1 comments/ 24960 views/ 1 favorites A+ Pearl By: ChelseaQuestion Pearl was a straight-A student, 4.0 since high school. When she received the note from her Erotic Studies professor suggesting they meet to discuss her work, she felt a twinge of anxiety. Had she, by some fluke, failed to turn in an assignment? At her dorm room computer, Pearl pulled back her long, auburn hair into a neat pony-tail. She compared her files to the class syllabus. No, she had not missed an assignment. There was her most recent paper, "Eastern Erotica: A History of Tantric Positions." She quickly scanned the text for flaws, and, having done copious amounts of research in the great hushed library on campus, found none. "Well," she said to herself, packing her backpack with a textbook and notebook, "I've done my research. Let's see what he wants." Before heading out she changed from her sweatpants and shirt, pulling on a baby-tee with the college insignia, and jeans that were not bulging, but, she felt, comfortably tight from her 'freshman ten.' Pearl entered the door to the lecture hall of Erotic Studies 101. The class would not begin for another two hours. She walked down the carpeted steps towards the professor's desk and lectern. Professor Randall sat at the desk, sifting through the clutter of papers. He did not look up as she came in. "Hello Pearl," he said to his papers. Professor Randall was well-liked among his students, being one of the younger and 'cooler' male professors on campus. "Professor Randall, I got your note. You wanted to see me?" "Yes." He looked up from his papers. From her usual seat in the lecture hall Pearl could tell that he was an attractive man, not more than 40 years old. She fancied she had a crush on him. Her suspicions of attraction were confirmed up close as she stood only a desk-length from his medium, muscled frame. He removed his wire-rimmed glasses as he spoke. "Pearl, there is a problem with your work in this class." "A problem professor? I take my work very seriously." "I'm sure you do, Pearl. What I mean is, your paper on tantric positions was well written, and well researched." Pearl relaxed her shoulders at this. "But," the professor continued, "it lacks...depth." "What do you mean?" She always tried to write from the heart, even in academic essays. The professor rose from his chair as he spoke. "I mean when one reads your papers, well, they're very good but they lack depth of feeling. And that," he walked slowly around the desk towards her, "is at the heart of erotic studies." To maintain a professional distance, Pearl took a step back towards the desk. At this distance, the professor was indeed very attractive. And how was he looking at her, with what intensity? He took another slow step in her direction. "You're a very pretty girl, Pearl. There are things I can...teach you. To deepen your understanding of erotica." The shock at these words was dulled by the feeling inside of Pearl. The tension between her body and his was electric. She took another step towards the desk. Searching herself, she felt her spirit consent to his tutelage. He advanced until Pearl was against the desk, hands on the surface to support herself. Instinctively, she lifted her ass to sit on the desk. Professor Randall moved so that his hips were between her open knees. He reached one hand around to settle on her lower back, pressing her towards his taut body. She surrendered with a soft moan as he kissed her lips, her neck, sometimes softly, sometimes savagely, as if he struggled to control the beast within him. "Take me," Pearl whispered. He pulled away to look into her eyes with a question. "Teach me," she said. His hands found the base of her t-shirt and lifted, golden-brown hair spilling down around her shoulders and breasts as he removed it. His hands found her ample breasts, and he gently pinched her erect nipples. Gently, then a little harder. Excited by her moaning, he moved his hands to her jeans, which he pulled smoothly down off of her legs. As he rose to remove her panties he could see a bright wet spot between her thighs. His lips were drawn there like a moth to a flame, and she moaned freely as he tongued and sucked her wet panties. Pearl used her own fingers to pinch and flick her nipples, now hard as cherries. "Ohh, yes," her pleasure escaped in words. Professor Randall rose to remove her panties, and disrobed himself. He instructed Pearl to find her clitoris and touch it. She breathlessly complied. When he was naked and his manhood fully aroused, he joined her. "Lift your leg," he said, "like this." His hand on her thigh moved that supple limb, raising it at the knee until her heel rested on the desk level with her buttocks. "Keep touching yourself there." He indicated her now-visible, throbbing pink clit. "Lick your fingers first," he said. Pearl complied. She placed her index finger, then her second finger wetly into her mouth, drawing them out with ample moisture. He stood between her knees, guiding her wet fingers to her own pussy, moving in a circular, then up and down motion. Her head rolled back in pleasure. He stroked himself simultaneously. Pearl had never felt herself so wet down there. At his guidance, she was experiencing new heights of sensual pleasure. When she thought she would burst from it, he instructed her, "lean back on the desk now. Lean back on your elbows." She complied. Then Professor Randall lifted his tight form onto the desk, straddling Pearl, naked. He placed his knees on either side of her head. "Continue to touch your clit," he breathed, "now I'm going to face-fuck you." Her lips willingly parted for the smooth head of his cock. She moaned with pleasure, and he could feel her tongue react to it's new playmate with vigor. Inside her mouth she stroked him wetly, her moaning muffled by his huge member. Her hands worked between her own legs as he thrust. When her tongue began to explore the very tip of his penis, to draw out the pre-cum surging there, he withdrew his cock from her mouth. "Please," she whimpered, "I want it." He dismounted the desk. "I want it," she repeated, "give it to me. Please," Pearl begged her teacher. He walked around the desk to stand at her feet. He could see the pool of wetness spreading down her swollen pussy. "I'll give it to you, Pearl." Firmly grasping her thighs, he pulled her ass towards the edge of the desk. She moved her lithe fingers to her nipples, lightly pinching. The professor groaned as he slowly penetrated her. She gasped as first his head, then shaft stretched her pleasurably. After two slow thrusts the passage was tight but smooth. He placed his hands on her knees like handlebars as he quickened the pace of his thrusting. Pearl's breathing became quick, rapid, and the pitch of her moans became higher as she pinched her own nipples harder and harder. The professor pumped now, enjoying the wet slapping sound of her ass on his thighs, and the sight of her tits spilling outwards. Pearl's moaning escaped her now in high cries, "professor! Professor!" and he felt her swollen cunt contract on his cock from the base to the head, over and over again, squeezing. He withdrew his cock until just the head was inside as she came on him, the pressure of her contracting cunt focused on the rim of the head. Then he withdrew completely and exploded on her stomach and her tits. He stroked his wet shaft and the hot cum flowed onto her. Her still-cumming cries echoed throughout the lecture hall. When the last of his cum had emptied onto her, professor Randall spoke to Pearl. "That was very good, Pearl." He handed her some tissues from the box further down on his desk. "But I think you will require more study to really understand the meaning of erotica." Pearl lifted her head from the desk to meet his gaze with a sly look. "I should hope so, professor Randall." After they had cleaned themselves and dressed, Pearl took her seat near the front row of the class. Students began to trickle in and take their seats, pulling paper and textbooks from their bags. Pearl knew that there would be many more private study sessions with her professor in this lecture hall. Professor Randall's eyes met hers as the last seats in the hall filled. Perhaps she would require more tutoring after class? "OK class," the professor began, "who can tell me the meaning of erotica?" A Pearl in Silk Sheets * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (12 min/mp3) * * * * * For Michael I hear the door slam and you shout: "The frigging string broke on my kite!" I lift my head at this. "It nearly hit a motorbike rider; he went the wrong way round the roundabout. You should've seen his face." I stayed back to get ready for the party we are invited to. You said you weren't going to bother to change but I wanted to shower and put on a dress. Or not. You are coming in the bedroom and I see that you have not lost the kite, it's in one of your hands. Your mouth is open to say something more; about the frigging string perhaps, or the unfortunate motorbike rider. You see me and then you drop the kite, your mouth hangs open for a moment before you snap it shut. The indignation of your face dissipates and a devilish glint hardens your eye. I do not speculate as to what else about you may be hardening up. I know. I have made up the bed with a wool blanket and silk sheets. I lie there wearing nothing but a string of pearls you gave me. You used to think a woman was sexier if she wore nothing but perfume and her knees behind her ears but after you gave me the pearls, you changed your mind. "Do you like my party outfit?" I enquire, lazily running one hand up the delineated muscle of my pale thigh in the pale silk sheets. I trail my hand along the inside of my groin by the dark brush of hair. The pearls hang between my breasts with a sheen as soft as the silk, as soft as my eyes. You start hurriedly tugging off your clothes. "I'll shower," you say. "No," I say, sitting up. "We haven't got time! C'mere. Now!" Shedding your clothes on the floor, you come to my outheld arms, press your mouth to mine. Your cock is already big and stiff. I finger it for the pleasure of doing so, not because you need the encouragement -- as if! I smell the spicy scent of sweat on your body, sniff it up. Your mouth parts from my kiss and you push me back, I go down in the sheer softness of the sheets, back onto the rough male kiss of the wool blanket. Your long fingers grip on my shoulders, my eyelashes flutter in the momentary submission to your will. Momentary, my darling. Your hands are moving over my body: the softness of a thigh, the hard jutting hip bone, the full weight of a breast cupped in your long fingers. I catch my breath up at the brush of your fingers on my nipple -- mm! Delicately, you pinch it between finger and thumb, the nub standing up as eager for you as your cock throbs eager for me. You sit up away from me and I hear the familiar rustle of the condom packet. I am looking at the line of your back -- so familiar, so beloved. I sit up to press my warm wet mouth to your back. A kiss, a wet lick of a tongue along your shoulder blade and down your spine. Grinning at the sensations tickling down your spine, you turn in my hands, you turn your attention to me. Kiss me, lick me, run your tongue over my full soft breast, kiss down my tucked in waist! I am laughing, I'm throwing my legs open but you, bloody cunt tease, you're just kissing my belly. Fucking bastard! you know what I want! I'm moaning and pushing your head down but now you've got hold of the string of pearls. Ohhh! You pull them over my head and look at me with that ba-ad glint in your eye and a string of pearls dangling from your long fingers. What now, ba-ad thing, devil with the silver-smooth tongue, angel of darkness? I lie back with my legs and arms flung out in the soft silk sheets, the rough wool blanket and my eyes half-closed; in momentary submission. You put long fingers to my cunt and I shiver with delight. I'm already soft and wet, eager, panting for your big hard cock. Mmmmmm! the caress of your fingers on my soft wet pussy. Now you've got the pearls in your two hands: milky strings of moonlit dreams, and you're putting them between my thighs, pulling them tight into my wet hungry pussy. I feel the hard round nodules on my sticky soft juicy pussy, one presses to the nodule of my clit, you start to gently saw the string of pearls back and forth ... back and forth ... back and forth. Oh! I am writhing in the silk sheets. My shoulders are slipping on the silk, my hips flung wide trying to move yet not move away from the string of pleasures dragged over my hot eager sex. You watch with the devilish glint hard in your eye and the grin on your mouth. Fuck me, fuck me! I can hardly bear the pleasure! the excitement of the small round pearls dragging over my eager round clitoris, the hot soft hole of my vulva. Suddenly you chuck the pearls aside, they hit the silk sheets, I hear a rattle and a soft thump as they slide off the bed to the floor. I'm rising, sitting up to seize your shoulders. I'm pulling, pushing you down and -- your face intent now -- you submit to my little fingers gripped on the round bones of your shoulders. I push you back, down in the bed, back into the slippery softness of the silk sheets. I throw my leg over your hips, my hand goes to finger the stiff rod of your big cock. Oh-h-h-h! baby. The plump head of your cock thrusting from the foreskin to nestle to my soft warm cunt. I put that fat jewel against the pearl of my clit, in the slick silken sheets of my cunt lips. I ease back and forth, ohhh, so goo-ood! the big plump cock's head after the small pearls. Oh yessssss. Now you are the one twisting your shoulders in the sheets, trying not to buck your hips such that we lose this delicate pleasure. Oh Jesus! the soft firm pressure on my clit, on my pussy, in between my lips. Chrissake! Fuck me, fuck me! gotta have you, gotta have you in me! With a wriggle I am pressing my vulva to your thrusting cock's head, your hard thick cock. A sudden thrust down, mmmmm! and I am rigid with pleasure, gripping my little fingers into fists, my eyes tight shut -- ohhhh! impaled on your meaty cock. Oh Jesus, sweet Jesus Christ! that long thick rod deep up in me, the satisfaction. I'm falling to rest on my hands over you so that my breasts swing like bells above you. You brush your hands over my breasts and make me shiver and scream softly. You put your long fingers to grip my hips. I start riding you, up and down, dipping my back so my cunt presses your cock in curves, making you grunt and grip your fingers as the silken sheath of my cunt presses in curves on your cock. I curve up and down, so that you press on that spot that makes me grunt and gasp; rising and falling, dipping my back, faster, harder. Fuck me, fuck me! I'm wild with pleasure, your cock deep up inside me hitting places no other man could reach. Ohhhhh! Your cock up in my silken wet cunt, sliding in and out as I rise and fall, dipping and curving on your hard rod, panting with pleasure. Your fingers grip hard, tight, you begin the ecstatic groans of orgasm. "I'm so close! I'm coming!" I can feel you throbbing in me, the tight pleasures are starting to shiver through me. Suddenly it bursts in us like a shower of pearls breaking free from the strings of our nerves. With a scream I press down to milk every last drop out of you, press hard down on you, quivering with the cascade of pleasure pouring through us. I lay my body down on yours in your arms. A soft beading of sweat on our skins is susceptible to a light breeze. Without moving from on top of you, I reach out to pull a silk sheet, the wool blanket over us and we lie pressed close, cocooned in the silk and wool. Our friends will be enjoying their party. And we are too -- in our fashion. We will have to tell them we both had the most terrible headaches. Again.