Chance Encounters Ch 01 1

THIS STORY WAS CO-AUTHORED BY rva98. I WOULD LIKE TO THANK HIM FOR HIS CONTRIBUTION.

The first day of class in a new semester has a certain energy to it - the newness, the weather, the anticipation and excitement that forms the backdrop of what will come. Strangers in the main, brought together for a common experience yet to be developed. I have been through this many times, but each time it feels like the first.

The class, about 20 in all, spreads out in their seats. I chuckle at the glances that go about the room, the first notices. Students of course come in all descriptions, and this class is no different. I can always count on some grunges and some sloppies, some attentives and some chatties. And so it goes with this class, normal.

I breathe in, and smile. This is my milieu, to teach. I want to grab the class' attention right away, and to use imagery and my words to draw them in. It is crucial to have a certain eagerness, buy-in, right up front. So I march through my spiel, describing the course and its objectives, the materials and expectations, how the course will progress and be tested and graded.

This is so routine to me that I can recite it on demand, and never miss an element. So as I lecture, I subconsciously but naturally size up the class, scan them with my eyes, comfortably.

Up front there are the eager beavers, furiously noting what I say as if their lives depended on it. In the rear are the malingerers as usual, looking a bit uninterested and fingering their cell phones. In between these predictable groups are the "regular" students, who fit into their own subsets, again, as usual. The guys with jeans and running shoes, some girls in their own jeans or shorts mildly paying attention and seeming somewhat interested.

However, looking out among them, I spot a young student more or less in the middle of the mass, sitting a bit towards the rear.

Now as a professor I have had some stunners in my classes, the pin up model types, who for lack of a better word are sultry. I mostly don't pay too much attention, one class being so much like the other. As I speak I find my eye coming back to this particular focus point, not really on purpose but naturally. This particular student is looking at me with a different attention, and honestly I am at her as well. She has a shy and reserved look to her, extremely cute in her glasses and white blouse and navy skirt - a skirt, in this day and time! And as I walk about giving my routine I look back at her and notice again.

She fills out her blouse fully, sensuously. I notice that first. In my next pass across the front of the room I see her legs more clearly, and there is a sensation - her smooth legs extended with ankles crossed present a different picture than anyone else in the room. With each pass, I gaze upon her briefly, but each gaze becomes a little longer, and I become aware that I am doing so.

As I drone on and speak yet more, I find that, much like a photographer searching for the subject, she continues to be in my focus. Really for the first time, I look directly at her, and I see her eyes locked onto mine.

In all honesty, it gives me a start. I smile slightly, and I see her smile slightly in respond and shift in her seat, just a subtle movement. I take a moment and spend a few more moments, not really intending to, but accepting her visage and drinking it in.

As I dismiss the class, I lean on the edge of the bench at the front and watch the assemblage gather and move to the exits, and find myself watching one in particular, this alluring young student who identified herself as Kitty, move out.

As she approaches the door, she looks back at me. Our eyes connect, and both of us smile. I admire her shape, so full and curved in just that right way.

I feel a stir. My loins swell unexpectedly, the blood rushing lower to my organ. And I sense a rising in my trousers, starting at the head of my sex.

I breathe in and exhale. This will be an interesting semester, I think

***

Another semester has started as usual. First day of classes...for me it's both exciting and nerve wracking. I'm not a people person exactly so meeting new students and initiating a conversation is always difficult for me. Then again I've been told that the way I carry myself exudes frigidity which might be why people don't want to interact with me. I can't change myself much so I'll try as usual.

After checking my timetable for a second time I decide to head to the lecture hall a little earlier. I like being in there by myself. The chill in the air and the quiet helps me relax before class and gather my thoughts.

Stepping out of the library I stand for a few seconds and allow the sun to warm my chilled skin...they always have the AC on too high at the library. As I make my way past the crowds from the library to the main science building I can smell the freshly mowed grass and pine trees because of the slight breeze...hear the usual chatter of the many students walking to their own destinations. I also catch a few glimpses and stares. Well, I am wearing a pretty short skirt today with no stockings and a white blouse which I didn't exactly button up properly like a good girl since my black lace bra is showing.

I know I'm blushing and smiling to myself...I also know that my black and white thong feels a little wet and is clinging to my nether lips. It's interesting how the slightest stare can have this effect on me...something I discovered last year and have been working on since. I like being noticed...I like showing off my femininity and curves which I have worked so hard to maintain.

After picking my seat, which will be my usual spot for the rest of the year, I settle in - opening up my laptop and getting things in order. Suddenly I look up, the gooseflesh on my arms and legs dragging my attention away from the laptop screen to scan the room since I feel a draft. My nipples are hardened and pressed against the fabric of my bra. I rub my arms, trying to get a little warmer, as the other students started to file in. A few minutes later he came in. Tall and poised with an air of confidence about him he walked into the lecture hall with a smile on his face and settled into the center of the room, leaning back against one of the two lab benches that were at the front.

I could stare all day at his electrifying smile and that glint in his greyish, blue eyes. He looks quite young but his slightly greying honey blonde hair must mean he is somewhere in his 40s. Lean and well-built with strong arms and shoulders, well defined chest that was clearly visible through his plain white shirt and the way he filled his black dress pants...

And let's stop right there is what my brain is screaming. I need to listen to it. My scholarship depends on my grades so focus Kitty.

It's impossible though...his deep, silky voice is making my imagination run wild...and the way he has been looking at me for the past couple minutes is so hard not to notice. It makes me shiver slightly as his eyes linger over my body...slowly scanning from top to bottom...good thing I wore this skirt today! He smiles at me, making the muscles low in my tummy clench deliciously. I'm already squirming since my thong is now soaked in my own wetness...unable to shy away from the day dreaming.

Where the last fifty minutes went I have no idea but I know what I will be doing as I head back to my dorm room and before walking out the door I steal one last glance at him...returning his smile and wondering if he is thinking of the same things I am.

***

After the class is gone, I gather my papers and slough off to my office. It is as expected cramped and stuffed, yet comfortable and secure. Bookcases line the walls crammed with every treatise or collection of papers relevant to my craft, with the only creature comfort being, really, a window overlooking the common square with its criss-crossing of walkways and greenery, with the odd structure or statue representing something or someone apparently important at some time, or so one assumes.

This girl who caused the stir, which though subsided is still present, is espied walking along one path. It is unmistakably her. As she walks, with her bag and books, I watch her. And the reaction returns, a quickening of the heartbeat and the fullness returning.

As this is the first day, there are no appointments or meetings. I watch, knowing that I am very alone in my office and will be.

She stops, not speaking to anyone but fidgeting with her load. I look down upon her, and feeling the heat of the moment, I decide:

I unbuckle my belt and draw my zipper down. Opening my pants, I withdraw what is now a full and swollen erection from my boxers and, making a fist, I begin to stroke my cock looking upon this woman. "Kitty" I say, repeating her name as identified, mentally imaging her in my brain. Up and down I stroke, feeling no remorse, the first dryness replaced by the fist slickness. She leans over, pushing her ass higher and exposing more of her legs.

I lean back in my leather chair, close my eyes with her in mind, and quicken the pace. I note that my cock is harder than usual in such escapades. I close my eyes and move quickly with my hand up and down, up and down. And with this young girl's mental picture beneath my eyelids, and with admittedly a gasp, I feel the surge rising from my balls and do not resist, allowing the cum to erupt up all over my hand. My eyes still closed, I continue to stroke, with her the subject.

I open my eyes. Reaching for something to absorb my excretions, my only thought is, "Who is she?"

***

I unlock the door to my room and leave my bag on the office chair in front of the desk. Pulling out my laptop I quickly open up the camera and take a few pictures...opening up my blouse slightly more and revealing the black lace bra and ample cleavage. Then bending over and hiking up my skirt to show off the black and white thong.

I never thought of myself as very attractive but the months of eating healthy and working out had definitely helped to maintain my hourglass figure. Looking into the mirror as I stand there wearing nothing but a black lace bra and thong I stare at my reflection. At 5'4" I am at average height and quite curvy, which I enjoy. Long, wavy, dark brown hair, that falls past the shoulder blades, frames my oval shaped face. Big, dark brown eyes and a small, full lipped mouth completes the look which has often been described as a cute, baby face.

Following down to the swell of my 32D breasts, which grab a lot of attention, I notice the stark contrast of the pale, milky skin against the black lace. Pulling the fabric down with one finger I stroke the small pinkish brown nipple surrounded by a medium sized areola...feeling it harden against the cool air. My eyes lower and follow the line from my waist leading to the curvy hips and shapely legs, observing how the sides of the thong cling to my skin and dig in slightly.

I could probably lose a few more pounds but I can see in the reflection how far I have come from the days when my eyes would only steal glances at my own self...ashamed to see what I was...hating how I looked. The fading screen of the computer brought me back from the depths of the maze where I often found myself. Pulling the laptop onto my lap I settle down on the bed to feed my daily addiction.

I log on to Literotica and quickly upload the edited images along with a short note about the first day of classes and all the stares I received courtesy of the outfit. As the comments and messages flood in I go back to the moment in my day which I enjoyed most - having Dr. Stephen's attention. A familiar reaction begins as images and fantasies run through my run...making me bite my lip as my hand slides into the front of my panties...middle finger trailing along the center of my slightly parted, puffy outer lips. I set my laptop aside and think of his finger sliding up and down my hot, moist core while his lips softly kiss mine...his tongue probing and licking the lower lip that I love to bite down on. His other arm around my neck...squeezing the soft flesh of my breasts...rolling the hardened nipple between his thumb and index finger as I breathe in his scent - maybe of his favorite cologne or just his own natural scent.

I imagine two fingers parting my lips gently to caress the dark pink, wet inner lips...barely brushing against my swollen clit as my hips lift to meet his fingers. Spreading the moisture all over the velvety skin before a finger slides inside...feeling the walls clenching and tightening around it as he presses and teases the soft, wet folds while his thumb now lazily circles around the swollen nub begging to be played with. His mouth claiming mine as I moan and whimper, clutching at his shirt with one hand and the sheets with the other...his fingers and thumb increasing their pace as I tremble and shake beside him. First his lips then teeth grazing along my neck as my hips grind into his hand...getting closer and closer to the edge because of his expert ministrations. And as he bites down on my neck...leaving a mark I tumble over...legs shaking uncontrollably and hips lifting off the bed as I clench and pulsate around his long, thick finger inside me.

As I come out of the daze of that incredible orgasm I realize that half an hour has passed and it's dark outside already. Sitting up in bed I grab a few tissues from the nightstand and clean up the mess I made...giggling to myself. I pad across the hallway to the bathroom and strip naked, leaving my thong and bra in the hamper to be washed later. I put on a sports bra and tank top and head to my room to find a new, comfortable pair of panties and shorts before taking my laptop and heading to the living room for my daily workout...with the lingering thoughts of the professor's fingers playing away at my subconscious mind.

***

I finish up the usual, boring tasks of the office. Forms to fill in, records about the class. Filing my syllabus with Dean Bill. Tedious but necessary I know. It takes an hour and a half but finally I am ready to go home. Once there, I root around for something to eat, and settle on something boring and light, and settle into my big chair before my laptop. I check my emails, nothing new, and then click over to my daily addiction, Literorica.

That site has been a favorite of mine for quite a while. The fantasy of it all is quite titillating, and from time to time I have found certain chat relationships that, aside from their virtual nature, have been very satisfying. I have my favorites on the AmPics page, and in other threads, where I can get lost dreaming for hours, enjoying the naughtiness of it all and, ultimately, finding my own pleasure.

Tonight I go immediately to AmPics, and see what all of my favorites are doing and saying, with a smile affixed upon my face. However, on this particular later afternoon I look at one thread there I haven't paid much attention to, the poster being Cute3Kitty. I go up and down the thread, and while most all of the pictures are deleted I find a few. And these are quite exciting, a soft young girl, buxom, with more than plenty of playfulness and personality. Paying more attention to her, I read and laugh out loud at her sweetness and innocent yet naughty nature ... and the next thing I know two hours have gone by and I am fixated.

It's always a bit awkward when a new person of interest in AmPics grabs me. I know I want to reach out, but how? I click on the private message link for Kitty -

"Hi Kitty, this is Ian. I just want to say that I love your posts and your pics. And yes, you lying on the bed in your avatar is awfully inspiring! I can easily imagine being behind you, and filling you up with my inspired manhood. If you'd like to chat, drop me a line. I have a feeling that we'd get along quite well, if you understand my meaning ...."

Send

5 minutes later, I see that there is a response. She says, "I'm very interested. See if this is good! ;)" The PM has a picture from her chest down, and she is sex personified.

I respond, and we start to chat back and forth with the thoughts of more images to come on my mind.