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I was walking to my last class of the day. It was breezy and perfect outside. I entered the classroom and was suddenly quite excited. Poetry has long been one of my favorite subjects, and Professor Cormac is exceptionally brilliant. Today, we were discussing Poe.
“The thing often forgotten about Poe is that his work was written with a clear intent to be read aloud. Consider, for example, ‘The Bells’. It is one of his better-known pieces, but what many people don’t realize is that not only is each stanza is meant to elicit a different emotion, but Poe selects words that force your face to take on the expression the emotion evokes, for example…” Professor Cormac had a clear passion for his subject, and he walked around while gesturing with his hands. They were nice hands too, I noted. He was wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches today. It sat well on his broad, strong shoulders. He had a collared, white shirt under it as well. At 36, he took good care of himself, and one could tell he had a muscular build from the way he carried his body. He had short, black hair and a slight beard that were both peppered with white. His eyes were emerald, and had a dizzying intensity when he spoke about his subject. I pressed my legs together and tried to focus once more.
“So what I want to do,” he resumed, “because this is everyone’s least favorite thing, of course, is to take turns and read a stanza out loud. Everyone look at that person´s expressions as they do.”
I skimmed ahead to the section that would be mine and rehearsed silently in my head, as all of us did when assigned to read something aloud (though we´d never admit it). When it was my turn I cleared my throat and began, “Hear the loud alarum bells, Brazen bells…” I was already self-conscious, and now I was all too acutely aware of my classmates staring at my mouth’s movements. I glanced up briefly and saw Professor Cormac. He seemed tense as he leaned on his desk, his fierce eyes locked on my lips, as he bit his lower one. My heart rate rose as I glanced back down to my reading. My cheeks felt hot. Focus, I thought.
At the end of class, Professor Cormac announced, “Remember, I still need to meet with some of you regarding a topic for your mid-semester papers. Danielle,” he said, and my breath hitched, “and Joseph, today I meet with you two, I believe. Class dismissed.”
I waited for everyone to leave and tried to calm down. Why was I so nervous? I´d been in this class a couple of months now. Professor Cormac beckoned for me to enter his office, and I followed.
“So,” He said, sitting and propping his legs on his desk, “what have you selected for your paper?” I cleared my throat and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Well, I was thinking about taking the poem ‘Howl’ and applying it to the current political climate. Analyzing how well the message has held up to the frustrations of our time.” I explained.
“Well, what are the frustrations of our time? çankaya escort bayan ” He had a deep voice.
“Politically charged tension for one; that one’s obvious. Also, I think many would argue that the U.S. is rather prudish in its sensibilities. You can show violence on television while nudity and sex are harshly censored. I believe the need to hide the natural body has not changed. Homosexuality is becoming less taboo, but sexuality is still, I would argue, leashed.”
“It´s an interesting perspective. Do you have your computer with you? There’s an article you may want to use for reference.” I nodded and pulled my laptop out. Professor Cormac stood and walked around so he was standing behind me. I was anxiously aware of his proximity. He reached his hands out on either side of me and typed into the browser. The sleeves of his shirt were pulled up, and I could see his toned arms flex slightly as he typed. I’ve always had a thing for forearms, and he wasn’t helping. I pressed my thighs together again.
“There,” He said, snapping my attention back to the screen. The article was pulled up. He was still behind me and leaned over my body.
“You smell nice, Danielle.” He half-whispered before straightening up. His hands pulled away from the computer. His right hand went to my left shoulder, before giving it a firm, second long squeeze. He pulled it away slowly, as he walked away, and I could feel the fringe tingles from it in my toes. He walked back to his desk and I exhaled a long breath as he sat back down.
“Thank you,” I managed.
“You´re welcome. But one thing: the idea that censorship is gratuitous is hardly a new one on a liberal arts campus. You need a unique angle to this. Come back here in a week and let me know what that is.”
I gathered my things and clumsily exited his office. My face was completely flushed, and I more than a little aroused. I went back to my room, took off my jeans, and sat on my bed before plopping my head down on the pillow. I pulled the covers up to my waist and replayed being in his office, the scent of cedarwood and sage, his eyes that honed in like hounds, and his sexy, rumbling voice. I started to slide my hand into my panties, slowly.
I imagined him kissing me on the couch in his office, laying me down slowly. I reached my mound and began to stroke it. His mouth was at my breast, his hair by my nose. He smelled of smoky cedarwood like his office. He pulled my legs apart and my underwear off, leaving the dress on. I stroked harder and harder, as his emerald eyes bore into mine. I was getting close now, thinking of his erect penis reaching for my opening. Yes, I thought, take me right here and now. Suddenly my door opened and my roommate Abigail came in. I pulled my hand out and tried to sit innocently.
“Hiya,” Abigail greeted. I exhaled with relief. She hadn’t noticed, thank god. I slept fitfully that night, my dreams haunted with thoughts of the Professor.
***
One ankara rus escort week later, I awaited my second meeting with Professor Cormac. My mouth was dry, and all the moisture had transferred to my palms. I´d tried to look more presentable that morning, but I wasn’t sure I´d accomplished much. I had taken a long, hard look in the mirror. At 19, I was finally free from puberty’s awkwardness, but was not yet fully in command of my womanly body. My breasts were finally c-cups, though I didn’t much show them off. I have long, straight black hair that was usually braided for class. My eyes are gray, and I didn’t accentuate them with much but mascara most days. However, I let my hair down, applied a thin strip of eyeliner, and put a rosy color on my lips. I picked out my favorite class-appropriate summer dress, which closed in at my waist and made my breasts look particularly full.
But now that I was sitting in class the confidence was long worn off. I licked my lips, tasting lipstick and salt. Was I really trying to look good for my professor? To what end? He probably had his pick of women, judging from his appearance. Was an inexperienced 19-year-old going to make him swoon?
The moment had arrived. I set my stuff down and waited for the Professor to finish brewing coffee. He offered me some and I gladly accepted.
“Talk to me,” He said.
I started to speak, but suddenly we both heard a commotion outside. I went to stand at his window, Professor Cormac close behind me. A group of students were raising one of those incredibly large kites in the quad. It was in the shape of an octopus. I laughed.
Suddenly, I was aware of the professor’s breath on my neck. He was so close his thighs were touching my back. Suddenly, hot air was at my right ear. We watched the kite ascend.
“Leaping higher higher, higher, With a desperate desire,” He whispered into my ear, quoting my Poe stanza. His erection was poking into my back as his right hand trailed a line from my wrist up my bare arm.
“Professor. Umm, what are you doing?” I asked, breathing heavily.
“Waiting to hear about your paper.” He mumbled, his mouth still at my neck. He swept my hair away and kissed the space behind my ears.
“I meant, uhh, this,” I spoke, trying to get my brain to function.
“Ahh, you mean me touching you.” I nodded. He resumed, “See, I thought this part was obvious. You’re nervous as hell around me, you stare at me all day in class, and you did get all ready for me today. Am I wrong?” He asked, his hands were now tracing from my armpits down to my hips. He moved agonizingly slowly, and I couldn’t stop myself from dipping my head back and closing my eyes.
“Answer me, Danielle,” He demanded, as his hands reached where my dress ended, and the territory changed to bare skin. His palms spread when he reached my knees and he squeezed the bottoms of my thighs.
“You´re ankara etlik escort not wrong,” I sighed. His mouth kissed my exposed neck, and this made me tingle between my legs. He kissed down to my shoulder, and once he reached it, his right hand came up to pull the strap down and expose my skin. Then he bit down. I was certain I was dripping. His left hand came up and reached under the fabric to grab my right breast. His hands were as firm and strong as I’d always envisioned.
“You can´t.” I moaned weakly, “What if, what if someone comes in?”
“I locked the door as soon as you came in. I thought we might want some privacy. Do you want me to stop?” He asked, as he pulled at my pointed nipple. I moaned loudly at this and shook my head no. He continued to squeeze my tit, pinching my nipple occasionally and making my knees knock.
“You can do better than that,” He growled, as his left hand pulled up my thigh and between my legs. He reached the edge of my panties and started massaging me through the fabric. “You´ve soaked them, naughty girl. Beg me to continue, I said.” His voice was menacing and he pinched my nipple hard at this.
“Please, please use me. Touch me. Ravage me,” I gasped. His finger pushed aside the satin of my underwear and he found my clit. The sensation was so powerful I lost all other awareness. Gone was his office, and all the objects therein. I wasn’t sure if I was standing or sitting. All I knew was his hand pressing at my need, his beard tickling my upper back, his large erection pressing against me, and his breath heating my skin. I reached my right arm back to pull his face into mine, and kissed his lips. He tasted marvelous. I licked at his lips as he massaged my sex. Then his finger wandered to my opening. His mouth covered mine and kissed me forcefully. His tongue pushed into me and felt around my mouth. I could kiss him forever. His finger began to push into me, in and out slowly, stopping to swivel around, before resuming.
“You´re wet, my little pet,” He whispered as his pace started to increase. My whole body was reacting. I arched my back and he tightened his right arm across my chest to keep me still. I was moaning without check. He kept increasing his speed, and I was trembling.
“Don´t come yet,” He warned. It was difficult not to. His fingers played me expertly as he started kissing my ear. I got chills that began at my earlobes and traversed my spine. Goosebumps scattered along my body. Then he withdrew and re-entered me with two fingers. He slipped in and out mercilessly. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I came, and all my limbs seemed to stop working. He was supporting me as he held me to me. I might have fallen without. Blood rushed back to my brain and when I opened my eyes everything seemed brighter and more saturated than I remembered. Professor Cormac withdrew his hands, and pulled my dress strap back up.
He sat down at his armchair and said, “I told you not to come,” his eyes narrowing at me. “Come back in two days for your punishment. Same time.” He commanded.
“Yes, I will.” I answered, wondering why I was agreeing so easily.
“Yes, what?” He asked pointedly.
“Yes, master.” I responded.
“See you soon, pet.”
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