When she arrived, the door to the office was slightly ajar, so she gently knocked. Immediately, an answer followed in the familiar low voice, "Come in." As she lightly pushed on the door, she could feel the butterflies already. Her professor was seated behind his desk, turned sideways towards his computer on a smaller space against the wall. Turning, he smiled, "Oh, hi. You're right on time. Close the door and come have a seat," motioning to the chair across the desk from him. "I'll only be one more moment," he said as he turned back and continued writing what appeared to be an email.
She walked to the chair and set her stuff down as she inched the chair a bit closer to the desk. She had carefully chosen her outfit, a pink tanktop with a lacy bra underneath -- all thin enough that the outline of her young, puffy nipples could easily be seen. She paired that with a black, pleated skirt, the kind you see on tv shows that goth schoolgirls always wear. It was short, but not lingerie short -- perfect for what she wanted. She wanted him to see just enough to want it. And to, hopefully, show him that she wanted it, too. And she really wanted it. As she sat down on the chair, she could already feel the faintest warmth in her pussy -- probably the slightest little wet spot beginning to form. As she waited for him, she slightly shifted her crossed legs causing just the right amount of friction to periodically radiate miniature waves of pleasure throughout her body. She was just teasing herself.
"Alright, sorry about that," he said as he turned to look at her. He wasn't teaching that day, so he was wearing a t-shirt with an unbuttoned short sleeved oxford shirt and some shorts.
"I really like that shirt. What are those, little cacti on them?"
Looking down, "Oh yea," he said with a slight chuckle. "I don't know. I just bought a bunch of these when they were on sale. I don't really pay much attention to my clothes."
"Well, it looks really nice on you. The fit is really flattering."
"Yea? It's funny actually. When I was younger, I was skinny and couldn't gain muscle to save my life. But as I started getting older, it finally hit. I never thought I'd ever look like I do now. I mean, I'm not muscular, but I'm not the bean pole I used to be."
"Dad bods are really popular right now. I actually prefer them. I think you look great." She could immediately feel her face flush as she looked down at her feet. She could feel her stomach drop, waiting what felt like forever for a response from him. Looking back up, she met his eyes, and he was looking straight at her with a knowing, sly grin.
"That's very sweet of you. Anyway, I'm glad you agreed to come in today. I'd like to talk about your paper. As you know, I gave it a perfect score because it was REALLY good -- the best in the class by a wide margin - and I think with a few improvements, you could present it at the annual Undergraduate Philosophy Seminar and win. You really captured the heart of Dworkin's criticism of conflict theory of liberty and equality. Honestly, I can't say that I've ever seen an undergraduate write so well and fully grasp this material as you have."
She could feel herself beaming. And the way he was smiling made her melt.
"I've marked a couple things on your paper I'd like to discuss with you and help clarify some things that would add some depth. I know you won't have any problem with this at all." With that he opened up the paper on his desk to the second page. "This desk is really too big though. Come around to this side so I can show you," he said standing while motioning for her to walk around to where he is.
Somewhat surprised, she set her notebook down and awkwardly stood up. She could immediately feel the butterflies bouncing around. As she walked around the desk, she sheepishly stood off to the side, not sure where he wanted her to be.
"Here," he said as he placed his hand on her lower back and pulled her closer to the desk beside him. With that he stood close and slightly leaned over the desk, looking at the paper. She could feel his warmth as his body brushed by her arm. She could smell his cologne -- like spices and oranges. But mostly, she could feel the tense building pressure around her clit and lips, begging for a touch. This was the closest she'd been to him -- a situation she'd masturbated to so many times before. As it was playing out, it was sending her body back to those fantasies and it was responding accordingly.
For the next few minutes, he pointed out a few things in the paper, all excellent points to help her improve, all the while praising her work and her attentiveness to detail. A few times, he gently placed his hand on her back and her shoulder, drawing her closer both times, making her feel each time like she might burst in anticipation for something more.
