Busty Student Gets a Hot Lecture

I remember walking into his office for the first time, determined to show this highly reputed English Literature tutor that I didn't need his help. My pushy father may have thought he could make me attend extra classes to get my degree but I was eighteen, an adult, so I didn't have to co-operate. Funny now when you think how things ended up.

This tutor was an older man in a smart suit, maybe early fifities, he shook my hand and told me, "Please call me Andrew." He had a buzzing energy about him that immediately melted my resentment. His was tall and broad but fit like a Rugby player, very short greying brown hair and soft twinkling brown eyes that I thought maybe flitted briefly over my breasts as he gestured with his large hands for me to sit down. He had a wide smile and confidence poured through his body language and voice, making me instantly at ease. "Can I get you a cup of tea?" he asked brightly and bounded over to the kettle in the corner to make my tea. As he chatted about his office, apologising for its state, I let my gaze pull away from him to take in the crowded bookshelves, sprawling plants interspersed with framed photos of an older woman and two different girls a little younger than me who I assumed to be his wife and daughters. A minature Rugby ball perched on the window sill.

I cradled the steaming mug he had passed to me and he sat opposite me, leaned forward and smiled kindly, "So tell me all about yourself, the books and poetry you're passionate about."

I found myself opening up like a flower in the sunshine, telling him things I hadn't really told anyone because no-one had bothered asking my thoughts and feelings. He made me feel so relaxed and at ease and seemed to drink in everything I said with genuine interest. I found myself feeling a surge of disappointment when our time was over and realised I hadn't felt this good about myself in a long time. As he showed me out, his hand briefly touched my arm, I met his gaze and felt a jolt of electricity in my chest that I quickly repressed.

As the weeks went past, I found myself counting the days til our weekly lesson. He was so much more entertaining than my college lecturers, he brought the books and poems alive and it was inpossible not to feel the same enthusiam he felt for them. He was like a drug I craved daily.

I don't know when exactly things shifted but suddenly I was lying awake late at night thinking about him. I would think of his large hands and find myself stroking my pussy lips and feeling breathless. In the shower I would imagine his wet naked body and find my fingers slipping inside me. Once after his lesson I ran into the ladies toilets, hurridly pulled down my panties and grabbed the small deoderant bottle from my bag. I imagined him pushing me against the wall, pushing his hard cock into me and I pushed the bottle inside my pussy, surprised at how easily it slid into me. As I pushed it in and out, deeper and deeper I imagined him fucking me hard, making me scream. In every lesson with him it was like the room was filled with elecric sexual tension but did he feel it too? I couldn't tell but it was beginning to consume me. I had never craved anyone like this before. I stopped wearing underwear to his lessons so I could run to the toilets and masturbate with the bottle more easily after each lesson.

Then it happened. We usually spent the last ten minutes of our sessions just chatting generally, it was my favourite time.

"Have you ever considered writing yourself?" he asked.

I wondered in that moment whether to hide my secret ambiiton but something inside me pushed me to open up to him and I confessed to him, "I would love to write erotic fiction."

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he broke into a smile, "Have you had much experience in real life?"

"Well... I've had sex twice, both times with guys my age but...I don't know if it felt how it was supposed to feel."

His eyes became more intense and he spoke softly, "Do you want me to help you with it?" My eyes locked into his and I nodded, not caring if he saw the desire in me laid bare. There was a loaded silence before he said softly, "You need to know how pleasure feels before you write about it."

His soft gaze sent flutters through my pussy.

"Please teach me," I whispered.

He smiled gently then slowly slowly leaned in and brushed his lips against mine. I gasped as our lips hesitantly touched so lightly then his lips were moving down my neck, like a feather caressing me. I exhaled with a moan, willing him to carry on to my breasts, my nipples tingling and stiffening in anticipation, but he pulled away gently, whispering, "We'll start learning next week."

The next week I arrived at the lesson trembling inside. I had been reliving that moment over and over in my mind, writhing in my bed, unable to sleep as the pent up desire crackled through me. I just needed to feel him inside me but I was always alone. I made up my mind that whatever was going to happen I would let it happen. The frustration was too much now.

The lesson began as normal and I struggled to focus. He seemed to be acting as if nothing had happened and I was too nervous to allude to it. Embarrassed about the feelings that had raged through me ever since I had felt his lips on me, I stayed quiet and fixated as much as I could on the words swimming in front of me. It was impossible though, I stole glances at him, those hands, his shirt buttons that could be ripped open in a second, the back of his neck inviting me to kiss it. It was torture.

Finally he anounced, "I think it's time I gave you your first lesson in erotic fiction, don't you?"

He moved his chair in front of mine and looked into my eyes.

"To write good erotic fiction you need to understand frustration, how it feels to hold back when your body is demanding to be satisfied."

He stood up purposely, asking me to stand with my legs apart and handed me an open paperback book that I recognised as a bestselling erotic fiction novel.

"Now read that aloud and no matter what happens, don't stop reading," he urged.

I began to read the words in front of me, then as I got towards the end of the page, he slowly knelt in front of me. His hands moved up my legs slowly and gently, grabbing hold of my skirt and raising it above my waist.

"Mmmmmm no panties," he murmured.

He looked up, noticing I'd stopped reading and I was breathing heavily in anticipation.

"Keep reading, don't stop," he urged.

I carried on, the words catching inside my throat as I felt his breath on my thighs before his warm lips caressed my pussy. I gasped and pressed on with reading, my voice faltering. He moaned softly as his tongue ran along my pussy lips, flicking over my clit. I forced myself to breathe steadily so I could continue reading as his licking and sucking became more urgent. I felt the most intense pleasure, which I now know was my clit swelling and pulsing. His mouth moved faster, consuming me fervently.

The book smacked against the floor and I cried out. His tongue was inside me, pushing in and out and the pleasure took my breathe away. I moaned and cried, my body seemed to respond on its own, my hands grasping the back of his head, my hips grinding against him. My moans intensified as the most amazing feeling shot through my body, starting at my pussy then firing down my arms and legs, like pins and needles. My pussy was throbbing so hard I felt like my body was exploding. My moans filled in the room and Andrew told me later that I had squirted onto his tongue and it was the sexiest thing ever. He gently kissed my thighs as the sensation subsided. I had never felt such intense pleasure before. He kissed me softly, whispering, "You're a very good student."

I felt in a daze the next day. Like I was walking around with an enormous secret, like only I knew what that man could do to a woman's body. To realise my body was capable of feeling that way was like awakening from a long sleep.

The next week he began the moment I closed his door behind me.

"You need to be able to describe a man in so much detail that the reader feels like he or she can see him," he instructed.

" I'm going to get my cock out for you now and I want you to describe it as much as you can."

He beckoned me to come closer as he stood in the middle of the room. He unbuttoned and unzipped and I watched curiously as he reached inside his trousers and pulled it out.

I had never studied a man's cock closely before. The previous fumbles in the dark with younger men were a blur to me. Now I was kneeling in front of his, swollen and upright against his stomach.

"It's beautiful," I whispered. He chuckled.

"Describe it, make them see it."

I gently stroked the underside of his cock.

"The balls are dark pink, wrinkled and heavy looking. The shaft is lighter and thick with veins leading upwards. The head is a dark pink, like a thick arrow, glistening with a tiny dark hole in the centre."

He smiled. "Now play with it, see how a man's body responds to you."

My face was so close to it now, I gently kissed the smooth shaft, along the veins towards the head. I flicked my tongue back and forth over the head, making him moan loudly. I ran my tongue around and around the rim then back down the shaft before sucking on his balls, the small dark hairs tickling my mouth as he moaned deeper.

I worked back up to the head, then gently sucked on it as if it were the end of an ice lolly. He cried out, "God!" and buried his large hands into my hair. Slowly I parted my lips wrapping them tightly around the head before slowly lowering down, taking the shaft fully into my mouth. As his huge cock stabbed into the back of my throat i gripped the base in my hand and slowly sucked back up the shaft. His cock glistened and he cried out in pleasure, "Aaaah!" Spurred on, I sucked slowly up and down, giving him the pleasure that he had given me. His moans became more and more intense and he gripped my hair tightly as I sucked and sucked. It was an amazing intimate feeling to have him swollen and hard, filling my mouth and throat. I felt him thrusting faster into my mouth so kept my head still and my lips tight around his cock as his moans became louder and more intense with each thrust.

Suddenly he cried out loudly and hot liquid squirted into my mouth. It tasted sour and thick as I swallowed it and more and more juices kept coming. I drank it all, his throbbing cock had stilled now as he recovered his breath and he released his grip on the back of my head.

"My God you're good," he whispered. "Was it ok for you?"

I nodded and smiled, pulling back from him and looking deep into his eyes, feeling like I would do anything for him.

The third lesson I knew what I wanted and couldn't face waiting any longer. I had been thinking about his cock all week and needed it inside me. He was sitting at his desk when I entered so I dropped my bag, went straight over and sat in his lap. He smiled sexily and I kissed him gently and passionately. We kissed each other slowly for a while, I had never kissed anyone for as long as this before and it was unbearably erotic. I unbuttoned my top and let my braless breasts spill out. His eyes glazed over with desire and he cupped my breasts in in his hands.

"I've never seen a student with such large breasts," he murmured as he gently caressed and squeezed them, sending shivers through me. I was so desperate for his mouth that when his tongue finally flicked over my nipple I gasped with pleasure. Waves of pleasure erupted through my body, into my pussy as he urgently kissed and fondled my breasts. I felt his cock stiffening underneath me.

We were both panting and moaning by now, I knew I had to have him. "I need you inside me right now." I whispered. I unzipped him and his beautiful cock sprang out. I held it, pulled it back then looked deep into his eyes as I slowly lowered myself down onto it.

Deeper and deeper his hard thickness pushed into me, there was a little pain as my pussy stretched for him, then I felt the tip of him deep inside me and my pussy twinged with pleasure. Our eyes locked as I gently lifted and lowered myself up and down, rocking my hips back and forth, finally fucking him. God it felt amazing, he was inside me at last. His hardness filling me as we rocked together. As I fucked him faster and faster he gripped my ass and we panted and moaned together, fucking and fucking until the orgasm flooded us and we cried out together. It was the most pleasure I have ever felt in my life.

From then on he taught me new positions every week, we fucked in front of a mirror so that I could watch his cock disappearing inside me and then the glistening shaft re-emerging. It was such a turn on and all the while I was describing it all in my head.

After I had sat my exams and left university I didn't see Andrew again. Presumably his wife never found out, I certainly never told anyone. But he is there in all my stories, it's his beautiful cock I imagine as I type a sexy scenario or if I'm lying awake restless and horny. He awoke something in me and every time I write I try and bring him back to me.

Just for a while.