When I was 19, I was consumed by sex.
It was all I thought about, and some days, it was all I did.
I had fucked and played my way through several of the boys and more than a handful of girls in my small, private, Catholic college and was bored with, or uninterested in, the left over options. I frittered away the summer between first and second year, mostly staying home with my parents, finding new and exciting opportunities to exhibit my tight little body in my boring home town.
When I received my upcoming class schedule in the mail, I was excited to see that my Ethics course was being taught that semester by the new philosophy professor, Dr. Young. I had noticed him the previous semester when he stopped me in the quad and asked me where the admin office was. Even though he was not my usual 'type' (rough, edgy, blue collar men), I was immediately attracted to him. He was tall, with almost black hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. His navy suit and uncalloused hands pegged him as faculty like nothing else could, but his deep and raspy voice had been like a hot tongue on my pussy, and I could feel myself throb slightly at the memory of it.
A few weeks later, I was driving back to campus, all my earthly possessions crammed into my car, radio blaring, and thoughts of Dr. Young rolling around in my head. He was going to be my school project. I had set my sights on him, and my plans to have him in my bed by the end of term were taking shape. I had decided on the bold approach, rationalizing that there was no need to be coy when I already knew what I wanted. I saw no shame in it, as we were both adults, and I was more than well-versed in sexual chemistry. I smiled to myself and hit the accelerator, eager to begin the game.
The first day of class, I made sure to wear a very short skirt, and a tight t shirt, with no bra or panties. I wanted to leave nothing to chance, no reason for him to think he was misreading the signals I was going to be sending. Because of the small size of the college, classes were held in classrooms rather than larger lecture halls, and I selected a seat right in front, slightly to the left of the lectern. He smiled and gave me a head nod of recognition as I sat down, legs crossed, and took out my pen and paper, ever the eager student. Other students filed in, and after 3 or 4 minutes, he cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. He introduced himself and then ran down the attendance list, matching names with faces. Passing out the syllabus, he explained the course expectations for the semester, gave out his contact information, and all the other usual introductory things.
At last, he went behind the lectern and began outlining Wittgenstein's theory and after making eye contact with him, I sat further back in my seat and opened my legs, giving him an uninterrupted view of my bare pussy. His voice dried up mid-sentence and he looked for a minute like he was choking to death, but then recovered and picked up where he left off, his eyes never leaving my now throbbing cunt.
Though I wanted nothing more than to let him stare under my skirt all class, I was determined to reel him in for more than an ongoing peep show. I slowly brought my knees together and resumed taking notes. He at once began speaking more normally and returned to the board, outlining and underlining and becoming very animated about the topic. Right as he began to fully hit his stride, I opened my legs again, and grinned up at him as he once again stumbled over his words and dropped the chalk. As he bent over to retrieve it, I spread my knees further apart, and ran my left hand up my thigh, close to but not touching, my wet pussy. He hesitated for a moment; apparently enjoying the eye level view, then rose with the chalk and turned away from me to once again write furiously on the board. I marked that as the end of the game for today, and spent the rest of the class actually paying attention and ignoring his hopeful glances at my knees.
The next three classes were filled with more of the same, until one day when he clumsily asked me to come to his office later that afternoon to discuss my class work. I spent the couple of hours until our appointment getting ready for him - taking a shower, taking care to shave my pussy bare and smooth, rubbing scented lotion into my tits and stomach. The weather was still warm, so I chose a strapless plum colored sundress and some black sandals. I considered, and then ruled out a bra and panties, opting instead to allow for easy access. I was hoping at least for a thorough kiss and grope session, but had my sights set on a quick and dirty fucking bent over his desk. Just thinking of it made my nipples tighten.
I knocked on his office door and turned the knob when I heard him call for me to come in. He was sitting at his desk, writing something in his date planner, and had not looked up yet. I shut the door behind me and clicked the lock, ensuring at least a few minutes of privacy with my prey. As I stood there, waiting for him to finish his notes, I could feel my anticipation slide down my thigh. I was excited, nervous, thrilled to be here, with this man, who knew only slightly more than nothing of my plans for him.
