Professor's Intensity

I don't know how to describe the feelings that he evokes in me. I can't even
hear the words coming out of his mouth because all my attention is focused on
his tongue, barely visible as he speaks. I wonder what it would be like for it
to touch mine, to tease me erotically. I can almost feel the heat, the wetness,
the strength. My body trembles so much I can't sit still in the confining
chair; my heart is beating so rapidly that I can hardly breathe. My muscles are
tense, and I can feel the growing wetness at the apex of my legs. I speak, to
draw his attention. As he answers, he stares straight into my eyes, not looking
away for so long that I feel as if he may know what I am thinking. How I can't
stop wondering how large that bulge in his pants really is. I lower my eyes and
catch my breath just in time to prevent myself from making a sound. 

His name is Geoffrey, and the word rolls continuously through my mind, in a
soft whisper. I imagine myself calling out his name in passion, and again I
must shake my head back into reality. I try to pay attention to what he is
saying, but instead my mind attempts to control his movements, his thoughts,
his words. I am only 6 feet away from him, an almost uncomfortable distance,
since he knows that I am there, and I can not hide. His eyes continue to return
to mine, over and over again, for long moments. I wonder if the other students
are as aware of it as I am. In my mind I am thinking, "I want you so badly. I
want your tongue to be moving against my clitoris, your fingers to be softly
massaging my nipples. I want to kiss you, and dig my fingers into your back, so
that this incredibly intense feeling will dissipate." I see him stop, seeming
to ponder a question. He glances at me, and then downwards, and he moves his
tongue over his lips, back and forth. He shifts in his position perched atop
the large desk, and finally looks up again. His answer is unsure.

I feel like I am going to explode, or die, or cry out, or all three if I do not
get release soon. His dark hair looks so soft and beautiful, and I can't help
but want to feel his closely trimmed moustache and beard tickling my pussy.
That was never my thing before. His green eyes pierce me like a dagger, right
in my heart. It is beyond sexual attraction; it is a necessity that I possess
him, that I take him, and that he takes me. I can't believe myself, I can't
believe that I want him so badly. That I must have him. 

Thankfully he ends class ten minutes early, and I practically run out of the
classroom. My whole body aches from this torture. I go home to my cold, empty
house, hoping to be able to calm down a little, but I know that masturbation
will not help. I touch myself, and find that I have never been this wet in my
life. What can solve this problem? I am too jittery to sleep, I am not hungry,
yet I have no energy. I feel a panic inside me, and a sensation of
hyperventilating. My God, what the hell is going on?

I start up the stairs just as the doorbell rings. Great, this is all I need, a
visitor. I open the door, and Geoffrey is standing there, looking uncertain. "I
don't know what I am doing," he croaks. His muscular, broad shoulders tremble,
almost as if he is scared. But I am not scared. I am not uncertain. I have no
control over my body, over the chemicals and hormones inside me demanding that
I possess this man. I reach out and caress his face, running my soft fingertips
over his lips, and he reaches up to take my hand. I think he will push me away,
but instead he draws me toward him. Our bodies are so close, almost touching,
and I can feel the warmth emanating from his chest. He is breathing heavily and
unevenly, the nervousness and apprehension very clear to me. 

I step backwards, and pull him into the house behind me. We walk slowly up the
stairs into my bedroom. The darkness envelops us, despite the time of day, as
my shades were still down and my curtains still drawn. He stands still as I
move behind him, my hands rubbing against his chest. He is much taller than I
am, and my face is even only with the lowest part of his shoulder blades.
Having gone in a full circle, I look up into the eyes that had spent all
afternoon looking into my soul. "Kiss me," I say. And his lips crush down upon
my own, and I feel his wonderful tongue sweeping through my mouth. His arms are
around me, and for the first time in ages I feel normal. He is what I have been
missing. Yet instead of a release I feel only more intensity, more desire. I
put my arms around his neck, and he pulls me off the ground, holding me around
my round butt, and our kiss deepens. He is so good at this, tender and strong
at the same time. 

"Geoffrey," I moan, wanting more, and he lays me down on my bed. His hard body
falls on my mine, and his utterly throbbing penis is pressed against my very,
very wet pussy. I feel his lips and tongue against my neck, his fingers
kneading my stomach. He reaches down and pulls my shirt over my head in one
swift motion, and deftly removes my bra. My quite large breasts spread over my
chest, and he gathers them into his palms. I close my eyes, and I can feel his
tongue touching my nipple, licking in a circular motion, sucking harder and
harder until I cry out. He kisses me again, and I pull his sweater off
urgently, so that I can press my breasts against his strong chest covered in
dark curly hair. It tickles erotically, and I hold him closer. 

His hand cups my mound through my jeans, and I lift myself off the bed to meet
him. He quickly unzips me and pulls my pants off. His large fingers inch up
underneath my underwear, stroking my gushing pussy lips. I beg for him to touch
me, to be inside me. But he teases, and I whimper until he gives in. He moves
up beside me and kisses me roughly just as two of his fingers slam inside me. I
scream out so loudly that he is afraid that he has hurt me, but he soon
realizes that I am simply overcome with feeling. He moves faster and deeper,
his mouth sucking like mad on my nipples, until I cum all over his hand. I lay
back to enjoy the sensation, but I know that I am not yet satisfied. 

I want to touch him. I want to have his whole being inside me. His dress pants
come off easily, and his boxer briefs do nothing to hide his erection. I caress
his balls as my mouth consumes his penis. I move up and down, my lips enclosed
on the hardness, my tongue moving wetly over the texture of bulging veins and
soft skin. He shoves my head down farther, forcing himself deep into my throat.
I suck him gently but with such enormous pressure that he moans and shudders,
pushing his hips into my face at the same time as he makes me stop, so that he
doesn't cum.

He swiftly turns me over, and covers my body with his own. "God, baby, I can't
wait any longer," he says apologetically. "Neither can I," I assure him, as I
reach between his legs and press his dick against my pussy lips. Immediately,
he rams himself inside me while I thrust my hips up to meet him. The rhythm is
fast and impatient, our breathing and moans out of control. He beats into me
faster and faster, harder and harder, but it is not enough. "Harder, Geoffrey,
please, I need you so badly." My fingernails dig into his back as I cling to
him, his lips pressed tightly to mine. After twenty minutes of such violent,
athletic fucking, he seems to tire, but I am no where near ready to climax.

I push him over onto his back, and I mount him, jamming my overflowing pussy
onto the hardness sticking straight out of his body. As I move back and forth,
he grabs my breasts and squeezes, making me moan louder and louder. He then
moves his hands around to cup my ass, and spreads my cheeks ever so slightly as
I continue to fuck him. My pussy juice has spread so much that he has no
trouble inserting his finger into my ass. The intense pleasure I feel causes me
to crash my pelvis into his, so that my clit impacts with muscle and bone. I
instantly see blackness covering my vision, my body trembles, my muscles go
limp, my tongue becomes completely numb, and a hot, piercing shock travels in a
split second through my stomach. My head flies backward, and Geoffrey pulls me
to him and nips at my neck. I can tell that he has climaxed as well, but he
seems not to have cum inside me. I whimper, and fall into him. He holds me
until I able to keep myself up, slowly caressing my back. He seems sedated,
almost unaware of his movements.

It takes many minutes for us to come down from heaven, lying in each other's
arms, drenched in sweat. I ask him how he climaxed without cumming. He smiles
and says that his favorite professor in college had been a master of tantric
sex, and she had taught him how to do that. The glazed look in his eyes tells
me that this was a much better way, as he was still coming down from the high.
The rest of that day, and all night long he shows me his secrets, so that by
tomorrow I will have found my release and been satisfied of my need for him.
For a little while at least.

* by Shakespeare's Mistress