I am—or at least I was—a good and simple man.
I am a professor at a university in Virginia. My specialty is American literature. I love teaching and reading and watching movies with my fiancée. My life, otherwise, is, by most people's standards, very uneventful.
The story I am about to tell you is true. It is the story of shameful physical passion. It is the story of a woman who has destroyed me, my job, and my life. My downfall was one female student, who tempted me to sin and who brought me into a world of infernal, unchecked lust.
Amanda is a student in my Monday night seminar, which is held in the music building. She is a devil, and I hate her for her temptations. The first time I saw her, that first day of class, she was wearing a low-cut blouse. She was wearing a smile and blue eyes. She was wearing goose bumps on her chest. She was wearing an expression that said to me: "I want to bring you into my den of iniquity. I want to corrupt you. And we'll both love it."
How could have I have read that expression on her face? I am a mild mannered man, 34 years old. A hard-working man who is faithful to my fiancée, Suzanne, who has been my sweetheart since we both joined the band in tenth grade. I am faithful to her and her body, her hefty, overweight, physically unattractive body.
At least I used to be faithful.
Amanda tempted me. There is no other way to put it: Amanda was sent to me by a dark force from deep under the earth.
After the first class of the semester, after everyone had left, Amanda approached me in the classroom and asked me a stunning question.
She looked me in the eyes and said, "Professor, I found your lecture fascinating. And I find you very handsome. Would you like to get a drink?"
These were her first words to me.
Scoundrel! Temptress! Blue-eyed devil! I should have refused. I should have walked—no, run!—from that classroom. But the debauched quarter of my soul bound my feet to the ground.
A demon inside me urged me—No, forced me! — to chuckle and say "Well, I suppose. Sure!"
We chatted, walking toward the local watering hole. I couldn't believe what I was doing. What would Suzanne say? My sweet, good-hearted, solid, morally solid and incredibly dull fiancée, Suzanne?
I asked her what she enjoyed doing. Amanda told me brightly: "Oh, I love needlepoint, shopping, hanging out with friends, watching 'Glee, sucking the teacher's cock, and cooking."
Oh, the scourge of my existence! Who was this vile creature from the darkest reaches of Hell?
At that moment I should have publicly denounced her! Screamed from the top of my lungs for her to be struck dead by a lightning bolt from the heavens!
Instead, I grabbed her hand, stopped walking, and turned around in a flash. I headed toward my office at all due speed. I practically pulled her, practically dragged her to the site of the foul acts awaiting me on the horizon, my cramped office on Lawrence Green in the Literature Department. Room 312, to be exact.
What would my fiancée say? What would she do? How would I tell her that I had brought a beautiful young woman to my office after class?
Amanda just laughed, squeezed my hand, and said,
"What's your hurry, Professor? Never had your cock sucked by a student before?" She looked me right in the eyes and laughed, as we scampered ever more quickly to my office.
She even took my hand and placed it on her rear end, telling me to squeeze it, even forcing me to rub her firm ass through her skimpy denim skirt.
"How does that feel, Professor?" she laughed.
When we reached my office, I was in such a state that I practically pushed her through the door. She was still laughing, but she immediately got on her knees and lifted up her skirt. She looked at me and slid her pink thong down to her thighs.
Her hand lingered between her legs. I must have looked shocked. "It's OK, Professor; I like to touch myself while I taste my man."
Evil child of the darkness! She spoke not to me, but to the darkest corner of my foul nature.
She watched me as she unzipped my pants. This was all moving so....so very fast.
Amanda licked her full red lips. "Professor, you have to know that I will enjoy this very much. I can see you are afraid, but you don't have to be. I won't tell anyone!" she said in her sweetest voice.
She looked up at me and squeezed her breasts, pulling on her nipples hard through her t-shirt.
She giggled again. Was she taunting me? "Don't be afraid, Professor, this won't hurt!"
Her hands sent shivers up and down my body. She squeezed my shaft through my khakis. I had betrayed myself. I was swollen like the River Jordan after a hard rain. I had never felt anything like this.