You feel a bit giddy with the new undercurrent of sexual chemistry you feel with some of the coeds and are happy to get out of your last class.
"Jon! Hi!"
You almost literally bump into Dr. Sandra Seymour, professor of astronomy. You've known her for years but have somehow never gotten close. She's a pretty and well-curved petite woman in her early 40s, her eyeglasses masking her best looks, her once proudly brunette hair now a clearly fake blonde that still somehow complements her.
"Sandy, hi!"
She flutters her hand to convey a dither. "Can you believe it? I left my reading for tonight back in my classroom. Can we talk?"
"Sure." You follow her in. "What about?"
"I'm telling everyone I know -- it's official. It's been six months today. The separation is done. No more Mrs. Hayes. I'm a free woman!"
"Congratulations! Not that anyone ever knew you as Mrs. Hayes ... "
"But that was what I knew myself as." She gathers her evening reading from out of her desk. "Anyway, I'd like to throw a party soon."
"Let me know when and I'll be there."
She studies you. "Jon? Are you and Ingrid ... still ... "
"Yes, we're still on the outs." You realize you're in no hurry to divulge the best news about you and Ingrid, because the fact is that in the back of your mind you alwasy wondered if Sandy was an option. Not as glamorous as Ingrid, but perhaps better suited by personality and shared interests, she has held a secret romantic interest for you.
"You know, Jon, you're such a great guy, you deserve sombody."
"So do you, Sandy."
You look at each other a long time, and then she steps up to you.
"Jon? You can be honest. Do you find me attractive?"
"Always. I've always been attracted to you, from the very start."
Somehow you can read a hunger in her body and a sparkle in her eye. She seems to cry out for, and deserve, reassurance. You kiss her, in what you hope is a chaste and perfunctory way, but her body leans into yours, and befor you know it you're pulling her to you, your hands all over her, the kiss full of steaminess and mutual tongue. You boldly unbutton her, and she seems more relieved than anything. Soon she reciprocates by unbuckling and unzipping you. You lean back agaisnt the desk a bit awkwardly and allow her to ride atop you.
The quickness and strangeness of this intimidates you on a deep level, enough to restrain you from ejaculating, which works out fine for Sandy as she proceeds to ride you urgently through one climax on towards the next. The incident becomes a run-together blur of Sandy's orgasms -- until you notice that two students have somehow snuck in and are openly checking you out. You recognize the one girl from a class of yours, a snooty-seeming blonde beauty named Courtney, but the other girl is new to you, black-haired and nowhere near as glamorous, though you can't help but feel like a hell for niticing the simply massive outthrust wedge of bosom bulging within her modest high-necked sweater. Courtney puts a finger to her lips in a silent "Shhh!" and the two stealthfully back out of the room. All in all, you decide to mention none of this to Sandy.
"I need to feel you cum inside me, Jon, do it, cum inside me!" Sandy whispers.
Somehow that command -- more a request -- made so earnestly wrecks your remaining inhibitions. The trigger is tripped, and you pulse into her.
You feel a bit sheepish as you striaghted yourself back up. "Actually ... Ingrid and I seem to be getting back together lately. My daughter had a birthday party, and she sort of tricked both of us ... she really wants us back together ... "
Sandy smiles. "Jon, don't worry. This just -- happened. I know this didn't mean anything ... though I still hope you'll make it to the party."
By the time you reach your car, you let out a deep sigh and wonder: do you really feel up for Mrs. Hearst tonight? |