This story is the second story of a series following a professor and his TA. Like "
My First Day of Class" before it, "Releasing the Professor" is dedicated to and inspired my dear Josie, a friend I met right here on Literotica. She has brought out a part of me that has been yearning to be released for many years. Thank you Josie.
If you would like to read my previous works, they are published under the account name WhimsicalEroticist, an account I '
m no longer able to access. Thanks for reading and comments are welcome on this and previous stories.
I was determined to get there early and catch him off guard. I knew he wanted me and, if I got him in the right situation, he could not resist me. So today. I was determined to continue what I had started last Wednesday.
My name is Letty. I'm a twenty year old third year psychology student at state Uni. I'm 5'5" tall and half Latina, half Caucasian giving me a permanent tan that accents my dark eyes and hair. My long black hair hangs down to my shoulders and on this day I have it done in a tight French braid. This braid brings to prominence my high forehead which is bordered by my meticulously manicured eye brows and lashes below. My deep brown eyes love to gaze upon others with inquisitiveness, with deviousness, and for the right person, with deep lust and desire. My cheeks and lips, which I enjoy making up in a variety of ways, contained just a bit of adornment on this Monday as I was trying to accentuate my natural tones.
I don't consider myself conceited, but I'm pretty proud of my body. It is held up by a pair of legs that is shapely and muscular from hours of yoga, long hikes, and days of being on my feet as a barista. My breasts, which can be called neither large nor small, are just about perfect for my stature and my curves. Super sensitive, everyone who has seen them, fondled them, or sucked on them, both male and female, has really enjoyed them. Below them my body narrows into a thin waist which then widens out to create a classic hour glass figure. My greatest asset is just that, my ass. Blessed by genetics I have what one previous lover called a "juicy booty."
So the "him" I am referring to was my history prof, Professor Nickerson, for whom I also served as a TA. It's a bit unconventional for a psych major such as myself to be a TA for a history prof, but I sort of manipulated the situation a bit.
The previous week, on the first day of class, I intentionally flirted with him and flashed him during his lecture. Then later that day I went to his office to talk about becoming his TA and secured that position with an impromptu seductive hand job that left him as putty in my hands.
I'm not usually that forward with men - actually, I have never been forward with any man. But Professor Nickerson is different. The moment I saw him my first year at Uni I knew I had to take a class from him. I was dejected when I found out he was in the history department and not the psychology department. That's why I wasn't able to take a class from him until my third year - I had to find one that would work as a cross discipline course.
I don't think Professor Nickerson had any idea how attractive he was to the girls. He seemed quite oblivious to the fact that 90% of the students who stopped to ask him a question after class were females. When he teased these girls about their silly questions, he thought he was just teasing them, but the girls all went away excited thinking he was flirting with them. And it seemed to fly right past him that his class enrollment was made up of 70% women when the University's enrollment was 55% men and 45% women. How do I know all this? Well, that first statistic is my estimation from observation, so it isn't terribly valid. But those last numbers I researched. (Remember, I spent two years trying to find one of Professor Nickerson's classes that fit into my schedule and major.)
So what was it about "Nickie" (that's the nick name I dreamt of being able to call him someday) that attracted such attention? Well, there's something about the salt and pepper hair mixed with his well kept and in shape middle aged body that, to me, was practically irresistible. It's not that he was crazy muscular or had that perfect movie star face or anything. I suspect he didn't have that look as a young man either. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if he was hotter now that he was in his 50's than when he was my age. But his hair, the wrinkles of his eyes, the way he wears his glasses and holds them with one arm in his mouth when he's deep in thought, the slight wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his mouth, the way he walks with a sense of casual confidence, and his incredible intellect and wit - that whole package made him just about the hottest man I'd ever encountered. He wasn't
practically
irresistible. He
was
irresistible. At least to me.
That's why I was so forward on the first day of class. And that's why I had been formulating a plan to be even more forward on this day. I'd been dreaming of him for two years. So it wasn't a total surprise to me when the other day, as I gave him an orgasm with my hand, I too had an orgasm, all be it a small one. I don't think I'd ever experienced that without another person or myself touching my breasts or my pussy in an erotic manner. It was purely out of my causing the pleasure in Nickie that my pleasure emanated. I still, to this day, dream about that afternoon.
But after Wednesday, my contact with Professor Nickerson was minimal. Not because of me, mind you, but on account of him. I showed up on Thursday for my first official day as his TA. I was hoping that maybe there might be some alone time in his office again and we could pick up where we left off the day before.
But just as I arrived at his office, he was locking it up. When he noticed me coming he said, "Oh, hi Letty. I'm glad you're here. Here's the papers from my 101 history courses I'd like you to go through," without looking me in the face, he handed me a stack of papers. "Go over them for spelling and grammar and mark things in green or red. I'll then go back through and check the argumentation. I'm sorry I can't stay and chat," he continued, "but I have an appointment I have to get to. Have a great day, Letty." And with that he walked quickly down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
On Friday, I brought the papers back. But this time, on top I wore a tight fitting black shirt that hugged my breasts and left little to the imagination. On bottom I wore a pair of jeans that hugged my greatest asset so tightly that it screamed out to anyone with eyes, "Look at how hot I am." Based on how my fellow students, both men and women, looked at me while I walked around during the day, the jeans were having their desired effect. Unless, of course, you're a professor who avoids looking at your sexy TA all together and rushes away down the hall just like the previous day.
All weekend I pumped myself up, telling myself that I was going to be bold and not let that happen again. And so there I was, on Monday, heading down the hall toward his office, a full hour before he expected me. As I approached, I smiled to see his door ajar knowing that he was fulfilling his office hour duties in case any student needed assistance. After the first day or two of class, most professors don't have any students drop by the office until midterm. I figured we would not be interrupted as I entered into his office.
"Hello Professor Nickerson," I said, quietly closing the door behind me. I covered up the sound of turning the lock by saying, "Your TA is here reporting for duty."
"Well hello Letty," he said turning his chair to face me. "I've been expecting you. Come on in and have a seat."