Once again, thank you for the comments and the feedback. If you haven't read the first four stories you might want to start there. Feel free to send me your thoughts. I will respond. Don't forget to vote. Enjoy.
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The last few days had been a hazy blur of torrid sex. Everywhere I went I seemed to encounter a cornucopia of juicy pussies, bountiful tits, and succulent asses. I had fucked two of my students, banged my PhD advisor, and gotten a hand job from a random shower nymph. Life was good, but it was also draining. I was losing my focus. I couldn't hone in on my grad work, and I could feel myself falling farther and farther behind. Instead, I was slipping into a steamy dream world that dripped with horny passion. I knew that I was still fine, but I also aware that my course work and teaching assignments would soon suffer.
So I resolved to buckle down. I needed to get some work done. I got home fairly early on Saturday night and went immediately to bed. I was dog-tired; I think I fell asleep while my head was still en route to my pillow. I got up early the next morning, showered, and took a brisk walk around my apartment complex. I felt rested. The cool morning air cleared my head, and the lust driven veil seemed to lift. It was a beautiful day, all puffy clouds and blue skies. The college based apartment complex was, of course, deserted. Sunday morning is not a good time for students, as the impacts of the inevitable Saturday night revelry are often still lingering.
I thought about the tasks that lay ahead of me. Several papers were quickly coming due that demanded my undivided attention. I plotted out a quick mental schedule, and decided to get to work. Sex would wait until later.
When I got back to my apartment I made myself a hot cup of green tea. From there, I went to my room and sat down in front of the computer. I flicked on the monitor and banished the screen-saver. Quickly, I began to peck at my keyboard. An outline for my first paper began to develop on the screen in front of me. I loved this, the intellectual exercise of wrestling with theory. I never knew quite where it came from. Somehow, when I sat down to write, the thoughts and theory would flow. The process always seemed like a test of wills with ever shifting schemas. One word moved the status of the thought to and fro, forcing the meaning to subtly mutate with the slightest touch. When the words appeared on the screen, however, my understanding was transformed. My ideas popped into place and were made stable.
I spent the rest of my day hammering away in front of my computer. When I went to bed, I felt like I was on a roll, that my thoughts could not – should not – be stopped. Consequentially, when I got up the next morning I decided to beg off of my teaching duties for that day. I called up a fellow grad student and friend named Sarah and asked her to cover my classes for the day. She grumbled, and made me promise that I would buy her dinner before agreeing to sub-in for me. I guess a night away from Ramen was all any good grad student could ask for. "Fair 'nough," I said to her over the phone and then went back to work.
Time ticked by. The day came and went. The inevitable mess from two days living like a hermit built up on my desk. Several mounds of books marked by sticky post-its were strewn about the room. Crumpled notes lay on the floor, where I had missed tossing them into the trash can. A plate of sandwich crusts was forgotten next to my computer. I was a little jittery, as I had just settled into my third two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew. I had been at this, without a real break, for the last two days. While I needed to go back and edit, a couple of hours ago I had completed a decent first draft of a twenty-five-page research paper. The last few hours, though, had been frittered away, staring down the fearsome wall of writer's block. I had failed to adequately transition from one paper to the next. My mind felt like pulverized mush, and I am sure that the excessive levels of caffeine circulating in my bloodstream weren't helping any. Perhaps I needed to call it a day.
The ring of the telephone woke me from my research-induced stupor. I debated for a moment, whether I should pick it up; a caller might distract me from my work. But, I thought, I am not really accomplishing anything at the moment anyway. Maybe a brief conversation might clear my head. I reached for the phone.
"Hello?"
I heard a deep breathy voice on the other end of the line pant, "Hey big boy. Thinking about me?"
It was Jessica - my student, who had fucked me for a grade. I heard her sultry voice and I was transformed. It called up memories of her luscious, 18 year-old body writhing in pure sexual pleasure. She was so beautiful when she came. I remembered the feel of the soft mounds of her tits in my hands, against my chest, and around my cock. Her mouth was an instrument of exquisite pleasure that could drive me to an instant rock-hard state. Jessica's tongue would slather my shaft with long, wet, teasing licks that would make me boil over with pre-cum. And Jessica's pussy – Jessica's pussy! – dripped with a sweet nectar that I craved in the origins of my soul. Thoughts of me fucking her, pounding her tight, shaven, little snatch, banging her deep and hard until she screamed in orgasm, echoed and reverberated in my brain. I gulped, caught my breath, and replied, "Sure. What red-blooded guy wouldn't?"
She laughed and said, "So professor, Shan and I missed you in class today."
"Yeah, I had a lot of work to do, so I asked Sarah to cover for me."
"I know. It's a pity, though that Sarah chick was kinda hot. She has such huge tits for that tiny little body. Do you think she likes girls?"
I grinned, "Well I don't know if she is into ladies, but I do know that enjoy guys – if you know what I mean."
"Fuck, professor! No way!" Jessica exclaimed. "You sly dog! You did it with her, huh? You boned her, right?"
"Maybe," I said, knowing my tone gave everything away.
"You did it. You totally tapped that ass! When did you guys hook up? You two aren't an item are you?"
I wasn't sure if I heard a drop of concern or jealousy in Jessica's voice. I decided to answer her with the somewhat uninteresting truth, "Yeah, Sarah and I got together a couple of times right after we met each other. We were both starting the PhD program, and were probably a little lonely."
"Horny is more like it, knowing you," Jessica quipped, cutting into my train of thought.
