The Assistant

"And who can tell me why the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor? Not the reason in the textbooks, but the real reason. Anyone?" Adam Grey, Ph.D., Associate Professor of History at Albuquerque State University, had been teaching Introduction to Twentieth Century History for seven years now, and he could pick out the brightest and best students in only a week. But, this late in the semester, he had the best pegged. Of the 150 students in this class, there were only about a dozen that would go on to be history majors. All of the others were just getting a required liberal arts class out of the way.

One of the brightest students was Aimee Jameson. She always sat in the front row, had nailed her mid-term exam with a score of 98, and wrote several reports that Adam felt would have been outstanding for a graduate student in history, much less a sophomore. She showed great promise and Adam sincerely hoped she was planning on majoring in history. She also happened to be drop-dead gorgeous. Today she was wearing a light white pullover sweater with a deep v-neck and super tight blue jeans. Adam glanced at her trying not to stare at her large, perfect 19-year-old breasts. The tops of her golden brown melons were on display, and Adam had to be very careful not to become distracted while lecturing. Early in the semester he had found himself staring at her and realized that he had stopped lecturing to the class. He could not afford to repeat that embarrassing moment. But, nonetheless he thought, "I swear she is not wearing a bra. I think I can even see the outline of her nipples!"

Her hand shot up as soon as Adam looked out at the class. "Only Miss Jameson? No one else has a clue? Okay, I tell you what. Think about it over the weekend and write me a one-page answer. I'll see you next Monday." The sounds of groans filled the room. He literally had to shout to be heard over the din. "Oh! Before you go, there is one other thing." Another louder serious of groans erupted from the class. He thought, "They think I'm going to assign another chapter to read over the weekend."

"I've just been notified by the Smith and Hagar Foundation that my grant application for research into the Manhattan Project here in New Mexico has been funded. So, I have funds to hire a part-time assistant to help me with research. My secretary will do the typing; all you will have to do is help in the libraries. If you are seriously considering majoring in history, this would be a great opportunity to learn how to do the required research. If you are interested, please drop by my office, upstairs in room 4D1. I'm going to hire the first appropriate candidate, so if you're interested, hurry. Have a good weekend."

Adam purposefully took some time to gather his lecture notes, hoping to get a view of Aimee's butt as she walked out of the room. But instead, she walked up to him. "Dr. Grey. I'm interested in the assistant job," she said with that perky voice that drove him mad.

"Really? Although you're clearly the most interested in history of all the students in this class, I always assumed that...well, I thought that... uh, I thought you didn't need the money." Aimee was always well dressed and he had once seen her in the evening driving a brand new expensive sports car. "A Daddy's girl," he had thought. "Dad must be loaded for her to be driving a car like that!"

"Well, honestly," she admitted, "I totally don't need the money. You see, well...my parents died when I was 12 years old and they left me a lot of money, with the insurance settlement and everything."

"Oh. I'm very sorry," Adam said as he diverted his eyes down to avoid her stare.

"It's okay," Aimee replied. "That was a while ago and I've totally moved on with my life. Anyway, about the assistant position, can we talk more about it?"

"Do you have the time to talk right now?"

Aimee looked at her watch. "I don't have plans until later this evening."

"Well good then," he said, "let's go up to my office.

Adam made sure to be the perfect gentleman as he allowed Aimee to precede him out of the classroom. He admired the entire package. She was slightly over 5 feet tall with blond hair that fell to just above the middle of her back. Typically, she wore her hair in a ponytail high and tight on the back of her head, which excited Adam for reasons that were not entirely clear, even to him. Her piercing big blue, almost gray, eyes revealed intelligence, which was also very attractive to Adam. "Smart girls are a turn on," he thought, as he followed her out the door. "What a beautiful round athletic butt." He knew that she ran everyday, as he had seen her in the quad on many occasions with her MP3 player in one hand and a water bottle in the other. The fabric under her blue jeans swished back and forth. It was mesmerizing.

Oh, shit. I'm getting a hard on. Stop staring at her ass!

"So, Aimee, are you still planning on majoring in history?" he asked, trying to get his mind off of the cute co-ed.

"Yes, sir. I've always been interested in history. Especially American History."

"Really? Great!" Adam held open the door to the stairwell as Aimee scooted past him. Her butt was right at his eye level as he followed her up the stairs to the fourth floor. As they reached the fourth floor Adam said, "Turn left. My office is the last one on corridor D."

When they reached his office, Adam's secretary, Victoria Twinings, was sitting at her desk in the outer office. Actually, he shared Victoria with another full professor who had the office next to his, but since he only ever made cameo appearances, about twice a month, she essentially worked only for Adam. "Dr. Grey," Victoria said while eyeing Aimee from her feet to her face, "I need to go a little early today if that is alright with you."

"Of course, Victoria, no problem. Please turn off the light in your office and close the outer door when you leave. I'm going home right after I talk to Miss Jameson and I don't want a whole bunch of students sitting out here in your office ready to pounce on me when I'm done with her."

Victoria emitted a dutiful chuckle. She really liked working for Dr. Grey. He was the youngest tenured associate professor in the department and was very active. He published several papers and book chapters each year, which kept her busy. All of the other secretaries in the department seemed to never have anything to do but eat and get fat. Victoria looked good for 31, and she planned on staying that way. She also liked the way Dr. Grey looked. He was 36 years old, but had the body of a 26 year old. Occasionally, instead of heading to the gym, he would change into running shorts and a tank top in his office, and then run in the quad with the students. He had strong muscular legs and arms. She was dying to get a look at his chest, but had no idea how she'd ever work that.

"Thanks, Dr. Grey. You're the best." Victoria quickly grabbed her purse and lunchbox, clicked off the lights, and pulled the door shut behind her.

"Okay, Aimee, please sit down," Adam directed with his hand toward the chair in his office that sat in front of his desk. He plopped into his high back leather desk chair. "We need to start by having you fill out one of the standard student worker forms," he said as he pulled the form from the file drawer in his desk. "Although this position is paid for by grant funds, we are still bound by university rules. You can use the corner of my desk if you'd like."

Aimee stood, dug around in her purse, produced a pen and went to the corner of Adam's desk. She bent over from the waist, placed her elbows on his desk and began to work on the form. "Oh, goodness," Adam thought, "From this angle I can see all the way down her sweater to her bellybutton! Her breasts are even nicer than I imagined. Maybe if she shifts just a bit I'll even be able to see her nipples!"

Adam felt the blood rush to his dick. As it began to swell, he realized that it was not positioned very well and it would soon be painful to him and obvious to her. "Okay, dude, easy does it. If I can just shift it a little to the right." Ever so slowly, he moved his hand to his crotch and carefully adjusted himself.

"They're real you know?" Aimee asked without taking her eyes off the form.

"What?" he questioned. Oh, shit. Busted! "What are real?" Deny everything!

"My breasts. They're real. All the other girls in the house we share think they must be fake, you know, because I've got the trust fund and all. But, I'm totally blessed. Perfect boobs."

"Uh...I'm sure they are real. But, why would you even tell me that?"

"Because you were staring at them and I thought you might be wondering if they were real or not. Do you believe me? That they're totally real and all?"

"Yes, I believe you. Can we change the subject please?"

"I mean, most people don't believe me. I've had to let several girls feel them to prove that they're real."

The image of girls feeling Aimee's perfect breasts was more than Adam could take. His dick began to push against the fabric of his pants. Aimee noticed the bulge in his pants and pressed on, enjoying her little power play.

"If you don't believe me, I'll let you feel them, too."

"Uh...I'm sure that...uh...won't be necessary. Really, can we change the subject?"

"Here," she said, standing abruptly and walking around his desk. She placed her hands on her hips and positioned herself so that her breasts were only a foot or so from his face. "Go ahead, I really don't mind."

"But, Aimee, there are rules against professors having relationships with students," he protested. "I'm really not this strong," he thought to himself.

"I'm not talking about a 'relationship'," she laughed while making quotation marks in the air with her fingers. "All I said is that it was okay with me if you feel my breasts to make sure they're real."

"No! Really, Aimee, I can't. Did you know that I'm married?"

"Look, Dr. Grey, your secretary is gone, your office door and her outer office door are closed. We are here alone. I could say you felt my breasts, and there would be no one here to say you didn't. But, remember, that works both ways. You could feel my boobs and then totally deny it if I did try to report you, which I'm not." With that, she reached down to the bottom of her sweater forming an X across her chest with her arms and in one smooth motion, pulled the sweater up and over her head. Her perfect breasts bounced up, and then fell into place, her small erect nipples only a foot from Adam's face.

Without even thinking, he placed his hands on her flat brown stomach and slowly began to move his hands upwards. Aimee closed her eyes and opened her lips ever so slightly, leaning her head back. Adam's hands reached the underside of her breasts, as he lifted feeling the full weight of her heavy, full melons. He slowly allowed them to come back down to rest as he moved his fingertips up around her nipples, being very careful not to touch them. His fingertips on her breasts excited her, and her nipples began to grow even more erect, like two cigarette butts, they pointed out towards his face.

"Please, pull on my nipples," she moaned. "I can't stand it any longer."

Now it was Adam's turn to take control. "I thought I was determining if they were real, or not. Pulling on your nipples will not help." He then moved his hands back to her chest directly under her armpits and began to gently knead her firm breasts feeling for the telltale signs of silicon implants. Slowly, he worked his way under and around her breasts gently massaging them.

Then, abruptly, he removed his hands, sat back in his chair, and said, "Yes, ma'am, they're real alright."

At first Aimee was in shock, but then when she saw the smile on Adam's face she knew he was teasing her. "You are so mean," she protested with a sort of baby voice. With that she moved even closer to Adam, leaning in towards him.

Adam placed his hands gently on her tight butt and pulled Aimee closer to him as he sucked her left nipple into his mouth. He applied a little suction and then allowed here nipple to slip from his mouth slightly grazing it with his teeth. "Ohhhhhh, that feels so good," Aimee moaned, almost in a whisper. While working on her breasts, he kneaded her ass with his hands. Aimee whispered, "That's really nice," drawing out the word 'really.' Adam moved his face slightly and sucked the other nipple into his mouth. He brought his hands to her breasts and then began to gently tug on her left nipple with his fingers.

After about two minutes of serious work on her perfectly tanned tits, Aimee said, "Okay, now it's your turn." She reached down and loosened Adam's belt and then unsnapped his pants. As she lowered his zipper, his erect penis, clad only in the thin fabric of his boxer shorts, nearly leapt out of his fly. "Someone is ready to go," she said with mock surprise.

Adam lifted his butt slightly off the chair as Aimee pulled his pants and boxer shorts down to his ankles in one fast motion. Adam's full thick dick pointed up at the ceiling. "Very, very nice to meet you," Aimee said as she kneeled down between his legs. She grasped the base of his cock and pulled it toward her waiting mouth. The head of his cock slid between her full lips as she looked up at Adam. They locked eyes as she allowed his cock to slide into her warm, wet mouth. Slowly, with her tongue pressed against the underside of his penis, she began to work her mouth up and down his shaft.

Aimee had perfected her technique of giving head when she was 18. After the death of her parents, her mother's youngest sister, Michelle, and her husband, Mike, had taken her in and adopted her. At the time, Michelle and Mike had been newlyweds and were not exactly ready to have kids, especially a 12 year old, in the house. Aimee had heard them on several occasions in their bedroom moaning and groaning. She wasn't quite sure, but she thought they were probably having sex, whatever that really was. She had spent hours on the Internet looking at the free homepages of porn sites. She saw men with really big penises putting them in every hole that a woman had, and the women always had pained looks on their faces. "Could that really be what sex was all about," she had thought. "If so, it sure doesn't look like much fun."

One night when she had barely turned 18, and was supposed to be asleep, a loud motorcycle had driven past the house and she had awoken with a fright. As she lay there in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to get her heart to stop pounding so she could go back to sleep, she heard her aunt and uncle downstairs, not exactly moaning and groaning like they often did behind their closed bedroom door, but definitely not just watching television. She snuck out of her room and into the hallway. When she got to the banister of the balcony that overlooked the living room, she peaked around the corner to see that her uncle was slouching on the couch, totally naked and that her Aunt Michelle was kneeling between his legs with Uncle Mike's penis in her mouth. She was slowly working her mouth up and down his shaft and Uncle Mike had his head back and his eyes closed. As she watched, Aimee started to get that familiar tingling feeling in her vagina that she got when she looked at Internet porn. Aimee had taken to sleeping in one of her uncle's big tee shirts and she didn't wear panties because she liked to masturbate before going to sleep each night. As she watched her aunt slowly suck her uncle's penis, Aimee reached her hand down to her vagina and began to rub on her clitoris. As she continued, she started to work faster, applying more pressure. Without even thinking, she moaned as she came. When her senses returned, she was mortified to see that Aunt Michelle and Uncle Mike were staring at her on the balcony.

"Aimee, sweetheart, please come down here," Aunt Michelle said. "It's alright, sweetheart, we're not angry."

Aimee begrudgingly came down the stairs, avoiding looking at her naked guardians.

"Aimee, we're very sorry that you saw us making love, sweetheart. But, it is important to know that what you saw is natural for two loving people."

"Okay," Aimee barely got out.

"Are you okay? Since you saw us, do you have any questions for us? I mean, I don't want you to be scarred for life or anything."

"Well, I do have some questions," Aimee admitted. The girls in the locker room at school had all kinds of stories to tell, few of which Aimee thought were real.

"Okay, then, let's have them," said Aunt Michelle as she looked up at her husband. He looked a little flustered to be sitting in front of his wife's niece with a raging hard on.

"First of all, I know that women sometimes do that to men with their mouths. Why?"

"Well, because if it is done well, it feels really good to the man. And, by the way, if a man does it really well to a woman, it feels good to her, too. It's called 'oral sex,' but typically goes by different names. When a woman gives oral sex to a man, it's typically called 'giving head' or 'a blowjob'."

"Yeah, I've heard of that before...I mean in the locker room and all."

Michelle inquired, "So, Aimee, I take it that you have not made love to a boy yet?"

"No!" Aimee said with a little more force than she had intended. "I mean, not that I don't want to or anything. I totally think of boys all the time. But, I just have not met the right one yet."

"It's okay, Aimee. There is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I'm sure you'll meet the right boy and you'll know when he is the right one."

An awkward silence fell in the room. "Aunt Michelle, do you think that you could teach me how to give a man a blowjob?"

"Well, Aimee, uh...I'm not so sure that is a good idea," Michelle said looking at her husband for support. Mike just shrugged his shoulders to indicate that the ball was clearly in her court on this one.

"Why not? Lots of the girls at school are already having sex. Or, at least they say they're having sex."

"Well, sweetheart, we're your legal guardians. I'm not sure that it is such a good idea."

"Yeah," Aimee persisted, "but you're not my real parents and I'm not even really related to Uncle Mike, except by marriage and everything. It's not like incest. And, anyway, it's not like you are forcing me to do it or anything. It was my idea. Plus, I'm eighteen now!"

Michelle looked at Mike for support, but he said, "Sounds logical to me."

Michelle wasn't so sure. But, Aimee pressed on, "Pleassssssse."

"Well...I don't know."

"Pretty pleassssse."

Michelle looked back up at Mike. "She did say the magic word, Michelle, twice." Mike held up two fingers to press home the point.

"You're a big help," she said, slapping his thigh. "Alright, sweetheart, but I'm still not so sure this is a really good idea. And, you can't tell anyone. I'm sure we'd go to prison if this ever got out."

"Promise!" Aimee exclaimed as she hurried toward the couple on the sofa. She kneeled down next to her aunt with an eager, appreciative smile on her face.

"Okay, Aimee, first you need to get comfortable." Michelle reached down and pulled the tee shirt off of Aimee before she knew what happened. For a moment Aimee was embarrassed to be naked in front of her uncle. Her breasts were perfect, and Mike soaked them in with his gaze. She had a shaved vagina that even her Aunt had not seen. After a few seconds of Uncle Mike eyeing her tight, tan body, she quickly relaxed and gave her full attention to her aunt.

"Okay. First, there are a few things you need to know. Your Uncle Mike has a very nice cock. It is about 8 inches long, which is much longer than average. Most men average about 4-5 inches despite what you might see on the Internet or read in magazines. It is also nice and thick, but not too thick. Some women like thick cocks, but I find them uncomfortable. Second, it is very sensitive, especially here." Michelle pointed to the underneath of Mike's penis at the base of the head. Aimee moved closer to her Uncle to get a good look at what her aunt's perfectly manicured fingertip was pointing at. "Third, when a man comes...Aimee, do you know what I mean by that?"