Seducing Professor With Her Words

[*Dear Reader! If you find this story interesting or exciting, please feel free to email or send your own recording. I'm always interested in hearing from readers. ]

I am a professor at a public university in California. I've had some adventures with students in the past, and I want to share one of them with you.

One evening, after a day of classes and lecturing, I got home, cracked open a beer, turned on some music, and sat at my desk. I fired up my laptop and scrolled through dozens of dull work emails. But I paused when I saw an unusual one.

This was an anonymous email from a random Gmail address--just a combination of numbers and letters. The subject line stated simply, "For Professor. I'm hoping you'll be interested."

She had attached an audio file to the email. The file was entitled simply, "Recording 1."

The sender wrote that she was a female student in one of my classes. She would not say what her name was, or which of my courses she was taking that semester.

I opened up the email. The first line was, "Dear Professor: I am very nervous to send the attaching recording to you, but I've gotten up the courage to email it with the help of a couple of glasses of wine. I hope that you'll listen to it whenever you want to. It was incredibly fun to make. Please let me know if you've listened to it, Sir, and what you think of it. That would be so exciting."

She confessed that she was "turned on" by me, by my style in class, by my "strong shoulders and arms," my sense of humor, my "presence" and my knowledge. Taken together, she found these exciting in a man and especially in a professor."I am very shy around attractive men, especially authority figures like you."

The email signed off with, "I hope you enjoy this recording. I think you will. I loved making it for you. Let me know if you'd like more. I'd like that. And yes, I take requests! LOL "

"Well," I thought, "this is new and different."

It's interesting how students develop crushes on their professors. And not just crushes, but sometimes passionate attachments. Their authority feeds into fantasies, which can build over the course of the semester. This was one of those incredible students.

I was used to getting the occasional flirty, hand written note from a female student, suggesting that we meet for a drink to talk about the class, or even an invitation to drop by her apartment for dinner and a conversation about her paper. Sometimes these are innocent enough; sometimes--not so innocent. But I had never received a recording like this.

I still didn't know if this was a joke, or some kind of prank.

So I clicked on the attachment. Sure enough, I heard a woman's voice. A woman who sounded kind of shy, and a bit turned on.

The student said, "Hello Professor. I'm sorry if I sound nervous, but I am! It's Tuesday night and I'm alone in my dorm room. If you are actually listening to this, that would be so amazing. Wow, I hope you are... Please listen to me share some things with you on this little recording. I think you'll enjoy it."

She said that she was a little buzzed from the wine she'd been drinking to get up some courage. She said that for a couple of weeks she'd wanted to speak directly to me and to record her voice as she lay in her bed. Tonight, she said, she'd finally follow up on the idea.

She said that she would never tell me who she was and that I would never guess, because in class she was pretty quiet and seemed quite normal. She was a regular student who did her work, answered a question in class every now and again, but was unassuming. She wrote that she wasn't even sure if she would hit "Send" on the email once she'd finished.

But she did hit Send. And now I'm telling you about this amazing recording.

I was getting excited myself. It was such an attractive voice, already breathing just a little bit heavy. She sounded tentative at first, but her nerves were gradually calmed by the wine, and salved by the erotic thoughts running through her mind.

She didn't quite know what to say at first. She stammered, laughing at her own inarticulateness. After some hesitation, some hemming and hawing, the student went on to confide that she sometimes thought of me at night, when she was lying in bed. She gradually confessed that, when she was in bed stripped down to her panties and a t-shirt, she let her mind--and her hands--roam.

She said that she would close her eyes and imagine that she was talking to me, in her room. She said that she would turn herself on, in this unusual way, by talking to me out loud, pretending I was there with her, in the privacy of her room. She would tell me, out loud, things--fantasies, desires-- that she found exciting.

It was this act of actually verbalizing her erotic thoughts, telling me what exactly it was that she wanted from me, to do with and to me, that made her most aroused.

She had come to love this taboo act of speaking openly and out loud to her Professor about her feelings. She would talk to me in ways that she could never say to anyone else.

She said that if I ever asked her if she was the author of this email that she would play dumb and deny it, "So don't ask." She said that she would never, ever get together with me for real, she would never meet me, or talk in person about this with me. She insisted that she was not hoping to sleep with me. She was purely trying to maximize her excitement as she masturbated. She was living out a fantasy by expressing it aloud to the object of her affections.

I could hear in her voice that was getting excited, and the words began to come more freely. "Good girls don't have these feelings, do they, Professor? Good girls don't touch themselves in bed imagining their Professor was there watching them, do they, Sir? Good girls don't speak aloud to their teachers as they run their hands over their bodies, do they?"

"So maybe I'm a bad girl," she laughed. "Wow, I can't believe I'm sharing this with you, touching my boobs under my tee shirt while I talk to you..." She moaned a little. "It must be the wine..."

This form of communication, of sharing her erotic fantasies, was her way of playing when she had no boyfriend and was too busy with work and school to date. "In my fantasy, you are my strong and dominant lover, the one I'll do anything for."

For her, this was the most exciting way that she could get turned on. She said that she had an incredibly vivid imagination and that method of engaging with her naughty thoughts--with a professor she was attracted to--was mind bending for her.

She told me, "It's so simple, Professor. Imagine you could tell women who you find sexy exactly what you want to do with them, everything you want to experience with them. You can say it to them, but anonymously. You know that they will listen, they will hear you, and you think and hope that they will be excited. Imagine that you can tell them your all your dirty daydreams, all the sexiest, naughtiest things that come to your mind, your deepest, darkest fantasies. You can tell them what you want to do to them, and what you want them to do to you."

"Just imagine that co-worker or neighbor or friend that you think is hot--go ahead, think of her right now. Think of her face, her body, what you want to do with her. I mean really want to do. Imagine that you can tell her how badly you want her, and every dirty thing you'd like to do. And you know she'll listen. And maybe she'll even respond to you, just like I hope you will respond to me, Professor."

I really liked this idea, I had to admit to myself. No, I loved this idea. Her voice was getting strained as she became more aroused. Her breath came a little faster.

This was a very different type of student, with a very different type of mind. She obviously loved to please. She also understood me well, just from observing me in class. She knew that I would love this.

She said that she suspected that a strong and handsome teacher like myself probably had a lot of girls who came on to him, and that I was the kind of guy that girls got crushes on. A lot of my students, she said, thought about me when they were trying to fall asleep at night. "Actually, I'm in bed right now," she said, "and I'm thinking of you, and I'm a little buzzed, and I'm a little horny." She giggled. "But I get to talk to you tonight, and those other girls don't."

Man was I really getting turned on by this.

What you're going to read about in this story, is how a student recorded a dirty little message to her teacher while she was a little buzzed and a little turned on. This woman had a very creative and intelligent mind, which I found to be a huge turn on; an instinctive understanding of what I liked and enjoyed, and what would excite me; a willingness to do whatever it was that she thought I wanted. She also had a great way with words, the ability to speak directly and with passion, to describe her own feelings and desires and sensations.

She said that she was sliding one finger across, then circling around her clit. She moaned a bit. She was looking at sexy pictures and gifs on the internet, looking at pictures that depicted things she would like to do with me. She gave little moans, but said nothing. Finally, she began to find her voice. Was it the wine taking effect? Was she just getting hornier? Was she giving herself permission to say what was on her mind? The reason didn't matter to me. All that mattered were the descriptive words that began coming out of her mouth.

She described the pictures she was looking at. She described a picture of a man bending a woman over a chair and entering her. "Office sex is my biggest fantasy," she said slowly, sexily, in her sexy voice. Actually, I said out loud, it's one of my fantasies too. I thought of her bent over my office desk, skirt hiked up over her waist.

"I don't know if you can hear how wet I'm getting, just looking at these first few pictures," she chuckled. Then she moved her phone (which she was recording her monologue on) and held it so I could better hear the squishy rhythm of her fingers moving in and out and around herself. I loved that she was so turned on and yet, she said, she was just beginning. What would I get to hear tonight? Was she turned on enough that her inhibitions were gone? I wanted to hear more. What would my student do next to turn me on?

I found out soon enough. "I taste good," she said, and I could hear her licking her fingers. Damn, that was so hot. Ive always loved when a girl tasted herself. And liked it. She spent a generous amount of time licking her fingers, making sure I could hear her, that I could picture her pulling those damp fingers from inside herself and bringing them to her mouth.

Breathing a little more heavily, she went to describing the next picture she was looking at: "Professor, I'm looking at a pic of a girl whose mouth is taking her man into her mouth." She was getting more turned on. Her voice was more like a loud whisper at this point. "Her lips are so tightly pressed around him." She gasped and paused. "Honestly, I wish you were here, sir. I want to do exactly this to you right now. I know you'd love the feel of my lips on your head, wouldn't you?

Then she said something very exciting: "I'm taking out my toy, Professor. Do you like it when a girl uses her toy on herself? Do you like to see that? Do you at least like to hear it?" She chuckled. "Maybe tonight is your lucky night."

"Let me see if I can do to this toy what I want to do to you," she giggled. Wow, please do, I thought. The idea of my student playing with toy, imagining it was me, was so hot. And that's exactly what she did. "Mmmmm," she half moaned. Then I heard a little slurping sound, as if she was kissing it, licking it lightly. I could hear the excitement rise in her voice. "Doing this is making me so sensitive all over. God, the reaction in my body..." she whispered. My nipples are getting so hard... I'm touching them, and I can feel it right in my clit," she moaned, in between the sounds of her licking and noisily suckling the toy.

"Sir," she groaned, "I have you in my mouth. Do you like it? You're sliding across my tongue, so slowly.... I like to start slowly, Professor, when I'm .... tasting my man." She was getting more excited by the minute. "Sir, I 'm running a finger through my lips...mmm...across my clit, and you in my mouth. Is this how it would feel doing 69 with you? Your tongue all over me, and you in my mouth, pushing a little deeper with each thrust?"

"I love it, Professor. I could do this all day for you. I can taste myself on my toy. Oh how I love the way I taste on you."

She pumped it into her mouth, moaning and squealing loudly. The smacking sounds of her toy in her mouth sounded so sexy.

In between episodes of gagging, she asked me: "Professor Jim, is this what you hear when your girlfriend goes down on you? I wonder... does she take you this deep, Sir?" "I wonder what you would taste like, Professor. I want to find out so badly, Sir. Please let me find out, Sir." She was almost whimpering now. "How it would fit between my lips? How it would slide across my tongue? How it would fit when I take it... straight... down... my throat?

I want to see the expression on your face. Mmmm."

"Professor," she panted, "It's ok. I know you want to push into my mouth a little deeper. It's okay... Go ahead, sir." Then she began to push her in and out of her mouth, faster. The sounds were incredible. The slurping, sucking sounds, so noisy and wet.

She moaned, clearly excited by the idea. And then she did something so sexy, so dirty. She began to gag herself on her toy. Gasping just a little, she muttered, almost to herself, "Please use my face, Professor. Please push it down my throat, I need it.... I'm your slut. Use me, Sir!" Then she gagged herself some more. She urged me on... but really she was urging herself on, getting more excited, slowly losing all her inhibitions. It was so incredibly hot, this student, in her bed, imagining herself choking on me. I could practically hear her drooling on her toy. I could picture her eyes watering, her smudged mascara trickling down under her eyes, streaking down her cheeks.

She returned her toy back to her wetness. I could hear it sliding in and out. It was just so, so very hot. "I love this toy inside me. You know what I'd love even more than this toy? Your hand inside me, your fist all the way in. I know that's such a perverted fantasy, but right now.... Ahhh."

She said she was now looking at a picture of two girls and a guy on her phone.

"Have you ever been with two girls, Professor? My old boyfriend was. He loved it."

"I'm looking at a picture he took of himself in bed, playing with two nude girls. I know both of them, they go to this university. They lived in my dorm last year. I want to do to you what they're doing to him--I want to ride and lick you. They're so pretty. He was so lucky. I wish I had been there"

"I want to ride you, to glide up and down, while one of these pretty girl licks your shaft. I want to make you crazy with pleasure, like I am now. I want her to kiss and slap my ass while I ride you. Then she'll lick my flavor from your balls as I ride you. She's such a bad, bad girl, just like me."

She started raising her voice, letting her most secret thoughts out. It was so amazing. "Call me your slut, Professor! Say it out loud, right now, while you sit there with your hard on listening to your devoted student whore! Tell me I'm your dirty little whore! Join me in sharing your perverted little secrets, Sir, please!"

I was so into it that of course I started talking out loud.... "You're my whore, baby," I muttered to myself in my office at home. "You're the Professor's little student slut. I own you, sexy. Don't stop talking. Don't stop playing and talking to me, baby." I was starting to shake. Her excitement was so infectious. I was starting to feel light headed.

She continued: "Can we please, please do everything I'm talking about, Professor? Everything I'm dreaming about out loud on this recording? Please let me ride you. I know five girls right now who would join us for a chance to be with you, a chance to gobble you down after you've just been inside me, even if you're completely covered with my wetness.

"Oh yea, I want to watch the other girls in our class take turns tonguing you. Britney, and Laura, and Simone, and Theresa, and that girl who sits in front row right in front of your podium, with the low cut tops.... They'd all let you use their mouths and everything else. We've talked about you, joked about what it would be like to sleep with the Prof. And you should see the expressions on their faces when we talk about it. It's no joke, Sir"

She was losing her head now. "Sir, I'm going to come, sir. Thinking about riding you like a crazy woman while my friend licks your balls and even slides her tongue down the crack of my ass to lick your shaft. Oh yea, Professor!"

"How does that feel? A tongue on your balls while you are all up inside me. Sir, I'm so ready. I haven't had sex in three months. I'm completely ready for you. Take me any way you want! Use me like I cheated in your class. Use me to teach me a lesson!"

"Can my friend please lick you all over while I sit on your handsome face and you just eat me? Just eat me while I grind on you. Please, sir. I can see it in her eyes, she wants to make you crazy, while I grind myself on your lips and tongue, so hard. We can come together, me on your face and you in her mouth...."

Again, she moved the phone so I could hear the sloshing noises as she pounded her toy inside, faster and faster. Every fantasy she could think of poured out of her mouth, in between gasps and moans.

She was so excited that she was speaking barely louder than a whisper. "Oh, Professor, I'm so close! Grope my chest and pull on my nipples, please. You can slap them if you want. Eat me while she licks you! I need a three-way so bad, it's so exciting with all those rough hands and hungry mouths on my body. I want to look down and see you between my thighs, your tongue swirling round and your fingers inside me, while my friend kneels behind you, kissing and playing with you from behind."

She let out a moan, a wail of pleasure. "I've seen how you look at the girls when they walk into class. I know you want them. And I know you want to have me, professor, I just know it." She was having trouble talking now. Her moaning and panting made it harder to hear her. "I want to make you want me, Sir. Do you want me now, Professor? Do you?"

"You have no idea," I thought to myself, trying to maintain some kind of control.

With those words, her voice reached a desperate crescendo. It sounded so sexy, as if she were getting ready to cry, letting out all that pent up emotion and feeling and extraordinary pleasure. I almost came myself just from her question, "Do you want me now?" "Yes!" I shouted, or maybe I whispered it, I don't remember. I was in some kind of trance from excitement. The sensation I was feeling was amazing, otherworldly. This woman had put me into an altered state of consciousness.

After a moment of silence, she gave a scream of pleasure and release, from the deepness of her body and soul. And then a long moan, loud and then quieter, until all I could hear was her breathing. Such beautiful sounds of satisfaction and release. She must have looked so sexy at that moment. I listened to her panting, slowly catching her breath.

I wondered if she'd fallen asleep after that earthquake of an orgasm. But suddenly she spoke, breathlessly.

"I hope you're pleased with me, sir. I hope that you're happy with this recording, Professor. It is so exciting right now, for me to be nude and so wet in bed for you. It is so amazing to make this for you, to talk to you with my legs open, my skin still covered in goosebumps. God I hope you're still listening to this. Did you listen to this all the way through, all the way to now? If you did, you heard all my fantasies, all my desires. That's crazy......"