The Phone Call

Later that night, my phone rang. When I saw the number, my cock began to grow.

After answering she cut off my hello with a breathless, "Oh god, you're so bad." She dragged that last syllable out into a whimper of a sound.

"Am I?" I asked instantly both bemused and aroused. "How's so?"

"Well," she let out a small giggle, "I came to your office to see you today, and do you know what I saw?"

Uh oh. My throat went dry as my mind went back to my office door which had been left open too long that afternoon as I first fingered and then fucked the department administrative assistant. "What did you see?" I asked, stiffening (and not in a pleasant way).

"My, my," she said, "I could hear your jaw clench. You need to relax. I'm not out to hurt you. I'm here to play." Over our phone calls this student had gotten much bolder, more confidant in her role as tease.

"Yes, yes," I tried to be dismissive; "I'm a very uptight kind of guy."

Her laugh turned into a kind of mewling wantonness as she said, "I bet I know how to help you unwind."

I cleared my throat to stop my mind from wandering, "So why did you call again?"

"Because," she said, "I stopped by your office today. You know you should close your door all the way if you're going to fuck your secretary. You never know what kind of voyeur might be lurking in the hallways."

My mouth was dry; I figured there was no point denying it. "You saw that, did you?"

"Mhmmm," came the reply.

There was an awkward silence as I wasn't really sure what to say next. One of my students had seen me fucking the departmental secretary in my office. What's worse, I didn't know which student despite having had phone sex with her.

I said the only thing I could think of to say which admittedly wasn't much, "So..."

"So what?" she asked, almost cheerfully.

"So what now?"

"What do you mean?" She seemed taken aback.

"Well," I said, "You called me. Do you have something else to say about it?"

"Um..." She clearly hadn't thought too far ahead.

"Yes?"

She mumbled something into the phone that I couldn't understand. "What was that?" I asked.

Very quietly she said, "I wish it had been me."

"If you had come by my office earlier, it may have been." I tried to be more confident in my handling her.

"Oh," she almost purred, "I don't know. I don't think so."

"Really? Why not?" I wasn't sure where she was going with her thoughts, but I figured I might as well have some fun, so I added, "What, aren't you attractive enough for me to want you?"

She laughed into the phone. "What low self esteem you must have to think only ugly girls would want you. If you must know, I expect you wouldn't be able to help yourself. I'd be your cocaine." She sighed into the phone. "I bet you're touching yourself now, aren't you Professor?"

She had me there. Unconsciously my hand wandered into my lap and was rubbing my cock through my pants. I really needed to end this.

"Look," I began but she cut me off with a cackle of girlish laughter.

"Oh my god, I'm so right, aren't I?" She slipped into a long whimpering sigh, "God it's so hot that you want me that badly and you don't even know my name."

"Look," I began again forcefully, "this has to stop. I'm your professor. Not to mention I'm married. It's wrong."

"Mhmmm," she purred, "it so is." Silence lingered for a moment and then she continued, "Want to guess what I'm doing right now?"

I didn't have to guess, but somehow I found the resolve to take back control. "I think this is over."

She moaned into the phone, exaggerating her own building orgasm. "We'll see," she said and then *click,* the phone went dead. A momentary feeling of victory spread over me as I had successfully pulled myself away from this intoxicating girl. But that was almost immediately swept away by a feeling of anxiety. What if it really was over? Did I really want it to end there? Then again, what if it wasn't?

I awoke the next morning refreshed, even relieved. I think I actually whistled to myself as I adjusted my tie in the mirror. My wife commented on how unusual it was to find me in so good a mood. I figured that despite the very compromising position I had put myself into, I had likely ended the flirtation with this student, clearing my head and my conscience as I again returned to that space where I was lost in my own heady thoughts without paying much attention to students at all. At least I had demonstrated the strength to walk away, and that was something.

I believed once again in the strength of my ethical resolve. Ethics is a fragile thing, however.

As I walked into my office my cell phone alerted me to a text. It was from her, of course, and it was a picture. There on my phone was my anonymous student, from the neck down, completely nude except for a pair of black heels. Her body was shapely, tanned and toned. Perky breasts, B cup, I'd guess. And her slim waist slowly sloped into soft inviting hips.

Of course she was shaved but her legs were held tight together as she stood in front of what must have been a full length mirror. In one hand she held her phone for the selfie, in the other she held a copy of the book for my class. She had captioned the text, "Studying Me" which I thought was fairly clever given the multiple interpretations the tag lent itself to.

I studied the picture as I stood in the middle of my office. She was perfect. I imagined running my hands over her body, sealing my mouth over her sweet shaved cunt. Before I drifted off into fantasy, however, I began to ask what clues such a pic could reveal of her identity.

She had fair skin, not excessively tanned like some of the coeds on campus. And at her shoulders was the end of her hair, curly as I already knew, but blonde too. How many young women with curly blonde hair down to their shoulders could I have in my classes?

When I hadn't responded, my phone sounded another incoming text. "So, Am I too ugly to want to fuck?"

This time I responded. "You have a nice body, no doubt, and decent study habits I see." This earned me an "lol" in response.

I responded again. "Will you be coming to class today? If you do, I'm willing to bet I can guess who you are."

She replied, "What are you willing to bet?"

That was an interesting question. I know what I wanted, but what did she want? After I considered this for a moment I sent another text. "If I figure out who you are, you'll leave me alone."

After waiting a few minutes a reply came. "If you figure out who I am, you won't be able to leave me alone."

My heart started to race. I managed to text back, "See you in class." But what was I going to do? I hoped my resolve would hold. I started to perspire.

I fell back in my office chair and ran my fingers through my hair. I looked at the picture again and unconsciously licked my lips.

I had only two classes today for a total of about 60 students. Some of them wouldn't show up, of course, but she said she'd be there. In my head I had already narrowed the list somewhat, ruled out some girls I had been considering before the picture text.

When class finally began I was a bit anxious, managed to relax by controlling my breathing. As the students filed in I soon realized that no one in this class fit the description. There were blondes, but no curls. Curls but not shapely enough. I settled into my boring lecture which was so familiar to me after years of teaching that my mind could wander while my mouth delivered it.

As I made my way into my second classroom, my heart was really racing. I debated about cancelling class if I could immediately identify her. I wasn't sure I could keep composure, I was worried I would devolve into a slack jawed stare as my mind played images of her splayed body being impaled on my cock. Of having her bent over my desk while I fucked her from behind.

I literally shook my head to stop my mind from wandering. I looked around. Not here yet from the look of it. I checked my watch; time was ticking away. No sign of blonde curls and a lithe body. Time came for lecture to begin, still no sign of her. I busied myself with my books, delaying. But she didn't show.

She must have got scared and decided not to come. Immediately I was in a foul mood. I called out a student for texting during class and invited her to leave. I grew impatient and snarky when no one would answer my questions about the reading. These things I usually let go, but today was different, I was irritated and looking to take it out on someone.

Class ended and I checked my phone. No text. No phone call. I gathered my things and headed for my office. I considered pulling Heather into my office and fucking her again, but decided against it. I got off the elevator in my building and turned the corner to my office and there she was.

Molly Peterson. Strangely I always forgot her name when I called role, but there it was, front and center in my mind. Molly Peterson.

"Hello sir," She said as I approached, her chin pointed down, arms hanging in front of her, holding our class text book at her mid section like a chastity belt. She was wearing a flower print sundress and her blonde curls dangled in front of the bluest eyes. She bit her lip hesitantly, but her eyes smirked at me. I instantly desired to ruin her.

I did my best to look annoyed as I fished the keys to my office door out of my pocket. "Molly, isn't it? Molly Peterson, you weren't in class today." My door swung open and she followed me in. I directed her to the seat in front of my desk as I closed and quietly locked the door behind me. This wasn't what I had planned, but this was how it was going to be.

She remained silent as I walked beside where she was seated. I leaned back against the wall, even with her, looking down on her disapprovingly. She kept her eyes on her feet which were wearing the same shoes as the photo.

"Your absence is one thing," I began sternly, "but frankly I'm more concerned about the texts you've been sending me." Her eyes shot up to mine. Of course I knew it was her and she knew that, but I think it surprised her to find me so bold about it. Then she smiled.

"I'm sorry sir," she wetted her lips, "Was that an inappropriate picture?"

"I think you know that it was."

"So," she mockingly pouted, "You didn't like it?"

It was my turn to grin at her coquettishness. "I think you know that I did."

She turned herself sideways in the chair, facing me. She leaned back with her elbow holding her up on the chair's arm behind her, her head tilted forward, peering at me seductively from beneath those lovely curls.

She draped one leg over the other arm of the chair, dangling her shoe from her suspended foot. The hem of her dress slipped down the milky white flesh of her thigh almost to her waist. I stared intently at the space between her spread legs, barely covered by the thin cotton fabric of her dress.

She reached between her legs with her free hand. Her delicate finger first pressed the soft fabric into her body, then she raised the hem of her dress, revealing that she wore no panties.

"Well," she said as she lazily worked a finger over her clearly wet hairless slit, "Here I am, live and in person, professor. What are you going to do?"

I walked toward her and stared down at her lounging lithe body intently. I took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back so she stared up at me. Her eyes went wide for a moment as she let out a little gasp before returning to the lidded hungry stare she had before.

I leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth. Her mouth tasted young, a faint sweetness, like bubble gum but her moans were whorish and wanton. I drank from her mouth with her tongue, all thoughts of marriage and career slipping far into the recess of my will.

I lowered myself. Kissed down her long neck as I kneeled in front of her. She wrapped her fingers in my hair. Was this little minx actually pushing me lower?

Her straps slipped off her shoulders and I pushed her dress down, exposing her smallish B cup breasts. I cupped the right one with my hand, gently twisting the nipple between thumb and forefinger. It instantly grew hard to my touch.

I spent a moment or two with my mouth on each breast. Tasting every inch of her flesh, but it was a blur. As I slipped lower the heady aroma of her open sex filled my nostrils so that I was possessed by a strong desire to taste her.

As I lowered myself further, I took hold of her legs behind each knee and spread them apart as I pushed her legs up. I kissed her left thigh reveling in the luxury of its soft flesh. I looked up at her. Her cheeks were flush, mouth parted, eyes unfocused but intent.

"You must be quiet." I managed and she faintly nodded before I lowered my mouth onto her perfect little cunt. She tried her best to muffle her squeal, but as my tongue worked its way into her. More moans and cries escaped her lips.

She tasted so sweet, and I devoured her. I worked my tongue as deep into her as far as I could before wiggling it back and forth up over the length of her slit, and then sucking gently on her engorged clit.

She bucked in the chair underneath me, or tried to, but I held her down as my mouth locked onto her. Her fingers wrapped into my hair and she grinded herself against my tongue as best she could.

She began a long slow whine that slowly built in intensity, punctuated by quick movements of her hips as she pressed her cunt against my mouth. It almost sounded as though she was crying, and for a moment my concentration broke, and I was tempted to stop, but her grip on the back of my head told me otherwise.

I flicked my tongue quickly over her clit and her body began to shudder. Her whine became a steady cry, followed by convulsions, and finally a great big gasp as her body went slack in the chair.

"Oh god," she panted, "I didn't know..." Her hair was mussed and her makeup had smeared a bit. I stood up and brought her to her feet. Kissing her again I let her taste herself on my lips and tongue as I ravaged her mouth for a second time.

Spinning her small frame around I bent her over my desk and stood behind her. She was limp and behaving more like a rag doll than an active participant, but after eating her to orgasm I had to fuck her. My cock ached in a way it hadn't since I was a teenager.

She muttered, barely audibly, "Wait... wait... wait"

I flipped her skirt onto her back and reached down between her legs, feeling that she was still slick and ready to be fucked. I unzipped my pants, but asked, "What?"

"Please," she said, propping herself up onto her elbows and looking back at me over her shoulder, "it's my first time." She looked unsure of herself.

I hadn't really expected that. I rubbed my cock head along her wet slit. "Molly, do you want me to fuck you?"

She looked back at me, "Yes sir."

"Then say it."

She hesitated, "I want you to... fuck me."

"I don't believe you, Molly."

She lowered her head and pushed back a little against my teasing cock. "Please fuck me, professor."

Unprompted she said again, "Please fuck me professor. Please take my cunt and make it yours. Fuck me and cum inside me."

I pressed into her. My god she was tight. I rocked back and forth until I felt the mushroom head of my cock slide into her virgin hole. I took hold of her hips and pressed harder. She whimpered and moaned, half grunted whether in pain or pleasure was not clear.

"Come on Molly." I encouraged her, "Show me how much you want to be my slut." And all at once she pushed back hard against me and her virginity was gone.

She cried out, "Oh fuck yes!" more in triumph than pleasure. Her cunt gripped my cock like a firm velvet fist. I could feel every inch inside her. Slowly I began to rock my hips, small movements at first, then bigger ones, until I was fucking her in earnest.

She mewled as my cock opened her, made her cunt adjust to my size. I held her slender hips and pressed hard against her as she grunted with each thrust. My cock swelling.

"Oh god," she repeated, "I can't... believe... this... is... finally... happening" she said with each thrust.

"You wanted my cock that badly?"

"Oh god yes, professor," she said as I fucked her in a steady rhythm. "I knew you were the one."

I briefly pulled out of her and turned her onto her back. Stepping between her legs I reentered her now stretched cunt, perfectly accommodating my still rock hard cock. She propped herself up on her elbows and wrapped her long legs around my hips.

"Come on sir, fuck me, make me yours, ruin me for anyone else." Her eyes were desperate and intently locked onto mine. I leaned forward and kissed her, pressed my tongue into her mouth as my cock invaded her cunt.

My own orgasm was building, but I didn't want to stop fucking this young student who had so eagerly seduced me into taking her virginity. As my thrusts become more insistent, I had sense enough to say into her mouth, "Are you on the pill?"

She leaned back, a looked at me through lidded eyes with a half smile, she shook her head no just as I felt her legs lock tighter around me.

It was my turn to say, "Oh god" but instead of stopping I fucked this girl harder. I wanted her, wanted to mark her, to make her body mine.

She whispered, "Please cum inside me." And I obliged, pressing hard into her, my cock exploded deep against her cervix, filling her young fertile womb with my cum. I thrust hard with each spurt, and she wrapped her arms around me as it was my turn for my body to shake.

Fuck, what was I thinking? I slipped out of her and sank to the floor. Overcome by a sense of dread. She slipped down next to me and cuddled into my lap.

"Don't worry sir," she said, "I think we can bring your wife come to a new understanding."