4 comments/ 14322 views/ 2 favorites The Philosophy of Sex Ch. 01 By: Lady_Jess7015 My name is Professor Edward Haseman, and I am a Philosophy professor at a local community college. I have many fond memories of students throughout my teaching career, but there is one I look back on with the memory that makes me smile...and pop a hard-on. Aislin was a lovely young woman in my sophomore Philosophy class. At first glance, she might seem to be like any other sophomore girl; she had long blonde-brown hair, porcelain skin, sparkly green eyes, hips set a bit wider than the typical definition of "beauty" society put forth would allow, and large-ish breasts. But Aislin never wore shoes to class if she didn't have to. During the cold months, she would wear ballet flats made of velvet. During the hot months she would wear flip flops to protect her feet from the blistering asphalt. But during the mild spring and fall months, she would go barefoot. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 1 pm she would flounce into my class and sit in a different seat. Being a philosophy teacher, I like things that are unusual or odd; hell, I have dreadlocks and I wear glasses. And, being a philosophy teacher, it is hard to find women that want to have sex with me; they hear "philosophy" and turn tail, thinking I don't have a "real job". It doesn't help that I'm no Tom Cruise, either. But Aislin seemed to like the way I looked, and she seemed even more into how I thought and what those thoughts were. And I was captivated by her. Her green eyes and the placement of an ever-changing flower in her hair intrigued me; her barefooted beauty excited me. During class I would try to not look at her, to keep my composure in front of the rest of the class—but she would always comment, always have a question or something to say. The worst part about that was I couldn't ignore her comments; they were usually profound and very relevant to the topic at hand. Her intelligence on my favorite field of study only made me admire her more. Sometimes she stayed after class to talk to me if she felt the interest—sometimes she didn't. I could never predict what she would do—which only entranced me further. Soon I began to have inappropriate thoughts about her, particularly when she would wear those low-cut tops and nibble on the end of her pencil when she was deep in thought, gazing up at the ceiling. The expanse of pale skin on her neck invited me to lick and tease, to touch and tantalize. Her long, tapered fingers would tap out an unknown rhythm on the keyboard of her laptop, and I tried not to imagine all the better uses I would have for those hands, those lips always pulled into a smile. Before long I was hurrying out of the classroom at the end of every period, rushing to my office to close and lock the door. There I would sit behind my desk and close my eyes, imagining her dancing for me, taking off more than her shoes. As I gripped my cock I imagined it was her hand, her soft, gentle fingers, sliding so delicately, even shyly over me until I spurted long ropes of cum all over myself. Soon my fantasies grew wilder. Soon I began to imagine her following me into my office under the guise of a question for me, only to sink to her knees, unzipping my pants to suck my cock. My ever-imaginative mind continued to have her do things to me, and to let me do things to her. "Oh, Aislin," I would moan quietly as my mind brought her to me in a miniskirt and no panties, finally letting me take her. And take her I did, hard, fast, and frantic, bouncing her up and down on my lap as she moaned her pleasure. This had almost become a sort of ritual for me, even a game. Every Tuesday and Thursday I would teach the class; Aislin would walk in, a few moments late as usual, and the game would begin. She didn't know what she was doing to me as she bent down over her notes, or tossed her hair. She would lift her head and smile at me, and I would try not to remember all of the things I had imagined those lips doing to me. At the end of class she always won the game she didn't know she was taking part of—I went into my office and imagined her doing naughty things for me while stroking my cock. Well, after almost a semester of this, it happened. It was a breezy Thursday afternoon in May, the perfect weather for shorts, as it seemed. Aislin waltzed into my classroom and did a small twirl before sitting down, her beautiful legs exposed by the mid-thigh shorts she wore. Her legs seemed even longer, being uninterrupted by shoes. God, she had beautiful legs. Just thinking of those bare legs hanging off the side of my bathtub sent a shock of desire straight to my groin. I tried to swallow the sudden lump in my throat and squelch the fantasy before it became obvious to her and the rest of the class that my mind was not on philosophy at the moment. My mind refused to cooperate; I envisioned her in the warm bathwater, bubbles playing prettily over her breasts as she hummed that enigmatic tune she was always whistling on her way into class. She glided a razor over her long, long legs, and then she slid a vibrator over her thigh and... Oh no. I hadn't thought of her playing with HERSELF before. Now it was all I could think about as I moved to sit behind my desk, attempting to hide my throbbing erection. The last 30 minutes of class crawled by like hours as my cock demanded immediate attention. Finally the class was dismissed and I hurried to my office to mentally take her, and to masturbate hard. I was out of the room faster than most of the students. But it seems Aislin wanted to chat with me. Unknown to me, she followed me to my office after slowly gathering her things, like usual. After all, mine was her last class for the day, why should she hurry? She knew where I would be. So she meandered the short distance from the classroom to my office. By that time, I had closed the door, sat down, and with the picture of Aislin naked and touching herself burning hot in my mind, had begun to masturbate. I could feel the orgasm starting to climb, I was almost there... Suddenly there was a knock at my door, the handle rattled, and opened. It seemed in my hurry to relieve the ever-building pressure in my pants, I had forgotten to lock my door. And there in the doorframe stood Aislin, mouth agape at the sight of her professor leaned back in his office chair, engorged cock in hand, eyes rolled back as he muttered her name over and over. "I-I..." she stammered, unsure of what to say. She turned the loveliest shade of rose and turned on her heel and fled. Panicking, I tried my best to stuff my still-flexing cock back into my pants and went after her, wanting to explain but not knowing what to say. All I knew is that I didn't want her to be afraid of or disgusted by me. "Aislin, wait!" I called to her as I tried my best to run. God, what had I done? The Philosophy of Sex Ch. 02 I caught up to her in a secluded corner of the school, a sort of student lounge. She was sitting there in one of the many cushy chairs with her head back, staring blankly at the ceiling, muttering something I couldn't quite hear. "Aislin?" I asked quietly, anticipating a heavy object (like her backpack) to my head, or at least a scream. I got neither. Without looking down to me she said simply, "Mr. Haseman," as if that were the proper response. "Look, Aislin, what you saw back there..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish. "Yeah...I'm sorry," she replied. Wait, what? SHE was sorry? Sorry for what? She didn't do anything wrong, I was the wrong one, the twisted, dirty man that masturbated while thinking of her. "Yeah," she said, still not looking at me. "Sorry for running away like that. I wasn't sure what to do..." "I'm sorry if I startled or scared you, Aislin..." I started, and she finally turned her head to look at me. Her soft green eyes silenced me. They were calm and serene as ever, but there was a small light, a fire in her eyes. "That's not it at all, Professor." She told me quickly. I could only stare at her confusedly. "I wanted..." she blushed deeply, turning that beautiful rose shade again. "I-I wanted..." "What did you want?" I asked, daring to hope she meant the impossible. "I...I wanted to help you...you know, come." She averted her eyes again, studying her bare feet. Her skin was flushed and her breathing was a bit heavy. "But...but I don't know how to...to touch it. You know, to please you...and I was so worried you would turn away...then I heard you say my name and I...I just didn't know what to do. So I ran." I almost couldn't believe she had said those words. They were what I hoped for, but it was the kind of hope you know will never happen, never in a million years. But it did. Once I came to terms that this was actually happening and I was not dreaming, I cleared my throat. "If you wanted to help, I could teach you how to touch it," I offered, hoping and praying that she would accept. "You would? Really?" She looked at me in disbelief and excitement. I could only nod and gently take her hand to lead her back to my office. Making doubly sure to lock the door, I ushered her to the desk. I sat down on my chair and told her, "It would be easiest on both of us if you got down on the floor." She nodded and sank down between my knees. I stood long enough to pull my slacks down to my ankles, along with my boxers. She looked up at my crotch and stared. "It's...not hard anymore?" she asked. I chuckled. "It goes down when I have to walk or run," I explained, "which is good, because it's uncomfortable to walk with it up." She only stared. Under her gaze my cock grew hard, as it too came to realize that this was actually happening. She slowly straightened and I felt what might have been a small lick, so timid and shy, just on the tip. I encouraged her softly to continue, and she did. She delicately wrapped her soft lips around the tip and her tongue flicked over it. Gathering her silky hair in my hand, I slowly applied pressure to the back of her head, gently introducing more of my cock into her mouth. The warm wetness surrounded me and I tipped my head back and moaned. "That's it, baby," I murmured, gently pulling on her hair to coax her away, only to come back again. She soon caught on to the motion, my clever girl. After some careful instruction on tongue movements she was sucking me like a pro, moaning as she pulled my cock deep into her mouth. The little vibrations from her moan rocked my body, and my knees gave out. I sank into my chair, and Aislin, without missing a beat, just slid forward and continued to suck. I reached forward to grasp the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head. She stopped only long enough to let me pull it off, for her to unhook her bra for me, and then went right back to sucking. She played with different combinations of licks to see which ones would make me moan loudest—I played with her breasts, using different finger motions to achieve the same goal. I watched her then reach down and unbutton her shorts, slipping her hand underneath to play with herself. I had to gently push her off of me—watching her do that nearly made me cum, and I wasn't ready to do that just yet. "Aislin, wait," I panted when she looked at me, confused. "Not yet," I told her, "I don't want to cum yet. First I want to watch you play with yourself." She flushed a deep rose, but nodded her consent. "Get up on the desk," I instructed her, helping her up onto her feet. "You won't need those," I said, gesturing to her shorts. Her color deepened as I leaned forward to gently tug them off of her lush, rounded hips. Her panties were cute, blue boy shorts with a purple flower in the middle. "Now just lay back and touch yourself like you would if you were alone." I sat down to watch the show, entranced by her. She slipped her hand into her panties and her fingers began to work. Before long I couldn't just sit and do nothing—I reached out to help her. Her fingers stayed mostly on her clit, so mine slipped into her and began to stroke. Feeling her tight wetness around my finger sent another shock of desire through me. When she felt what I was doing she sat bolt upright. "What...what is...what are you doing?" she looked shocked. "I'm fingering you, baby. Don't stop now, I like watching you." She slowly sank back down onto the desk, clearly enjoying these new and strange sensations I was evoking in her. She began to pant and arch her back, and I slid my finger in as far as it would go. I curled my finger a tiny bit, and suddenly she came, all hot wet velvet around my finger. Her cries of pleasure only heightened my desire. Unable to control myself any longer I pulled off my shirt and climbed up onto the desk on top of her, not entering her quite yet. I let her get used to the feeling of my length pressed against her, grinding against her, making her shudder with pleasure. I leaned up to tease her clit with the tip of my cock, and she shivered. Suddenly she let out a whimper and begged, "Please, Mr. Haseman...I want it so bad, please put it in me..." Her pleading made me remember how badly I wanted her, as well. I pressed the tip of my cock into her, and she moaned, "Yes, yes, please..." Her pussy was so tight around me I was a little concerned I would hurt her. But she flexed her inner muscles around me, her pussy trying to pull me in deeper. At that point I lost all control and slammed into her, forcing her to slide across the desk a little bit and cry out her ecstasy. Her arms went around my neck and pulled me in close for a kiss as I rocked in and out of her. Every thrust had her gasping and pleading with me to never stop. The wet warmth of her tight pussy brought me to the edge of my own ecstasy faster than I might like. I buried my head in her shoulder and panted, "Aislin, baby...it's been so long...I don't think I can wait..." She then did something that sent me over the edge—she licked and nibbled my ear. At that point I could not withhold my orgasm and sank my teeth into her shoulder as I came. As my cum spurted inside her she flexed around me and joined me in paradise. I collapsed on top of her, spent to the point of exhaustion. She just lay underneath me, panting. I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, and I gently kissed her shoulder where I had bitten, her neck, and her lips. I murmured in her ear how beautiful she was, and how much I enjoyed this, enjoyed her.