This is a true story of my first time. I've changed the names, but the experience is all real, and one I'll remember fondly forever.
I always enjoyed Professor Lane's English classes for the simple reason that she was gorgeous. Maybe it wasn't obvious to most guys. She kept herself well-concealed under her long, ankle-length skirts, the blouses buttoned to the neck, and her glasses which could make her look more professorial than sexy. But it was clear to me from the first day I laid eyes on her. She had thick, brown, wavy hair, and wore large loop earrings. She was an amazingly bright woman who moved with such flowing grace, I was captivated by her every time. Everything from the way she walked to the way she tilted her head when she listened to your answer was done with dance-like beauty. When she turned to write on the board, I could only imagine the smoothness of her skin beneath the folds of her skirt. Call it an overgrown schoolboy fantasy if you will, but I drifted off to sleep many nights with visions of her in my head. In truth, though, my dreams of her were never particularly erotic. I often just saw close-ups of her face-- the way her deep red lipstick enhanced her smile, the way her auburn hair framed her heart-shaped faceβyes, the dreams were quite innocent for the most part, but I won't lie and say I never imagined anything further. But never, in a million years, did I ever think my deepest fantasies would be fulfilled by this woman.
It happened one Friday afternoon. Class was over, and as the students poured out into the hall for their next lecture, Prof. Lane gestured for me to return.
"I want to talk to you for a second," she said.
I hesitated.
"It's okay, you're not in trouble, just come here. And close the door."
I did as she asked, and she took a seat on her desk. I sat in the closest chair facing her. She flashed a kind smile at me. "First year in college?" she asked
"Yes."
"Enjoying it so far?"
I smiled. "So far so good."
She paused, and I could tell by the way she lowered her head that she felt a bit awkward about whatever it was she wanted to say. Her hand drummed the desk as she puzzled over the right words. At last she looked up again. "I see the way you look at me," she said, and I immediately blushed. "It's okay," she added quickly, smiling again. "It's actually quite flattering. I'm not sure I've ever been a younger man's fantasy before. You must know I'm older than you right?"
I nodded, and I did not for one second believe that she was never a younger man's fantasy before. I doubted it even more a second later when she crossed her legs allowing me to see the smooth curve of her thigh for the briefest second.
"I mean, I'm 30, and you must be, what, 19?"
I nodded again. "I'll turn 19 next month."
"So you do know nothing could ever develop between us. I mean, it just wouldn't work." I couldn't believe we were having this conversation, and I wanted to dig right down into the floor and disappear faster than anything in the world. I think she saw how uncomfortable I had become, because she got off the desk, stepped toward me, and lay her hand on mine. What she said next stunned me.
"I do think you're quite cute," she said, and hearing those words through those lips turned me on like nothing had ever done before. There was nothing motherly or patronizing about it, it was straight-out flattery. She crouched down so her face was level with mine, and I could feel her breath when she spoke. Her fingers wrapped around my clenched hand. "I've often wondered what it would be like with a younger man." Her hand was now caressing mine, and I could feel myself becoming aroused. It ached but felt wonderful at the same time. She stood up and walked to the door. I watched the way her hips swayed as she walked, and for one crazy second I somehow knew that I was going to see her naked, touch her, make love to her that very afternoon. I pushed the thought from my mind. It was absurd, but I wanted it so badly. She reached the door and locked the bolt, then pulled down the small shade that covered the glass window near the top of the door.
"I think we'll keep this just between us, though, don't you agree?" she asked, and the way she stood with one hand coyly on her hip and the other on the little string holding the shade simply left me speechless. She took off her glasses and let them dangle between her fingers. I felt like the biggest, horniest fool in the world, but I was going to score with this woman if it was the last thing I did.
She walked back towards me and took a seat on her desk again. "It'd be a lot easier if you came closer," she said.
I still sat there, unable to move. Wanting to, but unable.
"It's okay," she said, patting the desk as an invitation for me to move forward.