5 comments/ 106789 views/ 4 favorites My Days at St. Mary By: Charles Petersunn This story was somewhat difficult to classify, but I do believe that it fits best with the Mature (May/December) section, particularly the third, final and major part of the story, but also earlier parts as well. However, please be warned that it also does briefly contain other themes and components (e.g., fetish, submission, spanking). - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Victor Wilson had become so terribly frustrated. He had worked quite hard in graduate school. He had studied hard. He got A's in most every class. He had garnered a considerable amount of teaching experience, serving as an Assistant Professor for Introductory Counseling, Research Design, and High School Literature. He had even been given the honor of conducting his own independent course: Psychology in the Classroom. He was going to publish his dissertation in a scholarly journal: American Journal of Educational Psychology. Mind you, it wasn't going to be published within the very best journal of the field. But, still, it was a top-rated journal and the paper was surely to be received as a very well regarded pedagogical treatise on the costs and benefits of the New School method of classroom corporal punishment. It was an innovative perspective that was garnering considerable interest within the field. Victor had even completed an internship with the renowned Mr. Peters at Templeton College, who was perhaps the most visible expert on the New School. Yet, his attempts to gain an instructorship at a well-regarded, four-year, liberal arts college went for naught. He did get one interview, at Templeton. He was understandably hopeful, given the connections he had established during his internship there. Nevertheless, even Templeton turned him down. He tried for three straight years, which was unheard of for a graduate of Livingston, and rather distressing, if not humiliating. He couldn't figure it out. His mentor, Professor Henry Desmond, suggested that it was just unfortunate timing. The science of discipline was in its early stages. Only three colleges were even known to be applying the principles to the classroom: Templeton, Abberville (where Victor had completed his undergraduate education), and Livingston, where he was receiving his graduate education. Livingston University was in fact the only graduate level college in which disciplinary studies were being offered. It was a difficult area of research in part because it was at times rather problematic to get the studies approved by the respective college's internal review board. This was why Victor had traveled to Templeton for his internship. After three years of repeated failure, he considered starting over. Well, not really starting over, not all the way back to the first year of graduate school. But, he could perhaps just alter his field of investigation to something more socially acceptable, more politically correct, more pedestrian. His mentor, however, had another thought, a quite radical thought, and one that just might work. "Victor, I want you to take a look at this add." "Oh, Professor Desmond, not another one. I don't think I can handle another rejection." He didn't even like looking at the adds anymore, let alone getting his hopes raised once again, only to be dashed and shattered. It was like being a pauper outside a department store window during Christmas. All that one saw were wonderful things that you could not have. In some respects, the position sounded perfect. The add read: "Seeking applicants for undergraduate instructor at St. Mary. We are particularly interested in applicants with a specialty in pedagogical principles, notably the science of discipline." My goodness, it would seem to be a perfect match! Drs. Desmond, Mr. Peters, and only a few others were the leaders of the New School. Victor was even publishing in the area. How could they possibly choose anyone else? But, Victor then read further: "Applicants must be female, as St. Mary is a private college for young ladies." "Dr. Desmond, this one is ruling me out even before I apply!" "Victor, you would be a perfect fit for this position and you know it. In fact, they forwarded me this advertisement personally prior to its appearance in The Chronicles, inquiring if I might have someone to send them. You are the one for this job." "Yea, well, unless you're suggesting a sex change operation, I don't think it's a good fit at all." He just looked at me, expressionless. "Dr. Desmond, I'm not going to get a sex change operation." "I wasn't thinking of that, Victor. I was thinking of something a little less radical." I had no idea what he was thinking. I just shook my head and shrugged. "I was thinking, perhaps, that you could pretend you're a woman." "What?!" "Sure, why not?" Dr. Desmond was a pretty radical thinker. I had read his works as an undergraduate and was terribly impressed by his willingness to defy conventional wisdom, to push the outer bounds of social mores, to explore alternative lifestyles, themes, and theories. But, this seemed a bit absurd, if not crazy. "Why not? You ask why not?" "I think you could very easily pass yourself off as a woman." "Well, thanks!" "C'mon Victor, be honest." There was a bit of truth to that, perhaps even considerably more than just a bit. I had to admit that I was a rather feminine appearing male. Well, maybe even more than that. I was only 5'4'', with quite soft facial features. My voice was even naturally high. I used to be tremendously annoyed with charity cold callers that responded to my "Hello, can I help you?" with "Hello, Mrs. Wilson." My voice was high for a man, but was it really that high? Apparently it was. I had at first corrected them, with evident annoyance added to my inflection, but I eventually just gave up and played along. I would sometimes even suggest that I really couldn't make any donations until I spoke to "my husband." Dr. Desmond pushed his argument. "I suppose you're too young to remember 'Bosom Buddies'?" "Bosom Buddies" was indeed well before my time, but I had seen it in syndication. I thought it was pretty funny, particularly as one recognized how far Tom Hanks had come since the days of impersonating a woman. Peter Scolari though was much more convincing as a woman than Tom Hanks. Actually, my friends had often said that I reminded them of Peter Scolari or, when they wanted to tease me, that I would be even more attractive than Peter Scolari. "You want me to be another Hildegarde, Dr. Desmond?" "Sure, why not?" "Dr. Desmond, that was a television show. It was fiction. This is real life!" "Son, have you forgotten your abnormal psychology studies? Are you not aware of the transvestites that spend much of their time dressed as women out there in the general public, fooling everyone around them? And, what about the transsexuals? Many of them will spend years cross-dressing before they obtain an operation. I realize that some of them are rather obviously men, but many, and I do mean many, are really very convincing." He had a point there, but it still seemed awfully absurd. "What do you think of Miss Lumet?" "What has this got to do with Miss Lumet?" Dr. Desmond just smiled, and I quickly got his meaning. "My goodness, Sonney Lumet is a man?!" "I tell this to you in complete confidence, Victor, only to help convince you of the actual possibility of pulling this off. She, or I guess I should say he, is a transvestite. He only let me know about it one night when a few drinks released his tongue." "But, sir, won't they figure it out, through other means? What about the name on my paycheck, my social security number?" "Sonny has it in his real name, Samuel. Payroll at St. Mary, as it is here, is handled by a private firm, separated entirely from the university. There won't be any chance of cross-communication." "Health insurance?" "Handled through payroll, and so again separate." "ID?" "That's handled through personnel, along with the registrar office, and other university administrative matters. For that, you can use your 'maiden' name." "This would really work?" "Absolutely. Seriously, talk to Sonny if you have concerns. I asked him if it would be alright to inform you of his real identity and he agreed, as long as it is quite clear to you that this is to remain in the very strictest of confidence. He would obviously lose his job if he was discovered." Victor did speak to Miss Lumet, and was reassured, much to his surprise. With considerable trepidation, and out of sheer desperation for his academic future, he decided to go through with it. Sonny though proved to be extremely helpful in working on Victor's outward appearance, dress, make-up, and mannerisms. "She" also had a number of transvestite friends who chipped in, finding the "extreme makeover, gender edition," to be a fun challenge. The physical transformation wasn't so difficult, much to the disappointment of Victor. His skin tone was already rather soft. He didn't have much body hair. He didn't even have much of any appearance of an Adam's apple. And, as noted by Dr. Desmond, Victor's voice didn't need any real work. What was most difficult was trying to behave in a feminine manner without acting like a caricature of a woman. Miss Lumet's friends were particularly helpful with that. Renting the entire series of Bosom Buddies helped with confidence and morale, as well as providing some relaxing levity. Deportment was the most difficult part. It was quite hard to learn to walk in a more feminine manner. Sonny suggested imagining that he was wearing a rucksack that was pulling him back and throwing his chest forward, but not too much to make it obvious. Sitting was easier. "She" suggested that he feel the chair with the backs of his legs, always holding the skirt in position, sitting on the front of the chair and pushing back into the seat with shoulders straight. It was fine to sit against the backrest, as long as both legs were slanting to one side and feet were pointing the same way, with one foot slightly in front of the other. He certainly could never slouch, which was his natural inclination. What to do with his hands was often a concern. Miss Lumet encouraged him to clasp his hands lightly together, at the hem of his skirt. How to walk in heels was the worst. That took considerable practice. He wondered if his ankles would survive. Victor though did eventually appear to get the hang of it. They ran Victor through a series of exercises and trials, eventually leading to some practice runs at the mall of a neighboring town: shopping for dresses, make-up, and even lingerie. He passed with flying colors. Actually, that wasn't true. There were a few glitches, particularly within the lingerie department, his eyes naturally wandering to the other ladies within the dressing room. But, when it was done it was clear that he could do it. After one particularly successful sojourn through the mall, Victor was feeling proud of himself. When he returned home to his apartment he paused to admire himself within his bedroom mirror. "Man!" he said, but revised that to "Girl, you are really quite stunning!" He really was that evening. His lashes were quite appealing, his eyes were large and sparkly, his cheeks were full and flushed, and he had the most engaging, fetching, smile. "You know, I wouldn't mind going on a date with myself," and with that he could feel a bit of swelling within his panties. He was told to always wear panties. There might be occasions, although rare, when his underwear might be revealed, at least for a brief moment, and all might be lost if he was wearing masculine boxers or briefs. If he was going to do this, he should go all the way. He didn't mind. In fact, on the contrary, it was one of the aspects of cross-dressing that he enjoyed, from the very beginning. It was difficult not to enjoy the feel of the smooth silk or soft cotton of the various panties he had purchased at Victoria's Secret. It brought back memories of when he was an adolescent and he explored the panty drawer of his older sister. Just the thought of seeing girls wearing those sexy, flimsy, little garments brought on an erection, and then actually exploring, feeling and fondling the panties of his sister, knowing where they would eventually be worn, and knowing how upset she would be if she knew what he was doing, well, on occasion he would just have to take a pair back to his own bedroom. He had never put on any of his sister's panties. At the time he would have thought that to be too girly, too gay. However, now he found it to be rather titillating. And, seeing himself looking so incredibly sexy within the mirror of his bedroom, his face so pretty, his figure so attractive, well, he couldn't help himself. He turned to the side to admire his profile; actually, the profile of his perky breasts. They were not particularly big, but they were very well shaped. Two nice bubbly round boobs. Of course, they were just falsies that he had purchased at an adult shop, but they did look quite real, and quite nice. He recalled the fantasy he had as a child of waking up one day and discovering that his brain had been transplanted into a woman's body; how much fun it would be to have free, private, and total access to the body of a woman all day long. He could feel "her" boobs as long as and in any fashion he wanted. And, of course, he could explore and finger her pussy hours on end, if he wanted. He could even stick his finger up her butt, and she would have to let him do it. He had imagined playing with his boobies during classes at school, and perhaps even fingering himself during a class. How many guys wouldn't want to fondle boobs or finger a girl during class? In his fantasy he would return to a male the next morning, but every once in awhile, if he said the correct magic words, he could, once again, transform his own body into that of a lovely woman that would, once again, be all for his own amusement over the next 24 hours. Well, this was now a pretty good facsimile of his fantasy. As he stood before the mirror, he lightly ran his hand along the curve of his breasts. They were particularly sweet this evening as he was wearing his little hard nipple attachments. Apparently some actresses wear these when the director feels they need to have a good or sustained nipple effect. In any case, they certainly did feel real. His cock swelled within his tight panties as he circled his finger around his taut, perky nipples, his gleeful, naughty feminine grin smiling back at him from the reflection in the mirror, watching the tips of his fingers circling around and around his pointy little nipples. He grasped his left breast with his hand and squeezed. He felt the soft pliancy of the falsie with his hand, and that was really quite pleasing, but, regrettably, his breast was, of course, essentially numb. He could feel the breast, but not his hand. Still, what he felt with his hand was nice, and the picture of him doing it in the mirror was terribly erotic: his masculine hand grasping, squeezing, the soft breast of the lovely girl in the mirror, who seemed to enjoy any and every thing he did. He used his right hand to slowly lift up the girl's pretty, feminine, summer skirt; slowly working his way up her thighs, bit by bit revealing the full length of her brown sheer nylons, past the garter belt holding them up, until finally exposing the front of her tight, silk, pink, bikini panties. He found it to be a very sexy sight, his skirt raised up high, his panties fully exposed, wrapped tightly around an obviously full erection that was so clearly straining against the feminine silk. His dick was clearly much too big for his panties, and the very tip of the soft, purple bulb of his erection was just peeking out over the lacy frill of the panties' waistband. He couldn't understand why he found this to be so sexy, so arousing, but it was clearly a fact and no explanation was really needed. It just felt and looked so hot. He let go of his tit and used his left hand to hold up his skirt as he lightly caressed and stroked his hard cock through the sheer silk panties. His dick bulged even further with the touch of his hand, and the full head of his cock forced its way over the top of his panties. He smiled at its boldness, at the contrast of his manly, hard, tough cock thrusting up and out of the panties. No girly panties could apparently hold his hard dick inside. He never felt so manly as he did now, wearing the girlish panties. He lightly slid his fingers up and down his shaft, admiring how pretty "she" looked: "her" sweet delicate, flowing hairdo, "her" soft fluttering eyelashes, "her" rosy round cheeks, "her" feminine flowered blouse that so nicely wrapped around "her" soft perky breasts, "her" matching skirt raised high to show off "her" pretty pink panties from which thrust his hard, rigid, masculine tool. He wanted to just strip down his panties and grasp hold firmly on his cock, to beat himself off with the intense urgency that so clearly wanted to overwhelm him. But, instead, he just lightly caressed the tip of his swollen dick with his fingers, massaging into the smooth, purplish bulb the wet sticky precum that had leaked from his cock slit. He sighed and groaned with pleasure as he watched himself circle his finger around and around the tip of his dick, poking out over the feminine silk and beneath the upraised skirt. He would never consider himself to be a transvestite, but he felt that he now knew the intense pleasure, the luxury, of being so bathed within feminine attire and yet still so boldly masculine. He groaned and then grunted as he felt the surge in his loins of his orgasm bursting up from his balls. He ripped down his panties with one hand and grasped his shaft firmly with the other, just as his cum shot out from the engorged head of his cock. The cum spurted with considerable force and splatted hard against the mirror, staining the reflection of his panties and dripping down onto his nylons, at least visually. He jerked himself off through the rest of his orgasm, his knees buckling, his head feeling faint as he continued to squirt his load onto the mirror. As his knees buckled his skirt fell back over his cock. He had tucked it under his elbow when he thrust down his panties but he was so overwhelmed by the orgasmic waves sweeping through him that he could not fully control his body or his clothes. He twitched as he felt the soft fabric gently fall against the sensitive skin on the tip of his swollen bulb and his last few spurts splashed against the delicate thin fabric of the sweet summer skirt, staining the feminine cloth with his hot sticky thick cum. Rather than try to avoid any further stain, he wrapped the fabric tightly around the bulb of his cock with left hand as he continued to jerk his cock underneath with his right, tightly wrapping his cock within the feminine folds of his girlish attire, continuing to spray, gush, and stain the pretty cloth with his manliness. When he was done he fell to his knees, so weak and exhausted from such an intense orgasm. He was gasping for breath as he lifted up his skirt to inspect its state, and it was indeed a mess, as the front of the skirt was now thoroughly spoiled with a big sloppy, sticky, wet mess, as was his mirror, the splats of cum now slowly dripping down to the floor. He wondered whether he would be a bit self-conscious about bringing the skirt to a dry cleaner. Perhaps he should consult with Miss Lumet about how to best wash such stains out. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The interview with the Dean of Undergraduate Education at St. Mary, Ms. Lilly Sinclair, went surprisingly smooth. Victor really shouldn't have been surprised, as his credentials were indeed impeccable. "She" was precisely the professor St. Mary was seeking, and they couldn't be happier that she had applied. My Days at St. Mary In fact, when they received her application they were rather surprised. Many universities were favoring the hiring of female applicants, and Dean Sinclair would have expected a female applicant with these credentials to be quite competitive for some of the more favored colleges and universities. St. Mary was a rather small liberal arts college, and certainly didn't have the facilities for research that they would assume "Victoria" (the name he was now using) would need. Victoria, however, explained how she in fact preferred to work within the smaller colleges and was particularly favored toward an all girl's college. She described how she perceived them to be, regrettably, a dying breed of higher education as many of the better known girls' colleges were turning coed over the past couple of decades due to diminishing enrollment. She felt, as a woman, that she wanted to, no, should, dedicate her career to furthering this tradition that was so devoted to the character, the personal upbringing, of the young lady, along with the more traditional academic education. Dean Sinclair was ecstatic with her interview of Victoria. St. Mary couldn't be happier and they made an offer right on the spot. The salary that was offered "her" was not really competitive with what Templeton or Asbury was offering a beginning Instructor, but it was a job Victor so coveted. All he wanted was a salary, any salary. He was ecstatic. He had finally gotten a professorship. St. Mary's administration knew that their salary offer was not terribly competitive, and they frankly wouldn't be surprised if Victoria left just after a few years. They knew that she could do better elsewhere. However, they were at least able to provide her with housing right on campus, a lovely little college that they felt was so much within the spirit of the close knit, St. Mary's family. Victor was ambivalent about the cottage. It would go far in saving him a considerable amount of living expense, but he would have preferred a bit more privacy, for obvious reasons. However, he recognized that it was a very gracious offer and it would have been confusing, if not frankly insulting, to have turned it down. He was though quite pleased to hear that they would also provide him with a bit of laboratory space in which he could conduct his pedagogical research. This was most unusual for incoming St. Mary's faculty, and they did risk some competitive envy among her older colleagues, but they knew that to get the best you had to offer the best, and Victoria would certainly be in need of laboratory space if she was to be an active and productive scholar. They indicated that once she had a clear understanding of the furniture and equipment she might need, they would provide a reasonable budget to equip her lab. Victor called his mentor as soon as he was alone within his cottage. He was so excited, but also quite nervous. He was still terribly worried about being discovered, quite understandably so, but Professor Desmond, who would suffer rather dire consequences himself if his role in this charade was unmasked, reassured him, and encouraged him to maintain regular contact with Miss Lumet for advice and support. The first week was a whirlwind of activities: meeting other faculty, the Board of Trustees, and even the President of St. Mary. He attended two social functions, both of which went quite well. By the end of the week he felt much more confident about pulling this off. Nobody seemed to even suspect that he was a man. On Monday of the following week, as he was setting up his office, he received a call from Dean Sinclair. "Miss Wilson, I know that you must be terribly busy, and I hate to impose on you so soon after your arrival." In actuality, Victor was feeling that, so far, little had been asked of him. "But, nevertheless, I was wondering if you would be willing to demonstrate for our students the necessary level of discipline that should be expected of St. Mary's coeds. We have a recalcitrant miscreant who is in need of some help." Victor knew that he would be called upon to implement (as well as research) the disciplinary methods of Dr. Desmond and Mr. Peters, but he was a bit apprehensive. He had done so a number of times with Mr. Peters and Dr. Desmond, but this would be the first time that he would do so as a faculty member, on his own, and without the guidance of any of his mentors. That fact alone was stressful. It was triply that he would be doing so under the disguise of a woman. Nevertheless, he knew he must surmount this challenge. "Dean Sinclair, I would be most happy to offer my services." "Shall you wish to conduct the affair within your own office, ma'am, or, of course, your lab. I mean, um, where should I direct her to proceed?" Victor had not yet ordered any furniture or equipment for his lab. He would use office. In any case, he was relieved to hear that he was not expected to demonstrate the disciplinary techniques for an audience. At some point he would, but at least at the beginning his first disciplinary execution would be within the privacy of his office. "My office will be fine." "Excellent, well, I will send her right over." Dean Sinclair then proceeded to outline the nature of Melissa Staple's delinquencies, for Victor's consideration. Melissa arrived promptly, feeling very apprehensive. She had heard about the arrival of Miss Wilson and was not looking forward to being the first coed to be the recipient of the new methods of discipline. The absence of knowing specifically what the discipline entailed made it even worse. She knocked timidly on her door. "Yes, please, do come in," instructed Victor, exaggerating somewhat a high pitch in his voice. He knew it was best to speak naturally, but his nervousness got the better of him. Nor could he relax when Melissa entered the room. She was a delightfully pretty girl. She was just a freshman. She was 18, but she was someone who would need to show her ID at any event that had a minimal age restriction. She had long blonde hair, lovely large green eyes (hidden somewhat by her spectacles), a perky little nose, and rosy apple cheeks with the cutest dimples that lit up her face when she smiled, although she wasn't smiling now. Thank goodness for his tight panties. The thought of spanking this minx was so enticing, if not scary. He would have to exercise as much discipline as he implemented. She timidly asked, "Are you Miss Wilson?" "Yes, young lady, yes, and I suspect that you are Melissa Staples?" "Yes I am, ma'am," she replied, providing a deferential curtsy, "and I'm terribly sorry for what I did. I promise I won't do it again." Victor was experienced enough with such matters that he knew Melissa wasn't being entirely forthright. She might in fact herself believe what she was saying, but she was only expressing remorse and resolve out of a fear of being punished. She would say or do anything right now to avoid what was going to happen, whatever that might be. Victor's palms began to sweat as well, although he wasn't sure if it was simply out of apprehension. "I'm sorry, dear, but I must do what is best for you." He hoped that the tension in his voice was not apparent. He might be more nervous about this than Melissa. Actually, that wasn't true. Melissa was much more nervous about it. She had heard among her peers that the New School methods of Miss Wilson included corporal punishment, and she had not herself ever been disciplined in such a manner, even as a child. She was not looking forward to this at all. "What do you want me to do, ma'am?" Victor knew what he wanted her to do, but that was obviously impossible, as well as entirely inappropriate. Dr. Desmond had duly instructed him about the temptations of the New School method. It wasn't that physical contact, even of a sexual nature, was entirely forbidden. It was at times quite helpful, when implemented within a carefully structured and disciplined manner. But, what was going through his mind at the moment was neither structured nor disciplined. What was going through his mind was how the feel of the young lady's naturally puckered young lips would feel kissing the swelling bulb of his hard cock. He shook his head in disgust at himself. His first student and hardly a second had passed before he was allowing himself to harbor obscene sexual fantasies. He was here to do a job, he was so grateful for the opportunity, and he was not about to exploit the situation to satisfy his own base desires. "Well, Melissa, I don't know if you're familiar with the methods of the New School." Melissa clasped her hands, penitently bowed her head, and said quietly, "No ma'am, no I'm not." She said even more quietly, "I'm sorry." "Well, that's alright, dear." He really began to wonder if he could do this. Could he actually spank this young girl's behind? But, he knew he had to. This was the path he had chosen. He was at the plate and it was time to swing his bat. His career and his science demanded it. "Come here now, to the center of the room." "Yes, ma'am," she softly replied, and slowly, timidly, very slowly, stepped to the center of the room, breathing deeply. "What now, ma'am?" she asked, once she had finally arrived at her place. "Melissa," he instructed, "reach down for the, um." He briefly hesitated, "for the hem of your skirt." She did as she was told. Melissa was wearing a loose red striped dress that reached to her ankles. She had to bend over quite a bit to get to the hem, and the roundness of her bottom was momentarily outlined by her dress as she grasped its hem. She then slowly pulled the hem up, revealing first her ankles, dressed so sweetly in white socks, and then her young curved pale calf, the back of her knees, and then her even whiter soft thighs. She stopped, unsure what she should do next, whether she should go further. "Bend over, Melissa, and pull your skirt all the way up over your bottom." Victor's dick swelled further within his panties. Thank goodness he was wearing them. They were much tighter than even his briefs. He had been worried that an unnatural bulge might become evident, particularly for a "woman." Professor Desmond had warned him of this difficulty when he first began to practice the disciplining of female coeds. He had advised wearing tight briefs to hide the occurrence of any unexpected accidents. Actually, such accidents really wouldn't be unexpected but many female students might not appreciate that an erection was an expected outcome when spanking a panty clad bottom. Victor considered informing Professor Desmond that tight feminine panties might be even better at hiding a bulge than male briefs. They certainly felt better, and he allowed himself a brief squeeze of his dick through his own dress. Melissa did as she was told, revealing to Victor the prettiest little fanny he had ever seen. Well, that wasn't really true. He had seen a few under the tutelage of Dr. Desmond and Mr. Peters, but there was something quite special about your first up raised bottom, the first feminine fanny being presented just for you: your own private, personal, girlish derriere. He allowed himself a little smile. It was so delectably cute, so nicely wrapped in Melissa's white cotton panties. Melissa felt quite embarrassed at having to display her panty clad bottom to the new instructor. She would have assumed that only a twelve-year old, actually even younger, would or should have to display herself in such a manner. But, here she in fact was, bent over in an old, stuffy faculty office, her skirt pulled up onto her back, poking her bottom out toward an instructor. At least thank goodness Miss Wilson was a woman! She blushed at the thought of having to do this for a male instructor. Imagine if she was attending Templeton College! She heard that male instructors there might even discipline female students. Just the thought of that made her face redden further, although it seemed plenty embarrassing enough to be showing your pantie bottom like this to anyone, of any gender. Victor could have stopped at that point. His cock would have been satisfied with just this presentation. He was now fully erect within his panties, due in part to the fact that he was lightly tracing the tips of the fingers of his left hand up and down his stiffness. But, in the interest of providing the most effective and beneficial discipline for this young lady, he instructed, "That's good, Melissa, and now pull down your panties so that I can paddle you on your bare bottom." "Oh my goodness, Miss Wilson, must I really?" "Oh yes, my dear, I am afraid so." He rested his right hand on her fanny, conveying through his touch a nurturant, calming empathy for her embarrassed discomfort but, admittedly, enjoying as well the feel of the smooth soft curve of her precious tush. "I know you find this to be a bit embarrassing but you will someday recognize how useful and beneficial such experiences can be as you grow and mature into womanhood." He accentuated his point with a light patting on her derriere. "The embarrassment is itself an important component of the disciplinary experience. It is through these emotions that you will come to more fully appreciate the importance of behaving properly, behaving ladylike." Melissa knew she was right. Miss Wilson was, after all, a professor, and one that was considered among the most informed and educated with respect to the disciplining of young ladies and gentleman. She momentarily wondered if Miss Wilson had ever disciplined a young man before, and whether that had in fact been embarrassing for her. She would think that it would be rather awkward to spank a member of the opposite sex. "Draw your panties down, Melissa." Melissa blushed profusely as she reached back, clasped the waist band of her white cotton panties and slowly pulled them down, slowly bearing to full view her even whiter bottom, so charmingly cute, so round and tender, so deliciously split by the enticing crack that traveled down to an even more delicate and sweet crevice: the slit of her young preciously pretty pussy, terribly open and exposed, as it was covered by only the most winsome down of wispy peach fuzz. "Keep the panties around your knees," Miss Wilson instructed. Mr. Peters had always emphasized that point, as it helped to constrain leg movement as well as add a measure of embarrassment to the pupil, a physical, tangible reminder that her panties were pulled down. "Yes, ma'am," she quietly replied. She hoped that she had carefully bathed herself, there, this morning. There was something so pleasing, so lovable, so provocative, about this pose. The girl was so submissively presenting herself, exposing her most intimate of places, presenting, providing, her feminine charm to whomever, out of her view, could use as "she" pleased. Victor gazed at the enticing display: her taught, smooth, pale, precious fanny poking up so sweetly at him. He again lightly rested his fingers along the impish curve of her bottom. He could see her butt muscles tighten with his touch. "Do not fear, girl," he instructed, "it will not sting too badly." Melissa thought that this is what you would expect to hear from a matron as she disciplined you, and it did little to reassure her. "Bend over further, dear, and grasp your hands behind your knees, holding onto your panties as well. That way they won't fall down." Professor Desmond had instructed that this pose was among the best for presenting most boldly, most provocatively, the feminine charm, as the bottom swells out like a full, round pumpkin, and the crack opens up like a split peach. Victor now had a nice view of even young Miss Staple's puckered little rosebud. Girls often became very embarrassed about that. He pulled her skirt up even higher up and over her body, draping it fully down on top of and over her head, hiding Melissa's face, her eyes, from view. Once he felt safe, hidden from her eyes, he lifted up his own skirt and reached beneath the garment to lightly fondle his erection with his left hand as he fondled her rump with his right. Melissa's eyes opened wide as she felt Miss Wilson again touching her bottom. Her startled eyes darted left and right beneath her dress as she felt Miss Wilson's fingers exploring her naked rump. Melissa was certainly not expecting the professor to be touching her so much in this manner. Something about it frankly did not feel quite right. Miss Wilson didn't seem to be doing anything inappropriate, of course, but it did appear to be a bit intimate. She squirmed a little as she felt her fingers lightly trace along the crack of her bottom. "I must get the feel of the target before I begin, Melissa." Well, that was understandable, but she hardly liked hearing her naked bottom referred to as a target. Smack! "Yipes!" Melissa squealed at the first smack of Miss Wilson's hand on her fanny and instinctively let go of her panties, grasping hold of her stung bare bottom. "Now, dear," Miss Wilson corrected her. "Keep your hands clasping your panties behind the knees, otherwise I will have to give you more spanks." Melissa quickly resumed the proper pose. She certainly didn't want any more spanks than were necessary. She asked timidly from beneath her dress, "How many am I going to get?" "We shall see, dear, we shall she." Melissa sighed in resignation as she presented her tingling bottom to the professor. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! It was not the feel of a feminine hand. It had a quite strong, even masculine, feel. Yet, this was perhaps to be expected. A spanking was not a delicate, feminine affair. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Melissa's bottom danced and pranced as Miss Wilson, Victor, disciplined the young lady. His lips curled in pleasure, enjoying the feel of her soft feminine charm, its increasingly rosy glow, and its delightful squirming and hopping, often bringing into view a tempting peek of her tender cunnie and her naughty little rosebud. Victor squeezed hard on his cock as he continued to smack Melissa's naked bottom. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Melissa appealed for mercy from beneath her dress. "Miss Wilson! Miss Wilson! Please, that's enough, please stop, do please stop." Victor felt considerable sympathy for the girl, as well as a bit of guilt for taking some pleasure in what he was seeing, what he was doing, and what she didn't know. But, any effective spanking did have to be thorough. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Victor continued to paddle her for quite some time, all the while squeezing, clenching, and massaging his stiff dick through the silky smooth panties. It was such a pleasurable affair: the sight of her prancing naked derriere and the feel of her soft springy cheeks. He had to stop the massaging of his cock a couple of times, as he feared going too far. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! He did wonder though if he need be concerned about going too far. He would indeed wet his panties if he continued to fondle himself but would it actually soak all the way through his skirt? He knew it would if he was wearing slacks, but that was in part because they were themselves pressed so tightly against him. Maybe he could just let himself go. It would be so nice, cumming in his panties as he spanked this so pretty feminine fanny. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! "Ma'am, oh, ma'am, oh please, it stings so terribly much." No, no, no. He did have to control himself. It was important to control himself. He was, after all, the professor, and it was ultimately his responsibility to maintain the proper discipline. Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! My Days at St. Mary "Oh my! Oh my! Oh my, Miss Wilson!" Perhaps indeed he had spanked her enough. He stopped the paddling and rested his tired, stinging hand on her bottom, which was now itself also quite red and warm. "Oh, thank you, Miss Wilson, thank you so much!" She was thanking her for stopping, but it did also sound as if she was thanking her for the spanking. It seemed like his one hand could cover almost all of her soft, glowing derriere. He tenderly patted her bottom, this time with maternal, or more accurately, paternal, soothing reassurance. "There, there dear. That wasn't really so bad now, was it?" He wanted so much to remove his cock from his panties, to slide it up in between her crack, perhaps first the larger one, capturing his hard cock within the valley of her soft little cheeks, and then moving down to actually enter her through the more delicate crack of her cunnie. "Oh golly, Miss Wilson, my bottom stings so terribly much!" She shook her red hot fanny at Miss Wilson, at Victor, to underscore her upraised point. Her bottom did indeed sting quite a bit, but it actually wasn't like really painful or anything. It was more like a pepper sting, like her fanny had been sprinkled with spicy hot peppers. "And, it's just so embarrassing, Miss Wilson, to be so exposed to you like this." She was continuing to clasp her hands behind her knees, as Miss Wilson had not yet given her permission to let go. She was trying to be a good girl. "Have you not ever shown yourself to someone before, my dear?" Victor asked, as he softly caressed her buttocks, trying to help ease the sting with the consoling balm of his hand. "Oh my gosh, no ma'am, I mean, well, of course, in gym class certainly, and the doctor, but, well, not like this." He asked, "What is so different about this?" as his fingers again traced along her curves and valley. "Well, ma'am, I mean, it's a little, well, I feel." She really couldn't get herself to say it. "You feel what, my dear?" he asked, as he felt down into her crack. "Please, Miss Wilson, don't make me explain it." Victor slid his fingers deeper down the crack of her bottom to find the soft slitted pouch below. "Oh Miss Wilson!" Melissa gasped as she felt Miss Wilson's fingers reach, and then touch, her most feminine place. "Now don't be shy, Melissa," Victor softly reassured her. "We're all ladies here. This isn't anything to be embarrassed about." "No, ma'am," Melissa replied, but still feeling quite embarrassed indeed. No person had ever touched her there before. Well, her doctor had. But, the touch of Miss Wilson seemed more intimate, more personal. "Have you ever been with a man before, Melissa?" Melissa now felt quite relieved that her face was covered, as she knew it must be beet red. She could hardly look Miss Wilson in the eye when answering such questions as these, particularly when her fingers were touching, exploring, her most intimate part. "Oh no, ma'am, certainly not." "You don't care for men, Melissa?" Victor asked, feeling a bit of moisture on the soft petals of Melissa's cunnie. Some moist pre-cum as well had leaked through the bulge of his panties. Melissa gasped with embarrassment at the misunderstanding, and the particularly awkward time for such a misunderstanding. "Oh my, yes ma'am, I certainly do. I mean, yes I do like men." She then wondered if perhaps this was equally bad. What if Miss Wilson was herself a lesbian? "I mean, well, I prefer men." "Have you ever been with a woman?" This was becoming very, very complicated. She didn't know precisely what was best to say. Well, with a deep breath, she decided that it was probably best to be honest. Honesty is always the best policy. Her mother had emphasized that. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but, I'm not, you know, well, I'm not like that or anything." Her heart pounded as she waited for Miss Wilson's response. Victor laughed with maternal understanding. "My, my, Melissa, you do misunderstand, but that is itself understandable, given the location of my fingers, and, I must say, your reaction to them." Melissa could herself feel the moisture on her lips. She had been hoping so much that Miss Wilson hadn't noticed it. She had at times worried about getting a moist cunnie when the young Doctor Hardy examined her. He was so good looking, and his touch was so gentle, even affectionate. And, now it had apparently happened, in a most unusual circumstance at that. "Now, don't be shy, Melissa. Becoming a little aroused during a spanking is a quite normal reaction," he explained, as he gently slid his fingers up and down her wet slit. "My sakes, you should see what happens sometimes when I must spank the bare fanny of a young man." Melissa's mouth opened in shock and surprise at what Miss Wilson seemed to be suggesting. "You mean, ma'am, that um, well, they sometimes get, uh." She couldn't finish the sentence, getting so confused with her own arousal. "Excited?" Miss Wilson finished the sentence for her. "Oh yes, it's really a natural phenomenon." "You actually see them?" "Well, yes, of course, dear. An erect penis is nothing to be ashamed about," he said, as played with his own with one hand, her wet cunnie with the other. "If I suspect that the young man has become aroused I encourage him to release the member from his slacks so that it doesn't get all constrained and uncomfortable." Melissa began to squirm her bottom again, but this time for a different reason, with a quite different feeling, as she felt Miss Wilson caress her cunnie as she thought about boys' erect penises poking out of their pants. "Golly, Miss Wilson, I've never seen a guy's erect penis before," she quietly confessed. "Really, at your age?" "Oh no, ma'am, my parents would never approve of anything like that and, well, of course, boys, I mean, men, aren't allowed on campus." Victor grasped hard on his cock as he asked the next question, "Would you like to see one someday?" "Oh gosh, yes." Melissa again felt relieved that her face was covered, as she was blushing so deeply with this admission and Miss Wilson's fingers were doing such wonderful things to her cunnie. She wondered if she would have ever admitted such a thing to a lady professor, any professor, if it wasn't for the fact that her face was hidden. The other fact, that her cunnie was getting so hot and wet with the continuing caress of Miss Wilson's fingers did probably also help her admit to such hopes, such fantasies. "Well, if you become a disciplinary instructor, I suspect that you will see quite a few of them, and you may indeed need to take them all the way through to fruition." Victor briefly shifted his fingers away from her lips to lightly, then forcefully, squeeze and rub Melissa's equally erect clit. "Miss Wilson!" She was shocked by both the remark and the contact with her clitoris. Her heart was racing. She was so very glad that her face was hidden. "Oh yes, honey. It's really not good for the young man to become terribly aroused without relief, and, besides, it's often useful to end the discipline with a more positive experience with the instructor. I'm sure your mother, or father, gave you a nice hug after you were spanked as a young girl. The most effective pedagogy does include both a carrot and the stick." "Yes, ma'am," Melissa murmured, feeling a strong desire within herself to gain some relief as well. She softly moaned under her dress as she felt the professor rub and massage her clitoris. "You have received the stick quite well, Melissa. You've been a very good girl. Would you like the carrot as well?" Melissa confessed, most quietly, almost too quietly for Victor to hear. "Yes, ma'am." Victor knew what carrot he would like to provide Melissa, but he also knew that would probably be going a bit too far, as well as taking quite a chance. It would not be good for a student to know of his secret. "Unnh!" Melissa grunted and lurched, as she felt Miss Wilson's finger slip up into her tight, wet, hot, feminine canal. She was indeed terribly tight. "Oh my, Melissa, you really haven't been with a man before, have you?" "No, ma'am, I'm sorry." "Oh honey, that is really nothing to be sorry about." He breathlessly explained, "Your first boy will appreciate this so very, very much. Here, let me get into a better position for this." Victor couldn't resist any further. He pulled down hard on the waistband of his panties to free his bulging, straining cock from its tight restraint. His dick leaped out like snake springing toward its prey, and he grabbed hold tightly onto it with his left hand as the index finger of his right snaked up deeper and deeper into the girl's hot tight hole. Melissa gasped, "Oh Miss Wilson, that does feel so good." Victor stroked his cock as he inquired. "You must have done this for yourself before, have you not?" "Yes ma'am," she again quietly confessed. She really could hold no secrets from Miss Wilson. She seemed to know her so well already. "But, it does feel better to have someone else do it for you, doesn't it." "Yes ma'am." She could barely be heard. Her bottom was now openly wiggling and squirming. She knew that she wouldn't last much longer. Victor applied his thumb to her little erect clit as he worked his finger in and out of her squishy, slurping cunt, now openly dripping, releasing, even squirting its wetness onto her thighs and Mr. Wilson's fingers and hand. Melissa's face was hidden but she still wanted to cover her face with her hands, she was so mortified at the obscene noises her cunnie was making, but she kept her hands clasped tightly behind her knees, as Miss Wilson had instructed. "Have you done this for the boys as well, Miss Wilson?" She did want to ask, as the thought of masturbating a boy after spanking him was somehow, perhaps for obvious reasons, preoccupying her mind. "Oh yes, they have their own special carrots, you know." Melissa giggled at the naughtiness of the image, of masturbating a boy's red, erect carrot. She clenched Miss Wilson's much smaller carrot with her pussy, as it worked its way in and out of her cunnie. "Is it also, kind of, you know, fun, to play with it?" "Oh yes, dear. It can feel so big and hard in your hand," he responded, as his own dick did in fact feel just that way at the moment. "Oh Miss Wilson," she whispered. "If you keep doing that, I'm afraid it's going to happen." It would be so terribly embarrassing to actually orgasm in front of the professor, right on her finger, her bottom so obscenely displayed, wiggling on her finger. "Let it happen, Melissa. It will be fine. It will be good, for the both of us. Doesn't your bottom still sting a bit?" "Yes, ma'am, a little," although, at the moment, it was feeling like a most wonderful sweet stinging. "Well then, let me apply some lotion to this sweet little bum to help soothe and comfort her." "Yes, yes, thank-you, ma'am" she gasped, her breathing becoming so rapid, the blood rushing to both her head and cunnie, feeling now like she might even faint. Victor pounded even harder on his cock, thankful that Melissa's cunnie was making so much slurping and slopping noises that it covered well the sound of his hand sliding up and down his dick. It was a little awkward using his left hand on his cock, his right on her cunt and clit, but at least Melissa was now doing much of the thrusting herself on his finger, allowing him to concentrate on her clit and his dick. It was not long before he could provide her with his soothing balm. "Here it is, Melissa," he gasped, as he felt his loins surge and cock twitch as the first gush of cum exploded from his dick and spurted onto her blushing bottom. Melissa sighed with pleasure as she felt the lotion splash and splat on her buns. "Oh yes, thank you so much, Miss Wilson." It did feel nice to have the warm cream so generously applied to her stinging cheeks. She smiled with relief as Miss Wilson squirted the soothing salve onto her fanny and she was then herself swept off by her own orgasm coursing through her body, her cunt instinctively engulfed in spasmodic contractions, clenching Miss Wilson's deeply buried finger and grinding against her massaging thumb. Victor watched with a light-headed delight as his thick, white gism gushed all over the little pink upraised rump. The contrast in color was really quite attractive, although the deep sense of orgasmic relief and rapturous pleasure that was engulfing him did probably color his judgment. In any case, he smiled as he unloaded a generous application of his healing lotion all over her rump. His legs felt weak and his body was lurching with his own spasms, but he carefully aimed here and there to provide the fullest possible coverage. Melissa felt the warm, wet splashes on her bottom as her body wracked and twitched with her orgasm. It was so nice of Miss Wilson to do this for her, to give her such a nice, lovely carrot, as well as help soothe her stinging bottom. She sighed with pleasure as she felt the orgasmic surges sweep through her body, whilst her bottom responded to the soothing of Miss Wilson's healing lotion as she continued to flick and rub her clit. This discipline session really wasn't so bad after all. When he was done Victor squeezed out a few remaining drops onto her bottom and quickly pulled his panties back up to hide the lotion's source. He was feeling deliriously fine, and he basked in the after glow of his climax by softly spreading his gism all over her bottom. "Here, dear," he said with considerable airiness in his voice, "let me work it in a bit. It will be better that way." "Oh yes, thank you, ma'am." Melissa was herself gasping for breath. She didn't really want to talk. But, she had to admit, "Goodness, ma'am, the cream does really feel terribly nice." "That's good, dear. It's actually quite thick with nutrients, as well." Once he was done with the administration of the lotion, he stepped back to admire the sight of the red bottom, now sparkling in the light with its full coverage of cum. Though, if he studied the sight too long, he might feel the need for another application, and that would be hard to explain. "Yes, well, that will do. You can pull your panties back up and straighten your skirt now." Melissa did as she was told, although she did almost faint as she stood back up. Her face in fact appeared to be redder than her fanny had ever been. She gave Miss Wilson a hug. "Thank you so very much, Miss Wilson. I promise I will behave better now." "I'm sure you will, Melissa. But, if you feel the need for it, my door will remain open if you would like further counseling. "Oh yes, ma'am!" She wasn't expecting that. "I would be so terribly grateful." It was most generous of the professor. "Yes, of course, of course." He added as well, "Perhaps, as well, we might in fact discuss further your concerns regarding young gentlemen?" Melissa's face lit up. "Oh Miss Wilson! Would you? Please?" She did in fact have quite a few questions she would like to ask the professor. She felt now that she could ask Miss Wilson just about anything, after all they had just been through. "Absolutely dear. I do in fact know quite a bit about boys. I would be very happy to help with any personal instruction you might wish." Melissa blushed at that and quickly scampered from Miss Wilson's office, feeling quite flushed and confused, but it was precisely what she wanted to hear. She knew that she would soon call her to set up another appointment for personal counseling. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Victor found that he could not be more happier with his decision to take this job. Being a professor had always been his dream, and it was now being realized. Dr. Desmond had been correct. The disguise wasn't really that difficult. He was in fact quite pleasantly surprised at how easy it became as he slowly grew into his role. There continued to be some awkward moments. For instance, it was evident that the girls were not as self-conscious or modest when they knew that no male was in the room. When he had lectured at Livingston the young ladies in the classroom were, with only the most rare of exceptions, quite modest with regard to the manner in which they presented themselves. Legs would be tight together, skirts pulled down. But, he found that he was pleasured by quite the display of lily white thighs and cotton panties when he was lecturing at St. Mary. It was like he was gazing upon a colorful garden of cunnie mounds. Some wore pink, some white, some violet, some aqua, some cyan, some indigo, some chartreuse. It was often a remarkably colorful garden. So many young fresh flowers. His dick would be stiff as a steel rod by the time he completed his lecture. Thank goodness for his tight panties, although at times he needed to make an adjustment during a lecture, which wasn't easy with a full dress. A short skirt would be easier for such efforts but he wasn't terribly confident about the attractiveness of his legs. One thing was for sure, he had become terribly sympathetic with the amount of time and effort a woman gave to her appearance. Putting on make-up wasn't too bad. He had to admit that he rather enjoyed how he could transform himself into a reasonably attractive woman with the careful application of lipstick, rouge, and blush. But, the shaving of the legs was simply a chore, and the end result never seemed that satisfying. No, best to keep his dresses long. He found though that it helped if he cut a hole in a pocket of his skirt so that he could surreptitiously adjust himself as he stood behind a podium. He did, however, occasionally drop keys or coins to the floor when he absent mindedly put them into his bottomless pocket. This adjustment to his garment proved to have other benefits as well, as he could also more easily play with himself during advantageous moments. And one such moment did soon arrive. Melissa had scheduled an appointment for her personal, private tutoring. Upon her arrival it took her awhile to get to the point. Victor invited her to sit next to him on the couch, where they would be more comfortable. Informality is best during such personal discussions. It really wasn't an easy topic though for Melissa to broach, but she so much wanted the guidance and instruction of Miss Wilson and so she eventually, with the patient support and assistance of her instructor, she opened herself up. "Well, you see, ma'am, it's just that I really don't know anything about it at all." "About what precisely, my dear," placing his hand comfortingly on her knee. "Well, golly, Miss Wilson, I really don't know if I can say." "Melissa, you are safe with me. I am your instructor, and you should feel free to speak to me about any matter. I will not be embarrassed, nor should you be as well." "Why I do thank you for that, Miss Wilson. The thing is, well, I wonder if you could tell me about, you know." She lowered her voice to a whisper, as if someone could hear through the door of his office. "Men." "Men? Me?" "Well, of course, Miss Wilson. I mean, a woman as old as yourself." She instantly recognized her error. "Oh no, I didn't mean, I mean, you're not that old. You're not really that old at all." He smiled reassuringly and patted her knee. "I understand. I know what you meant." "Yes ma'am, I just meant, like in terms of experience and everything. An attractive woman as yourself must be experienced in the world." She again realized that this wasn't really sounding right. "I mean, well, I don't mean that in any bad way." Victor squeezed her knee. "Melissa, I understand what you are trying to say. I have had my share of 'experiences.'" Melissa blushed. "It's just that, Miss Wilson, that I could never talk to my parents about any of these things, and I am just too embarrassed to speak to the other girls about it. They will think of me as being so naive, so childish. I want to talk to a woman about it, someone I can trust." My Days at St. Mary Victor felt a bit guilty. Perhaps this really wasn't quite right. This girl was putting her trust in him, and it was clear that he wasn't being entirely honest with her. Yet, it was his sincere intention to be helpful, to provide her the guidance and instruction that she wanted, that she needed. "You can trust me, dear." "Well, Miss Wilson, it's just that I've never actually even seen one before." "Seen what?" "Golly, Miss Wilson, do I have to say, I mean, out loud?" "Now, Melissa, the more comfortable you become talking about it, the more comfortable you will be actually doing it." Doing it? Just the thought of that made Melissa blush once again. Imagine doing it! She really couldn't imagine ever really doing it. Well, that's not true. She had imagined it quite a few times. It was just that she was so unsure about it. "Okay, you're right, Miss Wilson, of course you are." She took a deep breath and said, "His penis. I've never actually seen a penis before." Victor could feel his own growing within his panties. "You've never seen a penis?" It was rather hard to believe. She must have seen at least seen one. "Well, of course, I've seen pictures and everything." She turned her face away. She didn't want the teacher to see her embarrassment. "I know what it looks like. I've just not seen one in real life and everything." Victor could have shown her one right now, and would have been very happy to do so, but he could hardly reveal his secret so soon, so quickly, and he wasn't too sure that Melissa would in fact like to see his. It would probably be a bit of a shock. "Well, honey, I don't know how I can help you with that." "Oh, I know, I know." She felt so silly. "I mean, I wondered, if, um, you could though, when I do get to see one." Her voice again got real quiet. "Tell me what to do with it." "Well, honey, there are lots of things you can do with it. You just have to trust your instincts. It will come to you." If they talked about this too long, so would his, in his panties. He reached into his skirt, through the slit pocket and, taking advantage of the fact that she was looking away, adjusted the position of his swelling cock. She turned back to him, giving him her most beseeching, entreating expression, like she was a child pleading for a new toy. "But, I want you to show me. Won't you please, Miss Wilson?" "But, honey, it's not like I have one in my office," he replied, holding a stiff one at that very moment in his office, in his hand. Melissa again looked away. She was thinking of something, thinking very hard, wondering if she should tell her, wondering if she should take the chance. She sighed deeply. She turned back to her teacher. "Miss Wilson, can I show you something?" "Well, of course, my girl. Of course you can." "Promise me you won't tell anyone?" "Absolutely." "Promise me you won't get mad or tell on me?" She knew that was asking a lot. How could an instructor, particularly the one specializing in discipline, make a promise like that? But, her faith in Miss Wilson was reassured. "I promise. It will be our secret." Melissa smiled, albeit quite nervously. She would confess the truth. "Um, well, I have one, Miss Wilson." "Excuse me? You have one?" How weird could this be? He couldn't believe what he just heard. "Yes, yes I do. In my purse. I'll show it to you." He breathed a sigh of relief. Of course she didn't have one. He had seen her cunnie himself, but he had to admit that, for the moment, he was a bit confused, for obvious reasons. Melissa reached into her purse and pulled out a rubber erect penis. It was actually a pretty good facsimile. It wasn't one of those smooth plastic dildos. It actually looked like a copy of a real one, including even the balls (although hairless) plus some veins and a rather compelling texture. "Oh my," Victor replied. "Oh no, you're not angry are you? Is this terribly wrong? Oh no, I'm sorry." She started to put it back into her purse. "No, no, dear. It's fine, really. I was just a bit surprised. I mean, my goodness." "I know, I know. I feel like a pervert or something." "Honey, absolutely not. This is good. It's fine to have one of these." He leaned in closer to Melissa. "I have my own penis." Melissa turned and smiled, this time with a really big smile. "Really?! Do you really? Can I see yours?" It was a reasonable request but it did take Victor by surprise. "Oh, well, um, I." Melissa saved him from having to lie. "Well, of course, I'm sorry, of course, you wouldn't have it here. I haven't had mine for very long. I just got it a few weeks ago. How long have you had yours?" She realized that she probably shouldn't have asked that question. It was a bit personal, but they were talking about quite personal things. "Oh, quite awhile, Melissa, pretty much quite awhile." "Do you use it? I mean, you know, to, um." It was very hard to say this, but Miss Wilson had made it clear that she should speak about everything, about anything. Melissa did though at least whisper the question. "To make you excited?" "Oh yes, dear, certainly." He leaned in closer to Melissa, almost whispering in her ear, "I enjoy playing with my penis very much." "You don't think it's dirty or wrong, or anything?" "Oh no, dear. It's really perfectly fine to play with an erect penis." Melissa could feel her face getting red again. It seemed so terribly naughty and wrong to be talking about an erect penis out loud like this, but it was also itself a little exciting. "Would you show me how to use it?" "Well, Melissa, I would be happy to." "Oh goodie!" She gleefully handed over the erect penis to Victor. Victor took the penis in his hand but wasn't quite sure what she wanted him to do with it, and was even less sure that he would be willing. "Um, well, I mean. What would you like me to show you?" "Well, first, show me how you make a guy happy, you know, what you do with it. What guys like you to do with it." Victor didn't mind showing her how to handle it. That would be okay. He removed his hand from his own cock, took it out of his pocket, and gently took hold of the fake one's balls to keep it steady. He then demonstrated to her how he masturbated. Melissa slid over tight against him and leaned down closely to watch as Victor stroked the erect cock in his lap. He explained how it is helpful to try all sorts of different things, to at times just lightly caress, at other times to grasp firmly and stroke hard and fast, to perhaps tickle the tip with just the tips of your fingers, or then maybe caress the tip with the palm of your hand, or dance your fingers along the stem, like you're playing a flute. That wasn't particularly stimulating perhaps, but it didn't always have to be. It was just good to be playful, to show him that it was just about as much fun for you as it was for him, that you really enjoyed giving him pleasure. He particularly emphasized how a guy is often most sensitive on the underside of the crown. "That's where you may really want to use your tongue." Melissa blushed at that suggestion. "You would really put it in your mouth?" "Guys do really like that a lot, Melissa," he replied, avoiding the actual question. It seemed like a terribly dirty thing to do, but also rather thrilling. She was so happy to be having this discussion with Miss Wilson. Her instructor was being terribly helpful. "Would you show me how to do that?" Victor furrowed his brow. It was odd. He didn't mind pretending to masturbate the fake penis, particularly as it was sitting in his lap, as if it was his own. And, frankly, he wouldn't mind performing oral sex on himself. He had tried to do so as a kid, but he had never been sufficiently limber. But, sticking this fake erection into his mouth didn't seem quite right. It seemed to lose the sense that it was his own. "Well, Melissa, why don't you try it and I will help you with it." Melissa's face again got redder. It seemed to be a little embarrassing to be actually doing it in front of the professor. She looked back at the office door. It was still closed. What if someone came in? "Okay, well." She started to lean her face down into Miss Wilson's lap, as if she was going to suck her off. Victor's cock was straining in his panties as Melissa's face moved closer. He wondered if perhaps he could somehow convince her to wear a blindfold. Then maybe pull his own out of his pants? No, no, that was way too risky. In any case, this position was not a good one for teaching. "Another thing to consider, Melissa," he intervened, "is your position. You can do this in a lot of different ways Like the way you're doing now, for example. But, I can't really see what you're doing if you do it that way. Here, why don't I make room for you, between my legs." It was rather awkward and a bit risky. He bunched up his skirt so that Melissa could kneel between his legs. "Guys like it this way because they can see what you're doing." Melissa got into position, blushing as she did so. She wasn't sure exactly why, but it did seem a little embarrassing to be on her knees in between the knees of her professor, about to place her lips on her penis. Victor placed the erection in his crotch, grasping hold of his own cock as he aimed the fake one at Melissa's angelic, upturned face. "This way, Melissa, he can see your pretty eyes and sweet, lovely lips as you kiss the tip." Melissa smiled up at him, her eyes shining through her glasses, and followed his instruction. She leaned forward, pursed her lips, and planted a long firm kiss on the tip. "Now just caress the tip with your lips." She did as she was told. "And, now, slip out your tongue and tickle the underside." She looked so lovely doing so. It was terribly erotic, terribly exciting, watching this pretty, this sweet, girl making love to "his" cock between his legs. If only it was in fact his cock. It wanted to be kissed now so terribly much. They continued the lesson for some time. Melissa found that the fake penis didn't really taste that good. She wondered if a real penis would taste better. It probably would, or at least it should. But, that didn't stop her from really working hard at it. In fact, Melissa soon found herself really enjoying it. She plunged her face down onto the cock and then bobbed her head up and down, slobbering and slurping the erection in and out of her mouth. She did it in all sorts of different ways, as Miss Wilson had instructed, often smiling up at her, like a proud student displaying her talents. After awhile, Victor knew that he would have certainly cum by now if this had in fact been his cock and, with his surreptitious fingering of his dick through his dress, it wouldn't be much longer anyway. "You're doing great, Melissa, really, really nice. You see, it just comes natural." Melissa wasn't so sure about that, as Miss Wilson had been giving her quite a few pointers and suggestions. In any case, it was awfully fun to pretend like this. She was beginning to feel as excited as the penis. "Golly, Miss Wilson, I didn't know that I would enjoy doing that so much, and it's not even a real one." He lightly caressed her apple red cheek as she smiled so gleefully up at him, her eyes sparkling through her spectacles. "It would so neat if I had a real one to play with. I could then make it squirt and everything. That would be so cool." "Yes, yes, it would." That would indeed be cool. He couldn't disagree with that. She hesitated to say the next thing, what she wanted to do next. "You know, well, um." He cupped her chin in his fingers. "Go ahead, Melissa, what would you like?" "Can you show me now how to use it, you know, to excite myself?" "I would love to, Melissa." That was probably the most honest statement he had made. "Oh goodie!" She leaped up from the floor and flopped onto her back on the couch, her face all aglow with the thought of what was about to happen next. "You know, Miss Wilson, it got me kind of excited already, doing that." "Well, Melissa," he replied, shifting his own position on the couch. "I must admit that it got me a little excited as well." "Really? Cool." She had been so terribly worried about Miss Wilson's reaction to wanting her to teach her like this. She would not have been at all surprised if Miss Wilson had just sent her out of her office to go take a cold shower. But, instead, she was actually enjoying it herself. "You know, most of the time while I was doing it, you know." "Doing what, Melissa?" Melissa smiled knowingly. She knew that Miss Wilson wanted her to speak openly about these things. "Performing oral sex," she said quietly. "Is that what you would call it, if I was a guy?" "Golly, Miss Wilson, okay, okay. Most of the time when I was going down on it." That wasn't what he really wanted to hear her say, but she was getting better. "I was thinking that it was some guy. I was imagining that it was a cute guy I knew. But, a couple of times, when I looked up at you, at your face, I even thought it was your penis." "My what, Melissa?" "Miss Wilson! Please!" "You need to say it, Melissa." "Okay, okay, your cock. Your big hard cock! I pretended that it was also your big hard cock I was sucking." There she had said it, and she was happy that she had. "Well, Melissa, if I did have a 'big hard cock,' as you so indelicately put it, I would be very happy to have you suck on it." Melissa giggled at the thought and their little playful pretending. "What do you want me to do now?" "Well, first, why don't you lift up your skirt and I will take off your panties." Melissa giggled some more as she did as she was told. She wiggled and squirmed her legs as she felt Miss Wilson's hands moving up along her smooth, white skin, past her milky thighs to grasp the waistband of her panties. It was the hands of a woman, but it did still feel so terribly exciting to be having someone else, someone so much older and mature than her, pull down her panties, particularly for the purpose of using a penis on her. Victor hesitated before he pulled them down. He first wanted to admire them. Thank goodness the girls of St. Mary were not required to wear a uniform, as was the case at Templeton. They were free to select their own panties, and he admired Melissa's. They weren't really sexy panties, but they were awfully cute. They were a tight yellow cotton with little pink hearts all over them. "I simply adore your panties, Melissa." "Oh, thank you, Miss Wilson." She was pleased. They were among her favorites. "You don't think they're too childish looking do you? I mean, well, do you think a guy would like them?" "Oh yes, I'm sure he would," he replied, as he slowly pulled them down. Melissa lifted up her bottom to help Miss Wilson get them off. She felt so proud. She felt so all grown up, so womanly, but yet still very nervous and self-conscious, knowing what Miss Wilson would now see, and what she was about to do. Victor did enjoy immensely what he did in fact see. Melissa had the cutest little pussy. It had just a sprinkling of hair, more like a peach fuzz than a bushy growth. It did nothing to hide from view her sweet charm: a pure delicate slit traversing the soft tender mound, which at the moment was glistening with her feminine dew. Melissa covered her eyes. "Don't look at it, Miss Wilson," she implored, "it's embarrassing." "No, no, Melissa," he countered. "It's really wonderful. So very, very pretty." Melissa spoke from behind her hands. "You really think so? You think it's pretty?" "Oh, I think it's just lovely. It's good enough to kiss." He sorely wanted to do that. Melissa though was quite surprised. "Will guys really kiss it down there?" "Well of course, Melissa. I mean you just got through kissing him pretty good down there." She pulled her hands from her face. "I guess." "Would you like me to do it, Melissa? Just to see what it would feel like?" "Oh no, no. I think that would be too weird. I mean, you being a woman and everything." Well, here was finally one detriment to the disguise. "Oh, I really wouldn't mind, Melissa." Melissa again feared that she might have offended the professor. "Oh my, no, I mean, I think it's okay for people to do that, but, well, it's just not me." Victor didn't press it. He didn't want to have the girl do anything that she didn't want to do, or wouldn't enjoy. It did seem funny though, as it would be the same lips touching her if he took of the disguise. Well, in any case, he picked up the erect penis. "Oh my," squealed Melissa as she saw Miss Wilson pick up the erection. "I can't believe I'm really going to do this." "What are you going to do, Melissa? Or, more precisely, what am I going to do?" Melissa beamed but flushed as she said it, "You're going to put your erection in my cunnie." Victor was, sort of. He felt like a mirror to the real Victor Victoria: a woman pretending to be a man pretending to be a woman, but then, actually he was perhaps the real Victor Victoria. That had just been a movie. He really was a man pretending to be a woman pretending to be a man. He would prefer not to be pretending at all but, still, it was also strangely erotic to be using this artificial penis on the young lady, helping her to learn how to pleasure herself, and be with a man. Victor spoke softly, "It's nice to first just caress your cunnie with the penis; softly, gently, moving it up and down the lips, exploring its shape, its curves, with the tip of the penis." Melissa could feel her heart quickening in pace. This was all so very dirty: the professor using a penis to play with her pussy. She watched the penis, her first penis, slide up and down her young fresh lips. It was so terribly naughty that she actually felt uncomfortable looking further. She pulled her skirt up higher to cover her head, to hide her face. Victor smiled at her shyness, hiding beneath her upraised skirt, but it was clear that she was enjoying it. "It's really very helpful to play with it like this, to get you moist and ready for it to be inserted." Melissa was breathing heavily. "Don't talk about it like that," she protested. "But, sweetie, it's your own loveliness that gets moist, moist with your arousal, moist because you want my penis." "Yes, ma'am," she whispered. "And, what is it that you want?" She replied ever so softly, "I want your penis, your erect penis." "No, no, Melissa, not just my erect penis." "Oh ma'am, must I say it again?" Victor pulled away the penis, but did not deny her entirely. He slid his thumb up her lips, to gather her moisture, and then applied the thumb to her clit, softly pressing down as he circled it around and around. "Oh, Miss Wilson," she gasped. "And, what is it that you want, my Melissa?" "Oh, ma'am," she confessed, "Your cock, ma'am, your big, hard cock!" He brought it back to her lips, firmly placed it against the gate of her femininity, and pressed it inward, as he continued to circle his thumb around and around her clit. "Oh, ma'am!" Melissa gasped, clasping the fabric of the couch with her hands, pressing back against her cock with her pelvis. He worked it in slowly, not plunging so hard as to hurt her. Instead, he slowly screwed it in, pushing in a bit, then pulling back, in a bit further, then drawing back, and Melissa met his screwing with her own squirming and thrusting, feeling rather obscene in doing so, but losing any sense of modesty to her lust, to the passion that was overwhelming her. As it was overwhelming Victor, as well. He was up on his knees, ostensibly to get a good angle to work, but also to be able to lift up his own skirt, and with Melissa's face, her eyes, covered by her skirt, he withdrew his hand from her clit to withdraw his cock from his panties. My Days at St. Mary It felt so good to free it from its constraints and to grasp it within his hand, to pleasure his own cock as he used the other cock to pleasure her. Melissa did not notice. Her face was covered, her eyes were closed, and she was lost in her own fantasy. As she thrust her hips, trying to draw in the cock deeper and deeper, trying to ignore the slurping and slushing sounds of her cunt, she fully confessed, "Miss Wilson, I, I," her voice was airy, her breathing pressured, "I enjoyed it, you know, um, when, when, when, you, um, spanked me." Victor smiled, "I know, I know, dear. Many girls do. Would you like me to apply the lotion again? It will help with lubrication." She gripped the couch harder as she could feel her excitement mounting, "Yes, yes ma'am, please do." She wondered if she really needed it, as she could feel her juices sliding down to her buttocks, but the lotion would in fact be helpful in hiding the embarrassment of her own sloppy wetness. "Miss Wilson," she breathlessly asked, her hips gyrating with his screwing, "do you think a boy." She panted as she felt the cock plunge deeper inside, "would be, um, willing to, um, to, to spank me?" "I imagine so, if you asked him." He hesitated, and added, "politely." "Oh Miss Wilson," struggling to speak but wanting to hear more, "Tell me again, tell me, tell me how you play with their things after you spank them." She was now openly thrusting her pelvis, quite forcefully fucking the fake cock. "Oh yes," he replied, watching the cock work in and out of the girl's cunt as he pounded on his own, imagining what it would be like to be inside that little slit. It must be so wet, so hot, so tight. "It's really quite fun to get them hard." But, it was a good close second to be watching her cunt squirm, grip, and cunnie suck on the cock in his hand as he stroked his own in a comparably tight grip. "I'll sometimes even play with them while I spank them." "Oh my, oh my. I would like to do that sometime." She imagined doing so, imagined playing with a boy's cock as she spanked him as Miss Wilson fucked her on the couch. "That would be so terribly fun." "Oh it is, it is, especially when they squirt their penises. They get all stiff and hard, and suddenly," he bent forward, feeling the surge within him as his cum leaped from his cock and splatted on the lovely lily white mound. He gasped, "It just jerks and twitches in your hand and starts gushing and spurting white hot cum all over the floor, on your hand, or even, even, all over themselves." And with the feel of the lotion being squirted on her precisely the same time as he described the boys squirting their things, her body stiffened and then spasmed as her orgasm swept through her, overwhelming her in convulsive waves. "Oh ma'am, Miss Wilson," she gasped, her body twitching and shuddering with an overwhelming rapture. It was lovely, just pure animalistic, base ecstasy. Victor kneeled above her, squirting his gism onto the lips of her twitching cunnie, covering her white lovely mound and swollen red lips with his white, soothing cream, soon collecting so much that it began to drip down past her cunnie toward, into, her bottom, resting on her anus, gathering in a little pool on her puckered rosebud. Melissa just gave herself over to her base pleasure, again basking in the delight of her orgasm as the professor generously applied her sweet balm. When it was done she just lay there, panting with exhaustion, her face still covered by her skirt, feeling now even more self-conscious, more embarrassed, at having behaved so wantonly in front of the professor, her cunnie so openly exposed, and sore. It wasn't a chaffed soreness, but just so terribly stretched, so worked. She reached down and rubbed Miss Wilson's lotion into her tender swelling. "Oh, Miss Wilson, your lotion does feel so nice." - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Melissa had many subsequent tutoring sessions with Miss Wilson, and she enjoyed them very much. She felt that she was learning a great deal. In fact, it eventually became clear that it was time to move on, to leave the nest, the safety of Miss Wilson's bosom, and venture out to discover a real, live penis. Victor was, of course, disappointed, or at least ambivalent. The mentor is naturally disappointed to see his charge leave, although yet also proud to have served her well, to have been so helpful, so influential in her growth that now allowed her to venture out on her own. And, besides, in the meantime, he had begun working with a number of other pupils, some engaging in independent study and others working within his lab on the science of discipline. Melissa though did want Victor's guidance for this next, very important, step. "Perhaps, ma'am, you might have someone in mind?" "Excuse me?" "Well, I value so much your opinion, and your guidance. I was hoping that you could recommend someone." Melissa felt a little nervous to be asking this of Miss Wilson, but they had grown awfully close through their sessions. Victor though wasn't entirely sure he understood what she was asking of him. He had a strong hypothesis but he would really need it to be confirmed before he responded. "Recommend someone precisely for what?" Melissa scowled petulantly at Miss Wilson. She didn't really want to talk "precisely," but this had always been one of Miss Wilson' pedagogical principles: one must be able to speak openly about it to learn how to do it. "I want you to help me find a guy who will let me practice with his penis." That was what he thought she had been suggesting, but it was certainly not what he was expecting from the girl. "Well, honey, I think you should find a boyfriend. That's what all girls do." "Oh, I know, I know, Miss Wilson. But, of course, there are no actual boys here at St. Mary's and, besides, I wanted to practice with a more mature man. Someone who can teach me, like you have, and then when I find a boy, I won't mess it up." "Sweetie, you won't mess it up. Believe me. You already know much more than many other girls and, besides, it can be enjoyable learning it together." Melissa could see that Miss Wilson clearly wasn't getting the point, or at least she didn't really seem to understood her need, her desire. "Yes, but I want to learn from someone older than me. Someone with experience." Victor now understood, at least he thought he did well enough to move forward. "Well, I do know of someone." "Really!? You do!?" She considered herself so lucky to have met Miss Wilson. What other instructor at St. Mary would have helped her in such a delicate matter? "You know, it has to be someone I don't know, and I don't want him to be working here." She knew though that neither of those concerns would be a problem. There were very few men working at St. Mary, beyond maintenance, grounds keeping, or janitorial staff. These were conditions though that were a problem for Victor. The person he was thinking of did work at St. Mary and Melissa did know him, sort of. However, because Melissa knew that this wasn't a real problem, she didn't wait for an answer and moved on quickly to her more serious concerns. "He is someone who will keep this a secret won't he?" "Oh yes, you can be certain of that." "And, you respect him and like him, and everything." "Absolutely." "And, he is, well, at least half way decent looking." She felt bad to ask for this, but certainly that should be understandable. "Well, I think he is, I mean I consider him to be." "And, he's about as old as you?" "Pretty much the same." "What does he do for a living?" "Well, in fact, Melissa, he is also a professor." Wow, that was a tremendous bonus. She very much valued that in Miss Wilson. She had assumed that she would know a professional man: a lawyer perhaps, or maybe even a doctor or something, but hadn't expected that he would also be a professor. She was delighted. "Where?" "Well, Melissa, I do believe that for the both of you, for the sake of ensuring your confidentiality, we should perhaps respect his as well." "Oh yes, yes, certainly, that would be fine." They worked out the details. Melissa would meet him in the evening at Miss Wilson's cottage on campus. That would be convenient for her, as well as provide a more comfortable, safe and reassuring setting. She was really quite nervous about this, although also very excited. Miss Wilson would not be there herself. Melissa preferred that she would be, at least for the introduction. But, Miss Wilson felt that it might be a bit awkward. She would clearly be a third wheel. Miss Wilson though did help Melissa prepare for her big night. She even went shopping with her to pick out some nice clothes. Melissa was so grateful for that help. She felt like a girl again, like she was shopping with her mother for a prom dress, but this was perhaps even more significant. This would be for her first night with a man. She was considering purchasing a gorgeous evening gown, something that would really stretch her budget as a college student but might be money well spent. After all, it is not every night that you have your first night. Miss Wilson, though, advised against that. She noted that he is unlikely to be comparably dressed, and being better dressed than your partner can make him uncomfortable. In any case, they would not actually be going out on the town. And, finally, she suggested that she wear something in which she would feel comfortable, natural. She would be nervous enough as it was. She didn't need to add to her self-consciousness by going overboard in her apparel. She chose for Melissa a lovely spring dress. The cotton was also very comfortable and it was also quite pretty, with delicate little flowers sprinkled along the pink, flowing fabric. It was seemingly modest, as it buttoned up to the neck, exposing only her arms, but it clung well to her figure, offering to the eye little imagination of what was being hidden, being so clearly outlined, so displayed. Plus, it buttoned all the way down the front, which offered a tantalizing experience for the gentleman as the treasure within was slowly revealed. "Do you really think he will like it?" Melissa asked. She really wasn't so sure. She at least thought it would be nice to wear something with a plunging neckline. Miss Wilson, though, reassured her. "Oh, I know he will like it, trust me. And, besides, it is your innocence, your modesty, that you are offering him. Looking the part makes you all the more appealing." The undies, however, were a different story. Melissa insisted on purchasing more adult, sexy undies. She wanted to look sexy, as well as feel sexy, and a more modest pair of undies would frankly make her feel self-conscious, unsure of herself. Miss Wilson did not argue. Perhaps young lady's instincts should be trusted in this regard. And, besides, he looked forward to seeing her in them. Victor and Melissa both approached the designated evening with considerable excitement and apprehension. This was a fantasy coming true, for the both of them. Melissa arrived right on time. Actually, she arrived a good half hour early, but she stopped a couple of houses away. She didn't want to embarrass herself by arriving too early. So, she waited down the block, until it was five minutes before the hour, and then she walked briskly to the front door, her heart pounding expectantly. What would he look like? What would he be like? When he opened the door, she wasn't disappointed, at least not entirely. He had a moustache. She didn't really like moustaches. It did make him look older though, and she liked that, but she wondered if it would tickle when they kissed. Her father's moustache always tickled when she kissed him. But, after the initial impression, it was all really very nice. He was indeed good looking. In fact, his eyes reminded Melissa of Miss Wilson. He had the same blue shade and warm, affectionate sparkle. He was even quite similar in size to Miss Wilson, but it was his eyes that really reminded her of the professor, and that went far in helping her relax. Victor had been quite nervous about their first meeting. Would she recognize him? Would the moustache be enough? His hair was, of course, quite different, very short and a different color, and he purposely altered his voice. But, would it be enough? "How delightful to meet you, Melissa. I'm Victor Lumet." She thought it was a very nice name, and also again quite reminiscent of Miss Wilson, although she never spoke to Miss Wilson by her first name. "It's very nice to meet you as well, sir," she politely reached out to shake his hand. Victor smiled at her politeness. "Now, Melissa, doesn't it seem more appropriate to use my first name?" Melissa blushed. He was, of course, right, but it didn't quite feel right, as he was clearly her senior. "Alright," she hesitated, "Victor." Victor brought her into Victoria's house, took her hand, and led her to the living room, now lit by quite romantic candlelight. There was a bottle of wine and two glasses on the end table to the couch. "Would you like a glass of wine, dear?" Melissa certainly did, at least she thought she did, but she couldn't. "Oh no, sir, I mean, Victor, I'm not old enough to drink." "Of course, I know that, but I thought perhaps an exception could be made. You are, after all, in the presence of a supervising adult." She leaned into him. "Yes, I guess I am." Victor though didn't push it. "But, you're right, of course. Victoria told me that drinking on campus was prohibited, and we are essentially on campus." "I am eighteen, though, Victor. I can do, um, other things." "And, what might those things be?" Melissa felt like having a drink now. Just like Miss Wilson, Mr. Lumet was going to make her speak openly. She looked up at him and said, quite proudly and firmly, "I can play with your penis." He chuckled, "I imagine you can." "Do you want me to show you? I will, you know." He certainly did know. He was expecting a considerable amount of more foreplay, even conversation, getting to know each other, putting her at ease, but apparently she had decided that it was best to just jump in. "Well, Melissa, I would be most pleased." "Goodie," she exclaimed. "Here, you just stand here and I will take care of you." She was clearly very eager to show what she had learned and she took to Victor's slacks like a child opening a present. Victor was quite eager himself, having for some time now wanting to feel the touch of this attractive girl's fingers exploring his cock. Just the thought was making his dick swell in his slacks. By the time she had pulled his cock from his shorts he was already rather swollen. That was fine with him, as it provided a nice first impression. "My goodness, Mr. Lumet, I mean, Victor, he's really quite nice." In its semi-erect state it did have a nice appearance; limp but pronounced. "Pull out my testicles as well." "Yes sir," she gladly replied, and reached inside to carefully grasp his testicles. Miss Wilson had emphasized not to grab them like they were rubber balls. A man's testicles are really very tender and sensitive. She had wondered why, but Miss Wilson didn't know. She speculated that they were made to be sensitive so that the man would do just about anything to protect them. Genetically, they were perhaps the most important organ on his body. But, she was only just guessing. In any case, Melissa was indeed careful, cupping them in the palm of her hand and slowly drawing them out, being sure not to catch them on his zipper. When she was done, she smiled at her accomplishment and her prize. They were really rather big, bigger than she thought they would be. She lightly bounced them on the tip of her fingers and then gently squeezed them. She could see Mr. Lumet tense up, but he had no reason to be concerned. She knew what she was doing. "They feel much different than I thought they would." "How so?" "Well, they're really much softer than the ones I had." She then realized how odd that must have sounded. "Miss Wilson was showing me a pair she had gotten for me, you know, like what an artist might use." He knew, of course, that this wasn't really entirely true, but he could hardly begrudge her a few white lies. "Would you like to see if you can make it real hard?" "Oh yes, can I?" She so much wanted to show him what she could do. "Be my guest." "Goodie," she said, as she took to her task. She got down on her knees and carefully wrapped her right hand around the semi-soft shaft and slowly pulled back and forth on it, at the same time cupping and rolling his balls with the palm and fingers of her left hand. She was so glad that she had practiced with Miss Wilson, as she really felt quite good about what she could do. Mr. Lumet very quickly stiffened up to full strength. He probably would have stiffened even if she had just blown air on him, as he had been wanting this to happen for some time and, besides, there was something so erotic about having a girl so much younger than himself play with him like this. Melissa was ecstatic with her quick success. She grinned broadly as she saw his cock rapidly swell and rise until it was a striking rod ramming up straight and hard. "Oh my goodness, Mr. Lumet, you are really so big." He might not be any bigger than the toy she had been using, but the sight of a real live hard cock was so much more impressive. "Well, I think you had a lot to do with it." Melissa grinned at the compliment. She returned the favor. "It's so wonderful: so stiff and tall, and so shiny at the top. I didn't think it would be shiny like that, like a big fresh plum." She grasped it tightly in her hand and bent forward to get a closer look. "You can kiss it, if you like." He didn't have to offer it twice. Melissa quickly planted a firm, full kiss on the tip, enjoying the feel of its surprising softness against the softness of her own lips. She also drew in deeply the scent of his manhood through her nose. She liked it. It was a very musky, masculine scent. The feel of her lips on the tip of his cock was even more intense, of course, for Victor. "Melissa," he quietly gasped. Melissa pressed her case, opening her lips and absorbing the crown into her mouth, forgetting about the suggestion of Miss Wilson to first caress the bulb with her lips. Victor, however, didn't mind. He frankly doubted that he would be able to last too long, no matter what she did, as just the sight of her innocence on his cock would make him explode, and it didn't help that he then felt her tongue working on his bulb; the soft, wet, little tongue of Melissa, licking and lapping away like a hungry kitten at a dripping teat. Melissa smiled to herself as she discovered that a real cock did indeed taste better than her rubber one. She was relieved, and pleased. "Wait, wait," he gasped. She pulled back, his wet dick glistening in the candle light. "What, what? Am I doing something wrong?" "Oh no, no girl, you're just driving me crazy." Her expression of concern switched to a proud grin, her teeth showing. She said quite coquettishly, "Do you like the way I suck your penis, Mr. Lumet?" "'Victor,' Melissa, and I do, very, very much." "That's good, Victor, I'm glad." She then planted her lips back on the bulb and this time took the time to caress the wet, shiny crown with her lips, giving him little baby kisses as she worked her way around and around the bulb, while at the same time stroking his shaft with her fist and continuing to tickle his balls. Victor would like so much to explode onto her lips. It would feel so good and would be such a lovely sight. But, it would be much too soon. "Melissa, let me see you now." Melissa did not want to let go, but there was still much to do. She complied and got back up on her feet, Mr. Lumet helping her up, being the gentleman that he was. "That is a very pretty dress, Melissa," he said, as she stood before his erect cock in her new flowery spring dress.