Naked and in my own bed, my mind wandering, my fingers exploring; I was imagining Mom. Images filled my imagination and very real feelings flowed through my senses.
My consciousness seemed to focus on one fantasy. We were at Rachel's pool; we were alone, just Mom and me.
"It was dark outside, the air was warm, Mom was wearing a small black bikini, I was wearing my tiny white one. Soft music filled the background. It seemed so real, I could even sense her favorite perfume, wildflowers, and just a touch of spices.
For the longest time I never noticed any conversation until she spoke in a soft, very quiet voice, "If I didn't know better, I would say this is very romantic and that you were planning to seduce me." There was a slight nervousness in her voice, but I could also detect subtle excitement as well.
"What makes you think that's not what I'm doing," I smiled using my most sexy voice.
I took her hand and pulled her towards me. We were virtually the same height and size, she could be my sister, even though there were just a little more than twenty years between us. Only inches apart, my arms around her waist, our bikini bottoms touching, and our boobs pressed against one another. She didn't protest or pull away.
I may have looked confident, but my heart was in my throat and I was surprised she couldn't hear it beating. I leaned towards her and our lips met, A jolt of electricity surged through us both, her moist lips touched and moved against mine, she tasted like strawberries, my tongue parted her lips, paused, and then boldly explored her mouth.
She melted against me, going for broke, I slipped my fingers down her firm tummy and into her bikini bottoms, rubbing her little shaved box, she was soaked ... our lips came together again, and I wondered how I tasted to her. Her tongue explored my lips and her fingers moved up, down, and around my body. Darkness slowly invaded my world as my body and hers came together even more."
Before I knew it, my alarm went off, the early morning breeze dissipated the sweet scent of arousal, and my sheets were soaked, again. A little groggily, I could hear her voice and two knocks on the door to wake me. I smiled and thought to myself, "Wow, if I could just make that dream a reality," taking a few extra minutes, I slipped my fingers into myself and let my eyes roll up into my head as I let the small tremors of a tiny orgasm ripple through the start of my day.
"Madison, Madison," a deep voice broke through my first dream and apparently into my second one as well. The sound of paper rustling and people starting to rise from their lecture seats made me realize with a start, that both had been dreams and I was actually in a lecture hall. I heard a few snickers and felt some disapproving eyes on me and some curious ones too.
"Madison, will you please see me after class for a few minutes?" the deep voice more commanded than asked.
"Fuck," I said quietly to myself, although I knew that getting caught was always a risk. I remembered with a smile the first time I had masturbated in class; it had been a darkened lecture hall during a particularly boring presentation and it had just been too tempting. I had worn a short skirt with no panties and it had been really intense. I had managed to stifle my whimpering and it made the class so much more exciting.
I managed to get away with it at least a dozen times before the first time I got caught, I had received a stern lecture from an older female professor after class which was followed by a glass or several of wine later that night and a sleepover at her house. She encouraged me from then on when I felt the need to make myself cum, to visit her office for a private meeting. Since then, we had three or four private counselling sessions a month.
Sometimes my classmates would catch me, none ever complained, and I am sure I ended up on several cell phone video clips, but not only could I not help myself, but each time I did it the orgasms were absolutely incredible and now I was doing it sometimes even without thinking about.
Still, I knew this professor had a reputation for being "no-nonsense," and a couple of the students around me whispered to me that I was in deep shit.
I knew before I even went to stand up that my crotch would be wet. Pantiless like most days the seam of my dark blue jeans rose deliciously between my thighs, pushing hard against my pussy and leaving a very sexy impression of my sex for anyone to see. Professor Stanley was waiting by the front of the class, surrounded by three or four students, one of them smiled at me, knowing full well why I was in trouble. David looked up at me from several rows away, smiled as well, shook his head, and headed for lunch.
Mr. Stanley, Ken, was in his late fifties, in very good shape, muscular with short-cropped gray hair. We had met in the student bar in my first year, he was older, sexy, and despite being married, he had fucked me in his Volvo in the bar parking lot that night and more or less regularly since then.
"Was the lecture a little dry Madison?" Mr. Stanley asked me after the last of the other students left us alone in the large hall.
"A little," I said quietly as he walked to the door and locked it from the inside.
"Maddy," this isn't the first time we have had to talk about you masturbating in class, your classmates might not all know what you are doing, but when I see five or six students watching you with your eyes closed, I know they aren't listening to me, hell I have a hard enough time paying attention to me when you close your eyes in class."
"Sorry, Mr. Stanley,"
"Ken, you know better, when we're alone, I am Ken," he said softer.
"Ken," I said and walked closer to him and I kissed him on the lips. He didn't try to push me away, he kissed me hard on the lips in return, his tongue parted my lips and I felt his hands moving everywhere at once.
"I was hoping we might have a little study time together today," he said quietly and used one hand to stroke my cheek. He kissed me again and I felt his hands moving down my body.
Inhaling, I felt his large hand between my legs, despite being a professor and an academic, he had big, powerful, and thick calloused hands like a bricklayer. He almost lifted me off the floor as I moaned softly in response to his fingers.
"Good girl, nice and wet," as his index finger slid up and back and forth in the indention in my tight jeans.
"No panties?"
"No sir."
"Strip for me Madison, take everything off, I want to see you naked."
Again, not a request.
"Yes sir."
Looking at him, looking and getting lost in his deep green eyes, I began. I slipped my sandals off, never breaking eye contact, my top was next, and he smiled, taking a moment to lightly pinch my growing nipples, my eyes rolled back and I moaned again.
An announcement came over the PA system, but neither of us noticed or even jumped. I let my top fall to the floor, and he continue to massage my boobs were free, I hadn't worn a bra this morning and knew my nipples would respond to the friction of my top and now stripping for Professor Stanley they were even bigger and now were about the size of large erasers.
The jeans were tougher, they were difficult to put on dry, and now with the crotch soaked, they were much harder to pull down, Ken helped me to roll them down my thighs, but this wasn't the first time I had stripped for him. This wasn't the first time we had done this; it was the first time in a lecture hall though.
Finally, they were around my ankles, and stepping out of them, I was completely naked and Ken was fully clothed, my body was tingling. This is what I lived for, every nerve ending in my body felt electric. He stopped for a moment, looked at me, and then smiled. He pulled me close again and kissed me even harder, his tongue seeming to dance with my tonsils, and my knees felt weak.
Ken was the kind of man who seemed to have a thousand hands, the nice thing was he knew how to use them and being with him felt like being with a dozen men. For the next several minutes every sensitive part of my body throbbed, shivered, and buzzed with even more energy thanks to Ken. I felt myself being lifted onto a table at the front of the lecture hall, laying on display, I imagined the room full of people, students, and professors all watching me get ravished, and I felt like I could cum just from that.
Ken knew what I would be thinking and knelt in front of the table, spreading my legs wide, inhaling my sweet scent, and then plunging his face into my pussy. He once said his wife didn't like sex, least of all oral sex; with me, I was the total opposite, I encouraged him to indulge, and he did, more than once I felt his hand covering my mouth as my moans and whimpering grew ever louder and louder.
Unconscious of time, a little tiny part of my mind did wonder how long lunch was, as if reading my mind, Ken stopped and I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper in the now quiet room, the only other sound was of my labored breathing and the overhead fans, outside I could he the muffled sounds of students and staff hustling about in the hallway. I closed my eyes and felt myself letting go forgetting about time and anyone else around us and giving myself to my desires and Ken.
I felt it. It was large and warm, the tip was circumcised and rounded on the end. I knew it was thick and wide. I felt it push against me, I felt my resistance and the pressure, I felt him push harder, more resistance, and then something gave way, and he entered me.
I could feel his pulse through the veins, still, more of him pushed inside me. He said I was tight, but I thought it was more due to him that I felt tight, he pushed, and I moaned, almost screaming, I was soaking wet and very well lubricated, but he was still very large. One inch, two, four, six, he seemed as wide around as he was long, I felt like I was being split in half, the pain more than balanced out by the pleasure of being so full.
"Oh, fuck Maddy, you feel so incredible," it sounded cliché, but I wasn't listening really anyway, the feel of someone inside me was always so powerful, nothing else mattered, the words came out in single sounds and incoherent syllables.
I moaned even louder, then I felt his balls slap against my skin, and then he withdrew and pounded me hard again, again, so many times I lost track. I knew time was an issue because he wasn't normally this rushed or rough, my body throbbed and convulsed, I could see the sweat on his forehead and felt my own sweat running down between my boobs.
I opened my eyes and looked at his, he was focused on something, and then I realized the clock, "Don't stop Ken, please don't stop, fill me up," he didn't reply, just moved his hips faster.
A bell sounded, yet he didn't stop, I knew students would start arriving soon for the next lecture, and someone with a key would be along if they found the door locked, Ken's hips were a blur, here I was naked being fucked by my professor, I was excited, and the thrill of getting caught was almost euphoric, Ken shuddered and then I felt it.
I wasn't disappointed, but I hadn't wanted it to stop, I was still throbbing, and my body felt used and very heavy. For me time seemed to slow down, for Ken, time seemed to accelerate, on one level I knew we had no time, but I didn't want to stop any more than I wanted to stop breathing.
