The first time I met her was when she came to my office, the day before our second homework assignment was due. I'd certainly noticed her before. Dark skin. Deep olive skin. Probably Mediterranean of some sort. Deep black hair, just past her shoulders, but thick, as if you could swim in it. She was small, probably about 5'2," and 100lbs or so. Very pretty, in the way sophomores are pretty. Young, but not illegal. Unethical, for me, to be sure, but not illegal.
I'd been curious enough to look her up in the course list. The name 'Almira Rossini' seemed to clinch it. Definitely Italian.
It was mid-October, and not a terribly unusual mid-October day, though it was a bit warmer than it might have been, and quite humid, with the wind blowing hard off the water and the seagulls floating all day above Harvard Square. Almira was dressed for the occasion, wearing a skirt that didn't nearly make her knees and a loose-fitting, if opaque, T-shirt. Pretty normal attire for a student.
Almira was at my office for a reason. She had some good questions, the kinds of questions I'm always happy to have from my students. Questions that deserved a lot of answering. She had done several of the problems in her notebook, so I had to move over closer to her to see her work. Almira was seated on an overstuffed chair along the short edge of a coffee table in the corner of my office; I sat on a love seat along the long edge; and now both of us were leaning over her notebook, which was perched precariously on the corner of the coffee table. I was scribbling some ideas on one of the pages when I looked up at her to see how she was receiving my comments. It was then that I saw her breasts, fully exposed. Her shirt had fallen in front of her, utterly open, and she wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were small, B-cup at best, as I'd expected from what I'd seen of her clothed, with dark nipples matching her skin. They seemed to be beautifully shaped.
I tried my damnedst to keep my eyes off her tits, but I was utterly compelled to look at the beautiful sight just inches before me. I apparently completely failed to register what Almira was saying to me, because she suddenly looked up, saying, "Professor Cook?"
Hoping that she hadn't noticed where my eyes (and mind) had been, I quickly stood up and tried as best I could to compose myself. I paced a bit, moved toward the white board as if to write something or other, the backed off, hoping my suddenly erect cock wasn't as visible through my pants as it was through my nerves. "I'm not sure I understand exactly what you're asking," I said, playing for time. "Can you say it again?" She did, carefully, and extremely intelligently, so I turned toward the board, hiding the tent in my pants, and wrote out a quick proof on the board. By the time I'd finished my explanation, the emergency was over, and so I was able to sit back in my desk chair, facing her. I was going to stay away from that couch.
Unfortunately, that didn't help nearly as much as it might. Almira's nipples were clearly very, very hard, and my brain quickly went searching for a reason why. It wasn't cold at all, outside or inside; no huge temperature differential, to light the high beams as she came inside. Nor was her shirt the thin sort of veil you'd expect to show off her teats, but a heavy cotton knit that you'd expect to hide a bit of nipple here or there. My eyes were not helping me. So I did my best to move my mind elsewhere, and forced myself to look up toward her face. But that didn't help either. Our eyes locked briefly, but long enough for her gaze to sink into my soul. I felt like I was spinning, so I went with it and quickly spun around in my chair, averting my eyes from hers.
Right then, fortune granted me a miracle, and Almira announced, with a cute giggle, that she needed to go to the bathroom and would be back in a moment. For once I was happy that the closest bathrooms weren't close at all, so I'd have another few minutes to gather my senses. Almira's tits, and my thoughts of my face buried between them, had taken almost complete control of both my mind and my body. It was all I could do not to stuff my hand down my pants. There was obviously no way I could function as her teacher at this time. I had to catch a grip. And then there was another miracle. The phone rang, and the departmental secretary engaged me in a typically boring conversation about some matter or other, one that lasted well past Almira's return. Long enough, anyway, to leave me fully deflated.
And disappointed. Saying she had something she had to do, Almira quickly gathered her things and stuffed them into the small, pink backpack she always seemed to carry with her. With a sudden "See you Thursday!" she was out the door, leaving me sitting in my chair and wondering what had just happened. My wonderment would only increase when I looked over where her bag had been to see a small white lump. A lump that, on closer examination, revealed itself to be a small, white, silk lump. A small white silk thong, in fact. The crotch of which was not just damp but soaked. Before I could so much as consider, let alone assimilate, the situation in which I found myself, I put that wet crotch to my nose and inhaled the scent of Almira's young pussy. My cock sprang immediately back to life, and I dropped to my knees, pulled my dick out of my jeans, and started fucking what I imagined to be Almira's tight little twat as I wrapped her panties around my cock. I doubt I lasted even thirty seconds before, with the vision of her naked tits before me, stream after stream of hot cum erupted into the smooth fabric that only minutes before had covered her sweet smelling pussy.
* * *
Almira was in class on Thursday, sitting in the front, as usual. Nothing seemed remotely out of the ordinary, and I might have forgotten entirely about what had happened two days before, except for the fact that I'd masturbated several times since thinking about it. I was so out of sorts that I'd made a point of wearing briefs to work that day, which I almost never do, just in case seeing Almira in class made me hard. Fortunately, the concentration required to lecture took my mind off her, and I didn't have that problem, though I did find it very difficult to keep from looking at her tits as my eyes scanned the classroom. I found myself wondering if I'd ever again see the lovely nipples at which I'd stolen too quick a gaze in my office.
When class was over, I left quickly for the bathroom, as I often do, my morning's coffee having completely made its way through me in the hour I'd been lecturing. Back at my office, I found Almira at my door.
"I'm sorry, Almira," I said. "I have to meet a grad student now, but if you...."
"Can I talk to you for just a minute?"
"OK," I said, "but we'll have to stop when he gets here."
"OK," she said, following me into the room and closing the door.
"Sit down," I said.
"I think I left something here the other day," she said, still standing.
Nearly choking, I sputtered a "What?" and tried my best to act causal. I don't think it worked.
"Did you find anything here after I left?"
"No," I lied, stuttering in my most unconvincing fashion. "I didn't."
"That's OK. It's not that important, really. Thanks." And with that she turned, paused, turned again, winked at me, and finally left the office.
I was shaking. She knew damn well that she'd left her underwear here, and she knew just as well that I'd found it. One might've thought that, having left her panties, she'd have just let them go. It's not like they were made of gold or something. Though, come to think of it, they were worth their weight in gold as far as I was concerned. I walked over to my door and quickly locked it, knowing I had only a moment to myself before the grad student in question arrived.
I opened the bottom drawer to my desk and yanked out the crap lying in the back, uncovering the ancient diskette box that I'd used to bury my treasure. But a knock at the door brought me back to my senses before I had a chance to go any farther.
* * *
After Paul left, I sat down to check my email, and what should I find by a note from Almira. Her dorm was holding their semi-annual student-faculty dinner the next night, and she was wondering if I'd be her guest. With my wife out of town, I had no other sort of obligation, and so I immediately wrote back and accepted.
