One Final Chance

"I got a job in Oregon!!" I could feel your excitement come through your text. You had been looking for a few months for the perfect position and I was glad that you finally got it, but sad to know that you would be leaving Michigan.

"Great, stop by before you leave so I can say goodbye." Oregon is a long way away, but that was probably for the better. We had been flirting for a while now, and I didn't know how long my resolve would hold out. I may be married, but I am not dead. It didn't start that way, it started as a teacher-student relationship (the good kind), but as you matured and left school we became more colleagues and then friends. Eventually all of casual innuendo branched into blatant flirting and double entendres. I hadn't ever strayed on my wife, but in the words of President Carter, I have known lust in my heart. So now you would be half a country away and we could both leave well enough alone.

"I'll drop by your office later. I have to be on campus anyway."

"When are you leaving for Oregon?"

"Tomorrow, late morning "

"Wow! Quick! See you later then."

I glance over at the clock and see that it is late morning, so I know you won't show up until after my second class. I buckle down and get to work finishing up my prep, anxious to see you and sad to know it will be the last time.

My classes are their typically jumble of students that haven't prepared and blank looks from those that couldn't prepare if they tried. I easily flow through the material on autopilot, knowing it won't matter how hard I try for most of the students, they simply don't care. The bright, attentive, and inquisitive ones are the ones that make it worthwhile and help me get through the day.

I cart an armload of papers down the flight of stairs heading towards my basement office. Some people would have been upset with the windowless office in the back corner of the building, but not me. The office is secluded, larger than normal and warm all winter (an oddity in our building). The side benefit is that you have to know where it is and that meant most students never bothered to learn its location. I round the last byzantine corner of the basement hallway network and find you sitting in the lone chair I keep outside my office for the occasional industrious student. You don't notice me at first and I have a chance to admire the lovely black dress you are wearing, highlighted with a little red scarf, dark stockings/hose and a those knee-high black boot pumps that I know you love. Your hair is back in a loose ponytail and its chestnut tail dangles lightly over one shoulder. I tap a steam pipe noticeably to grab your attention.

"Hey! I thought you would be down here in the dungeon soon." You hop out of the chair with that million watt smile spread across your face.

"Keeps all those pesky students away... well almost all of them."

"Sweetie I haven't been your student in years, but from the dust on this chair I would say I might have been the last one to sit in it." You start to brush dust off the rear of your dress. You have to pull the dress to see the material, and the motion tightens the fabric against your shapely ass and thighs. I watch the show with enjoyment.

"I can help you with that if you need me to."

"Perv it down horn-dog," your eyes say that you considered my offer. "Can we get out of the dungeon hallway?"

"I like the ambience, a little leaky steam pipe, a little left over smells from decades past." You frown at my delay, "oh alright." I slide past you, letting my hand brush against your thigh. A firm push opens my ancient door and I kick down the doorstop as we move through the door.

"What you don't trust me? Am I so scary that you need the door open to let people hear you scream."

"Yeah, like anyone could hear me down here." I drop my papers on a side table and collapse into my antique manager's chair. I found the chair in an unused storage closet near my office and after a little tlc and some reupholstery claimed the piece for my equally antiquated office. I motion you into the recliner I keep for quick cat naps. You slid into the chair with practiced ease and roll it around to face me, your legs demurely crossed at the ankles.

I see you close your eyes and rub your hands across the arms of the chair. "I'm going to miss this chair, it is like a hug from a big warm pair of arms." You squirm yourself deeper into the fabric. "Plus it has this loose spring..." You screw your face up for a second and then let the tension relax as you settle it, "ahhh, right there." A devious grin spreads across your face.

"I cannot believe you are molesting my poor chair."

"I'm not molesting it, this is completely consensual."

"No wonder I never can get comfortable in that chair. It doesn't want to cheat on you."

You pet the arm and purr to the chair. "Good boy Stumpy, I hope you don't miss me too badly."

"Stumpy?"

"Think about it."

"Oh... that is so wrong." You readjust in the seat and re-cross your legs, a flash of creamy white slightly underneath the hem of your dress lets me know it is stockings and not hose. "So, you are leaving tomorrow?"

"Yeah, they want me there first thing. It is my dream job, I can't pass it up." Your eyes flicker down for a second. "There has to be some dreams that come true."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking aloud," the dour look vanishes and you meet my eyes. "How is your wife doing?"

"Better, but still in a lot of pain, she hides it well, but it is hard to watch." It is always a touchy subject, the reason we first started to flirt, and the reason we have never done any more than flirt. "She does her exercises and playing with the kid helps fill in the void, but she is still never one-hundred percent."

"I'm sorry, that has to be hard."

"Yeah, part of it is that I still blame myself for saying it was okay to go ahead with the hormone treatments in the first place."

"You can't blame yourself for that, it was a choice both of you made."

"Yeah, the logical part of me knows that, but it is still a hard reminder." You lean forward and put a hand on my knee. To my shame, that small amount of contact stirs my loins more than I want to admit. I stand up quickly and lean over to my mini-fridge.

"It's getting late, I need to eat something." I've been ignoring my appetite all day and the sudden shake in my hand signals that I am a little late. As I lean forward the quick way I get up combined with the sudden flow of blood south of my belt catches me off guard and I pitch forward as my vision blacks out.

"John! Are you okay? Come on John, say something..."

The tiles on my ceiling are filthy, but that is the secondary thing I see as my eyes open. I'm laying on the floor of my office with my head in your lap. Your hands feel so soft on the side of my face, the worry obvious on your face. A little of the worry drains away as I crack a smile, "ha, I knew I could get you on top."

You lightly slap my face, "baby, if I was on top you would have passed out for another reason." I work myself to a sitting position and then crawl back into my chair. You get up and sit against my desk, obviously still concerned. "You really need to be more careful, it would be days before someone found you down here."

"Just a little hypoglycemia, I forgot lunch today." I lower my head and let the blood resettle. I let my arm rest on your shoulder to reassure you.

"Not that I'm really complaining..." I look up and realize that my hand isn't on your shoulder, but right on top of your breast. I can feel your heart pounding under my palm, and a firm nub presses into me. I quickly remove my hand.

"Sorry, wasn't quite what I was aiming for." You smile and lean back on my desk, letting your legs spread a little more than is lady-like.

"Too bad, that was more than I have gotten in quite a while."

"I know that feeling."

You raise one leg to rest on my knee. "Could you help me take off these boots, they look hot as hell, but are murder on my feet."

"Sure." The boots are the zip-up knee high go-go style. I run the zipper down and hold onto the heel as I work one hand inside to steady your calf as I pull. The fabric of your stockings is a lovely smooth silk, the kind I always told you to spend the money on. A woman cannot go wrong with real silk stockings, they feel good for her and for whoever is touching them. You lower your first leg and raise the other, but the angle is a little odd and your leg has to maneuver higher than you thought. I help you with the boot, but cannot help but see up the hem of you dress to the red silk panties you are wearing. You either don't notice or don't mind as I take my time with the second boot, letting my hand linger on your calf and run down to your foot.

"Thanks." You jump off my desk and scoop up your boots. You move across the room to put them by the door. The way you lean over to put them on the floor is calculated, I know it is, the movement perfectly stretches the fabric of your dress across that perfect heart-shaped ass of yours. You linger for a moment to put your shoes down and when you stand up the door to my office starts to slide closed.

You turn around and lean against the closed door, your eyes smoky and defiant. I can see a flush in the décolletage of your dress and your mouth is ever so slightly open. Your hands slowly undo the top couple of buttons of your dress with fluid ease and your eyes lock onto mine. You stop when the barest hint of your red demi-bra shows through the top of your dress, tempting me with the restrained curve of your fabulous breasts. I can feel the effect this show is having on me and try to readjust the way I am sitting, but I know no amount of maneuvering will hide the bulge growing in my pants from your eyes.

My eyes are locked on your breasts and your swaying hips as you saunter over to me, still sitting in my chair. You lean over me in the chair, your face so close to my ear I can feel your warm breath on my neck. The angle gives me no other place to look than down your dress, where I can see the bra barely containing you, your flushed areolas apparent at the top of the fabric. You linger there for a second and let your breathing work on me, as my bulge continues to grow. Finally, in the barest whisper, you speak. "I know you love your wife, but I also know you want me." One of your hands slides down to press on my bulge for emphasis, "I have wanted you for the longest time, and before I leave for good I am giving you one last opportunity. You can take it or leave it, but I had to try. Right here, right now, take me and do whatever you want and then I will be gone forever, just one moment of pure, unadulterated lust between us." To end your offer you lightly lick the bottom of my earlobe, just enough to make my manhood jump under your hand.

Oh god, the thoughts that run through my head. The images of your perfect breasts heaving, the rhythm of our motion, all combined for a fraction of a second. These were counterbalanced by the images of my family and the love I shared with my wife, almost incapable of a physical relationship any more, but still the love of my life. I am torn. I cannot decide if this one moment of release is worth the eternity of silence or justified by the lifetime of physical isolation I am to endure. You continue to breathe on my neck, the ragged rhythm telling me you cannot wait long, and your hand grips ever so slightly tighter on my manhood adding emphasis to your urgency.

I listen to the angel and demon on my shoulders and for once in my life do not follow the path of the angels. Your lips taste sweet as I kiss them. Their soft texture giving under my hunger, your mouth opening to my desire, my tongue seeks out yours in foreplay of what is to come. You melt down into my lap, riding my lap side-saddle as you put your hands on my face to pull me in. I rest on hand on your ass, both to stabilize your seating and to feel that firm, yet soft, mound I have dreamed about. My other hand starts to work on the buttons of your dress, working them open in the hurried frenzy of new lust. You pull my head to your neck as I suck slightly on the tender flesh, feeling your pulse pound beneath my tongue. The first moan escapes your lips as I nibble ever so gently on your earlobe. The sound makes me even harder and I can feel the heat of your womanhood spread against me through your dress.

Your dress is now undone down to your waist and I move my hand back up to cup your breast. The silk of your bra slides across the smooth flesh of your tit, letting me knead the flesh and pull slightly on your erect nipples. You gasp and moan into my hair as I torture your breasts, teasing and then letting them recover. A guttural grunt tells me you want more and you push my head down to your chest. I lift the bra off of the tender flesh and devour one nipple wholesale, lashing it with my tongue as I squeeze the other. You start to rock your hips against my lap, your arms gripped around me to hold on. I can tell your nipples are sensitive, and little shudders of a small orgasm ripple through you as I continue to play with them.

You pull me back to your face and kiss me hungrily as the ripples die down. Your hands framing my face as you maneuver back to your leaning position. As your break our kiss and stand you work your arms free of the dress and let it gather at your womanly waist. The bra is next to go, your perfect D-cup breast still firm with excitement as you run your hands down the front of my shirt. A devilish grin crosses your face as you lower yourself to your knees and start to unbuckle my belt. Firmly you relieve me of my pants and undershorts, but keep me seated. My manhood stands proud and defiant as you take me into your hand. You gently start to rub up and down as you look up at me. "I remember you once told me this was the ultimate professor fantasy. Gee professor can I trade a couple of D's (as you grip one breast with your free hand) for an A on the oral exam?"

I am barely able to croak out an answer as you squeeze just a little harder. "That depends on how deep your answers go young lady."

You apparently appreciate my humor as you take me into your mouth and proceed to demonstrate just how deep you are willing to go. I am not huge by any stretch, but eight inches is still impressive to see disappear. You slowly let me back out and run your teeth along the skin. As you reach the tip you suck hard and run your tongue along the sensitive head, teasing me as you slowly let your hand move up and down in time to your sucking. I hear small moans coming from you as you thoroughly enjoy giving me the single best blowjob of my life, and a few moans escape me. I instinctively place my hands on your head and lean back, just enjoying the sensations of your hand, mouth and tongue. You pick up speed as you get into the activity, letting my head pop free every few seconds, just so you can attack the shaft with your teeth and elicit a deep groan from me.

I know I am getting close as you again pull most of me into you, and I try to tell you by pulling on your head. My voice is lost as the sensations flood over me, but you don't seem to care. Your hands grip tightly and you move faster, pulling the climax closer. I let out a deep guttural groan as I release and you suck hard, tasting every bit of me as I collapse in the first release I have had with another person in quite a while.

"Did I earn an A Professor?" The pout and cupping of your breasts is almost too much with you down on your knees. To top it off you lick your lips in an exaggerated manner and lower your eyes just slightly.

"Well the oral portion of your exam was impressive, but I found a couple of areas where I would like you to work a little harder." I figure that will get your goat a little, and heck I'm having fun with the role-play.

"Well Professor, you'll have to show me where I can improve." You stand up and push the dress down off your hips, it slides to the floor. Before me you stand in demure beauty. Your skin is flush with excitement, your breasts heave with your ragged breath. The light pink of your areolas and nipples has become the deep red of sexual need. My eyes follow the curve of your waist down to your hips and the red silk panties I saw earlier, the wet spot is obvious and your aroma invades my nostrils, already stirring me to getting hard again. I continue down by admiring the thigh high stockings all the way down to your perfect little pedicured feet. You obviously came here hoping to seduce me, and at this point I don't mind one bit.

"I'm fine with that. It is my job to help you improve in your learning." I stand up and pull my shirt over my head. You have already liberated me of my other clothes, so I stand in front of you naked and unashamed. Your head is even with my chest and you breathe into me as you hands run through the hair on my chest. I can tell you need a release as much, if not more, than I did and I plan to satisfy that need a few times before I am done.

Reaching on top of Stumpy the Recliner (great now that name will forever remind me of you) I take off a blanket I keep there and spread it on the floor. You look at me and I take you in my arms. We kiss passionately, lettings our hands run over each other and pulling little moans from each other as we tease. I lower you down to the blanket and then kiss my way down your body.

You neck is soft and scented ever so slightly by a mixture of your perfume and the sweat of your excitement. My kisses run down from your ear to the side of your neck to the hollow at the base, where I let my tongue take over. I slide my tongue down your chest, between your breasts and then move to each nipple in turn, tracing a line along the curve of your breast and then around your areola, before I suck lightly on each nipple. My hand teases the free breast and then follows the curve of your side down to your waist. I continue to run my tongue down your stomach, teasing your belly button for a moment and then along the waist of your panties. I inhale your aroma deeply and hook my fingers under your waistband. You lift your ass so that I might pull the panties free and roll them down your legs.

Next I hook my hands into your stockings and start to roll them down your legs. As I roll them I kiss the exposed flesh and spread my fingers so they tease the skin with contact. You writhe under the attention and run your fingers through my hair. Each stocking comes off in turn, with the light sheen of saliva from my kisses tracing a path of seduction down your legs. You are now naked and I begin to work my way back up from your feet. As I climb you open your legs and your aroma floods across me.

I work up to your inner thighs and then kiss my way to the downy hairs of your mound. Your legs spread wider as I work down to your outer lips, sucking gently on them and teasing the inner lips with my tongue. You taste salty and wonderful. I run my tongue up your lips and then tease your clit with little sucks and nibbles. You gasp and moan, lifting your hips into my face. With one hand I cup your ass and the other I slide a finger into your waiting wetness. I tease your insides as I flick your clit with my tongue. You can handle it only so long and then your thighs crush against my head as wave after wave of a climax runs through you. I continue to tease you, pulling more and more out of you. You excitement drenches me and I smile with the accomplishment.

You grab me and pull me to your face, my weight pressing down on you as we kiss. You reach between us and find my excitement has returned and a hungry growl lets me know you are ready for the main course. Rolling me over you straddle me and guide me into you. Your excitement means I am buried in one luxuriant long stroke. Filled to the hilt, you lean back and rack your finger nails across my chest as you moan. For a few seconds you just sit there, your face a mask of ecstasy, and then you start to move your hips. You take long strokes as you want to get as much motion out of me as possible. Your eyes are full of hunger and you lean forward so I can suckle your breasts as you move. Every stroke buries me inside you, and every thrust pulls as small moan out of you. Your rhythm builds as your excitement climaxes. You let out a scream that I think may have made it out of the basement as your body grips me in wave after wave of orgasm. You collapse against me and kiss me with abandon, purring quietly as you hips gyrate in a slow rhythmic motion.