MID TERM EXAMINATION----
I lost my virginity when I was 19. I was a sophomore in college. He was a professor at the university.
I was captivated by Dr. Lewis from the first day I walked into his sociology class. He was a passionate, dynamic teacher, and he was so handsome! He must have been in his 40s or 50s, I guessed. He had black hair just beginning to show flecks of gray. He was tall and lean. He was given to wearing three piece suits, and he often took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, revealing muscular, hairy forearms.
I sat at the front of the class. Sometimes he would look at me during a lecture, and his icy blue eyes would make my blood alternately freeze and boil. He was beautiful and brilliant, and I wanted him. But one day in class he spoke of his wife, and I became resigned to the fact that I would probably never be able to do anything but fantasize about him.
I fantasized so much that by midterms I was failing his course. One day he asked me to remain after class. I could tell by the way he spoke that he was going to be stern with me about my poor showing in his class so far — me, an A student in high school and even in my other college courses! I was so nervous. What excuse could I give him for my poor grades? I could hardly tell him that I wanted him to fuck me so badly, I couldn't think straight.
After everyone had left he told me, in a kinder voice than I had expected, that he was concerned about my performance in his class. I mumbled some stupid excuse. He offered to give me some pointers and asked if I could spare a few minutes. My next class wasn't for two hours, so I said, "Sure."
He crossed the room and locked the door. "So we won't be disturbed," he said quietly. Just the sound of his deep, commanding voice made my nipples hard.
"Let's go to that back table in the corner," he said, getting a pad and pen from his desk. I picked up my textbook and followed him. I couldn't speak. I just tagged along and wondered how long this would take.
We sat at the table for about 15 minutes, discussing the day's lecture — or, more accurately, he discussed it, and I nodded dumbly. The nearness of him and the scent of his cologne were overpowering. I wasn't listening, and he could sense it. Every time he reached over to point out something in my textbook, his hot, furry forearm brushed against mine and sent a bolt of lust through me, straight from my arm to my balls.
I was so intoxicated by him that I was only dimly aware that he was no longer speaking but just sitting and staring at me. There was a furrow between his heavy black eyebrows and a question in his eyes, as if he couldn't decide what to make of me. When I looked directly at him, he quickly glanced away. He was breathing heavily. The only noises in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the ragged sounds of our breathing.
Then I glanced down at his lap and saw the bulge in his crotch. His thick penis, cradled in a nest of cotton folds, was straining against the fabric of his trimly cut khaki pants. I could see the outline perfectly — the shaft and the bulbous head were tightly constrained.
I felt as if fire had consumed me, and suddenly I had to touch him, and I felt that he wanted me to; that he was giving me his silent consent.
So I touched him, and I looked at his face as I did so. He still would not look into my eyes, but relief and desire flooded his face. He seemed to have fallen into a spellbound, dreamlike state, but I felt his cock throbbing against my hand as I stroked it through the fabric of his trousers.
Suddenly I wanted to touch all of him, to feel every inch of his hot body under my fingertips. I touched his face, lightly, on the cheekbone. I touched his ears. I touched his mouth, and he tasted my fingers and sighed with what sounded like pleasure. Then I touched his shoulders and ran my fingers up and down over the hairs on his arms. I touched his chest and could feel the thick padding of muscle through the thin fabric of his dressy shirt, then rested my hands on his thighs before feeling his crotch again and giving his balls a squeeze.
"I don't know what to do," he whispered to me. "I'm not supposed to be doing this." His voice was as steady as ever, but his hands were trembling.
"Take off your clothes so I can see your body," he said in the sexiest dominant way that I have ever heard, even to this day!
I stood before him and slowly took off all my clothes, even my socks. When I was naked my dick stood out in front of me, fully erect, and he reached out to touch it. As he wrapped his hand around my cock, I clasped my own hand around his cock.
Then I loosened his tie and proceeded to remove his vest, his shirt, his shoes and socks, and his trousers. He let me do it all without a word. And when I knelt before him and took his cock into my mouth, he held my head in his hands as if we had done this before.
His cock was not overly long but thick and warm and pulsating in my mouth. I closed my eyes and inhaled the heavy, sweet musk of him. Then he withdrew his dick from my mouth and had me sit on the edge of the table while he got down on his knees and started to suck my cock. It didn't take him long to discover what I liked — long, lascivious lip strokes alternating with some short, sharp tongue jabs. I was growing hotter by the second. I went wild. I pulled on his hair and stroked his moving, sucking jawline and stuck a finger up his nose and another in his ear, just to feel what they were like, and wrapped my legs around his back and stroked his ass cheeks with the soles of my feet. I noticed I was sitting on my open textbook.
In a little while he let my dick pop out of his mouth and hoarsely rasped, "I want to be inside you."
He picked me up and carried me across the room to his chair, the big chair behind the professor's desk, and he sat down in his chair, stroking his cock. I sat on his lap and kissed him, licked him, petted him, played with him. I was light headed with sexual arousal, and I wanted to giggle like a little boy, out of sheer well being, whenever I wasn't kissing him. The implications of this teacher-student picture were not lost on me, but I was too horny to care.
He licked his right forefinger and slid it into my tight hole. I gasped as he pushed past my ring and then felt a flood of warmth, of pleasure, of heat that I had never felt before. He leaned forward and kissed my neck, wiggled his finger and hit my prostate. WOW! I had a "white hot light behind my eyes" moment.
"Please do that again," I said.
"Here's something better." As he said that, he grabbed his slick and dripping cock.
I straddled his legs, which were taut and furry like his arms. Facing away from him, I lowered myself onto his spit and precum-soaked cock and felt the thickness of him stretch my asshole. He placed his hands firmly on my ass and held me down on him, then slowly probed and swirled and wiggled his cock inside me.
Then I slowly began to hump his dick, moving up and down on his shaft, undulating my hips, clenching and unclenching my asshole. He moaned and bit the spot between my shoulder blades, and I almost blacked out from the intensity of unadulterated pleasure. I rode his cock for what must have been somewhere between a moment and an eternity and surfed waves of desire that threatened to drown me.
My pace quickened. I impaled myself on his cock — hard — and our moans echoed loudly through the empty classroom. As we neared the end, his hands were all over my body at once, and I can remember his thick fingers, the tender roughness of them, the smooth, dry pads of his palms sliding over my ass, my back, my thighs, my stomach and chest, and finally stroking my bobbing, engorged cock.
I shot burning jets of my thick juice into his hands, still riding him, and my head fell back in ecstasy onto his shoulder. I could feel his warm, quick breaths on the back of my neck. Suddenly he clutched me in his strong arms and let out a roar as he poured his hot seed into me. I could feel his cock pulsing in my tight ass, shooting a hot stream of his juice deep into me.
He kissed my neck. He licked the sweat from my back between my shoulders. He embraced me as no one had before, as if he couldnt bear to let go for fear of feeling naked, alone and vulnerable. And then he told me, "I wanted to do this for a long time now. You made my dream come true."
HIS dream?
I'm 26 now, and I've never told anyone this story before. I'm telling it now because I want you to know that dreams do come true.
So below is a link to see Bobby Williams and Corbin Michaels getting their Mile High Club Membership while they are TAKING FLIGHT!
.jpg)