History Lessons Ch. 02

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Office hours with history professor continue.
2.8k words
4.64
56k
14

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/16/2022
Created 02/27/2004
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As is self-evident, this is the second chapter of a story, and I would suggest that you read chapter one first. In response to some questions I've gotten, yes, I'm a college student (just graduated) and this story is partly fiction, and partly not. Hope you enjoy.

***

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Between classes, studying with friends, and well, just about all the time, my thoughts would flash back to what happened Monday afternoon in Professor Jameson's office. I wasn't sure what to think of it... it wasn't typical for me to be aggressive like that, and I had certainly never just "fucked and parted" in such a seemingly casual way--let alone done it with a professor. I couldn't deny that I had wanted him for a while now... and it was consensual, after all. But at the same time, I was terrified of the potential consequences. What if someone found out? Would he be fired? And what must he think of me now?

As if confirming my fears, Professor Jameson never even looked in my direction during Wednesday's class. Unsure of what was going through his mind, I certainly wasn't going to take the initiative in approaching him. As the weeks stretched on, I was becoming more and more miserable--my other classes were tedious, my thesis writing wasn't going well, and to top it all off, it was turning out to be the worst winter yet since I'd moved to the east coast. I had stopped going to Professor Jameson's office hours, and frankly, I missed the intellectual stimulation. His lectures were still great, but I sat in the back of the class and avoided asking questions or making eye contact with my history professor.

Two days of rain had turned the most recent snowfall into dirty gray slush, transforming the cobblestone walkways of campus into barely navigable rivers. As if our ever-increasing stacks of readings and papers weren't bad enough, nature had to have a go at us during midterms time. A misstep on the way to class landed me ankle-deep in an icy puddle, and I cursed as the freezing water seeped into my shoes.

Damp socks weren't my only concern though, as I walked into Professor Jameson's class. The paper proposals we had turned in the previous week were being distributed back, with comments. I had taken great care in choosing my topic--gender and sexuality in early 20th century urban China--because the subject interested me, and for more pragmatic reasons, because I needed a good recommendation from the professor to get into graduate school. "Though you might have blown it already, what with that fucking on his office desk," I grimly reminded myself.

Professor Jameson was just inside the door, handing our proposals back to us as we walked into the classroom. I kept my eyes down as I took the piece of paper from him, and didn't look at it until I was safe in my seat at the back of the class. There was only one sentence written at the bottom of the paper--"Please see me in my office after class."

My face flushed hot with the prospect of having to face him. Was he angry that he had allowed me to seduce him? He seduced me just as much, I thought. But he probably regretted it... and probably wanted to make sure I wasn't babbling about our sexual encounter with other students. But he did write "please"--so maybe he just had some comments about my paper topic that would take too long to write down. Maybe. I clung on to that thought as the minutes of class ticked away.

It really wasn't that I regretted the incident, I admitted to myself as class ended and I trailed behind the other students as we filed out of the room. After all, I did "accidentally" let him see up my skirt when I was sitting at the front of class... and when I got down on my knees in his office and sucked his cock, and then he took me over his desk--well, it was damn hot sex, and I didn't regret one minute of it. No, it wasn't regret that made me avoid him...it was the fear that I had ruined a perfectly good academic relationship.

While I mulled these thoughts over, my feet had carried me automatically to his office door. As was customary during office hours, the door was cracked open, so I knocked and, hearing a "Come in!" entered, closing the door behind me. Professor Jameson was making a note in a book, and without looking up, waved me into the seat. I sat down quietly, and pulled my notebook out. Marking his place, Professor Jameson closed his book and looked up.

"Well," he said without preamble, "I thought you'd stopped caring about my class, until I saw from your paper proposal that you are still working hard."

When I didn't speak, Professor Jameson continued. "From your lack of participation in class the last few weeks, I thought something was wrong. But I figured if you had any concerns, you'd see me in office hours. Except you stopped coming to those a few weeks ago. And--why is that? Been busy with other... classes?"

The raised eyebrow and tone of voice that accompanied his last sentence clearly insinuated something, and that goaded me into speech.

"Yes, professor, I've been busy with classes," I delivered the words rather forcefully. "I'm always busy with classes--I'm a student. Perhaps I don't understand your question. Maybe you'd like to be more explicit?" I knew I was verging on insolence, but his suggestion that I had been sleeping with other professors... well, he had no right to say such a thing.

Professor Jameson crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, fixing me with his intense gaze. Even now, when I was experiencing a mixture of anger and uncertainty, I couldn't help but admire how intelligent and attractive he looked, with his chiseled features and hazel eyes framed by dark-rimmed glasses.

Then he said, "I was merely wondering why you might be having--issues--with my class. Oh, and you left something last time you were in office hours." With that, he pulled open one of his desk drawers, fished out a red thong, and tossed it across the desk so that it landed on my open notebook.

I'd been wondering what he did with it. I had worn a skirt that day, so many weeks ago, and in my daze, only realized after I had left the building that I'd left my thong lying next to his desk. I had felt far too foolish to go back to retrieve it. "Well, if there's one way to bring up a subject, this is it," I thought, staring down at the memento of my tryst with the professor.

The situation possessed enough of the surreal that I couldn't help smiling. "Yes, Professor Jameson, I do have some issues. Not that you need reminding, but I'm your student. And hopefully you don't need reminding, but you fucked me, right over this desk. And now, you expect me to continue coming to your office to talk about the May Fourth Movement, or early Communist propaganda, or whatever? Maybe you do this sort of thing a lot. But I don't know what to do."

At this, Professor Jameson smirked. "What to do? Well that's not too difficult to figure out..."

He stood up and walked over to my side of the desk, and leaned over my shoulder, as if looking at my notes. He spoke in a whisper, but deliberately so that I wouldn't miss a single word. "You want me. And I want you. Not everything is so complicated. Now... do you want this? Or shall we go back to discussing gender and sexuality in the purely academic sense?"

While speaking, Professor Jameson had unzipped his slacks, and pulled his hard cock out of his boxers. It stood there at full attention, the tip glistening with precum, for me to admire.

Despite the impropriety of the situation and my momentary flare of indignation at his presumptuousness, I was unable to fight my own desire. And so in answer to his whispered taunt, I half-turned my chair to face him, and took his waiting cock into my mouth.

Almost instantly, my head was swimming, and I couldn't think of anything except for how hot and throbbing his cock felt in my mouth, and how good he tasted as I alternately swirled my tongue teasingly around the shaft and sucked his cock deep into my throat.

I heard Professor Jameson give a soft moan as he wove his fingers through my long black hair, using this as leverage so that he could fuck my mouth even harder and faster. "Yes..." he groaned through gritted teeth, "suck my cock, you little whore... suck me off."

I didn't need the encouragement. It's one thing to discuss the evolution of gender norms and sexual taboos on a theoretical level with your professor. It's quite another having your mouth fucked by said professor, and half-noticing, in a state of dizzying pleasure, that your lipstick is rubbing off onto his slacks. I sucked and licked his cock for all I was worth, and Professor Jameson's legs tensed up, his hand on my head gripped almost painfully as he thrust his cock forcefully into my mouth, almost making me gag on its thickness. With a warning grunt, he spewed a thick load of cum into my mouth, and I swallowed eagerly, not wanting to spill a drop. This wasn't an easy task, as his cum came in hot spurts again and again, and I smiled inwardly, thinking that perhaps he didn't have sex all that often after all, or else he wouldn't build up such a nice big load.

After I sucked him dry, I gently licked his cock clean, and then leaned back in the chair, feeling lightheaded, as I watched my professor put his softening cock back into his boxers and zip up his slacks.

Professor Jameson returned to his seat, giving me one of his inscrutable half-smiles, so that I wasn't sure if he was merely pleased with the oral sex, or in on some little secret that I didn't know.

He straightened his glasses and said to me, "Now about your paper proposal, there are some internal linkages within your thesis that need clarifying. I think it will be helpful if we talk through some of these ideas together."

I was taken aback by this quick change of gear. "Um...talk through some ideas?" I repeated faintly.

"Oh yes," Professor Jameson definitely gave me a smirk this time. "Unless you're still distracted by other issues? On second thought... let's do it this way. I want you to play with yourself. Right here, right now--while I watch."

"What?" I said, not believing what I was hearing. "Or you won't discuss my paper proposal with me?"

My confusion was greeted with another devilish smile. "No, it's nothing like that," Professor Jameson said, in a would-be reassuring tone. "But," and here his tone turned wickedly playful, "we can't have you distracted. It wouldn't make for a very productive discussion, now would it?"

Power has always been very sexy to me... and I don't mean wielding power, I mean being... well, dominated. To hear such lewd commands on the lips of a professor I respected and admired... even if my pussy hadn't been wet with excitement from just having sucked him off, it would certainly be wet now.

"I'm waiting," my professor growled. Then, "Mmmm, nice" he murmured appreciatively, as I stood up and in one swift motion unbuttoned my jeans, and wriggled out of jeans and panties. And then another command was issued--"Sit down. Spread your legs wide, dangle them over the arms of the chair."

I hesitated, feeling exposed and self-conscious.

Professor Jameson sensed my hesitation. "Do you think for a moment that any student can get into the PhD program here without my support? Do what I say NOW," he ordered, though the subversive, mischievous glint in his eye did not escape me.

I obeyed, imagining what I must look like to my professor, with my notebook sitting open on the desk, and the moist, pink lips of my pussy spread open for him to see. "Fuck yourself with your fingers," he said.

Abandoning myself to his power and our shared lust, I licked my finger to moisten it, and then slipped it slowly inside my pussy, while rubbing on my clit with my other hand. As I warmed up, I slipped another finger inside, and fucked myself more vigorously as my professor smirked and nodded his approval. I could hear the wetness of my pussy as I continued to finger-fuck myself, building up to a climax, when Professor Jameson interrupted--"That's enough. Come here."

I whimpered, feeling the heat of my pussy as I was so close to cumming, and desperate for that release. But the power game meant that I should be obedient... at least this time around. So I walked over to his side of the desk.

"Lie down over my lap," ordered the professor. I obeyed, and was surprised to feel the hardness of his cock pressing into my crotch as I stretched out across his lap.

"You hesitated when I asked you to show off your pussy for me," Professor Jameson said almost conversationally, as if he were used to talking with students dangled over his lap. "Do I need to remind you who is in charge here?"

The smacks on my bare ass came swiftly, and with a force that caught me by surprise. But with his free hand covering my mouth, Professor Jameson guaranteed that my whimpered protest could not be heard by his colleagues in the adjacent offices. I counted maybe ten smacks, and felt the heat of the welts he left on my ass. I never imagined that being spanked by hand could smart this much. Then it occurred to me that the heat and wetness in my crotch was not just from me, but also from his arousal, and I thought that I could feel his cock throbbing, waiting to be released from the confines of his slacks.

Sure enough, when he lifted me off of his lap, I could see the lust burning in his eyes. "This time, I'm hoping you won't be so slow to obey me," he said softly but sternly. "Now... I want you to fuck me."

The rain and wind that pounded at his office window seemed to match the intensity of our desire. I didn't hesitate, but unzipped his slacks and fished inside his boxers to reveal his hard cock. I was secretly pleased at his quick recovery time, given that I'd just sucked him off ten minutes ago. And then, climbing up on his chair so that I straddled him, legs on either side of his, I lowered my wet snatch down onto my professor's cock.

I relished every inch of his hardness, and lifted myself up and down on his cock, building up speed as I adjusted to his size. My pussy was so wet that I knew I must be staining his pants, but Professor Jameson didn't seem to care. His eyes were fixed on my face, and as my body thrashed wish pleasure against his, he pressed his lips to mine, sending jolts of electricity through me. Then, he unbuttoned my shirt and commented, "Mmm, no bra again," before taking a nipple in his mouth, licking and biting softly at it. With this added stimulation, and the pleasure of my professor's cock filling me so completely, I moaned softly as I climaxed, fucking him hard and fast, my clenching pussy milking his cock.

As I moaned, Professor Jameson released my nipple from his mouth, and growled into my ear, "Yesss, yessss, you've got a nice tight pussy... fuck me, that's it, ride me..." and for the second time that day, my professor rewarded my efforts with a load of creamy cum.

I lay in his arms as our breathing returned to normal, scarcely aware of the pool of cum that was now trickling out of my pussy and onto the chair, leaving a dark stain in the fabric. Professor Jameson whispered, "Good girl, good girl..." in my ear while softly stroking my hair.

And then he abruptly pushed me off of his lap. "We've been in here too long," my professor said, putting his clothes back in order. "Come over to my place tonight--at seven?" I nodded mutely in response. "And we'll pick up where we left off," he said as he scribbled his address down on a page in my notebook, and then closed it and put it back into my bookbag.

He then gave me scarcely five minutes to dress and collect myself, before he opened the door and exited ahead of me, without even a glance back to acknowledge what had just transpired in his office.

When I left the building to go to my next class, the winter rain was still coming down hard. But I didn't feel it at all, as I smiled, thinking about the meaning of "picking up where we left off," and anticipating the evening that lay ahead.

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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 11 years ago

Great writer. Should not stop now.

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago

Wow, I really love these stories. You have a nice amount of detail and the power play is hot.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 16 years ago
yum

damn. I wanna fuck my professor like that! That was hotter than the fantasies I have during his class.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 20 years ago
Love It!

This story is so hot! Professor Jameson is every nasty girl's fantasy. Can't wait to read what comes next.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 20 years ago
oh to be your professor

i certainly would not have wait that long to get you back in my office...

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