Dean Davis and M. Martine Matheson
The professor awoke to the sound of running water in the shower. What an incredible evening with the auditor of his History of Sports class. She probably had another class to get to this morning, but he didn't care.
His cock half hard and slowly growing, he made his way into the bathroom and opened the shower door. He entered and finding Shell facing away from him, cupped her sexy breasts and began nuzzling that space between her neck and shoulder that he had found last night to be her weakness.
Shell had wished with everything she had that Dr. Davis would pick up on her invitation to the shower. He had been ardent for weeks but ever since he returned from a brief vacation, had been somewhat cold and distant, and had not flirted with his prize student once. She was beginning to think she had lost her touch, or worse, that the professor had lost interest.
Apparently, he hadn't.
"Mmm…" Shelley moaned at the professor's touch. "Dr. Davis? What in the world are you doing?" she said, teasingly. "I have a history of the National Football League class today and the subject is the Pittsburgh Steelers. I REALLY need to go."
"You can miss that one, Shell," the professor said, guiding his hard cock into her pussy from behind while the couple was still standing. "It's a short class today."
Shell's hands were flat on the white tile of the shower so she could brace herself for her esteemed professor, whose body sent shocks of desire through her and whose voice, whose sexy fantastic voice, she played over and over when she taped his lectures. Their first sexy, flirtatious encounter had taken place when he hired her to transcribe her tapes...but today, all she could think of was Dr. Davis' lips on her neck, his hands gripping her waist, and the sensation of his enormous cock easing itself into her uptilted hips. Even if they did run out of hot water this would never be a cold shower.
Shelley decided against her morning class, thinking she could always get the notes from someone else. Heck, Dr. Davis was a football fan; he could probably fill her in. And that's just what he was doing now -- filling her in, over and over again. He turned her head to kiss her and their lips met. Shelley continued to gasp and moan as the professor's massive cock maneuvered inside her sexy pussy...."spend the weekend with me," he whispered as he made love to his prize student...
Davis didn't make the offer lightly. He'd had to do some rearranging of his schedule to even get this girl here in the first place. He wasn't going to leave this to chance. Since their first embarrassed kiss, in his crowded, messy office that cold December evening, their relationship had been businesslike, but fraught with sexual tension. First hired to transcribe her classroom notes for uploading on the Net (Shelley never missed class, which was more than Davis could say for the jocks), she had proven herself quickly to be the competent, careful assistant his colleagues said she was.
Fact is, Dr. Davis hired her for another reason, too. She was hot. He'd had lots of women, all ages, colors, and sizes, but this one. She was a puzzle. Shelley never dressed provocatively, but she was sexy. She wasn't foul mouthed, but she looked like she needed to be fucked. Rumor was among the jocks that she didn't "put out" and there was a huge bet riding on which one would be the first to bed her. Some unsuccessful suitors started another rumor,that she was a lesbian, but Davis didn't think so. Maybe an experimentor - shit, that's what college was for, to make all your mistakes while living at your parents' expense before you had to enter the real world.
After they agreed on her hourly rate, she spent many a late fall afternoon with her legs curled under her on a couch in his office, hair out of her way in a ponytail, her glasses slipping down her nose and she made careful pencil marks in the margins of his novel The Coach. Their rapport had developed to the point where Davis entrusted Shelley with the novel, trusted that she would not reveal its subject matter. As she sipped her tea, Davis thought back to her response to a shower scene he'd written for his hero and one of his many conquests.
