

Her fingers kept moving toward me...toward my mouth. "Of course not," I lied again. "How could you have ever imagined something like that could have happened?" 

As her fingers moved toward me, I involuntarily opened my mouth, like a baby bird ready for dinner. But Anna, that demon, pulled away at the last second, and broke the very bad news.

"Because, Professor.... Melissa told me."

What??? 

"She told me exactly what happened in class. How she touched herself in class while you watched... Oh my god, it was so exciting to hear about it! So sexy! God how I wished that I had done it. Maybe then you'd give me a letter for Michigan!" 

She brought her fingers to her mouth and closed her eyes. She slowly tasted her fingers, smiling slightly, a devilish, ecstatic smile. "Melissa told me that when she put her fingers in her mouth, she thought you were going to cum right there at the podium." She giggled. 

I was completely shocked. I was petrified. Melissa had been talking to people about that? I could be in very serious trouble if word of this spread any further.

"Anna, Melissa is lying. That never, ever happened. It's just a figment of her overactive imagination. Some girls are like that. They fantasize about something, then tell their friends that it really happened. I'm sure you understand that."

"No, Sir, she wasn't lying." Her moved her fingers back into herself and gasped. I could smell her aroma. It was driving me crazy. 

"Of course she was. A silly schoolgirl fantasy. A lovely daydream, but bearing no resemblance to reality..."

"No, Sir." She looked directly at me, her thumb again teasing her clit as she slid her fingers up and down her soaking wet, pink lips. "That's not true."

"Well, how would you know, anyway? Why would Melissa confide something that like that to you? You guys barely know each other," I offered, hopefully, nervously.

Anna laughed. "Actually... Melissa Angelo is my roommate."

I literally sat there with my mouth open. This whole situation really wasn't developing the way I had hoped.




A Professor of Two Minds Ch. 02



The expression on my face—a mixture of shock, lust, and confusion—must have emboldened her.

"Professor, nothing, and I mean NOTHING is going to stand in the way of me going to the University of Michigan," she growled. "If you don't write me the most positive, glowing letter of recommendation you've ever written, the entire university will know that you coerce pretty co-eds into sex in exchange for letters of recommendation."

True enough. She pretty much had me exactly where she wanted me. Damn that Melissa for blabbing everything to her roommate.

But wait! I suddenly remembered something. Something that Melissa had told me the day before in my office when she was here asking for a letter of recommendation....

"Fine!" I spat out. "You played me. You win. You can have your damned letter! But not till we play one final game. The teasing is over. And remember, if I get fired, your letter of recommendation is worthless. No one will pay any attention to a letter written by an ex-professor."

I stood up in front of Anna, who was still leaning back on the couch. 

"Open my pants!" I ordered. She looked up. "What? Why should I?" 

"Because I just remembered something Melissa told me about her roommate. She didn't mention your name, but she told me that she had a roommate who was crazy about me. She told me she had a roommate who couldn't stop talking about me. She wouldn't tell me your name... I never thought it was you."

Anna blushed, her face turning even redder than it already had been.

Suddenly, the whole situation had shifted in my favor. I knew what Anna wanted.

I took her hand and placed it on my bulge through my pants....She gasped, and squeezed. Her resistance immediately started to melt. "Oh God," she murmured.

"Melissa told me that it was her roommate's fantasy to be with her professor, in his office. She told me that her roommate shared her fantasy about her professor." I looked down at her sternly. "Unzip it."

Anna looked up and did what she was told. She slowly unzipped my pants. I took them off, together with my boxers.

"Melissa told me that her roommate lay in bed and touched herself, fantasizing about doing something with me. Melissa can hear her moaning when she cums in the other room." 

"Yes, sir," Anna whispered. "I do. I do think about you. I told you..."

Anna leaned forward and took hold of my shaft. She kissed the head, then circled the red tip with her tongue. Her hand circled my cock, and she stroked slowly. Her fingers cupped my balls. 

"You fooled me, you disobedient girl. You have tricked me into saying that I will write you a great letter of recommendation for Michigan Law." 

I took the shaft of my cock and rubbed it on Anna full lips. Her tongue darted out to tease my cockhead. One hand went to my ass, and she tried to pull me into her mouth. 

"Please, sir." I noticed that her fingers were moving quickly, playing with herself. She lifted her hand to my cock, rubbing the pussy juices from her fingers onto my shaft, then licking it off. 

"Melissa told me something else about you, Anna," I whispered. "What exactly is it that you fantasize about before you fall asleep at night, Anna?" I asked. 

She moaned, her tongue gliding lightly up and down my shaft. She was covering it with wet kisses, making it shine, glisten with her saliva. 

"No sir, I can't say it. It's embarrassing. Please don't make me say it."

I balled up her brown hair in my fist, and pulled her head back firmly but gently. "Tell me, Anna. No more till you tell the Professor exactly what you really desire. What you really dream about when you are touching yourself in your bed."

She gasped again. I watched as she slid her index and middle fingers inside herself and gave a little whimper.

"Sir... I need you... to..." She stopped as she kissed my shaft again, moving her tongue down to my balls.

"To what?" I sputtered. It was getting more difficult to talk. Her mouth was incredible. She was so voraciously hungry, so enthusiastic. But she had to be made to obey. She had to understand who had the power in this relationship now.

"Sir, I need you to...to fuck my mouth." Now it was my turn to gasp. This gorgeous student was begging. It was her fantasy to give her mouth up to me for my pleasure. She ran her hands along my thighs, kissed my balls, then my stomach, then my balls again. She leaned back and looked at me.

"Use my mouth like my pussy, sir. Please, sir. That's what I imagine at night...That I make you lose control inside my mouth." She looked me in the eyes. "Your cock in my mouth, Sir. I imagine the Professor's hard cock .... fucking my mouth." I thought she was going to cry, she was so excited and ashamed at the same time.

It was so incredibly sexy to watch her ask, to hear her beg me to fulfill her perverted daydream. And I was more than happy to oblige. "Open your mouth, Anna. Put your hands down and open your mouth."

One hand went between her legs, the other behind her back. 

I lay the head of my cock on her cheek for a moment, loving the warmth and softness of her skin. I rubbed it over her whole face. My shaft went over her chin, her lips, her cheeks. I slapped my hard cock on her pretty face, over her cheeks. "Naughty girls must be slapped," I laughed, knowing that she was aching to taste the cockhead inside her mouth. She smiled her beautiful smile, eyes closed, waiting in anticipation. 

I couldn't hold out much longer. 

"Say 'please' Anna."

"Please, sir." She licked her lips. "May I please taste your cock, Sir?" 

I moved the head of my cock toward her lips. It was so sexy how she moved, trying to catch my slick head between her lips. I love the sight of a girl's open mouth, the tongue, the lips striving and straining to capture that elusive prize. I teased her for a bit, but finally let her win. 

Her lips enveloped the head of my cock, and she wasn't going to let it go. Her tongue swirled fast all over it, all around it inside her mouth. 

Wet and hot and fast. She was nearly out of her mind, sucking it. She put her hands on my ass, pulling me, urging me into her mouth, her eyes closed. 

I tried to restrain myself, but she looked up with fire in her eyes, breathing heavily. 

"Fuck me, Sir. Fuck my mouth hard, sir. Please? Please give me your cum?"

She opened her mouth and attacked my cock this time. Her head bobbed quickly, taking it deeper with each movement. Anna's hands on my ass squeezed, grabbed, pulled. My hands pulled at her hair. One hand went behind her head, giving me leverage to push deeper. She loved that, moaning louder and louder. She moaned as I feverishly churned into her incredible mouth, saliva dripping from one corner of her lips.

I could feel that I was incredibly close. I pulled out for a moment, and tried to compose myself. 

"No!" Anna cried. "Please, sir! Don't stop!"

Breathing heavily, I managed to ask, "In your fantasies....where does your professor cum, Anna?"

"In my mouth, Sir! He floods my mouth with his cum. Please cum in my mouth, Professor! I want to feel your cock throb over my tongue. Spray in my mouth..."

I couldn't refuse an offer like that, and Anna took my cock back into her mouth, as deeply as she could.

She moaned, her head moving quickly, hands squeezing my ass. 

I saw her hand move again to her pussy, and she pushed a finger inside. She screamed onto my cock, cumming.

Her orgasm was a signal. I leaned my head back and moaned deeply, cumming hard, holding onto her head to keep my balance, and trying not to shout so loud that people could hear me in the hallway. 

I could hear her eagerly swallow in big gulps as I filled her mouth. She cleaned my cock off with her tongue, sucking the last drop out of the tip. 

Still panting, she wiped a few stray drops from her chin and lips, then licked her fingers. I pulled out of her mouth finally and collapsed on the couch next to her. I put my arm around her. 

"Thank you, Professor," she said with a radiant smile.

"For what?"

"For the letter you're going to write, and for the fun." She laughed. "I've been wanting to do that for three years, since my first class with you. It was even better than I ever imagined."

"Who knew that you and Melissa were roommates?" I laughed. "Incredible. The two sexiest girls on campus, living together, talking about everything..." I couldn't help but ponder that image for a few seconds. 

Suddenly, just as my body was starting to relax on the couch, the phone rang in my office. I jumped. "Shit, it's my secretary!" 

I almost tripped over my pants as I scampered over to my desk table. I grabbed the receiver and tried to sound normal.

"Yes?"

I could hear the department secretary's voice: 

"Professor, there's someone here to see you about a letter of recommendation. She says it's urgent."

"Who is it?"

"She says her name is Melissa Angelo."

I looked down at Anna, who was lying back on the couch with her eyes closed, completely oblivious to what my secretary was saying on the phone. She was so damned gorgeous, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, blouse unbuttoned, legs splayed, black skirt pulled up around her waist, panties at her ankles, mascara a little smeared. 

Anna was in no shape for company.

I only had to think for a second. 

"Great. Send her in!"

[To be continued...]



A Professor of Two Minds Ch. 03



 Chapter 03: A Taste for Sharing

When I was a junior professor, I had many unexpected adventures.

It is a difficult job, the professor's. Surrounded by attractive young people, he must pretend to be indifferent, even as they fantasize about him, and he about them. He must pretend not to notice when young women use the same tools to tease him as they do their fellow students: the low-cut top, the tight sweat pants, the pen twisting in the mouth during lecture. 

The professor must deliver information, in a correct, interesting, and concise way, even as he exerts all the strength he has not to cast his eyes on the cleavage of a pretty junior. You think it's easy? Just try it.

So when Melissa Angelo locked eyes with me in class and began touching herself [See "A Professor of Two Minds, Chapter 1]; or when Anna Santana confessed to me in my office that she fantasized at night about me as she lay in bed [See a Professor of Two Minds, Chapter 2;] it was, in the end, more than I could take. 

And as I sat in my office, belt on the floor, pants open, catching my breath on my couch, gazing at Anna's flushed face, skirt pulled up high to her waist, pink thong at her ankles, blouse half-unbuttoned—well, I realized I had gone over the line. 

I had always prided myself on my self-control around female students. Yes, I thought about them; yes I daydreamed, just as I knew some of my students did, bored in class, watching me lecture. Sure, I stole a glance sometimes, at their legs, their chests...

But now I had twice crossed the line with students. Was it a crime to watch Melissa, sitting in lecture, as her hand snuck inside the waistband of her field hockey shorts? How could I have stopped her? 

How could I have kept her from doing what she wanted to do? I was lecturing, standing there in front of 50 students. There was nothing I could have done as her fingers moved inside her shorts, as her face got redder, as she locked her eyes on mine, or as she brushed her other hand over her chest, teasing a nipple. 

And Anna—she wanted a letter of recommendation... I told her I couldn't do that, but somehow she ended up confessing that she thought I was sexy, and one thing led to another... Even though she was angry at me, she opened her mouth and fulfilled her fantasy. And I should have stopped right there. I should have asked her to leave. 

But I knew that she wanted just what I did.
And now, sitting on the couch in my office, the phone rang and my secretary told me that Melissa was there to see me, even as Anna and I were still recovering from playing just minutes before. 

I told Anna to cover up—to pull her panties up and button up, quickly! She looked at me with a horrified look in her eyes. "Someone is coming?!" 
"Yes," I said, "It's Melissa. I think she wants me to write her a letter of recommendation for law school."

"What?? Tell her to get lost! Are you crazy?"

And I should have asked to Melissa to leave. I should have stepped outside the office, pulled myself together and told her to come back the next day because I was just called to an unexpected meeting. She would have smiled, turned on her heel, and been on her merry way. 

But...

But I couldn't. 

And I didn't.

Because somewhere in the darkest part of my mind, I wanted Melissa to smell the aroma of sex in my office. 

I wanted Melissa to look at her roommate sitting on my couch and know instantly that Anna had just taken me in her mouth. I wanted Melissa to know that just a few minutes earlier, Anna had been moaning as I pushed myself back and forth, across her tongue, just a bit deeper with each thrust. 

And that Anna loved it.

I wanted Melissa to imagine the sounds, the squealing that had just come from her roommate's pretty mouth. 

I wanted Melissa to understand that Anna had begged me to do this, and, in her imagination, I wanted Melissa to hear those desperate words, to hear Anna pleading for her Professor to "please... please...use...my...mouth."

I wanted Melissa to know that only 10 minutes earlier, I had been throbbing with intense pleasure, filling Anna's warm, beautiful mouth. 

And that a few drops had spilled from the corner's of Anna's mouth onto her pretty white breasts, covered in goose bumps and capped by hard pink nipples. 

And that Anna had loved it so much that she had an orgasm, as she touched herself while her professor used her mouth for his pleasure, her head moving rhythmically to thrusts, her fingers moving rhythmically to her own desperate grinding. 

In the back of my mind, I wanted Melissa to know this. And to be excited by this...

So I invited Melissa into the office. 

It is fascinating to watch the face of a person, and try to read their mind as their expression changes. It is remarkable to see the courteous face they put forth to the world melt gradually first into surprise, then into recognition, and finally into complete understanding.

I kept my eyes on Melissa as she peeked into my office. 

She saw her roommate sitting on my couch with her clothes just a little rumpled, her lipstick just a little smudged, her mascara just a little runny, her eyes just a little dazed, and her face just a little redder than it should have been on this lovely, cool day in October. 

Stopping short in the doorway, Melissa looked a bit confused as soon as she saw Anna. "Oh! Anna! 

What are you.....?" Melissa stammered, her eyes darting quickly from Anna to me, to Anna, and back to me. "What is....Am I...?" 

She was thinking that she had interrupted a meeting, an appointment, a little professor-student chat. She started to excuse herself, apologize, and no doubt walk to take a seat in the reception area until our important meeting was over.

For her part, Anna blushed red as Melissa's eyes lit upon her. I just smiled, watching Melissa's beautiful, expressive face, as it moved from a little bit of confusion to..... to something else. 

Melissa is a very smart young woman. I have great respect for her mind. She has a 3.85 GPA as a senior, and she is in scads of honors societies. 

True to her smarts, I would estimate that within a mere 5 to 6 seconds of her first step into my office and her first glance at Anna she understood exactly what had happened. That's pretty quick. I made a mental note of her sharpness.

Melissa turned and looked at me, blankly. 

She stammered, "You...   I...   You both...   You didn't..." She looked at Anna. "Did you?...." We said nothing, both of us avoiding her eyes for a moment. 

Then Melissa looked back to Anna, and I saw a little spark of recognition, a little silent communication between the two of them. Melissa turned around and headed for the door. For a second, I thought she was going to stomp out.

Instead she pulled the door closed.

And Melissa, sweet, gorgeous Melissa, she locked that door.

And I'll be damned if Melissa didn't look at both of us and smile.

She went over the couch, and she sat next to Anna. 

"Are you OK?" she asked sweetly, looking into her eyes, putting her hand on Anna's arm. 

Anna looked embarrassed and nodded.

Melissa looked at her unbuttoned blouse and the unkempt skirt raised a little too high on her thighs.

"Did he...? Did you...?"

Anna looked for a moment at Melissa, then lowered her eyes. "Yes," she said quietly.

Then the most remarkable thing happened.

Melissa whispered urgently, "Do you remember that you swore you'd share with me if it ever happened, if we ever had the chance? You said you'd tell me everything."

"Yea, it just happened so quickly."

"What did he do?" Melissa asked, herself smiling a bit, biting her lip, and seeming to get excited.

"Melissa....He....You know....in my mouth..." Anna's voice trailed off, and she blushed an ever deeper shade of red. She looked so sexy when she blushed.

"Oh my God," Melissa muttered. She reached over and brushed the hair out of Anna's face, lightly moving her bangs out of her eyes. Her hand lingered, cupping Anna's face. 

This was getting very interesting...

Melissa was breathing more heavily. "Anna, can I taste it? Please, you have to let me taste it in your mouth."

Anna nodded.

Melissa leaned over and kissed Anna, slowly at first. Melissa moved away slightly after a moment, passing her tongue over her lower lip. 

"I can taste him," she murmured to Anna. 

"Baby, taste him some more. It's so good," Anna breathed, leaning over and pushing her tongue a little deeper into Melissa's mouth as they kissed more passionately. I could see their tongues moving together. "Oh babe, I can taste him in your mouth," Melissa said, and began breathing more heavily. 

Anna's hand moved absentmindedly over Melissa's chest, now, cupping and squeezing Melissa through her blue top. 

"It tastes so sexy in your mouth." "Yea," moaned Anna. "Do you want to taste more of the Professor?" 

"Oh god yea," said Melissa. "So do I," said Anna. 

"Some of it dripped down here, on my breasts." 

Anna pointed down to her chest. 

Melissa unbuttoned a couple more buttons on Anna's blouse, and kissed her there, slowly savoring every drop, ever bit of my leftover seed. Anna leaned forward, quickly took off her blouse, then reached behind her back, unhooked her bra, and leaned back in the couch. Melissa moved her mouth to Anna's nipple, kissing and teasing it. 

Anna's legs opened a bit. She had managed to pull up her skirt before Melissa arrived, but not her panties, which she had lost somewhere in the cushions of the couch. 

Melissa whispered, barely audibly. "Baby, I can 
taste him on your nipples....salty and a little sweet." She continued to taste and lick Anna's breasts. More and more turned on, Anna pulled Melissa's head down.

Melissa moved her hand across Anna's thighs, trailing slowly. Her hand slid between Anna's legs, and Anna spread her legs a bit wider. I couldn't see what was happening under Anna's skirt. But suddenly Anna let out a soft moan. 
Melissa lifted her mouth from Anna's breast, and said, "Oh my god babe, you are sooo wet!" 

Melissa looked at me and smiled. "Professor, you must have given her exactly what she wanted.... She's shaking!" 

"Melissa, I think that you're giving her what she wanted..." 

As Melissa's fingers were busy under Anna's skirt, she asked Anna, "Tell me what he did to you baby... Tell me..."

Anna let out a little whimper and started talking, half in a whisper that got louder and louder as she went on.

"Melissa, you wouldn't believe it. He somehow knew that I dreamed of him, you know, taking my mouth. He knew I wanted to suck him, baby. He said he knew what I fantasized about. It was so hot that he knew! He ordered me to take his pants down. He, like, ordered me to ....to.... open my mouth and take him inside. He made me lick and suck it!"

"Oh my god, how did that feel, baby?" She leaned over and licked and teased Anna's nipples as she played with Anna under her skirt.

"Oh my god, it was so hot, so sexy. Professor Jim has such a nice cock, just like we knew he would. He rubbed the head all over my mouth, on my lips. He teased me. It was so hot... Melissa, he made me beg for it! He made me look him in the eyes and beg!"

"Oh babe....oh god." Melissa's hand was moving more quickly under Anna's skirt. She herself was getting more and more turned on. "Tell me more, Anna..." she whispered.

"He took my hair in his hand! And he just pushed it into my mouth, as deep as he could! Melissa, he pushed into my mouth! So hard! Just how I wanted it! He used my mouth like he owned me, Melissa. It felt so good, baby."

Anna began moaning..."Suddenly he started to cum! His cum...was spurting in my mouth....Professor filled up my mouth with hot cum... it got on my lips....on my tits!.... He was shouting... He was fucking my mouth, baby!"

Her voice got higher and higher, as Melissa's hand moved more quickly under her skirt.

"Melissa, I came while he was coming in my mouth!"
The memory of our encounter, together with the feel of Melissa's fingers inside her, were too much for Anna. 

Anna started to whimper and push her hips hard against Melissa's hand. Within seconds she started coming, her hips shaking wildly, as Melissa kissed her harder, her warm tongue deeper in her mouth. 

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was one of the sexiest things I had ever experienced, and I wasn't even physically involved. 

After a minute, Melissa pulled her hand out from under Anna's skirt and brought it to her mouth, gently, slowly licking her fingers clean of Anna's flavor. Melissa cast a look at me to see if I was watching her suck on her fingers. 

And of course I was. I couldn't take my eyes off them.

Melissa leaned over to Anna. "You taste good too! So sexy....First I taste the Professor, and now you.... you taste so fucking hot together." 

Anna, still panting, pulled Melissa to her and kissed her. They again shared the taste of Anna's pussy.

After they'd kissed for a while, Melissa turned and looked at me, sitting in my chair at the desk. I had been watching appreciatively, and now 

I was incredibly turned on, as you can imagine...

She smiled. "Professor, you are a bad, bad boy. Taking advantage of a cute, vulnerable student like Anna in such a forceful, dirty way... And right here in your office, too!"  

Then she got more serious as she lowered her eyes. 

"And thank you... Anna and I have been talking about a moment like this since we both started taking your classes last semester."

She kneeled on the floor in front of me, still fully clothed, and started rubbing me through my pants... One hand went under her own skirt, rubbing herself through her panties. 

"God, I'm wet," she whispered to no one in particular, looking me straight in the eyes. She brought her fingers to her mouth, again tasting them and smiling. 

"Sir, I think that you know that I will need you to do much more than simply violate my mouth, like you did to sweet Anna..." She gave me a wicked grin.

From the couch, I heard Anna giggle, as Melissa reached up and unbuttoned my khakhis... 

TO BE CONTINUED... (if there is popular demand  :)  )