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Thamesdown Adult Dating Story
Writer's Block
Lyn couldn't concentrate. She stared at the handout for her lecture, Short Nonfiction Writing, with the topic for the week - Metaphor - ugh - without really reading any of the words. They were going to spend the next two hours, these 70 students, being lectured to about examples of metaphor. Why did she ever decide to take this class? The professor began the lecture by joking about some of the common mistakes people were making in their sentence structures. "I know they probably didn't teach you that in high school," he quipped in his boyish tenor, "but this is Dupont University. You can't become a writer if you don't let go of all the bullshit you were supposed to stick to. They're not rules; they're guidlines. Now, metaphor can be incorporated easily into your sentence rhythms..."She watched him pace around the front of the lecture hall. She liked the way his dark green button-down shirt fell loosely over his torso. He had the face of a real nerd but the body of a swimmer. As he kept talking he turned around to face the board and she felt a surprising twinge of interest at the way his Levi's hugged his ass. So he's got a babyface, but an awesome body under it, she thought. I wonder if he wears boxers or briefs. Probably boxers. No, but the jeans are so fitted, maybe boxer-briefs. He's too relaxed to be a tighty-whiteys kind of guy.
His eyes always flitted over students in the class as he lectured, trying to engage people and ensure that he had their attention. Now, for the first time, she was engaged. His eyes briefly met with hers and her stomach fluttered, sending a twinge to her groin. He looked away. Was that actually a look? Or did he even see her? Was he looking without seeing, the same way she stared blankly at the reading samples?
Suddenly sound returned to her ears. "You know, I graduated from college over 20 years ago," he was saying, "when drugs were a little more popular..." People chuckled. Lyn wasn't laughing though - she'd thought he was in his mid-30s! This put him over 40. God, that's weird. And he's got a wedding ring. He's probably got kids. But he looks so YOUNG, and he keeps getting sexier, the more I look at him...
Lyn's mind started to wander. She wondered when his office hours were, what his office looked like, if there was a big, shiny desk... No! No, stop it, she thought, I'm being silly. Pay attention. And she tried, for the next hour and half, to do that, but she couldn't get her eyes off Professor D- let's call him Will in my head, she thought, by his first name- Will's gorgeous ass, nor her mind out of his office... his dark, private, sexy office.
As she was walking out of the lecture hall with so many other students past him, the impulse suddenly seized her and she stopped in front of - Will. "... Did you really graduate from college over 20 years ago?" she asked incredulously. She felt herself blushing.
He grinned mischievously, seeming to notice her for the first time. "Why, how old did you think I was?"
"No, that's embarrassing, how old are you really?"
"No, seriously, tell me how old you thought I was. I'm curious!" His eyes were ablaze. She couldn't stop looking into them.
"Um... thirty-six?" She knew that was a conservative estimate. Earlier in the semester she had been thinking more like 33.
He leaned casually against the podium. "I'm forty-two."
"Wow."
"I like that you thought that, though."
"Um... anytime..." She was so embarrassed she wished she hadn't stopped at all.
"What's your name?" She still had his full attention, surprisingly. Up close the roundness of his face and the glasses were handsome and youthful.
"Lyn."
"Well, Lyn, you should come see me in my office hours if you have any other questions."
"Sure thing."
"Bye now."
She walked away with an odd feeling of victory, but also a sense of burning uncertainty and nervousness - had he just come on to her? Would he have reacted the same way toward any other student? Her nipples were hard. She squirmed and tried to get her sweater to bunch over them a bit so they wouldn't show. The walk home was desperately long, and as soon as she closed the door behind her she fell onto the bed and massaged herself into a desperately intense orgasm.
*****
That Thursday he had office hours, she discovered on the class website. She shouldn't come at the beginning, because then there would be people waiting. No, she should show up in the last five minutes, make sure she got in there at the very end, and then pretend she'd been waiting a long time so Will would feel obligated to stay an extra few minutes and talk to her about ... last week's revision assignment. Right. She'd had major disagreements with her writing tutor about this one, and she felt she could defend it to him. Oh, but he was so goddamn smart. How would she talk to him without feeling embarrassed by her own intellectual inferiority?
Lyn was too excited and nervous not to go. She brought all the course materials she could find around her room, and began the march down to the Smith Building, where his office was on the third floor. She forced herself to walk at a leisurely pace, but her mind was racing inside. What if he was actually attracted to her? Did she really want this? Was she going to try anything? What if HE tried something?
There was one student waiting when she arrived outside Smith 315. The time dragged on forever as the last student came walking out looking pouty, and this next one sounded like he was a real slow talker. God, I'm so horny it's embarrassing, she thought as she shifted in her chair, her panties damp with anticipation. I don't know what I'm going to say. I wonder if there's some subtle hint I can slip into our conversation about how sexy he is. But that's too dangerous if he's not into it.
Finally Mr. Slow McTurtleson shuffled out the door, and she was the only one left. This floor of Smith was empty at this hour; all the other professors had gone home and it was getting dark. She took a breath and walked in.
The room was a lovely dark wood with hundreds, maybe thousands of books lining the shelves on either side of the room. There were two cushy armchairs angled in towards ... the - most - beautiful - huge - empty - desk she had ever seen. Before she could start fantasizing about being flat on her back on top of it, Will spoke. "Hey - Lyn, is it? Good to see you. Come sit down." He gestured to the armchairs. She sat in the blue one. It was oh so comfortable.
"I came to talk about the last revision paper we had. My tutor and I are disagreeing big time."
"That's a normal problem. Would you read it aloud to me?" She hadn't expected this. Her writing was very personal, and sometimes difficult to read aloud. This particular assignment detailed an attraction to a guy who worked at a cream puff shop. Could this get any more embarrassing? This whole thing was a bad idea. But she couldn't say no. She took out the paper.
"Okay... here goes..." She read the one-page document as sensitively as she could. After the paragraph break in the middle she glanced up and was startled to find that Will had repositioned himself, sitting on the front of desk as opposed to in the chair behind it. She swallowed and trembled, getting wetter as she continued reading, imagining his writer's hands touching her...
"You have a really good sense of rhythm," he said when she finished, "but sometimes you have these gems of phrases that you just let go a bit. Do you know what I mean? Like with the bit about the back of his neck."
She was quivering but couldn't take her eyes off his. "Yes, I could hear that when I read it aloud. I hadn't realized it before."
"However, I wish your tutor would have recommended my reading it, because it's really much better than some of the ones that the tutors submitted to me this week. I'll get in touch with her about it. That deserved better than she gave it."
Okay, so things were done. It was the moment of truth. If Lyn stood up, she would be a foot away from his face. But he wasn't moving, nor did he look like he wanted to discuss the paper any further. So she swiftly stood. There they were, face to face, and she could feel him breathing and he wasn't moving. Without saying a word, he stood up from the desk and circled around her - she backed up with each step - so that she was the one now in front of the desk, and he was facing her. Oh God, she could feel the edge of that huge desk right against the small of her back. He was so close she could see her reflection in his glasses, which he suddenly took off and put aside.
"Do you want me, Lyn?" The seduction in his voice melted her and she had to restrain herself as her jeans rubbed again her swollen pussy. The words came out without any interference from her brain.
"Oh, yes."
He grabbed the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up onto the desk, holding onto her legs so their pelvises touched. She could feel him getting hard beneath the Levi's. She had never wanted anything more in her life, regardless of the professor status, the 42 years, the wedding ring. As though magnetically drawn together their lips suddenly touched and fireworks exploded in her groin. His lips were soft but demanding, controlling, wet and his tongue tasted so good in her mouth... she kissed back hard. He ground against her in a slow rotation. Her clitoris was burning for attention. She found her hands wandering up to his collar and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. She moved to kiss his neck and he moaned slightly, which only heightened her passion. His hands glided around her torso, gripping her waist and then sliding up under her shirt to her breasts. The way he touched them made her feel like they were more luscious and soft than they had ever looked to her.
He removed his hands, pulled back and kissed her lips again, then lifted her shirt off from the bottom, tossing it on the carpet. Lyn hadn't ever expected things to get this far, but subconsciously she had decided to wear the black lace-bound bra - a good decision, she thought for an instant - and he was cupping her breasts, pulling them out, leaning down to kiss them and suck on her nipples. She leaned back, holding herself up by her elbows on the desk, and sighed with pleasure. Oh but now he was kissing a trail down her stomach, and she knew what was coming - she could barely keep still for the trembling anticipation - he unbuttoned, then unzipped her fly - she could feel his breath on her - then her pants were being pulled down, her black lace underwear down too, and suddenly his tongue - his strong, witty, intellectual tongue - was weaving itself in and out of her pussy and over her clit. A surprisingly generous move for a professor, she thought, smiling to herself, then moaning, flat on her back now. Just like she'd imagined. The smooth wood of the desk added to the sensation as Will continued to lick her pussy, speeding up, slowing down, her juices flowing freely and hot. She had no control over herself; the pressure was building she was going to come oh god the wet tongue and the gorgeous blue eyes and the desk oh and she was coming so hard, she felt herself contracting so hard her body shook and she cried out, suddenly slapping a hand over her mouth for fear of being heard.
"It's okay. They've all gone home," she heard breathily from below her. She pulled herself up to meet him as he stood. Their lips met and they kissed furiously - she tasted herself and shuddered in ecstasy. Her hands wandered down to the huge bulge in his jeans, and he giggled a bit - that boyish side that had almost disappeared. Without leaving his lips she undid his belt, unzipped his fly, slid down his jeans. Glancing down, she burst out laughing, leaving the kiss for a moment.
"What? What's so funny?" He was trying to laugh along but was clearly a bit put off.
"Oh! It's just that... I knew you'd be a boxer-briefs kinda guy." This placated him and he exhaled with pleasure as she ran her hand over his ... enormous ... cock. It must be eight and half inches! she thought to herself. I am the luckiest girl in the world today. She pulled down his dark green boxer-briefs and stared at his beautiful, hard cock. It was truly amazing. She had to have it inside of her. She kissed him again and their tongues mingled with an almost familiar feeling. He put his hand behind her head and started to lean over, laying her gently down on the table, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck, her breasts. His cock brushed against her throbbing pussy. The tip of it slid in and out; he was teasing her. She cried out angrily and he didn't wait any longer - he slammed into her with full force.
She had never had a cock that big before, and at first the pain was surprising. She was being divided in half; heat was searing through her pelvis, but as he continued to thrust in and out it became an addiction. The pain wasn't really pain. It was the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced. His cock filled her up completely. Fragments of thoughts moved about in her head, that this was her professor, that she might never have sex this good again in her, that she LOVED HIS COCK. She was sprawled out on this desk, the sweat from her bare back making her damp, and he was now standing and thrusting into her faster, faster, hitting her G-spot - she felt her pussy contracting around him as he penetrated her, a feeling she'd never successfully achieved on her own before, and as she felt him growing, getting harder, she knew in an instant that she would come again.
All of a sudden Will gasped and they exploded together, the hot white cum filling her and spilling out as he slid out and in and out again, and her body shaking on the desk with the intensity of a new kind of climax. Cum dripped down the insides of her thighs. Her eyes were closed, lying on this desk, and she thought she must be dreaming. No one has sex this good. She could barely catch her breath. Will lowered his torso down on top of hers. She ran her fingers up and down his back, down to that gorgeous ass - which was as wonderful to the touch as it had been to her eye in class that week.
They lay there for several minutes, exchanging the occasional soft kiss or touch, too tired to get up. When Will finally did stand there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn't been there before. "I never, ever thought this would actually happen," he said, pulling up his boxer-briefs and jeans.
"Me neither," echoed Lyn. "Wait... did you even know who I was before this week?"
"I didn't know your name, but I definitely recognized you, if that's what you're asking. You're so beautiful it's hard not to notice you."
Lyn wanted to burst. It was too much. "I never really saw you for what you are until this week's lecture. I don't know what came over me. I just... couldn't concentrate because I kept thinking about you." She stood up and started to put her clothes back on. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked at her with the same intense, mischievous look he had had that day in lecture. "I don't want this to be it. I want to get to know you."
"I'm flattered, and of course I want to get to know you, but how on earth are we going to do that? This is... well, no one can know except us."
"I know. We'll find a way. I'll be in touch. Check your e-mail."
She was putting on her sweater. She couldn't wait to hear from him. "I will."
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