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Almira, Part I

Posted by: Author: Age: 40 Posted on: 1 comments
1 likes views Category: Sex Stories General Tags: Male-Female, Sex Stories General, Panties
What a lovely present.

My Student, Almira The first time I saw her was when she came to my office the day before the first homework assignment was due. Well, of course, it wasn't the first time I'd seen her. I'd noticed her previously. Dark skin, deep olive skin, probably Mediterranean of some sort. I'd been curious enough to look her up online, too. The name 'Almira Rossini' seemed to clinch it: Italian ancestry. She was smallish, probably about 5'4", and maybe 100lbs or so. Very pretty. Pretty in the way sophomores are, you know? Young, but not illegal. It was mid-October, and not a normal, but not a terribly unusual, mid-October day. It was warm, and humid, with the wind blowing hard off the water and 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. She was there for a reason, and 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. So I soon found myself sitting almost next to her, Almira in a chair at the end of a low coffee table and me on a couch on the long edge of it, both of us leaning over to consider how she'd attempted to do one of the problems. It was when I looked up at her to see how she was receiving my criticisms that I saw her breasts, fully exposed, as she leaned over to write in her notebook. Her shirt had fallen in front of her, open, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were small, a B-cup at best, as I'd expected from what I'd seen of her clothed, and they seemed to be beautifully shaped. I tried my very best to keep my eyes off her tits, but I was utterly distracted by the beautiful sight just inches before me. I must have completely failed to register what Almira was saying to me, because she suddenly looked up, saying, "Professor Koch?" (It's pronounced "Cook".) Hoping she hadn't noticed where my eyes (and mind) had been, I quickly interjected, "Sorry, I'm just thinking!" and stood up as I tried my best to compose myself, moving toward the whiteboard to write something or other, hoping my suddenly erect cock wasn't visible through my pants. "I'm not sure that I understand exactly what you're asking. Can you say it again?" She did, carefully, and extremely intelligently, and I was able to answer her question with my front-side to the board, hiding the tent that otherwise would have been obvious. By the time I'd finished my explanation, the emergency was over, and I was again able to sit in my chair, facing her. I'd not noticed before---or perhaps it wasn't there to notice---but Almira's nipples were clearly very, very hard. I found that surprising, given the weather, which wasn't cold at all. Nor was her shirt thin, the sort of veil you'd expect to show off her teats, but a heavy knit that might have hidden a little bit of nipple here or there. I did my best to move my mind elsewhere, and looked up toward her face. But that did very little to help, as my eyes locked briefly upon hers, her gaze drilling into my brain. I felt like I was spinning, and quickly spun around to avert my gaze, and hide my once again bulging crotch. Right then, fortunately for me, Almira announced 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 then my thoughts of my face or cock 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 settle myself. A stroke of luck! The phone rang, and the departmental administrator engaged me in a typically boring conversation about some matter or other that lasted well past Almira's return. I was fully deflated by that point. And disappointed. Saying she had something she had to do, Almira quickly gathered her things and stuffed them into the small backpack she always seemed to carry with her. With a seemingly 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 pair of size small white silk thongs, in fact. From Victoria's Secret. 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 it 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 a minute 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, with me all the while imagining myself pumping her mouth full of my juice. * * * Almira was in class on Thursday, sitting in the back, 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 brown 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 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." "That's 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. "I didn't." "That's OK. It's not that important, really." And with that she turned, paused, murmured what I think was "OK, thanks", and turned again, winked at me, and finally left the office, with a quick "See you" on the way out. 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 Paul arrived. I opened the bottom drawer to my desk and yanked out the crap lying in the back, uncovering the old diskette box 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. * * * Almira sent me an email later that day. 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, before I'd even realized who was offering me the invitation. I'm sure I'd have come to my senses and accepted anyway, but not realizing saved me some angst. We met at my office. I'd dressed a little nicer than I usually would to teach, and she'd dressed a lot nicer than she ever did for class. A golden dress fell breezily off her left shoulder, cupping her small breast and caressing her slim hip before falling just past her knees, rising back up over her other hip and encasing her right shoulder in a flourish of silk completing the tempting circle at the center of her chest. It was clear enough that she wasn't wearing anything under that dress on top, and my already racing mind assumed she wasn't wearing anything under it on the bottom, either. The dinner itself was fairly uneventful, except for the odd flash of tit as she leaned over to eat, confirming, much to my delight, that she indeed wasn't wearing a bra. We talked about her background, and mine, and it was comfortable enough, without exactly being easy. The age difference was almost as obvious as my excitement would have been, had I had to stand. But I found her not only to be brighter than I'd supposed from the work she'd done for me but amusing and playful, as well. What a pleasure to meet a student who not only wasn't intimidated by me but who clearly enjoyed knowing that she had managed to turn the tables. She was in control, and she knew it, and liked it. There were all kinds of references, half real and half imagined, to masturbation. I felt as if she were going out of her way to use the word 'hard' on every possible occasion, though it wasn't as if she were emphasizing it. She was too subtle for that: very, very good at what she was doing. When the meal was over, we put on our coats, and she walked me to the door of her dorm in silence. As we reached the door, I turned toward her, only to find that she had already taken my hand in hers, saying, "I hope you have a very special evening". I meant to ask her what that meant but spent too much time puzzling about it before she smiled and walked away. It was only when I reached into my jacket and felt the unmistakably moist softness of her silk underpants that I understood. I made an instant decision to stop at the office on the way back to my car so that I could pick up the other panties I'd left there and masturbate at home with both pairs. But by the time I got to the office, even the very light friction generated by walking had me on the verge of orgasm, so I closed to door, kneeled down in front of the small trash can next to my desk, and furiously yanked my dick to orgasm in all of thirty seconds. As horny as I was, that wasn't about to stop me from masturbating again at home, with both pairs of panties, as planned. * * * I really had no idea what to make of these events. Obviously, Almira knew what she was doing. Or had some idea what she was doing, anyway. But I certainly couldn't afford to make any move in her direction myself. If she wanted to leave her panties in my jacket pocket, that was her business.

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