The Voice Professor

This is my first Literotica submission and any comments or feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance!

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It was the September of my junior year of college. I was mostly looking forward to it, but I was feeling a bit apprehensive since my voice professor, Dr. Logan, had retired the previous spring. As a mezzo-soprano vocal major, I knew how important the relationship between a musician and her main private instructor was, and I was really hoping I'd get along with this new professor and learn as much as I could from him.

Silly as it may sound, I was a bundle of nerves before my first lesson with him. "What if he doesn't like me? What if I can't stand him? What if I realize we can never work together and I have to transfer schools?" I spilled to my roommate that morning.

"Anita, calm down," Holly said. "You're being totally irrational. Why wouldn't the two of you be able to work together?"

"I don't know." I sighed and turned towards her. "How do I look? Do you think I should have dressed a little nicer? Is my hair okay? I want to make a good first impression."

"Anita, please!" Holly started laughing. "You'll be perfectly fine. Now go before you're late."

I chose to have one more quick look in our mirror before heading out the door. I had pulled back my dark blonde hair into a high ponytail and wore little makeup. For my clothes, I had opted just to wear a purple button-down shirt and a nice pair of jeans. My large D-cup breasts strained a bit against the fabric and buttons of the shirt, but I didn't think it was terribly noticeable and I really didn't have much else to wear. I tucked one stray strand of hair back behind my ear and set off for my lesson.

It was a short walk to the music building, and in a few minutes, I found myself standing in front of Dr. Logan's former office. "Michael Robbins" I read off the nameplate. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"It's open!" came a voice from inside.

I opened the door and stepped inside. Dr. Robbins was working on his computer at his desk on the opposite side of the office, his back towards me. He seemed to be tall, though it was difficult to tell for sure since he was sitting down, had greying hair, and was of medium build. From the hair, I judged him to be in his late forties/early fifties.

"Dr. Robbins? I'm Anita Hennessy, I scheduled my first lesson for this morning." I closed the door behind me and walked towards him.

"Ah yes, Anita, I've been expecting you." He stood up and turned around and I found myself looking into the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen on anyone. They were deep-set and a dark, wonderful grey, and I found myself staring.

"It's nice to meet you, I was just looking at the notes Dr. Logan left for me about you." His voice snapped me out of my little trance and I noticed he was extending his hand to me.

"Oh, nothing but good things, I hope." I smiled as I shook his hand. It was smooth and warm and much to my dismay, I felt a small shiver run through me.

God, Anita, get a hold of yourself

, I thought.

He's your professor, you barely know the guy, you...

"Of course, I wouldn't expect anything but good things from one of Dr. Logan's students," he laughed, bringing me back to reality once again. "Please, sit down," he said, gesturing to a chair beside his desk.

The rest of the lesson was fairly uneventful, though I'm sure my cheeks were a bright, flaming red for the whole hour. We talked about what I wanted to accomplish this semester, what pieces we should work on, and some of my plans for the future. I told him about my dream of being an opera star, and he smiled.

"Opera? Most vocal students I've seen have been interested in either musical theater or teaching," he told me.

"I suppose I could always have teaching to fall back upon, but I've always loved opera. To me, it's just the most beautiful art form there is."

His smile grew even wider. He had a great smile, too (of course). "I think we're going to get along just fine this semester." He stood up and walked over to the piano in the corner. "Let's sing a little before you have to leave."

We spent the last ten minutes doing some simple warm-ups, him playing, and me singing. "Well, Anita, from what I've heard so far, you really have a lovely voice. One of the best I've heard in years."

I felt myself blush even more. "Thank you," I managed to squeak out. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what this man was doing to me or how he was doing it. He assigned me a piece to work on for the following week and I left his office.

"So? How'd it go?" Holly asked me as soon as I returned to our apartment.

"Fine, I guess," I said, not really wanting to go into detail. I plopped down on the couch next to her and tried to concentrate on whatever drivel she had on the TV.

"Just 'fine'? After all the fuss this morning?" She rolled her eyes at me. "Come on, really, how was it? What's he like?"

"He's nice. Very nice. We talked about plans for this semester, he seems to be competent. Everything should be just fine."

"See, I told you that you were worrying for nothing." She turned towards me and I guess she noticed that my cheeks were still quite a bit flushed. "Anita," she said, with a knowing grin, "Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're telling me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said as I tried to focus on the television.

"Oh, don't pull that with me, you're one of my best friends, it's

obvious

that you're lying." I tried to ignore her. "So, he's a real hottie, is he?"

I had to snicker at her use of the word "hottie". "Holly, he's probably old enough to be my father. Men that age aren't 'hotties'."

"You know what I meant."

"Well, I found him to be an attractive man, but I don't know if my opinion's the popular one," I admitted.

"Fair enough. But I don't think that's all, there has to be something more, I haven't seen your face that red in quite a long time."

I figured, what the hell, and decided to confide in her. "I don't know what it was, just something about him..."

"Got you all hot and bothered?" She winked at me.

"Holly!"

She laughed. "Well?"

"Well...yeah, I guess. I mean, I know it's so wrong, But there was definitely something there. Or there was on my end, anyway."

"Good, it's about time you realized that there are other men in the world besides Dan Alexander. I think this is good for you."

I wrinkled my nose. Dan was my first really serious relationship and we had broken up [rather badly] at the end of last semester. Holly was right, I hadn't really paid much attention to men since then. "Please, spare me your psychoanalytical bullshit.

Nothing

is going to happen with this."

She shrugged. "Whatever you say. But I still think a little fling would be a good thing."

"A little fling?" Sometimes I couldn't believe Holly. "Holly, I am

not

going to fuck one of my professors."

"Why not? You wouldn't be the first."

"Because he's my professor and I'm not going to be the class slut?"

"Well, technically, you don't have a class with him..."

"Holly, you really need to stop talking, like,

right now

."

"As you wish. I have to go take a shower anyway." She stood up and tossed me the TV remote. "You really need to be less uptight about sex. Just because Dan was lousy in bed doesn't mean the rest of the male population is."

"Holly!" I shouted yet again, but my only response was the slamming of the bathroom door. I shook my head and started mindlessly flipping through the channels on the TV. As hard as I tried, though, I couldn't get Dr. Robbins or Holly's words out of my head. However, I still firmly believed that the relationship between teachers and students should remain strictly professional.

The weeks passed quickly enough. My lessons with Dr. Robbins were the highlight of my week. Not only was he an incredibly gifted teacher, but he was an all-around great guy as well. Since I had the last lesson time of the day and had no classes afterwards, I often found myself staying late just to talk with him in his office. From time to time, I would find myself captivated by his beautiful eyes and every accidental touch would still send chills all over my body. I was determined, though, to not think about that too much.

I found myself dressing up a bit more for my lessons as well. I told myself (and Holly) that I was merely trying to look professional, but I think we both knew what was going on in my subconscious. One day in mid-October, the weather was unseasonably warm, so I decided to take advantage of it while it lasted.

"Wow, Anita, what's the occasion?" Holly asked me as I stepped out of my bedroom. I was wearing a black miniskirt with black high-heeled sandals, which made my legs look longer (always a plus when you're only about 5'3"). I had selected a light pink halter top that was just a little too tight. Okay, it was

really

tight. It was also a bit low-cut, making my ample breasts look like they were going to spill out of it any second. Though I was a bit nervous since I usually choose not to show a lot of skin, I have to admit, I was pleased during my final mirror-check.

"No special occasion," I said. "I'm just happy that it's so nice out."

She grinned at me, but only said, "You look great."

I couldn't help but be a little excited by all the male stares I got on my way to the music building. Since the halter top was so tight, I had decided not to wear a bra, resulting in a bit of a "jiggle" as I walked.

When you got it, flaunt it

, I thought to myself and shrugged as I knocked on Dr. Robbins' door.

"It's open!" came the familiar, friendly voice, as always. I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. Dr. Robbins looked up from his notes and for a fleeting moment, I saw a look of surprise pass through those deep grey eyes. He continued to stare at me until I decided to break the tension by walking over and sitting down in the chair next to him.

"I wanted to work with you on your vibrato today," he finally said.

I wrinkled my nose a bit. Vibrato was really the only musical technique I'd been having a bit of difficulty with, and though I knew it was important, I got frustrated far too easily whenever I tried to develop it more.

"I can hear the beginnings of it in your voice and I can tell you have an excellent foundation, but I really think it needs to be stronger, less subtle."

"Okay, sounds like a plan," I said. He stood up and walked over to the piano and I followed. He played an A on the keyboard and said, "I'm going to sing this pitch and slowly start adding pulsations. I want you to put your hand on my abdomen and feel what my muscles do to produce what you hear in my voice."

My heart started beating faster. I had done this exercise several times with Dr. Logan in the past and thought nothing of it, but of course now it was completely different. Not to mention that Dr. Robbins didn't always sing with me in my lessons and I found it a special treat to listen to his voice.

He took my hand and I immediately felt the familiar tingling sensation that appeared whenever we touched start spreading throughout my body. He placed my hand on his stomach and upon feeling his hard muscles, I felt the little black thong I was wearing start to grow damp.

God, how am I going to get through this?

I thought.

He started singing and I felt his muscles start pulsing faster and faster. Needless to say, this did not put the cleanest of thoughts into my head. He stopped singing and played another A, an octave higher, and said, "Your turn."

I felt myself begin to tremble as he put his hand on my abdomen, the warmth of it going right through my thin shirt. Again, I had done this with Dr. Logan before, but naturally, he had never had this effect on me. I tried my hardest to not think about it and started singing.

"Anita, don't forget about your posture." He smiled. "You can't neglect one thing when thinking so hard about the other."

Damn, I really wish he hadn't used the word "hard"

, I thought. He pointed to the full-length mirror that hung on the back of his door and we turned to face it.

As I had expected, my cheeks were the color of strawberries as he moved behind me and put one hand on my back. As he went to put the other hand on my stomach, his thumb gently brushed against the underside of my swollen breasts. I had no idea if it was an accident or intentional, but my breath caught in the back of my throat and I'm sure he heard it.

My eyes locked with the reflection of his in the mirror and it seemed as if we stood there that way for an eternity. I saw my eyes, bright green and completely revealing my true feelings about what had just happened, a considerable contrast to the dark grey of his eyes, always mysterious. I looked closer and thought I saw something in his eyes that I'd never noticed before - something deep, something burning, something passionate. I took a deep breath and stepped backwards so our bodies were pressed right up against each other. As soon as I felt his erection pressing into my lower back, I knew I had made the right decision.

Without ever taking his eyes off of mine in the mirror, he slid his other hand from my back to just underneath the first one, right at the top of my skirt. Still staring at me, he moved his hand up and rubbed his thumb over one of my nipples, which were now obviously protruding through the flimsy fabric of my shirt. I felt his other hand move underneath the waist of my skirt and gently start tracing my skin along the top of my thong, which was soaking wet by this point. I leaned back further against him and choked back a small moan.

As his eyes were still intently focused on the reflection of mine, his right hand slowly moved up to the neckline of my shirt, reached inside, and gently lifted one of my heavy breasts until it popped out of the top. With only the slightest hint of a small smile on his face, he watched my reaction as he tenderly rolled the hard nipple between two of his fingers.

I reached behind me until I felt his rigid cock and started caressing it lightly through his pants. Finally, his cool, composed facade broke down and he closed his eyes as he dropped his head so his mouth was right next to my ear.

"God, Anita, you are so amazing," he whispered as his left hand dropped even lower. My only response was a soft whimper. "Do you have any idea how long I've dreamed about you, about doing this?" He pulled my earlobe into his mouth and started sucking on it.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I turned around and looked up at him, and he met my lips with his own. I swiftly ran my tongue between his lips and his mouth opened to let me inside. I ran my hands up along his chest, trying to memorize every muscle, as he teased my tongue with his.

With excruciating difficulty, I stepped back from him. He looked a bit concerned, as if he were afraid he had just made a colossal mistake, but before he could say anything, I smiled up at him and started tugging his shirt out of his pants until it was completely untucked. "Don't you think you'd be more comfortable without this?" I teased.

He returned the smile and, in one fluid motion, pulled the shirt off over his head. I took in the wonderful sight of his bare chest, broad and well-defined, with a sprinkling of curly, salt-and-pepper hair. I was about to run my fingers through it, but he stopped me. "Now Anita," he said. "I don't really think this is fair." He walked to the door and pushed the button in to lock it.

I reached behind me to undo the halter top, but he shook his head. I dropped my hands to my sides and he came back to me. Putting his hands on my bare shoulders, he turned me around so I was facing the mirror again. "I want to watch you," he whispered directly into my ear.

Again, he focused all his attention on my reflection as he reached up and tugged on the strings of my shirt. They came undone with little effort and he reached in front of me and pulled my shirt up and off. My full breasts, now proudly unrestrained, bounced a bit as the shirt was removed. "Beautiful," he murmured to me.

I closed my eyes and leaned back against him as he began massaging my breasts while simultaneously nibbling on my ear. When I felt his left hand leave my skin, I opened my eyes again to watch him in the mirror. I saw his hand go back to tracing just inside the top of my skirt, but this time, his hand went behind me, between us. I felt him expertly undo the clasp of the skirt and heard the zipper being slowly pulled down. He took his other hand off my chest and pushed the skirt down off my rounded hips. As it hit the floor, I stepped out of it and nudged it to the side.

There I stood in my professor's office, wearing nothing but a pair of sandals and a sopping wet black thong. Normally, I would have felt extremely self-conscious, but the look in Dr. Robbins' eyes showed me I had nothing to worry about. I was enjoying watching him enjoy me, and I was more aroused than I had ever been in my life.

I watched the mirror as his right hand softly traced a line from my stomach up between my breasts and up to my face. Without ever taking his eyes off of mine in the reflection, he tilted my head to the side and started sucking and biting at the delicate skin of my neck. With the other hand, he traveled down until he could feel my dripping thong and pushed it aside to reveal my neatly-trimmed bush. "A natural blonde, I see," he whispered against my neck as he slipped two fingers into the damp folds.

This time I didn't even try to hide my groan as he teased me, running his fingers everywhere except where I wanted them to go. I made eye contact with him in the mirror, grabbed his wrist, and simply mouthed the word, "Please." He smiled at me and slid his middle finger inside of me.

Feeling him inside me was enough to make my knees go weak. I thought I was going to fall over, but he had me firmly supported, pulling me to him. His thumb found my clit and it was all I could do not to scream out loud. My body started trembling and I knew I was about to cum, when he suddenly drew his hand away from me.

My eyes flew open and I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say anything, he put a finger to my lips. He reached behind me and closed the piano and before I knew what was going on, he scooped me up into his arms, letting my sandals fall, and sat me on the piano, facing him. He sat on the bench and dragged it closer to me, placing my legs on either side of him. Smiling up at me, that beautiful confident smile I had grown to love, he gently pulled my swollen pussy lips apart and leaned forward.

If I thought his fingers were amazing, his tongue was absolutely divine. I leaned back, bracing myself on the top of the piano, and bit back another scream. As his tongue circled around my clit, he slipped his fingers back inside me, and it was enough to send me over the edge.

My whole body convulsed and as I fell forward, he caught me and held me to him. The entire room was spinning and I clutched him, feeling my sweaty breasts press against his chest. I closed my eyes and buried my face in his neck.

I don't know how long we sat there like that, me straddling him on the piano bench, but eventually, I pulled back from him slightly so I could look at him. "You are incredible," I whispered.

He simply smiled back at me. I slid off him to sit next to him on the bench. Looking down, I noticed that my juices had left a stain on his pants, right over his noticeable erection. I cringed a bit, but I ran my fingers along the spot. He tensed.

I moved off the piano bench and knelt between his legs. Now it was my turn to smile up at him as I undid his belt buckle. I pulled it out of the loops and tossed it to the side before starting on the button and zipper. I tugged on both his pants and his boxer shorts and he raised himself off the bench enough for me to pull them down to his ankles. After pulling them completely off of him, I looked up and gasped.