The Panty Perils of Me 15

I am feeling out of control again. That is if I ever really had control.

The shame that I feel from my latest encounter with Arnold just won't seem to go away.

I decide to try and calm down by sitting in a chaise lounge in my back yard and taking in some sun. I quickly change out of my see through white bra and string bikini panty and put on a very skimpy bright red bikini bottom and a coordinating white and red striped sleeveless midriff baring top.

I don't think that I was lying in the chaise for any more than 10 minutes when I find myself slipping on a pair of bright red high heels (maybe I need to examine my extreme obsession with coordinating outfits, too) and openly walking down the sidewalk purposely heading to the professor's house. If nosey Kathy is looking out her window than she is getting quite an eyeful and headful as well. I am not exactly dressed for a visit with a male neighbor unless I enjoy rumors about my slutiness (or should I say 'lack of decorum?) to continue.

I am about half way to the professor's house when I first notice the sudden lack of sound in the neighborhood. The lawnmowers have stopped along with most of the other Saturday outdoor activities. My little red bikini parade down the sidewalk has attracted many of my neighbor's attention. Most of the men are sporting little smiles of satisfaction while the women all look upset. It is the first time that I am conscious of how little I am wearing and a flush of embarrassment takes over my body.

What has gotten into me, as now I don't even know how to behave in my own backyard?

The worst part about the stares that I am getting is the warm feeling that is beginning between my legs. I am getting aroused.

I hurry my walk to the professor's as I feel everyone's eyes on my barely covered butt.

Thankfully the professor is home and answers the door immediately.

One look in my eyes and he knows why I am there.

"Elizabeth," he says, "I assume that you are ashamed of something and desire my assistance." All I can do to respond is to nod my head as tears start to form in my eyes.

Almost unconsciously I walk over to his couch and lean over presenting my bright red covered bottom for his admonishment.

The professor walks over to me and places his hand on my bottom slowly stroking and kneading my nylon lycra covered cheeks. It feels so good that I almost purr out my reaction, "Mmmmmm."

With his other hand he starts to stroke my bare midriff reaching up under my stomach baring t-shirt until his fingers touch the bottom of my bare breasts. Another long, "Mmmmmmmmmm" escapes from my lips.

He continues to grab my cheeks one at a time pinching them until I am ecstatic with the sensual pain of it.

While pinching my cheeks his other hand finds a very erect and throbbing nipple poking against the fabric of my t-shirt and rolls it between his two fingers.

I can feel the moisture building between my legs as my entire body melds into his touch.

When I think that I can't stand anymore of his manual manipulation of me, his fingers leave my pulsating nipple and his hand slides down the front of my torso moving down, down, down to my other pulsating area.

While again grabbing my cheek with his other hand, I feel his fingers sliding underneath the elastic waistband of my bikini bottoms. I push my groin towards his exploring fingers moving my legs further apart welcoming his invasion into my most sensitive erogenous zone.

My lower lips are fully swollen and parted glistening with my sex as he finds my swollen kernel and begins to play with me.

My entire body straightens up giving him full access to my opening lips. I don't even realize that I have slipped both of my hands under my t-shirt pulling it up and over my now very erect nipples. I place my fingers on each hard little nub and stroke them in a similar manner to how the professor is stroking me. I can't help but to continue to purr as everything feels so extremely good.

The professor's technique is flawless and I am on the verge of orgasm when the first smack across my tightly squeezed bottom sets off my pain and pleasure alarms.

How could he possibly know that the combination of being firmly spanked across my almost bare bottom combined with being masturbated by his exploring fingers would ignite the fires of my raw sexual passion?

I don't scream out in pain but let out a loud guttural sound of satisfaction and supplication.

As I feel the professor's finger slip inside my well-lubricated aperture another resounding smack stings my bottom and I almost faint from the exquisite sensations coursing through my body.

The professor plays me like a well-tuned instrument mixing the sounds of pain and pleasure until I can barely stand. Then the first glorious wave of release convulses my very soul with my legs coming together gripping the professor's hand and trapping his fingers inside of me as I orgasm over and over again. I am like an animal with saliva dripping from my mouth and unintelligible sounds of raw sexual passion emitting from my vocal chords.

I find myself sliding to the floor as the warm, wet liquid from the professor's immersed fingers winds its course across my stomach and up to my bare nipples.

As I come back to reality I am sitting on the floor of the professor's living room with him holding my t-shirt well over my breasts having kept my head from hitting the wood floor as I more or less fainted from ecstasy.

The professor helps me back to my feet and places me in one of his overstuffed chairs. My t-shirt has somehow settled on the top of my still very erect nipples making it look like they are playing peek-a-boo. I am given a glass of ice-cold water and languish in the complete sense of serenity that now invades my body.

The reality of this moment hits me like a hard slap in the face. The professor is the type of man that I have been looking for. I love my husband and children and wouldn't ever think of leaving them, but there is this other side of me that needs to be let loose now and then, and the professor understands this.

As we sit I spill everything that has happened to me over the past few months. I tell him about Arnold, Jackie, Benjamin, Mr. Whitmore and Mr. Dempsey, Dr.Thrasher, Reg, and Dr. Spoocher. It is like the floodgates have opened and I can't stop telling him everything.

I tell him how exciting every experience was as well as how much I hated myself for it.

The professor just sits and listens without showing any shock or surprise, nor does he express any judgment concerning my acts or feelings.

As my last confessions spew from my conscious I feel a sense of relief as I have someone who I can talk to that won't use me as an experiment or try to change me. I have someone that accepts me for who I am as well as who I try to be.

As the time as hurried by the professor takes my hand pulling me up from the chair and leads me to his front door.

"Elizabeth, I want you to go home as I am sure that your husband is home by now and we don't need our neighbors talking anymore about you than they probably are already. Call me anytime that you need to talk or for anything else and we can get together without you walking half naked to my porch in the middle of the afternoon. Also, from time to time I will ask you to do a favor for me."

It was like heaven to my ears.