We had to clear out the cupboards in our spare room. We needed the space. Rummaging through I came to a dust covered box I'd all but forgotten and hadn't touched in years. It was packed with memorabilia and souvenirs from my student days. There was my university scarf, old books and course notes, and odd trophies. There was also an old departmental year book from way back then. I started browsing through it and came to a picture of my year group. Some of them I remembered so well, others I'd long since forgotten. I turned a page, and I felt as if an electric shock had hit me. There she was: Celia Hamilton.
Celia lectured us in mercantile law. She'd been a successful barrister and was taking a one year sabbatical as a visiting lecturer. The picture showed her at some university function, a smiling, elegant and sophisticated beauty in a long black evening dress. I think such a dress is the sexiest garment ever invented. It certainly was on her, sensuously outlining and emphasising her curves. Her dark hair cascaded almost to her bare shoulders crossed by thin string shoulder straps. A brooch between her breasts drew my eyes instantly to her low cut cleavage. The picture showed her exactly as I remembered her when I guess she was just reaching forty, my age now. I first encountered her when I was a student of twenty coming up to twenty one.
Her lectures, peppered with colourful anecdotes from her practice, were always scintillating. But it wasn't just her lectures that gripped our attention. After almost every one of Celia Hamilton's lectures or tutorials the main subject of conversation among my randy student mates in the coffee bar was the shortness of her, the shapeliness of her long legs, and what we'd seen of her underwear up her skirt or through her blouse. I masturbated regularly dreaming of her. But I never thought she'd be more than just a woman I enjoyed in my night time fantasies. Then it happened.
Although my memory of some of the details may have faded with the years I still remember enough, and where I might have forgotten I have put in what, knowing Celia and myself, would inevitably have happened.
I was leaving her office at the end of a tutorial when she called me back, asking if I had a moment. As soon as her office door was closed and we were alone together she spoke.
"Mr Thompson, you seem to be very interested in my legs and underwear. You were trying to look up my dress all through that tutorial, like you were in our last tutorial."
I felt my face turn red and my throat go suddenly dry. I hadn't realised she'd noticed. I awaited her scorching reprimand. But what she said next gave me an even greater shock. Her words are riveted into my memory.
"If you'd be so kind as to do something rather naughty for me I might let you see some more of my underwear, and perhaps something more, if you'd like."
While I took that in she gave me a mischievous smile and stepped a high heeled foot up onto a chair. She smoothly pulled her dress further up her leg to show me very substantially more of the sheer tan nylon clad thigh I'd had my eye on all through the tutorial. I got the message.
"What would you like me to do?" I asked. I'd fallen under her spell.
She pulled her skirt up even higher to show me stocking tops, bare thigh and above that creamy white panties with a blue flower pattern bulging over her mound.
"You'd like to show me your penis wouldn't you?" Celia said softly, her eyes meeting mine.
Without knowing it she'd hit one of my buttons. I'd enjoyed showing my penis to the few giggly excited girls my age I'd fucked or been hand jobbed by. But since I'd started to get interested in women I'd fantasised about exposing my naked penis to older women: to my teachers at school or to my mother's friends, but I'd never dared.
I undid my jeans, slipped them down round my thighs and lifted my shirt. Under my jeans I was wearing a white thong. I'd bought it in a sex shop. I thought it looked red hot sexy and I wore it in case I got lucky with a girl, like I guess I just had. The tiny triangle of cloth at the front barely covered my penis and balls even when I was flaccid, and was thin and taut enough to show the outline of my penis shaft and head. The back was just a thin gusset nestling in my bum crack. I wanted to show off my thong and I stood with my legs spread thrusting my hips forward toward her.
Celia's hand was instantly on my bulge, caressing my balls through the thin cloth, stroking the outline of my rapidly hardening shaft and reaching down inside to ruffle my pubic hair and feel my naked kit. She moved round behind me and purred as she ran her fingers slowly down the gusset strap between my bum cheeks and under me to tickle my balls from underneath. By the time she'd returned to my front my cock was rock hard erect with half my shaft sticking up above the top hem of my thong.
She pulled my thong down my thighs below my balls and my erect cock bounced out in front of me quivering stiffly. At that age I had nothing to be ashamed of down there. I guess I was about six inches erect with a big purple knob. I'd creamed my cock and balls hairless except for a neat ring of pubic hair just round the base of my shaft. I thought that looked sexy too. Celia purred softly and I grunted and squirmed with the sexual pleasure as her hand explored my fully exposed lust and erection sensitised cock.
She was standing so close to me I could feel the warmth of her body through her dress, and her big breasts were brushing softly against my arm. I couldn't keep my hands off her. I began to fondle her breasts through her dress with one hand and slid my other hand down her back to fondle her well rounded backside. I could feel the outline of her panties through the thin cloth of her dress and I followed the hem of her panties across her bum cheek with my fingers. She stepped back from me a little.
"Later!" Celia said, but still giving me that mischievous smile. "When you've done some naughty things for me. Go on, why don't you take all your clothes off?" Celia's voice was soft but persuasive and there was excitement in her voice.
Moments later I was stark naked, with my penis straining up near vertical feeling taut enough to snap and my heart pounding as I wondered what "naughty things" she had in mind.
"Get on top of my desk," Celia ordered, and I excitedly obeyed my sex mistress. "Squat with your legs as wide as you can get them."
I was young, lithe and supple in those days. I did as I was told. It was a nude pose I'd often savoured naked girls doing in the porn magazines that were my staple masturbation diet. I spread my legs as wide as I could with my penis sticking up almost vertically between my legs. Celia ran her hand up my thigh, under me between my legs to finger me round my arse, up and down my bum crack and exquisitely lightly over my almost exploding sex kit. I struggled to avoid falling over with the sudden burst of sex pleasure and somehow managed to hold back from jerking my semen.
As I perched naked on her desk she got me to pose for her in erotic poses I could hardly believe. She made me kneel with my legs wide thrusting my penis as far forward as I could. She got me on all fours with my legs wide, my bum poking up and my hard penis and soft balls hanging between my legs, and lots, lots more.
Fulfilling her promise she stripped for me as I posed for her. She undressed tantalisingly slowly. Under her back fastening dress she was in a matching creamy white bra and panty set patterned with dark blue flowers. Out of her bra her big, firm gently bouncing naked breasts were everything I'd dreamed of in my masturbation fantasies. She stepped her feet up onto the chair to slip her stockings off.
