My Favorite Student

My Favorite Student
By: Miltone (miltone915@yahoo.com)

My Favorite Student

By Miltone (c)2005

"All right now class, take one of these and pass the rest back along to the others," I announced while distributing the final exam booklets to my Contemporary Lit class, the last exam for my last class of the semester. "If you run out of room, feel free to attach as many pages as you feel you need." I was certain that only one or two of my students caught the sarcasm of my last comment.

As I moved along the row of desks, I took note of the students, trying to etch the names and faces into my memory. A few might appear next fall in another class. Most would never be seen again. I always got a kick out of the wide-ranging appearance of my students. Some were slovenly and disheveled, a few were dressed well, a handful of students were looking extremely bored, and a couple looked absolutely uptight.

Then there was Lizzie. Lizzie Featherstone. She was maybe five-six with long pale blonde hair and the sweetest, darkest blue eyes I had ever seen. She had a cute face bordering on pretty with a button nose and two high rounded cheekbones. In the winter months she had worn mostly slacks and sweaters that seemed to conceal her figure. But when springtime came around and the weather warmed up, she began to wear skirts and shorts that were always wonderfully coordinated with her tops and revealed more of her long legs, her nicely rounded ass, her flat belly, and her pert and perfect breasts.

Lizzie had started the semester sitting in the rear of the class. By the time of mid term exams she had worked her way up to the front row off to the side in front of the lectern that I used during most class sessions. Of course I'd like to think that it was the fascinating course plan that I executed with wit and charm and insight that made her want to move to the front of the class. I even joked with myself that it was the depth of my animal-like sexual magnetism. But maybe there was something else at play.

When I needed the help of a couple of volunteers for a special class project, Lizzie was the first to raise her hand. She was always very helpful and cooperative and ended up doing more of the work than the other students. But when she began to linger after class asking questions, usually very pointed and well-thought questions, I began to wonder whether something else was going on. I presumed innocence. It was probably just an interest in reading and literature and nothing more. But the fact that she was so easy on the eyes made our academic relationship quite pleasurable. In a few moments of weakness, I allowed myself to imagine that she might see me as more than just her college professor, which only eventually ended up making me feel like a fool.

Then there was her schoolgirl getup, a very short plaid, pleated skirt that she wore usually with a snug white blouse, tall white knee socks, and a pair of black patent leather shoes. I often wondered after seeing her wear that outfit to class that maybe she or her boyfriend had a schoolgirl fetish. Lucky guy that one, I would think to myself. Of course on days when she wore that outfit I always had a difficult time sticking to the class syllabus, especially when she would take her time crossing and uncrossing her legs and a little glimmer of white panties might flash beneath the pleated hem of her skirt. At times like that I became convinced of my guilt as an obsessed lecher and was destined to burn down below in eternity.

There were other memorable outfits, a divine little sundress in a lovely shade of yellow that was just sheer enough to reveal what she was wearing underneath, or not wearing as the case might be. There was one particular pair of blue jeans that did the most wonderful things to her ass and would exert the most potentially embarrassing effect on me, an effect that would force me to remain behind the lectern until my pulse and certain obvious body parts returned to normal.

So now as I handed the last stack of exam papers to Lizzie, dressed delightfully in a strappy little light blue top and short hipster skirt, she looked up at me with her innocent blue eyes and gave me a warm smile. It was a new outfit that complimented her eyes perfectly, and showed off her gorgeous legs and sumptuous full, firm breasts flawlessly.

"All right then, any questions?" I asked, trying to banish any lurid thoughts about Lizzie from my mind and returning to my desk. After scanning the sea of blank faces, I announced, "You may begin."

Sitting in spare student chair off to the side of the room, I took up the draft of a Composition Handbook on which I had been working for the past several months. The University encouraged-no, demanded-that we continue to publish in order to retain tenure, so I was putting together a handbook based on my experience in teaching English for several years. Editing and proofreading my manuscript would be the perfect way to kill some time while monitoring my students during the final exam.

After opening up their folders, I heard a collective deep sigh rise from the students that bordered on a groan. That was expected, but soon the sound of pencils and pens scratching away began and I turned my attention to my manuscript. Occasionally I'd look up and survey the classroom and after about fifteen or twenty minutes I got up to took a walking tour of the classroom just to keep everyone honest. They were good kids for the most part so I had little to worry about. After retaking my seat, I settled back into my proofreading job.

Upon finishing a chapter, I looked up and saw Lizzie gazing off into space for a moment, her lovely dark blue eyes lost in thought. Then she looked down to her paper and began writing again. I almost went back to proofreading the manuscript but saw her raise her left hand from the desk to rub her neck below the ear. Then as she lowered her hand back to the desk it brushed over her left breast and she rubbed herself just below the lower curve. An itch perhaps? Then I looked back to my Handbook, wanting to give her some privacy.

But a moment later when I glanced over at her again, she had slipped a pair of fingers down between her breasts and underneath her top. I could see her fingers trace over her breast and slip down to rub underneath her breast again. I smiled at the bold innocence of her action, completely unmindful of my surreptitious gaze. Although she had looked from side to side to see that none of her fellow students were looking, she never glanced my way. Perhaps I had appeared too absorbed in my reading when she had last looked in my direction. But here she was rubbing an itch and pulling down her shirt, an act which nearly bared her perfect, round breasts, an act that I found completely and disarmingly arousing.

Apparently with her itch satisfied, Lizzie withdrew her hand and rested it on the desk. As she did so I couldn't help but notice the taut erection of her nipples through the thin blue fabric of her top as it snapped back into place. As she continued to write into her test booklet, my own attention quickly shifted back to my Handbook.

Minutes later I found myself looking over again and noticed how her left hand and fallen into her lap. I might not have looked further except that her fingers were flirting with her thigh, lightly caressing the soft tender tanned skin in the shadow between her legs. I would have thought nothing more of it, except that her hand was moving further up her thigh pulling the hem of her short skirt up along with it until the shadow of her pink lace panties was visible.

Her long slim finger slipped to the side of her thigh and as it began to rub up and down, she rocked her hips slightly. I smiled at the thought of her itching herself down there, thinking that perhaps she had used the wrong detergent on her last load of delicate laundry. But when her index finger joined in and began to rub over the lacy pink panel of her panties, I began to think that it was more than an itch she was satisfying. And I was unable to look away, so captivated by the arousing scene before me, this lovely young college girl, scribbling away on her final exam, dressed in such a fetching outfit, touching herself in an innocent but extremely arousing way.

I forced myself to turn back to my proofreading job, hoping that the distraction of this mundane but necessary task would temper the arousal that was raging through me. When I looked up again, her hand was still in her lap, but her legs were closer together and she was sitting more upright in her chair. Yet there was no mistaking the state of her arousal since the sharp points of her nipples protruding into the soft material of her top were plainly visible.

A while later, my arousal had dissipated somewhat and I was able to get up and take another tour of the classroom without embarrassing myself, pausing to look out the window at the gorgeous spring day. The trees and shrubs and flowers had bloomed fully and there was a definite scent of the new season in the air. I began to look forward to my late afternoon jog around the campus. I heard a stirring in the classroom and looked around to see the first student who had finished, rise up from his chair and gather his things.

"Ah, Mr. Portis. I guess you get the booby prize," I said approaching him and taking his exam booklet. "Are you sure you're finished?"

"Yeah. Guess so," he answered dully. "Why?'"

"You still have a lot of time remaining," I said taking note of the clock.

"Nah, I'm all set. Thanks," he answered before shuffling out of the room.

I set his paper on my desk and returned to the spare desk where I had been proofreading. Soon enough a handful of other students began to finish up and hand in their exams. Since Lizzie was such a good student I was surprised that she wasn't one of them, but she continued to write. I did notice that she was attaching some additional pages to her booklet. I remembered back to her mid-term exam when she submitted some of the finest student essays that I had ever read. Perhaps she was attempting to outdo her previous performance.

When I checked on the remaining members of the class and carried the papers that the students had given to me while sitting at the side chair over to the desk, I looked up to see Lizzie bent over her chair still writing, her free hand on top of the desk but her legs spread apart, enough so that I could see up her skirt to the sheer pink material of her panties pulled tightly against the cleft of her young sex. But then I didn't remember them being quite so sheer when glimpsing them earlier. Were they sheer before or had they become damp and transparent in the meantime?

Before my mind could wander too much farther and my body responded accordingly, I shook off my prurient imagination and returned to my seat to resume my proofreading with a vengeance. I couldn't let this vision of arousing innocence get to me. I buried my mind in searching avidly for misspellings and punctuation errors and poor syntax. I was aware that a couple of students had finished up and placed their exams on my desk before leaving.

"Professor Thompson? Professor Thompson?"

"What?" I said looking up to see Lizzie standing in front of me, extending her booklet with one hand while her other arm held her backpack.

"I'm finished now," she said in her soft light feminine voice.

"Um, well sure. Great," I said taking her booklet in hand. Looking around I saw that the room was empty except for the two of us. "Thanks."

"Thank you," she replied with a lovely smile. "I um, really enjoyed your class, Professor Thompson. You really made this my favorite class this semester."

"Well, thank you, Lizzie. I'm glad that you enjoyed it so much. It's been a pleasure having you in class. Will you be coming back in the fall?"

"Oh, yes. I'll be a senior and want to take your Shakespeare class before I graduate."

"Wonderful. I only teach that in the fall so be sure to sign up."

"Yeah, I will," she said, looking as if she was going to turn and leave. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"So will I," I said, letting my eyes wander over the trim curves of her body, memorizing each line since I wouldn't see her again till fall at the earliest. As my eyes traveled back up along her long shapely legs, past the flair of her hips and the generous curves of her breasts to dwell on her dark blue eyes, I sensed that there was something else she wanted to say. "It will be a pleasure to have you in my class again."

"Cool," she replied. "I hope you don't mind me saying so, but you've kind of become like my fave prof."

"Oh, really? I have?" I said feeling a warm sensation emerge inside me from her flattering remark. "But you're in the nursing program aren't you? I would think that the handsome Dr. Fabian would be your favorite."

"Professor Tall Dark And Handsome?" she replied with a giggle.

"Is that what you call him?" I asked with a chuckle. "That's the man I would think you lovely young student nurses would all moon over."

"We actually call him something else," she said looking down as her cheeks began to blush a rosy hue. "Some of the girls really like him, but I prefer someone a little older and more experienced and not as pretty boy."

"Hmm, now I don't feel quite so flattered," I said, getting up from the chair and moving over toward my desk. "But that's okay. I think I understand what you meant." I was surprised that, as she followed me over near my desk, she took a seat at her desk, leaning back casually making herself comfortable as if she expected to stay a while.

"It's not that you aren't handsome, Professor Thompson, you are-at least I think so, anyway," Lizzie remarked. "But I've really enjoyed your class. The way you know the books so well and go out of your way to make them relevant to us. That's really cool. I know it's improved my own appreciation of good writing."

"It's hard sometimes trying to find the way to reach all my students. I realize that I'll never get to all of you, so it's nice to know that those I've reached appreciate the effort."

"Oh, I appreciate the effort," she said, her big blue eyes trained on me. "And then some."

"May I ask you a question, Lizzie?"

"Sure. Anything."

"This is kind of awkward for me, but I am a curious kind of guy," I began. "Let me know if you think I'm out of line here, but earlier while you were writing out your exam, were you aware of how you were um, touching yourself?"

Her blush became complete with my question.

"What do you mean?" she asked, clearly flustered.

"Well, while you were writing, your free hand was kind of wandering."

"Oh that. Did it bother you?" she asked recovering and projecting a rather convincing air of innocence.

"Not really," I replied. "To be completely honest, I actually found it arousing. In an innocent kind of way, I mean."

"I hope you don't find this weird ... but sometimes when I write I do that to sort of stimulate myself. When I get all turned on, it starts my juices flowing ... um, my creative juices."

I smiled. "I'm not complaining, mind you," I told her. "It made an otherwise nondescript exam date pretty exciting."

"So, um ... did it ... like turn you on?"

"Honestly?"

She nodded, eager to hear my answer.

"Very much. I had to stay in my seat for quite a while before I got up."

"Ohmigod! I can't believe this," Lizzie squealed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No ... no ... no. It's not embarrassing. It's actually kind of a turn on."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's kind of why I wore this outfit," she said, her eyes widening with excitement. "I always appreciate the shy, curious way you sort of check me out. And well, not to sound conceited or anything I know I do look pretty hot in it. I was going to wear my schoolgirl outfit but thought that might be too obvious. I guess I just wanted to give you something to remember me by."

"Well, no matter what you're wearing, I certainly won't forget you, Lizzie."

She sat still for a moment, as if considering her next words carefully.

"So I was kind of getting to you?" she asked in a soft voice. She bit lightly on her lower lip.

I nodded.

"Kind of turned you on?"

"More than kind of."

"Ohmigod! That is such a turn on for me."

"What are you saying, Lizzie?"

"You remember what I was saying about how you are my fave prof? Well, I have had like this big crush on you all semester. I think about you all the time. Sometimes I think about you when I'm in class and I get so ... so ... wet ... you know, down here." Lizzie reached her hand down between her legs and rubbed momentarily against her sex then withdrew her hand quickly and folded it with the other in her lap as if that would restrain her from another caress. Lizzie was clearly flustered by her admission. Her cheeks had turned a deep rosy red color, her eyes were blinking quickly, and her soft voice was growing tense.

"Lizzie, that is more than flattering. I'm just not sure how to take it."

"Oh, please. Take it the best way. I mean you are a very attractive and sexy man. You've traveled and studied all over. You've met famous authors. You're published. You always say the cutest things. Any girl could find herself going for a guy like you in a big way."

"I'm not sure about that. Most girls around your age don't fancy older men who are as old or older than their own fathers."

"But I'm not most girls, Professor. I really like you."

"So let me ask you this, Lizzie. Was that little business earlier for my benefit or was it just sort of an innocent thing?"

"It was really kind of innocent cause I wasn't really aware of doing it," she replied. "But if it did have an effect on you, then I'm kind of glad, cause you've been having an effect on me all semester long."

"Really? Like when?"

"Remember after midterms when I stayed after class and we had that big long talk on Lawrence's Women In Love? The way you talked about the symbolism and the underlying sexuality in that book was so hot ... I was so turned on that I couldn't wait to get back to my dorm and, um ... pleasure myself."

For a moment the image that popped into my head overwhelmed me. Instantly I could see Lizzie prone on her bed in her dorm room, her clothes pulled or pushed aside as she fingered herself while fantasizing about me. Instantly, I felt my body gain a degree or two in temperature and my manhood twinge. I wasn't sure how to respond.

"So, Professor Thompson, do you ... do you ever ... think about me?"

"I'm not sure what to say about that," I said while I thought about what she had asked. Did I think about her? Of course, quite often. Had I ever fantasized about her? Yes, a few times. Was it proper to admit such things to her? Absolutely not. The next step, as tempting as it was, given her lush ripened young beauty, could likely destroy my career, at least at this University. But she deserved something of a better answer. I leveled my eyes at her. "Yes, Lizzie, I think of you, from time to time."

"Like any just another student in another class, or as something else?"

"You are certainly not just another student, and there may have been a time or two when I thought about you as something else."

"Did you ever think about me when you were like, you know ... doing it?"

"Lizzie, I think that this conversation has gone about as far as ..."

"What about now, Professor Thompson? Is there a reason why you're hiding behind your desk and won't get up and move closer?"

As she sat in her chair, her legs spread slightly, her back arching enough to thrust her great breasts forward, she was definitely having an effect on me. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could feel my cock curled painfully up inside my briefs, painfully because I was so aroused and my cock wanted its freedom. Why hadn't I at least worn boxers today?

"Yes, there is, and if I stood up and moved around to your side of the desk you would see the reason."

"Show me. I want to see," Lizzie said. "I want to know everything about you."

Lizzie sat in the chair looking so appealing, leaning forward just a little, her pretty face smiling seductively, the curves of her gorgeous breasts surging up visibly in the vee of her top, her long legs parted slightly, the dark channel between them tantalizing me. I rested my hands on the desk and pushed myself up from the chair. As soon as I stood up completely, Lizzie's gaze shifted down to the bulge in my slacks.

"I ... I did that?" she giggled nervously. "Oh, Professor Thompson!"

While I slowly walked around the corner of my desk, I glanced down and could see the obvious lump that had spurred her comment. When I looked back at Lizzie, her eyes were intently concentrating on my crotch. I sat on the corner of my desk facing her, my leg splayed to the side, my raging hard-on throbbing inside the confinement of my briefs.

"Does that hurt?" she asked, her blue eyes opened wide.

"Not exactly, but in a way, yes."

"You should really do something about that," Lizzie said. "I could help." She seemed to grow more aroused by the minute. Her breathing was growing fast and shallow, her complexion becoming rosier, and the tips of her breasts were protruding sharply into the fabric of her top.

"I'm sure that you could, but I can't let that happen, Lizzie," I said, struggling to remain the mature, responsible educator on which I staked my reputation.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm your Professor and your test paper is in this stack that I have to grade," I said slowly. I got the feeling that she heard me but wasn't really listening to what I was saying. "For me to do something like that would be akin to harassment and until your grade is filed with the Dean's Office, we have to keep our hands to ourselves."

She lifted her gaze up to my face and looked deeply into my eyes. I could see flickering in her baby blue eyes an urgent lustful desire that was nearly strong enough to overcome my better judgment.

"So it doesn't matter that I'm sitting here thinking about how much I want to be with you?" Lizzie said, her voice trembling. "I can see how much you want to be with me."

When I shook my head, Lizzie rose up from her seat and moved toward me. As she approached, I could smell the scent of her perfume mixed with the aroma of her arousal, and could sense the heat of her body. She stood right in front of me, her chest softly heaving, close enough that I could see the round fullness of her breasts in the open neck of her light blue top. When she put her hand on my thigh, I rested my hand on top of hers.

"Don't," I warned.

"Why? I just want you to be comfortable."

Lizzie brushed my hand aside and ran her fingers over the bulge in my lap, tracing her fingertips over my coiled up erection. Through the fabric of my slacks she maneuvered my cock around so that it was pointed straight, bringing a sigh of relief from me.

"How's that? Better?" she asked and backed away a half step.

"Much. Thank you," I said gratefully. "For a moment I thought that you might-"

"Might what, Professor?" she asked quickly. "Offer to suck your cock or something?"

"Well, um ... not exactly," I said, now clearly the flustered one. "But thank you for what you did. I feel much more comfortable."

Lizzie flashed a satisfied smile and parted her lips. Then she ran the pink little tip of her tongue around her lips, moistening them.

"Anytime you need to get comfortable, Professor, be sure to ask me." With an impish grin, Lizzie turned and gathered up her purse and books. Then she looked back at me over her shoulder. "When are you going to post the grades?"

"Uh, Tuesday. Next Tuesday."

"Maybe I'll drop by your office Tuesday afternoon."

I nodded and watched as she sauntered out of my classroom, her skinny little ass swaying back and forth in what I was sure was a deliberate motion. My pulse was racing, my hands were damp and so was my neck under the collar of my shirt. My fully erect cock lay throbbing in my lap. The rest of the day I was haunted by the look of deep lust in her eyes and the images that her little flirtation had provoked in my mind. I could easily picture myself with her, imagining the two of us in my off-campus apartment, how I would lift off her top and ease it over her head, how I'd fumble for the snap and zip of her skirt, how my hands would tremble with excitement as they slipped off her panties, and how my heart would thump in my chest at the sight of her naked body spread across my bed.

The fact that those images didn't leave my mind made my marking of her final exam all the harder. I saved her paper until the last hoping that time would give me a little more objectivity. When my TA reviewed them, he made a comment about Lizzie's paper.

"What's with this one?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I said, fearful that I had deviated too far from the rest of the class.

"Don't you think you were sort of harsh?" he commented. "This is clearly a superior paper. Her work has improved so much all year, yet you only gave her a B."

"I uh, noticed her improvement, but um, thought that maybe she could have done a little better. The final won't affect her overall grade for the semester."

"Okay. Whatever you think. I would have given her an A or and A plus. She showed a mastery of the subject and her writing captured my interest right from the start."

"Well, maybe I was a little tough on her."

"And you're normally a pushover when it comes to good writers," he commented.

"About time I grew some backbone, don't you think?"

He groaned but I was planning on giving Lizzie an A any way it wouldn't matter what grade I assigned to her final.

* * *

With a due date for submission of my teaching handbook looming, I spent most of the following Tuesday in my office polishing the manuscript. I had filed all of the grades with the Dean's office first thing in the morning and later on had seen the tabulations being tacked up along the hallway just before noon. I wondered if Lizzie was going to make good on her promise to visit me or not. The more I thought about it, the more I began to think that this was some sort of game for her. Maybe a friend or a roommate had put her up to it. Not that she seemed like a conniving sort of girl, she didn't, but I had some doubts and couldn't be completely sure that I wasn't part of a college girl wager pledged in the fit of a drunken weekend bash. So after several uneventful hours of editing, I needed a break and some fresh air. If I missed her while I was out, it wouldn't be that big a deal, would it? The story of my life, right?

The afternoon was warm and balmy although a little more humid than I prefer. I sat on a bench in the shade of the Diag and started to think over just what I was doing for the hundredth time. I had awakened in the morning thinking of Lizzie's promise, wondering if she would show, anticipating what I would say and do if she did. Would we talk about the class and discuss her grade? Would our conversation get personal? Would we, could we, should we touch, kiss, caress, have sex? My years at the University had taught me the value of ethics and responsibility. And now here was a student who was tempting me to cross over that line. Lizzie, sweet and sexy Lizzie Featherstone. I couldn't get the image of her smile and her curvy shape out of my mind.

And then I heard the clicking of a pair of heels along one of the other walkways that led toward the Arts & Sciences building where my office was located. I looked up and saw her, Lizzie, strolling along the pavement. Apparently she couldn't see me sitting in the shade beside an adjacent path. Lizzie looked absolutely mouthwatering with her long pale blonde hair hanging loose and freeing flowing past her shoulders. She was wearing a white cotton halter-top with bright pink lace edging. From the bounce and sway of her breasts, she was obviously not wearing a bra. A short pink skirt that rode low on her hips swished around her ass, flashing just the sweetest little glimpse of the pale cheeks of her butt.

I felt my pulse begin to race at the sight of her sauntering along the pavement, all fully ripened young female sexuality. All of my lengthy well-thought out rationale was quickly evaporating. I felt this amazing tingling inside and got up to follow after her. I paused just outside the doorway and asked myself if I knew what I was doing. It didn't matter since I had no idea what I would do or say. This wasn't a well-planned lecture; it was going to be entirely extemporaneous and ad lib.

Inside the cool hallway I could see her walking along well ahead of me, checking out the listings. Then she stopped and looked closely, running her finger over one of the posted pages. What looked like a satisfied grin warmed her face and she took a step back and nodded. Then she turned and headed toward the stairway that led up toward my second floor office. I hurried after her and climbed the stairs two at a time. When I reached the upper hall I saw that she was just about to my office. She had taken a step inside when I hustled past the mostly empty offices along the hallway and reached the doorway to mine.

"Well, hello, Lizzie," I said, easing past her and moving toward my desk. "I thought that maybe you weren't coming. Did you see your grade?"

"Yes, I did," she said, moving further inside the room and swinging the door shut. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I replied, leaning back and resting my butt on the edge of the desk. My hands dropped to my sides, coming to lightly grip the desktop. "But you deserve all the credit for that. You're a smart girl and worked hard, participated in class, and wrote some of the best papers I've seen in a couple of years."

As I spoke she walked to my desk, set down her purse on the visitor's chair beside the desk, and then moved over so that she was standing right in front of me. The fabric of her halter-top was white and thin and, with the humidity of the afternoon, it was clinging to her luscious curves and was now sheer enough that I could see the outlines of her nipples underneath. My cheeks felt warm and flushed. I could feel a few tiny traces of perspiration on my upper lip.

"I don't think you understand, Professor," Lizzie said in her softest sexiest voice. "I didn't drop by to thank you for my grade. This doesn't have anything to do with the class or my grade. I just really wanted to thank you for everything else, for giving me something interesting and stimulating to look forward to each week."

She was standing up close to me now. She leaned forward and rested her hands on my chest. I could feel the warmth of her body through the fine silk of my shirt.

"I appreciate your um, compliment, Lizzie, but I-" I started to say, but she cut me off.

"Let's not play around, Professor," she said, leaning her face in toward mine. "We both know why we're here."

"Yes," I said, my hands coming to rest lightly on the bare skin of her hips. "You're here to check on your grade and I'm here to ... um ... to ... to tie up loose ends from the completed semester."

"You're so cute, Professor," she whispered as she leant her head closer to mine so that our noses touched together. "We both have some loose ends to tie up. I don't know about you, but I don't like a semester to end until everything that was started is finished completely."

"I admire your, um ... persistence," I said. My voice was deep and soft but cracking just a bit. I could feel her warm breath on my face. "And who am I to stifle your need for resolution?"

Her dark blue eyes were looking dreamily into mine. I wasn't sure what she was seeing, but I wasn't going to ask any silly questions. I simply leaned toward her, our noses brushing and our mouths slowly coming together. Her lips were warm and soft and wet. I closed my eyes and tasted her lips, feeling the heat and pleasure of our gentle kiss. She hummed softly and maintained the kiss, as if not wanting it to end. After several long luscious moments our tongues came out to play and we finally tasted each other's mouth. She was just as delicious as I had dreamed.

I guided my trembling hands up her back, my fingertips lightly tracing every curve and line. Lizzie melted into my arms and let her body fall against me as she ran her hands up over my chest to my shoulders. She pressed forward against me and purred as our lips mashed together and our tongues wrestled back and forth. I fell back onto my desk and took her with me. As our hungry mouths and greedy tongues played wildly, we snaked our way up onto the desktop sending some books and papers flying off. She climbed up to straddle my hips as we continued to kiss each other with a passion that had been building for months. Then I felt the mound of her sex rub against my cock, which was growing hard and thick inside my slacks, and I groaned with a forbidden pleasure.

"Lizzie ... Lizzie," I kept saying in between each deep wet kiss. "We really shouldn't ... not here ... not now."

"Yes, Professor," she insisted. "We should ... we're going to ... here and now."

"But someone might come in and catch us," I said weakly as she kissed and nibbled my neck.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Lizzie asked and then licked my neck near the ear.

"N ... no," I sighed.

"Neither am I," she purred.

Then Lizzie sat up on top of me and began to unbutton my shirt. I lay there on my desk looking up at her, running my hands down her back and over the sumptuous smooth curves of her ass. When she had my shirt unbuttoned, she spread it open and leaned back down to kiss my naked chest. She raked her fingers through the light dusting of chest hair and fingered my hard little man nipples. When she kissed them I moaned and lifted her head up to look deeply into her eyes.

"This is crazy, Lizzie," I said.

"I know, cuz I'm crazy about you," she replied, sitting up again.

"This is so wrong," I protested. "You're a student, I'm a teacher-I'm your teacher."

"Not anymore you aren't."

"But ... but ... you're so young," I said, bringing my hands around to rest on top of hers where they lay on my chest.

"And I want you so much, Professor," she told me. "All semester long I've wanted you. I've tried to let you know, to make you come to me. But now that the semester is over, there's no reason why we can't."

"But we ... you ... me ..."

"I know you want me, Professor," Lizzie said looking down into my eyes.

I was tripped up by my own surging lust. I knew that she could read my expression like a Hemingway novel. With her pale blonde hair pulled back from her face, her dark blue eyes gleaming with her own lust, and her golden tanned body poised so perfectly on top of me, there was no masking my feelings. Certainly the mound of her sex perched atop my stiffening hard-on confirmed what she saw on my face.

Lizzie gave me the sexiest little smile then reached up behind her neck and untied her halter. She slowly peeled the straps down until her perfect breasts were bared. The sight of their pert roundness took my breath away. They were pert and firm, not huge but a wonderfully full size with small, light pink aureoles and quite erect nipples. She reached for my hands and lifted them to her breasts. I was definitely trembling as I touched her tits for the first time. Her nipples were already taut and stiff and she arched her back and pressed them into my palms. Gently I cupped them and squeezed them, my fingertips drawing circles around her puckered aureoles.

"Lizzie ... Lizzie ... you're beautiful," I breathed heavily.

Lizzie flashed me a pleased grin and bent over so that her breasts were right in my face. She guided one then the other to my mouth and let me lick and kiss and suck on her sensitive nipples. The eagerness of my kiss must have turned her on. She began to moan softly, rocking her hips and grinding her pussy against the throbbing bulge in my pants. When I had smeared the wetness of my kisses over her hard stiff nipples, she sat up again and began to ease herself down from the desk.

I lifted my head up to see what she was doing. She pulled her halter top up and off over her head and leaned back over the desk so that she was propped between my legs. She ran her hands up over my thighs and then over my crotch, running her fingertips along the long hard shaft of my cock and the full heavy sack of my balls underneath. I twitched and moaned as she fondled me. When she began to unbuckle my belt, I groaned loudly.

"Lizzie, lock the door," I said in a voice thick with lust.

She stood up and looked down at me. "What's the matter, Professor Thompson?" she said as she backed up toward the door. "Afraid that someone might stumble in on us in a compromising position?"

I nodded frantically. She grinned impishly and snapped the lock on.

"Afraid that someone might barge in?" she cooed and moved back toward where I lay on the desk. "Afraid that someone might see me pull out this big old cock of yours and suck on it until you cum in my mouth?"

I groaned and nodded as she unzipped me and fished her hand inside my pants. My cock was long and hard and practically popped out on its own. It stood up proudly from my body nearly nine inches long. Her blue eyes grew large at the sight.

"Ohmigod, Professor!" she cooed. "This is one big old cock. Mmm! Yum!"

Lizzie held it at the base with one hand while she stroked it softly with the other. She leaned forward and threatened to take it into her mouth. My body writhed when she stopped short, the head of my dick just a fraction of an inch from her open mouth. I looked at her pleadingly.

"Is there something wrong, Professor?" she asked, licking her lips and holding her tongue so that is flashed between her teeth.

"No, no. Oh, Jesus, Lizzie. I know that we shouldn't be doing this, but I want you so much. I've thought of you so many times, indecent and inappropriate thoughts. But you're so young and smart and sexy that I just can't help myself. I want you."

The words shot out of my mouth like gunfire and with the same sort of power. I wanted her so badly and I could tell that she wanted me the same.

"Do you want me to lick your big old cock, Professor?" she asked, flicking her tongue toward my hot hard dick.

I nodded feebly.

"Do you want me to kiss your tasty old cock?"

Again I nodded, but more emphatically.

"Do you want me to suck it deep into my mouth until you cum down my throat?" she asked.

My eyes closed and my head fell back against the desk.

"Yes, I want you everyway I can have you, Lizzie," I moaned, feeling the warmth of her hand on my shaft and the gentle wet flicking of her tongue near the tip.

My cock was throbbing in her hands; it was twitching with a deep mad desire that none of my book learning had never taught me. Letting go of my cock, Lizzie stood up and opened up my slacks the rest of the way. She gently tucked my long rigid cock through the opening of my boxers and pulled them and my pants down my legs to my ankles. Then she bent down between my legs and took hold of my cock and balls.

Without another word, she began to lick my long hard shaft from bottom to top, on every side that her tongue could curl. And when she had me fully hard and slick with her saliva, she started to kiss my cock, rubbing her lips up and down all over my rigid manhood. Her hands never left me, stroking my shaft and fondling my ball sack as her lips kissed every inch of my dick. When I was fully hard, she brought her lips to the head of my cock and kissed it. Slowly but surely she gradually opened her mouth and began to suck me inside, just the head at first. Her tongue flickered about the head, swirling and twirling around and around until I was groaning and flopping around on the desk.

My fingers burrowed through her hair and gripped her head. I wasn't trying to force her down onto me, I was just hanging on for dear life as she sucked me viciously. Slowly, she began to bob her head up and down on me, making my hot cock throb even more as she sucked me deeper and deeper into her mouth. She sped up and slowed down, sucked me deep and hard until I was ready to cum and then backed off and stroked me softly and gently. She was doing it exactly as I had wanted her to, making me thrash about on my desk, sending the rest of my books and papers and pencils to the floor.

When I felt my ass tighten up and my cock throb with its impending release, Lizzie gripped the base tightly and slid my dick out of her mouth. She lowered her mouth and began to kiss and lick my balls. She suckled my nutsack, taking each one into her hot wet mouth and swirling her tongue around each nut before leading her tongue back up to my cock.

Slowly she eased up her grip and backed away from me, letting her hands trail down over my thighs until we were no longer touching. I was filled with an incredibly intense feeling of desire for her. For a moment I just looked at her standing there before me, her pale blonde hair trailing down over one shoulder, her gorgeous breasts and erect upturned nipples bared, her pretty face flashed a fantastic grin. I wanted her so much. I pushed myself up from the desk and leaned toward her. My hands reached out to grab her arms and pull her closer to me. As she fell against my chest, my arms surrounded her and crushed her against my body. I kissed her with all the power and a passion that I could feel welling up inside me. As I rose up from the desk, I took hold of her and spun her around, laying her back onto my desk.

I ran my hands over her legs, her calves and her thighs. Then I began to kiss her legs, my warm wet lips and hot wet tongue kissed and licked her calves, her knees, and the soft tender skin of her thighs. Her skirt had fallen about her hips, revealing her pink lacy string panties. They were so tiny they could barely cover the folds of her pussy. I chuckled as my fingers traced lightly over the sheer lace.

"What?" she said looking up at me, a look of tremendous lust and desire coloring her face.

"You don't know how many times I've dreamed of being here and doing this," I said.

"What?" she asked. "Feeling my pussy while I'm laying on your desk?"

Her body was quivering with a wanton need as my hands caressed her thighs and pussy.

"No, just this," I said, letting my fingers slip underneath the lace panel of her panties.

Her body was on fire as my fingertips brushed over her clit and down the damp slit of her pussy.

"And this," I said as my fingers continued down along her slit until they circled around her asshole.

She lifted her legs up and rested her heels on the desk, spreading herself wide open for me. I grinned and grabbed at the scrap of lace that lay between her legs.

"And this," I said tugging her panties to the side, baring the sweet glistening folds of her completely shaven sex to my hungry eyes. "Oh, God, I want you so much!"

For a brief moment, I fingered her wet little pussy from top to bottom, very easy and gentle on her clit and very deep and probing with her opening. Then I grinned devilishly and lowered my face down until my lips closed around her clit just as two of my fingers pushed up inside her pussy. First my tongue gently circled her clit and teased it out from its hood. Then I kissed it and suckled it and took it between my lips. All the while my fingers were pushing deep up inside her wet liquid depths, turning and twisting and driving her toward the first of several orgasms.

I like to take my time pleasing a woman and I certainly didn't want to rush with Lizzie. With soft gentle kisses and sweet caresses I brought her up step by step, increasing her arousal until she was screaming and crying and writhing and wriggling all over my desk. I buried my face deep between her thighs, licking and sucking and fingering her pussy madly. God, she tasted so sweet! Her hips were rocking and swiveling in a circular pattern as she moaned and cried out. She came once then twice, and when my pinky finger flirted with her asshole and probed up inside her tight nether hole, she mashed my face between her thighs and rocked her hips up against my mouth. I kissed and licked and suckled her pussy almost endlessly.

"Oh, Professor! Oh, god, yes! Yes! Yes!" she screamed as a huge orgasmic wave swept over her.

I began to ease up as her legs relaxed and her thighs fell away from my face. I kissed my way up from the folds of her slick little pussy, over the soft flat contour of her belly, and then up between the mounds of her breasts. Kissing each nipple lovingly I felt her hands reach for my head and pull me up for a kiss. Tasting her wetness on my mouth, she kissed me eagerly.

"Professor Thompson," she said softly.

"What, Lizzie?"

"Would you please fuck me?"

Hearing Lizzie ask me in a soft little girl voice sent a shiver down my spine and brought a groan to my lips.

"Please, Professor," she pleaded softly. "I want you to fuck me with that big old cock of yours."

Pushing up from the desk I stood between the spread of her legs, running my hands down along her thighs and calves. I helped her down from the desk and turned her around so that she was facing it. With my hand on the small of her back I bent her over and she giggled as she rested her elbows on the desktop. Lizzie looked back over her shoulder as I pushed her skirt up over the sweet cheeks of her ass. I tugged at the dainty strings of her panties and pulled them down till they came to rest at her knees.

"Oh, Professor. Please fuck me! Please!" she pleaded, wiggling her pert buns at me.

I ran my hands over her ass, exploring the crack of her ass and pussy with my thumbs and forefingers while palming her warm round cheeks. Her pussy was drenched and she shivered when my fingertips grazed her slit. I slipped two fingers up inside her pussy and my thumb pressed up against her ass.

"Oh, god, Professor! Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me right now!" Lizzie begged. "Please!"

With my pants still gathered at my ankles, I eased my hands away from her slit, stepped forward and brought my cock up between her legs. Rubbing the head back and forth over her slick folds, I teased her clit, her pussy and her ass.

"You want me to fuck you, Lizzie?" I asked needlessly.

She rocked her hips back trying to impale her pussy on my cock.

"Yes, please!" she begged. "I want to feel you inside me so bad! Please now, Professor! Stop teasing and fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

The sight of this beautiful intelligent young woman begging me to have sex with her was so arousing. My dick had never felt so hard nor had it ever throbbed so much. I found the hot wet entrance to her pussy and pressed the fat mushy head against her.

"Oh, god, yes! Fuck me!" she cried out, wiggling her ass back against me.

Slipping just the head inside her, I paused and felt her warm folds stretch and surround my cock head. It felt like walking into heaven to be inside her at last. No more flirting, no more teasing, no more taunting or tantalizing looks.

"That feels so good!" Lizzie exclaimed as I thrust my cock deeper into her pussy.

With long slow deep strokes we began to move together. Lizzie met my every thrust, the firm cheeks of her ass smacking against my belly, my balls slapping against her clit. Several times I just paused while my cock was buried completely inside her, feeling the warm creamy depths of her cunt. Then I would grip her hips and slid my cock nearly all the way out before stuffing it back inside her.

"Ohmigod! Ohmigod! Ohmigod!" Lizzie cried out as I began to take her hard and fast from behind.

I reached underneath her body and fondled her breasts as they bounced and swayed. I captured her nipples and pulled and twisted them. I fingered her clit until she came again. When she regained her breath, Lizzie pushed herself up from the desk, still rocking her hips. She leaned back against me, her hand reaching behind for me. I leaned forward and kissed her. Slowly she disengaged her pussy from my cock and turned around. She climbed onto my desk again and rolled onto her back, spreading her legs for me. I looped her long legs up over my shoulders and began to hump her madly, thrusting my cock into her wet hot pussy hard and fast.

"Cum in my pussy, Professor!" she called out. "Cum, baby! Cum, baby!"

The sound of her sweet voice, the sight of her gorgeous young body writhing and bucking with each thrust, and the look of incredible lust in her dark blues eyes was driving me crazy. I slammed my body against hers wildly, riding the surging wave of pleasure that was washing over both of us. Her legs slipped down from my shoulders and I leaned forward and clutched at her body with both arms.

"Cum, Professor! Cum in my wet little pussy," Lizzie whispered into my ear. She licked around the rim of my ear and nibbled on the lobe. "Cum for me, Professor! Cum, baby!"

Then I felt the rising tide of passion swell up inside me. I fucked her pussy savagely, pulling my cock nearly completely out of her and then ramming it deep inside her again and again and again. Lizzie wrapped her legs around my hips and ground her pussy against me desperately. With a blinding blaze of sensation I felt my cum erupt into her pussy. I was sweating and grunting like a beast as I filled her quivering cunt with my sticky seed.

With a few final thrusts I fell upon her body. The room was quiet now except for the sounds of our recovering breath. We kissed with a fever that equaled our just-completed lovemaking. My cock was wet and sticky and still buried deep inside her, unwilling to give up this recently conquered territory.

"I just knew you would be a good lover," Lizzie remarked, her fingertips brushing through my hair.

"From the way you turned me on, there was no doubt in my mind," I replied.

When my cock finally relinquished its place in Lizzie's deep wet cunt, she began to shift underneath me.

"I should really get going," Lizzie said.

"So may I call you?" I asked helping her up from the desktop.

"You can try, but no promises."

"So that's the way it is, just a one-shot deal?"

"Why? Did you think I was in love with you, Professor?" she asked, standing before me completely naked and entirely provocative. Her dark blue eyes looked deeply into mine. "Are you in love with me?"

"I'm not talking about love, Lizzie. I thought we had more than just this. I thought there was a real connection between you and me." She didn't say a word and I stood there feeling like a complete fool. "I guess I was mistaken."

"Don't be sad," Lizzie replied. "If it's meant to be, we'll find each other again."

I watched as she dressed slowly and languidly, pulling on her little string panties, her skirt, and tying up her white halter-top. She paused at the door and looked back at me.

"You are my fave professor," she said with a fabulous sexy grin. "See ya!"

And then she was gone.

***

It was one week to the day after our little meeting in my office when I next saw Lizzie. Each night before falling asleep I would think of her, wondering where she was, who the lucky guy was she was with, what she was wearing, whether she was thinking at all of me. I pictured her in her dorm or apartment all fresh from the shower, her towel tucked around her body. She would loosen her towel letting it fall about her hips and begin to rub lotion onto her body, her arms and legs, her breasts and belly. The thought of her touching herself, running her fingers through the folds of her sweet little pussy, would turn me on so incredibly.

And now there she was with some friends sitting at a table in O'Toole's Irish Pub. I was with Dr. Baldecker, another of the Lit profs, holding forth at the bar with some of our colleagues when I heard her unmistakable laugh. I turned to see her face lit up with laughter, her eyes sparkling, and her lips formed into a bright smile. I wasn't sure if she saw me at first. Trying not to stare too long, I surveyed her friends. There was a perky little brunette, a tall rangy blonde, another cute but shy appearing brunette and Lizzie. A couple of guys nearby seemed to be trying to pick up on them, but the girls seemed disinterested. They all seemed to be about the same age. It was a warm late Spring evening and all were dressed casually in low riser jeans or skirts and tight skimpy tops that showed off their supple young bodies superbly.

"You all right, Thompson?" Baldecker asked me when he noticed my lingering gaze.

"Oh quite," I replied turning back to my Johnnie Walker Black on the rocks. "Just doing a little research."

"Those look like dangerous waters to be researching," Baldecker replied looking over to where Lizzie's group of friends erupted again in laughter. "Or is it just wishful research?"

"Just recognized one of them as a former student from my Contemporary Lit class last semester." I took another glance over at her and then shook my head before slugging down a healthy shot of Johnnie. I couldn't really tell him a thing about what had happened between Lizzie and me the week before.

"Former students are acceptable," Baldecker said with a leer. "But still dangerous. Which one is she?"

"The blonde on the far side of the table with the long pale blonde hair."

Baldecker took a lengthy look in that direction and turned back, impressed. "Pretty girl. Very mature for her age. Nice body. Very prime. And I'm sure that she is smart as a whip."

"Actually she is, one of the best students I ever had, even though she's not in our program."

"What's her course of study?"

"She's in the nursing school."

"Oh, baby! Look out!" Baldecker blurted out, nearly spewing his bourbon all over the bar. "You know what they say about nursing students."

"What is that?"

"Well, just think about it, all that knowledge of anatomy coupled with the stress of a life-or-death occupation, can make for some rather impressive encounters."

"Yeah, right!" I laughed. Baldecker didn't know the half of it.

Just then Professor Colburn on my other side began a lengthy but amusing story about losing her luggage during recent trip to Greece and I lost track of Lizzie. When I glanced back again she was missing from her table of friends, her chair empty but her drink still full. Potty call no doubt. The thought made me realize that I needed to do the same, so I excused myself from the bar and made my way through the loud raucous barroom toward the john. Just as I was about to push open the men's room door, the ladies room door swung open and Lizzie emerged. She was about to walk right by me when she paused for a moment and then smiled.

"Professor Thompson!" she exclaimed. "How are you? What are you doing here?"

"Hello, Lizzie. I'm great ... just heading in to do some business." As some other male patrons were following behind me, I stood away from the door to let them pass inside and Lizzie followed along. "So how have you been?"

"I've been great! Just working a regular shift at the hospital during the summer." Stray strands of her pale blonde hair floated freely to frame her pretty, smiling face. She brushed them back as she tilted her head back. "So what brings you to O'Toole's on a night like this?" she asked, her big dark blue eyes looking directly into mine.

I have to admit that at the moment she spoke, I was checking her out as she stood with me in the semi-darkened corridor. She was wearing a short little denim skirt that showed off her long shapely legs and a light blue tank top that clung to her curves lusciously. Even in the dim light I could a perfect outline of her breasts and the faint points of her nipples.

"Um, tonight?" I said forcing my mind back toward politeness and my eyes back to her pretty blues. "Oh, just having a drink or two with some associates. I figured that we were getting so loud along the bar that you would have noticed."

"Actually," Lizzie said, her eyes dropping for a moment. "I had noticed." She lifted her eyes back to mine. "I haven't stopped thinking about you, Professor. I think about you all the time."

"Well, I think about you a lot too, Lizzie."

She smiled broadly. "Nice things, I hope."

"Yes, very nice and sexy things."

"I want to hear some more about that," she said, dodging out of the way of some rowdies passing through the corridor. "Especially the sexy part."

The way she stood beside me, the flare of her hip shifted to one side, the tanned skin of her midriff tantalizingly bare, the pert sway of her breasts beneath just the thin fabric of her tank top, her glowing smile and sparkling eyes, were all combining to send my pulse racing. For a moment I was overcome by a primitive lustful need. I found her so sexually attractive that she became irresistible. Having had her once only made me want to have her more. And she must have sensed it too. Lizzie grinned and reached over to my face to stroke my cheek.

"Well I don't want to take you away from your friends or anything," I remarked. "You looked like you were having a great time."

"I can have a great time with them some other night."

Her hand slipped down from my cheek and over my chest. I reached up and took it into my hand and squeezed it gently.

"Would you like to get our own table?" I asked.

"I'd rather go someplace else, if you don't mind," Lizzie replied, squeezing my hand back. "Someplace quieter where you can tell me all those sexy things you've been thinking about me."

"Um, that could be arranged," I said slowly, thinking of a quiet and cozy little place just a few blocks away. "Ernesto's is a short walk away. They make the best Cosmo."

"Cosmos are passé, Professor," Lizzie laughed. "A cold beer or a glass of good wine is more my liking right now. Besides that's an old peoples hangout."

"So you haven't forgotten how much older I am than you."

"I haven't," Lizzie said sweetly. "But I was thinking more of your place or mine."

"My place or yours?" I said, nearly choking at the thought. "Well, yeah. We could do that. I don't know why I didn't think of that before."

"So?"

"So I guess we could take a little stroll," I began feeling my pulse race wildly out of control. "It's a beautiful night out and my place isn't far away."

Lizzie smiled broadly. "Then why don't you finish your business here and I'll go tell my friends that I'm leaving."

"Yeah, right ... I should do the same."

"Kewl beans. I'll meet you up by the bar then?"

"Yeah," I nodded with a smile.

Lizzie grinned and leaned toward me to plant a soft gentle kiss on my lips. Then she turned and disappeared into the noisy crowd in the main barroom. I slipped inside the men's room, my mind racing as fast as my heartbeat. I had never played around with female students before, and certainly had never considered it with one as young as Lizzie. But I found her so young and pretty and irresistible that when I stood by the urinal in the men's room and took out my cock I found it almost too firm to do my business. I had to think of something else for a few moments so that nature could take over. Just tucking it back inside made it grow thick with anticipation. I wasn't sure what it was, but little Miss Lizzie was certainly having an affect on me, one that I was enjoying very much.

Out in the main barroom, I caught a glimpse of Lizzie talking with her friends, her purse slung over her shoulder as she stood by her empty stool, and her jacket draped over her arm. I made my way toward the bar where Baldecker was waiting.

"We were about to send out a search party, old boy," he chuckled when I returned.

"No fear, Doctor B, I have found myself a date," I replied and then swallowed down the last of my Johnny Walker.

"Oh, you have, have you?" he said looking about just as Lizzie approached. "Well, well, well. Looky here! Have fun and be safe."

"Hey," Lizzie said as she bumped up against me at the bar.

"Dr. John Baldecker, this is Lizzie."

They eyed each other; Lizzie's face was smiling brightly while Baldecker appeared to be appraising her more critically. But on second glance I realized that he was merely leering at her lovely young figure.

"Nice to meet you, Lizzie," he said then leaned toward her and whispered something into her ear. She listened and her eyes grew large, then she laughed.

"I'll be sure to do that," she replied to him.

"What?" I asked, curious about what he had said to her and the significance of her reply.

"Oh, nothing," Baldecker said. "Maybe you'll find out later."

"Well, we're off," I said to Baldecker as Lizzie and I moved away from the bar.

Lizzie waved to her friends and they waved back. I glanced over at them and waved myself. They were all laughing and chatting rapidly among themselves, probably cracking