I am writing this as a warning to young college professors who may be tempted to succumb to the temptations that female students create. I failed my family, my profession, and myself. This is my story.
I graduated with my Ph. D. in history from a prestigious university at age 29; one of the youngest Ph. Ds ever graduated from the university in a non-science field. There were many job offers and I accepted one at a state university that offered me the most money and greatest chance for promotion.
Within three years I had published my first book-cannibalizing my Ph. D. dissertation, and four articles, three of which represented new research, the fourth was a sort of abstract of the main points of my dissertation. I was a workaholic.
I had married my college sweetheart and by the time I was thirty-five had three children, all beautiful daughters. My wife was an attractive woman who preferred to stay home and mother our girls rather than work, using the degree she had earned in Special Education.
While I had made a reputation for myself academically the money I had expected did not materialize. The state was short of funds and was cutting all budgets. This did not set well with my wife, who reminded me almost daily that I should have taken a job at a private university.
I taught a massive introduction to social science course via television; 2500 students in all. This was a major enterprise, which required me to tape lectures, incorporate a variety of visual materials, and in every way possible make the course interesting to my students.
Unfortunately I was competing with commercial television with its fifteen-minute segments, professional actors, and sexy plot lines and lots of tits and ass. The end result was that my wife had become a shrew and many of my students found my class boring.
The one consolation was that I was also teaching a graduate level class in my chosen field of history; the Civil War. This was a small class, never exceeding six students. Because of the small size I had them meet with me once a week in my home.
We had bought a house when we moved to the city in which the university was located and discovered only after we closed the deal that the low price was because the house was in a transition zone-meaning people of color were buying into the neighborhood which cause white flight.
We were mortgaged to the hilt but had a lovely home. My large study accommodated my students and I delighted in meeting with them on a weekly basis. My wife, on the other hand, disliked the situation and made no secret of her unhappiness. What pissed her off especially was that I served tea and cookies during the class.
You get the picture? A complaining wife who gave me no rest, a back breaking teaching load, little chance for big money in the near term, a house we could not sell because of the bigotry that existed. I was in the perfect position to destroy myself.
It all came to a head one fall semester. A female student kept calling me toward the end of the semester, keeping me on the line with silly questions. My wife accused me of having an affair with the student.
She would scream at me when the phone rang; "Why is this bitch calling you at home? Don't you see enough of her at school or wherever it is that you fuck her?"
It was impossible. Our sex life went to zero because she said I was getting plenty from a certain co-ed. Life was pure hell with my wife. I tried to placate her by getting her a used car and letting her have Saturday off while I took care of the children and this helped some, but she was still the screaming bitch she had become.
I was going out of my mind and should have recognized the signs but then I would not be writing this. It began when the female student who had been calling me made an appointment to talk with me about her grade.
My cock was hard the second Shelia, Shelia Logan was her name, came in the door. She smiled at me, her small, sexy tongue licking along her soft full lips. Posing a moment at the door, I heard her push the lock into place.
I had not been this excited sexually since my honeymoon. The sight of this young girl, her skirt so short I could almost see her panties, a blouse cut so low I could see almost to her nipples, and the sensuous way she walked, no minced, to the seat by the side of my desk almost had me hyperventilating.
She crossed her legs very slowly when she sat down and her panties, that tiny little band that barely covered her pussy lips, was in full view. I licked my lips as I stared at her crotch, imagining the soft, warm pussy behind this bit of nylon.
She leaned forward as she began to speak and I was now looking down her blouse. I had to swallow the drool that almost escaped my mouth at the sight of the softly rounded curve of her beautiful teen breasts. I had to ask her to repeat her question. My hands were shaking when I found her name in my printout to check on her grade.
She pleaded with me to help her improve her grade. I explained to her the techniques I knew would help but knew we were going to improve her grade by something other than her studying.
When she put her hand on my thigh and leaned forward, her thighs open, I knew it was all over. I could see that she was stimulated; her panties were glistening from her precum and her nipples stood out against the thin cloth of her blouse like ripe strawberries, hard and pointed and ready.
Her boldness startled me. It was as if she knew I was unable to resist her. I just sat thee dumbly as she caressed my thigh, sliding her hand upward until she was rubbing my hard cock through my pants. Of course I could have stopped her.
I'm six feet and weigh 180 pounds and it is mostly muscle. I was on the swim team in high school and college and sweim every day even today. It is one way to get my wife's voice out of my head
But I did not stop her. I sat there watching as if I was seeing a film in slow motion; as if it was happening to someone else and I was just an observer. Her hand pressing on my hard cock belied this, but this was the image in my mind. It was happening to me and there was nothing I could do about it.
She smiled broadly as her hand stroked my hardon, her tongue moistening her sexy mouth. Still smiling, she stood and removed her panties. In one swift motion she had my pants unzipped and my throbbing cock out and in her warm hand. Straddling me she ran the head of my cock over her wet slit and then her hot, grasping, moist, tight, God how tight, pussy was wrapped around my cock.
