After Class 3

I often finger myself during his class. And I always sit in the first row. As he lectures about psychology, I take notes with one hand and massage my clitoris with the other. He turns me on just that much.

I've never had feelings for my professors. Then again, a lot of them have been women; I'm going into high-school English education. At first my feelings scared me. I just hope they don't scare him.

35-year-old Reginald A. Mannem, PhD., was not only smart, but sexy as all Hell. He was Indian (as in from India). I've always preferred men with dark complexions and even darker hair and eyes. And he always wore a suit; a suit and tie makes ANY man sexier.

"Freud had many theories on sex. Everything from sexual repression to sex drive. His eyes me mine and he smiled. "He developed the concept of the libido, the sex drive."

By now, I had already hiked up my skirt. The flimsy, silky, black material sat around my hips. My fingers pushed aside my black lace thong and I fingered myself with my left hand. Soon, I was biting my lip to keep from screaming with orgasm. I caught my breath as the waves of pleasure subsided.

"I want you to get in your groups. April's handing out the activity." April is the teaching assistant for our lecture.

I turned around to face the other members of my group. Anna, Shawn, Ruby and I started the activity "Freud Today." We had only answered the first question when someone tapped me on my shoulder.

"Helene?" I turned around. Professor Mannem stood behind me. "I need to speak with you. Come to my office after class." He walked away.

Ruby, my best friend, smiled and nudged me. She giggled, "Someone's in trouble!"

Anna and Shawn nodded. Anna added, "What if you failed the last test and he wants to talk to you about that?"

I just smiled. "You're all a bunch of pessimists."

I could hardly wait until after class. The rest of the lecture seemed to pass so slowly. But I couldn't tear my eyes off of him. Our eyes met so many times and every time they met, he smiled at me. I had a feeling that I knew what he wanted and it had nothing to do with any test.

When he finally finished, I took my time packing up my things. I didn't want to seem over-eager and beat him to his own office. I stopped in the lady's room to fix my hair and make-up. While I was there, I adjusted my garters and thigh-high nylons.

I climbed the flight of stairs to the third floor, where his office was. I took a few deep breaths and knocked on his door. He replied, "Come in."

I opened the door slowly. He had taken off his black suit coat and was seated at his desk, writing furiously.

"Ah, Miss Christianson. I'm glad to see that you came. Please, close the door behind you," he smiled as he stood up from behind his desk.

I closed the door and stood there almost frozen. "Relax. Take a seat. Don't worry; it's nothing bad. You're not failing or anything."

He sat on the front edge of his desk and I sat in front of him in a chair. "I've noticed you in class lately. Now, tell me. Do you find psychology so amazing that it's orgasmic? Or is it something else?"

BUSTED! I looked at the floor, not knowing what to say. After a dead silence, he cupped my face in his hands and tilted my chin upwards. "You're a very intelligent woman, but I don't think that it's the intellectually stimulating lectures that turn you on."

Our eyes met. I couldn't hide it any longer. "You turn my on so much. I want you so badly." I couldn't believe that I said it. My face must have given it away.

"Just so you know," he whispered in my ear, "I've never had feelings like this before for a student. You're special."

"I've never had feelings like this for a professor."

With that he kissed me.

It was so tender, so soft, so mature. He was so much more adult than any other man I've ever been with and it was ecstacy. There was none of the youthful hastiness or unskilled brashness. Just him loving me the way I deserved–and needed–to be loved.

Keeping our lips together, we stood up. I undid his tie; it fell to the floor. He began unbuttoning my black velour shirt as I unbuttoned his white dress shirt. When his shirt was off, I massaged my hands into his back and neck. His hands caressed my abdomen, shoulders and breasts, still hiding in my black lace bra.

Eventually, my hands made their way down to his waist. Slowly, almost as if I was afraid to break it, I unbuckled his belt. Then, just as gingerly, I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. They fell around his ankles, and, maintaining our now very passionate lip-lock, he stepped out of them and slid his shoes and socks off. He stood before me in only a pair of red silk boxers.

He traced his index finger down my spine until he reached the zipper on the back of my skirt. He placed one hand on the small of my back while he unzipped my skirt. It slid down my long legs, exposing my matching black lace thong and garters.

We stood there, both in our undergarments, holding and kissing each other. He broke the kiss that seemed to last forever. His soft, full lips caressed my neck and shoulders. I moaned lightly, in complete awe of his soft touch and gentleness. While his lips explored my smooth skin, his fingers unhooked my bra and I shrugged it off.

His lips and hands moved directly to the pink nipple that stood hard upon my ample breasts. He teased and pleased me as my fluids dripped down my legs.

My moans grew louder until he placed his hand over my mouth. "Shh . . . I have neighbors." Then his lips replaced his hand.

"Helene, my dear?"

"Yes, Professor Mannem?"

"Please, please, call me Reggie," he kissed me. "May I make love with you?"

"Of course. I want you to," I giggled at the notion of him asking first. He was such a gentleman.

He lifted me onto the desk and pulled my thong off. When I sat on the desk, I was at the perfect height; our crotches lined up perfectly. He took off his boxers.

Slowly, gently and sensually he entered me. There was no rush; the world would wait for us. It was so slow that every movement he made was amplified a million times. I gasped and bit my lip. It felt so good. I wanted him inside me forever.

Eventually, he picked up the speed, but it was not what I would deem "fast and furious." His slow grind brought me closer and closer to the edge as I gripped his desk.

"Now," he moaned. Before I could even think, he shot his load into me. The feeling of his cum inside me brought me to climax. I gasped for breath as the most intense orgasm of my life rocked my body. I laid there on his desk, completely spent.

"That was. . .the best. . . best sex. . .of my. . .life," I panted.

Reggie helped me to my feet. He licked my earlobe and breathed, "Me, too."

We dressed silently, both of us basking in the afterglow of the fantastic sex. I knew that I had to see him again, but I didn't know what to say. I didn't have to.

"May I take you to dinner this Friday?" he asked just as I reached for the door.

"I was afraid you wouldn't ask," I responded as I turned around. He gave me his phone number and I gave him mine. "Call me."

"I will, my dearest Helene."

I closed the door behind me. Friday seemed so far away.