*Author's note: This article was written in the first person of the person who the article is about. She had requested it that way.
I had fallen behind on my school work. It was tough being an adult going back to college, balancing work, family and friends was a lot, and I just got a bit behind... especially in my creative writing class.
"I know you can do better work," said Dr. Cristiano, a 40-something redhead with shapely curves, long red hair, and a face that could easily pass for someone 20 years younger. Handing me a card with a name and number on it, my professor had a tutor in mind for her. "This is Prof. Dover. He's a... friend... of mine. And I know he can help get your grades up."
I had never used a tutor before. Well, not in the traditional sense. I had used my "charms" to help raise my grades with some teachers before, but this time, it looked like real book work would be needed. I called Dover, who had a wealth of experience in creative writing, and discussed his terms. His rates were reasonable, and he offered to work out a plan if I was having trouble paying. We set up a meeting the next afternoon at the library.
When he walked in, I was a little stunned. I knew he was older - about 50 - but I didn't expect such a youthful 50: dark eyes and slightly tanned skin, trim - but not skinny - and carried what I figured was about 190 muscular pounds well on his nearly 6 foot frame. When he reached out his hand to shake, I sensed not just experience in creative writing but creativity in other areas I wanted to explore.
Over the next hour, he meticulously went over my previous writing assignments, pointing out the flaws and giving me plenty of pointers to sharpen my writing. Dr. Cristiano had given plenty of feedback as well, but it hadn't clicked with me, and I foundered to a D+ on one of my assignments.
"You see here," he said, pointing out one of my phrases Dr. Cristiano circled in red. "This is a place where you could have used more imaginative storytelling to get your point across."
But imagination was not a problem at the moment. As I leaned close into him to look at the paper, I could smell just a slight whiff of cologne. Not sure of the brand, but it felt warm and welcoming, and I drank it in thirstily. I imagined how it would feel to kiss his lips, breathing in his aroma, and losing myself to his touch. I felt a tingle in my crotch, and I wondered if he felt the same about me. And then, back to reality, as he said our time was up. I reached into my purse to pay him, but he quickly waived it off.
"This first lesson is for free," he said smiling. "Try what we worked on today, and if it doesn't work, you won't have to come back. If it does, we can work out a payment later."
Being on a tight budget, I thanked him for the kind offer and pledged to make my writing better and return for more paid sessions. But how could I NOT return? This older man, someone who I probably wouldn't have considered before, had turned me on more quickly than anyone else. As I walked home, I imagined how it would feel to have him touch every part of my body... how it would feel to surrender to whatever desire we both had (and I hoped he had desire for me as much as I did for him).
Later that night, after doing some homework, I fell asleep on the couch in front of the TV. As I dreamt, Professor Fred Dover walked into my dreams, undressing me without ever touching me. I dreamt of his lips kissing my neck, nibbling on my ear lobes, and making their way down my bare chest to my hardening nipples. I gasped as he drew in my little rosebuds at the ends of my breasts, rolling his tongue around them and making them grow long and hard for his sucking. I dreamt of how he worked his way down and started licking my clit, while his fingers probed into my sopping wet pussy. I nearly climaxed, when I woke with a start... stunned and a little disoriented.
But I didn't want the dream to end. So I reached down between my legs and felt my clit and wet pussy and began to finger myself, Pushing first just one, and then two fingers inside, I thought about the dream of his fingers inside me, while my thumb acted as a poor - but available - substitute for his tongue on my clit. It didn't take long, as I soon climaxed on my own hand, thrusting in and out as my pussy spasmed against my own fingers. It was an orgasm I hadn't expected but knew I wanted from the first moment I saw him.
The week seemed to drag as I anticipated my next meeting with the professor. But this time, armed with a creative writing paper with many fewer red marks (and a hard B- for the grade), this time, I bounced into his office at the local community college, where he seemed to have most of the building to himself. I beamed with pride as I showed him the paper, and he smiled.
"Much better, Lexie," he said, and I smiled back at him. "You're making good progress, and I see where you applied what we discussed. Good for you. Now, here's how we make the next paper better."
He then spent the next hour showing me writing techniques and tricks I could use on my next assignment, and I listened enthralled by his advice and secretly fantasizing (again) about his body. At the end of the hour, he said he needed to get to his next class. I quickly pulled out the money we had agreed upon, and I layed it into his hands, letting my fingers linger just a little bit as I touched his hand. He smiled and thanked me, and I turned to walk out, hoping he would notice the cute shorts I had worn just for him that day. I wasn't sure (and I didn't want to seem obvious and look back), but in my mind, he admired my ass as I bounded out the door.
I could feel my pussy tingle again, and I quickly ran into the nearest bathroom, jumping into the nearest stall and pulling my shorts and panties down. My cunt was on fire as I reached down to touch myself. Closing my eyes, I once again imagined it was Professor Dover's fingers down there, and I furiously rubbed my clit and pussy lips until I quickly came against my hand. I had only known him for as week, and already Professor Fred Dover was becoming a sexual obsession for me.
The next week's assignment went even better, as I had earned an "A" (an "A"!!!!!) on my latest paper. I couldn't wait to show Professor Dover... and I couldn't wait to show him more of me. I wore a short skirt with lace panties underneath so if I got the chance to bend over in front of him (say, "accidently" dropping a pencil), he'd get a chance to see. And my top was low cut and opened deliciously as I leaned forward during my frequent leans over him and my paper, hoping he'd sneak a peek at my cute cleavage underneath. I couldn't say for sure, but I could have sworn I saw him look, although he was good at averting any gaze before I could see it for sure.
After spending another delightful hour with him, thinking about all the things I wanted him to do to me, I raced home to release some of the sexual tension that had built inside me. Running into my room, I grabbed the vibrating dildo from inside my nightstand. As it buzzed to life, I pulled my skirt up and pushed the lace panties aside, as I hoped the professor would do one day. I spread my legs wide and applied the buzzing tip to my clit and panted as I thought how his tongue would feel there. I moaned as I pushed the head of the fake cock inside me, imagining it was his dick spreading my wet pussy lips apart... it was him pumping in and out of me.
