Sixty-Second Sexcapade: School Daze

I’ve been partying my ass off from the first night my parents dropped me off at Statesboro College which is a small liberal arts college of my choosing. As a general education class, all Freshmen must take a cross-curriculum perspective course in order to fulfill one of the requirements for a bachelor’s degree. For almost a week, I’ve gotten up with a hangover and by the time it came to register for classes, I checked Intro to Civics instead of Civic Responsibility; my moment of absentmindedness, landed me in a classroom full of misfits and frat house rejects.  A minute or so, after I realized I was in the wrong class, I made tracks for the door.  I was just about out, when I bumped into a Senior who is built like a linebacker, and whom I had not seen at any of the parties; he apologized for what was obviously my mistake and as I watched him enter the room, I was awestruck. 

Dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt with and a black leather jacket, the dark haired stranger walked to the podium, apologized to the class for being tardy, and then he introduced himself: Dr. Christopher Morrison.  I returned to my seat.  It’s official: I have decided to change my major to Political Science.  I swear I could fuck Dr. Morrison for the hour and 17 minutes he is supposed to teach, twice a week for the 16-week semester.

God how I wish I had an hour alone with him –shit I’d take 20 minutes, as sexy as he is.  After he dismisses class, I would be one of the first to leave, and as the room emptied I return pretending to have forgotten to ask him a question about the lecture.  As we make our way back to the podium, I drop my pen and bend over –all the way over to pick it up. The mini-skirt I’m wearing is short, revealing panties with a sheer back bottom.

I feel his hands rub against the thin mesh before I stand and walk to the podium.  He is close behind me.  Chris’ arms are strong and he turns me to face him then lifts me on top of the stand.  He leans in to kiss me; and his kiss is like his touch -rough, but I enjoy it. He reaches up my skirt and tears off my panties.  Chris spreads my legs before him and inserting his forefinger into my vagina, starts to finger fuck me.

I unbutton my sweater and unhook my bra.  Chris uses his free hand to touch my breasts –squeezing and pinching each in turn before he bites down on the nipple pulling it taut between his teeth.  He removes his finger, replacing it with the thrusting movements of his tongue.  I run my hands through his hair as his tongue licks and sucks the mounds of flesh. The five o’clock shadow that has started three hours early arouses me beyond words, and I cum, pouring every drop into his mouth.

Chris lifts me from the pedestal and turns me over so that my breasts are pressed up along the wooden incline surface.  As my legs hang off the back, he separates them, forcing each to hang over the sides.   I feel as though I am about to slide off the podium when I feel Chris' cock –the head is so far under me that it rests near my pubic bone.

He tilts it upward, pulling it back toward him –through my outer labia, inner labia eventually plugging the entrance to my hole before shoving it in.  Chris rubs his hands across my back, over my shoulders and to the leading edge of the stand and grips it tight.  He withdraws and starts to fuck me –every stroke is full penetration and he is giving my pussy a work out. 

Chris leans against my back and is hitting it deeper and harder.  My clit rubs the smooth polished wood and I can’t get enough of him –burrowing his yard stick into my pussy.  He picks up the pace and the podium is rocking against the tiled floor.  He cums and continues to fuck me until I bathe his cock in my juice.