He still couldn't believe that he, Professor James Curry, had finally bedded Miranda Ames.
He had noticed the sweet, shy Miranda the first day of class. Sweet, innocent-looking, quiet and unassuming, little Miranda. She always wore her blonde hair, which was fairly long, in an unassuming ponytail. She wore cute, round glasses. She rarely spoke in class and when she did, she was soft and delicate. Far from the class brain, she struggled, valiantly, in his English Lit class to comprehend the mysteries of language. But there was something about this 19-year old that got his attention from the very first time he saw her.
Miranda had taken to staying afterwards, engaging him in quiet conversation, asking questions and wanting to learn. Her inquisitive nature made him smile and he made time for her whenever she needed it. James had suggested coffee and it had become an almost daily routine. She would pick his brain, question after question flowing from her soft, red lips. The coffees grew longer and James enjoyed them more with each passing day.
The coffees began to run longer and longer. One night, the coffee turned into dinner. One of the nicest James had ever experienced, she was a delightful companion and with her hair down and contacts in, he saw how truly beautiful a creature she was. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman this lovely and James enjoyed every second of it.
The inevitable happened. Quiet, shy Miranda had a few drinks too many and James took her home. "You're nice,!" she purred tipsily, kissing him. " I liked you from the first time I went to your class, did you notice me?" she cooed to him, still swaying slightly.
James nodded, not trusting himself, but it was much too late. Erotic fervor overcame him and he kissed her back, softly at first. Then, their tongues met. She tasted of garlic and honey and she had the softest lips he had ever kissed. He became lost in the beautiful teenager, her body pressed close to his, soft and seductive in the tight, navy-blue dress she'd worn tonight.
Their passion grew swiftly. "Can I have another kiss?" she asked James, and he granted her request, this time their lips pressed harder together, this time his mind awhirl with thoughts. This was wrong, she was a student, he was so much older -- none of it mattered. Miranda was all that mattered, taking her to bed was all that mattered.
She led him to his bedroom on unsteady feet and kicked off her heels. James undressed her, kissing the soft rosebuds of her breasts, working his way down her flat stomach. Despite the frumpy clothes and sweats she often favored, Miranda was truly beautiful. The blue lace bra and panties she's worn that evening were gone in a flash, to reveal her in all her naked glory.
She was blonde, sweet, ideal perfection, a whisp of curls covered her sweet snatch. He leaned in to kiss the precious treasure, his lips against her vulva, exploring her softness and hearing her little mewls of pleasure.
"Please eat my pussy!" Miranda begged him. "I bet you're real good at it and I love to have my pussy kissed!"
