The Professor's Pet

September 1986-2

At six feet tall and wearing stiletto heels to boot, she loomed almost half a foot above me as she breathed in my ear, methodically fondled it to its full engorgement and then clinically examined it.

Her sweet female scent, the warm closeness of her body, her firm clasp and expert manipulation all made my head swim alarmingly. I was bare seconds from swooning like a sissy little girl when she suddenly decided to test its resilience by pushing it sharply back down between my legs before releasing it to spring back upright.

This sudden sharp pain followed by so much gasping and waggling cleared my head just in time. As Dr. Teasel simultaneously wiped her hand on her hip as though to rid it of some taint, and grimly pronounced her satisfied verdict, I was able to fully appreciate the competing humiliation and excitement her words and action generated.

“Excellent! Length, perfect. Girth, even better. Just the right amount of foreskin, superb. A little chemical modification and you might be just what I’ve been needing…”

This last remark was kind of strange, but it was quickly swept from my awareness by what she said next.

“You’re in luck, boy. You and I will be having an affair.”

“An…an…an affair?”

Okay, I was still befuddled. But I was a sheltered kid from Ohio after all. My worldly professor lost no time at all in expressing her impatience.

“Yes, an ‘affair’. A highly secret s****l relationship. Does that fit into your vocabulary?” she sneered, as she finally moved around in front of me.

Stung a bit by her contempt, and moved more than ever by her inapproachable beauty, I boldly attempted then to assert my supposed sophistication.

“It does,” I declared, and I clumsily moved to kiss her and grope her left breast. Instantly she stopped me with a smart slap to the face and a vicious hiss.

“Stop right there, boy!

“We need to get a few things straight! There are going to be strict rules governing this relationship! And rule number one is no kissing! No kissing, and especially no unauthorized touching! You will keep your goddamn hands and your lips to yourself!

“I am not interested at all in ‘making out’, romance, or so-called ‘love-making’. I am interested solely in f*****g, specifically in me f*****g you in the female-superior position. That means you will always sit or lie submissively beneath me while I mount and ride your only redeeming feature: that ridiculously oversized c**k. Got it?”

Suitably chagrined, I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Good,” she declared. “That brings us to rule number two. No matter how intimate we become physically, I will tolerate no verbal familiarity. You will now and forever more always address me most respectfully and deferentially as befits an authority figure. You may call me ‘Ma’am’, ‘Professor’, ‘Dr. Teasel’, or any other honorific that we may subsequently agree on, but that is it. Understood?”

Increasingly intimidated and paradoxically increasingly aroused, I wet my lips and quietly replied, “Yes, Ma’am, Professor Teasel.”

“Good,” she smirked smugly. “That brings us to our last and most important rule of all. You must never, ever ejaculate in me. I don’t want to even smell your foul seed! If, after I’m finally through using you, you find it necessary to jerk off, that’s your business. Otherwise you will control yourself absolutely. If you can’t, then I will be forced to take matters out of your unworthy hands. But until you actually to disgrace yourself, I’m willing to trust you on just this one matter. But only this one! Now, sit down on that chair! Our affair is about to get underway!”

Still unbelievably stunned, incredibly intimidated and yet unbelievably aroused by all this, I numbly obeyed.

“Scoot your butt forward a bit,” my teacher ordered, and when I complied…

“Now reach your hands down by your sides, and grip the back legs of the chair below your ass…”

As soon as I did so, Dr. Teasel took a thick roll of two-inch wide white plastic tape and firmly secured my wrists to the back legs of the chair. While still trying to process this bondage, she moved back around in front of me, hitched up her oh-so short and split black skirt, and slid a pair of white lace panties down and off her amazing legs.

“I don’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself,” she breathed at me. “Nor do I trust you to keep your silly little trap shut when your virgin c**k at last gets its first true taste of a real-life f**k. So open your mouth wide, boy!” Long past disputing anything she said, I obeyed. Immediately my professor stuffed her already wet panties all the way in. She followed this with two strips of tape that gagged me quite comprehensively. Observing then my widening eyes and yet ever more intensely straining erection, she grinned more smugly than before but also waved a threatening finger in my face.

“Now we both know that it’s late in the day, boy. Most of the students and staff are gone. But some of these walls are still too thin. So you be quiet now! Not a sound from you, as I f**k us both into an utterly unprecedented oblivion!”

Still nearly fully clothed then, Dr. Teasel stepped up, hitched up her skirt again, straddled both me and the chair, and then lowered herself slowly down. One strong hand gripped the back of the chair, and the other reached down between her legs to grip my urgently pulsing rigidity, and carefully guide it into her.

I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I felt a hot wet kiss on the tip of my d**k, and then it was slipping smoothly into the most delightful sensation of hot insulation and compression imaginable. Breathing heavily through my nose, I still heard my teacher’s quiet moan of delight as she sank all the way down onto my turgid length until I was solidly socketed inside her.

Given our respective ‘problems’, the fit was beyond exquisite. My teacher’s entire weight depressed my lap and her thinly veiled breasts were only inches from my face. I could even make out the sharp red cones of her abnormally large n*****s, perfectly molded by the filmy fabric of her tightly-stretched shirt.

Now it was me who moaned uncontrollably, imagining the heaven of suckling such perfection, and my professor immediately hissed a warning at me.

“Shut up boy!”

After wriggling around a bit, reveling in the perfection of our connection, she then began to slide up and down my shaft, slowly at first but with quickly increasing speed. Soon it was her breath that was coming hot and heavy; her unconscious moans and even barely stifled cries that needed to be chastised. And then she abruptly changed tactics: sinking back down onto me as deeply as possible, leaning back and then launching herself headlong into a fervent pumping of her powerfully clutching cunt and hips.

This rocked my fully embedded erection back and forth inside of her, constantly massaging her most sensitive spot. Within seconds then her first orgasm shuddered through her, heralded by a lip-bitten keening and a wonderful undulation of her insides. Yet despite this she still pumped on, riding me in this obviously rewarding fashion until a second and even a third orgasm burst gloriously through her. And still she wasn’t sated. Panting explosively, grunting with effort, my teacher was soon using me so wildly and wantonly that the chair we were copulating on began a lurching slide across the floor. Finally it fetched up against a cinderblock wall, and braced this way it allowed for an even more aggressive attack. Dr. Teasel immediately leaned forward then and accelerated her violently bucking, hip-pumping rhythm to a truly staggering speed.

Up until this point, the sheer novelty of the experience was enough to keep me from climaxing. I was used to just the familiar feeling of my hand, after all, and not the hot swamp and rough ride of a real live female. But as I gradually became accustomed to the wonderful friction and frisson generated by an actual human v****a, I quickly found it far superior. Actual f*****g was to lonely m**********g like prime rib to a cheap hot dog. Soon I felt my head swimming alarmingly, and then my balls began tingling: always a reliable indicator of approaching orgasm. Recalling my teacher’s orders, I immediately began seeking some kind of distraction from all the insanely arousing sensations that were propelling me so headlong towards disaster...

As always when I needed something to think about, I promptly fell back upon my first real love, the game of soccer. I desperately began recalling all the goals I’d scored, naturally dwelling on the most memorable ones.

Frantically I replayed over and over again the incredible free kick that had won us the sectional championship in high school, and also earned me the interest of collegiate scouts and finally, the athletic scholarship that somehow landed me where I currently was: gagged with a pair of panties and taped to a chair in the office of my unbelievably hot Chemistry professor, trying madly not to come while she loomed over me and f****d me silly with the mindless and impassioned abandon of someone who’d been waiting all her life to experience such exquisite fulfillment.

Somehow I was right back to where I’d started. And still the insane assault escalated. I began to fear that it was a lost cause. Soon there would be no preventing the humiliating felony. But at last Dr. Teasel gave one ultimate succession of hyperactive pelvic thrusts, one last series of barely contained ecstatic cries, and then finally collapsed against me. She leaned shaking on me for several minutes, while she regained her breath and haughty self-possession. Then without a word she stood up, slipped off me, and moved back around her desk to drop wearily into her chair.

Leaving me sitting there bound and gagged with my juice-slathered p***s sticking ridiculously up, she ignored me completely while she lit a cigarette, opened the top two buttons of her blouse and began fanning herself with a blue book. For ten minutes then she smoked and cooled herself down, alternately disregarding me and eying me with a cold, clinical speculation. At last she spoke.

“That was satisfactory, boy. I just enjoyed my first ever orgasms at the hands of a man. Or should I say: at the c**k of a naïve little boy. I know you’re eighteen boy, legally and laughably a man, but you’re still just a child to me, and probably always will be. And I’m impressed that you managed to obey me, and not ejaculate. Or perhaps I’m a little insulted. Whatever: it doesn’t hurt my ego any. I know damn well you find me incredibly attractive. All men do. In any case, I know for sure now that you are the perfect candidate for what I’ve had in mind for quite some time. By hell, you and I are going to have the longest, most interesting and fulfilling affair ever!”

Stubbing out her cigarette then (“I’ve really got to quit these,” she muttered to herself) my professor reached into her purse and withdrew a small vial and attached spoon. To my astonishment she proceeded to sniff up several big hits of what was clearly cocaine. Then she stowed the vial, came back around to me and straddled me again.

“Okay, boy,” she breathed. “Let’s try that ride a second time. I’ve waited far too long for this to be content with just a quick half-hour’s fuck.”

I’d been drooping down a bit, but Dr. Teasel put that right with just a few professional pumps of her tightly gripping fist. Then once again I was inserted into a heretofore unprecedented heaven.

This time she lost no time at all in plunging me in to the hilt. Nor was there any of her previous experimentation. Immediately my tall, beautiful teacher resumed the technique that had served her so well before: socketing herself tightly to my crotch and pumping violently back and forth like an out-of-control metronome.

This time I managed to hold out through her first two orgasms. But after that there was really no contest.

No longer a stunned and uncomprehending virgin, I was suddenly a quite discerning connoisseur: reveling in every slippery silken stroke and marveling at the new responsiveness of my harder-than-ever organ. Even worse, my teacher’s gaping blouse now had me staring straight into milky-white skin and the most exquisitely symmetrical cleavage ever: a more tantalizing, titillating spectacle than the most brazen pornography. Barely ten minutes after she resumed riding me, I finally lost all control.