When I finished up my Master’s, the pomp and circumstance of graduation was the least exciting happening on my mind. I was just glad to be fucking done. So while grad school graduation was a departmental requirement, my stomach wasn’t filled with butterflies, I wasn’t really saying goodbye to any educational friends, and I wasn’t misty eyed over the prospect of my future.
Alright, fuck that, I was definitely a little emotionally fearful over the fork in the road that was pursuing a PhD or entering the professional arena. I had given myself that weekend to go on an alcoholic bender and just relax following one last arduous semester of teaching and research. As every undergrad and their mother threw their caps into the air, I was just glad that whatever small talk I was forcing myself through with my fellow higher learning compatriots was whittling away. My knockoff polo was itching on my neck, and my jeans were…well…jeans and uncomfortable. Perhaps I should have went through the extra effort of dressing up. That seemed to be what every undergrad did.
There was at least, some kind of hedonistic solace in that, to see sorority girl after sorority girl eagerly unbutton their gown to show off whatever nice dress was in fashion for them. Tight, taught legs and plunging necklines were on full display and all the Title IX warnings in the world couldn’t spur me away from drinking those views in. I rationalized the fact that I was no longer employed by the college with the additional fact that I had to get all of this “into sexy students (or former students)” stuff out of the way in case I really did want to go after that PhD. Ha. D.
Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to do anything with them. As I started to meander through the parting crowd of students, my eyes shifted forward to lead me in the direction of the exit. There was the occasional chest-to-to back touching that was commonplace in deep crowds, and I even found myself platonically placing a hand on the smalls of backs both male and female.
Whatever I had to do to keep from trampling anyone. My hand lingered in once place out of my own volition sometime later, and I was forever happy at the turn of fate.
After snaking fingertips across the back of another student’s robe, I felt soft fingernails dig into my rest, clutching it tightly. It was way more than just some random spark of contact, and as I turned in the direction of whoever started to tagalong I felt a sharp voice raise itself over the crowd.
“Prof!” a female voice yelled, “holy shit!”
I could have went through the mental gymnastics in my head to deduce just who had recognized me, but I wasn’t RDJ’s Sherlock Holmes. In a department full of grey-haired formal tenured doctors, hard-assed grad asses always did their best to follow suit. But I bucked trends left and right, and maintained a pretty casual speaking relationship with my students in any given semester. So whoever was yelling really could have been any of the multitude of girls I had taught over my last three years, but I smiled as my eyes settled for the first time in a long time on Annabelle.
Red lips pursed a smile in my direction before giving way to a bright grin. Rosy cheeks were layered under curly brown hair, and before long I found myself staying put in Belle’s chestnut eyes. They were certainly just as much of a trap as they were during my first semester. I was probably slack-jawed, gaping in her direction like some shocked lottery winner, and as my mouth worked to speak, she followed up her exuberance.
“It’s me…Anna? I was in your first Comp class?” her button nose scrunched as she furrowed her brow, almost pleadingly settling her eyes on mine. Her purple painted fingernails kept a firm grip along my wrist, only loosening when I pulled away to cover the back of her hand with my palm.
“Of course I remember you!” I finally responded, “you were my best student that semester!”
She was probably the best student I had ever had, and as she pulled me in for a warm, nice-to-see-you-again hug, my mind rifled through memories of her inquisitive gestures and earnest charitable questions which both got me through a rocky first semester of lecturing. The mix of lilac and green apple scents I had almost forgotten rushed up my nostrils for the first time in the longest as she dipped her head against my chest.
“That’s sweet of you to say!” she replied joyously, stepping back out of our hug and placing a hand on my forearm. We gave each other cursory onceovers, and I’m sure, naturally, mine of her was a lot more interesting. Like her classmates, Annabelle had quickly unzipped her gown to showcase a brilliantly classy red dress, which she was absolutely rocking.
“To be honest yours was one of the favorite classes I ever took for my minor!” she added, tapping her fingertips on my arm, “you were so much friendlier of a teacher than anyone else I ever took,”
The way she gripped my arm could have burnt holes in the material of my gown. For whatever reason that was true. I pulled it away to absentmindedly scratch my head, and she ended up nervously twiddling her thumbs.
“What can I say?” I posited, “All of my favorite teachers I ended up becoming friends with after undergrad.”
I swear I meant that only as some personal anecdotal testimony, some metaphor to elucidate how I thought it would be the most effective teaching strategy, but Belle’s lips quickly turned into a smirk, as she narrowed her eyes against mine.
“You seem like you’d be a fun man to be friends with, professor,” her tongue escaped her mouth long enough to wet her lips, and knowing what I know now, she probably could have gotten away with a casual lip bite, but she just looked down at her thumbs before up at me. A strand of brown hair snuck across her forehead and I badly wanted to move it out of the way. But as it stood it was an arrow pointing downwards over collarbones to a modestly plunging neckline. Now I was biting my own lip.
She absentmindedly moved the strand out of the way as I hobbled together some kind of answer. The crowd around us had been ebbing and flowing for a while, and their cacophony was almost reaching critical mass. Annabelle stepped towards me, the tips of her high heels flirting with those of my Chuck Taylors.
“Are you doing anything special to celebrate getting your Masters?” she placed her head parallel to mine and asked. Another crash of the crowd found her arm up on my shoulder. One of mine shot out to lightly tug on the outside of her jacket.
“It’s really not that big of a deal to me,” I breathed into her ear, “probably will just grab some beers and kick back tonight. You?”
She shuffled back and smiled directly at me once more.
“Maybe doing something with my parents, but not a lot of my family have shown up. So that sucks I guess. You’re more than invited-,” she sort of rambled out.
“That’d be pretty weird, don’t you think? Former professor showing up to meet your parents?” my crass humor probably came off pretty dry at this point, but Belle lovingly rolled with the punches.
“I thought we were becoming friends!” she laughed. Maybe it was my own antisocialism, or that looming ghost of Title IX, but I gave a halfhearted laugh back and willed myself to step away.
“Have fun Belle,” I said curtly. Her face flushed for the smallest of seconds, and she finally bit her lip and nodded affirmatively.
I was a couple of beers in when I decided to meander out onto the balcony of my fourth floor apartment. Everything was neatly packed up, save for a twelve pack in the fridge and some shitty couch that probably hosted a few too many illicit escapades. Not mine, but I bought it dirt cheap. I had a habit of taking pulls of bottles while people watching, and that was much more fun to do while ingesting alcohol.
Speaking of, the bowling alley across the street was a notorious haunt of mine to watch; late night almost-athletic feats always mixed well with whatever beer the townie jaunt had on tap. Of course, this was still a Sunday afternoon, and the tail end of the school year meant a few less cars in the parking lot. That day it was notably sparse. As I polished off another beer a streak of red begged my attention as the doors of the alley were thrown open.
Annabelle padded out, seemingly angrily. Her robe was gone, which was something I was thankful for, and the olive skin of her legs contrasted perfectly with the crimson of her dress. She wiped away at her eyes as she turned in the direction of a pair of older folks leaving the alley as well. I was pretty sure they had to be her parents, but I ended up focusing on the curve of her behind, lusciously trapped in her elegant dress. That lack of a graduation robe really did wonders. The dress classily ended right above her knees, but goddammit there was some hidden beauty there. Following a brief discussion with the older pair, Belle halfheartedly hugged them as they hopped into a truck and left her arms crossed, presumably angry in the parking lot. She waved goodbye before crossing her arms disappointedly and looking towards the ground. Or her feet, which were probably breathing better in flats. As she reached into the front of her chest, my eyes perked up as my mind admitted an “of course,” when she pulled out her cell phone.
“Fuck it,” I thought as I took another swig of beer. I leaned over the balcony intent on interrupting whatever arrangement she was probably about to make.
“Hey friend-o!” I shouted faux-lamely. Belle looked around, searching for the greetings before looking up and shading her eyes with her phone. Immediately her disposition turned into a smile I was more than happy to provide.
“Professor! That is a…not so shitty view you have for yourself!”
“It definitely is pretty great right now,” I admitted under my breath. “I’d like to go ahead and invite you to my graduation party!” I offered theatrically. She shook her head out of surprise, smiling, before throwing a thumbs up and padding across the street.
“You’re much shorter than I remember,” I said as I opened the door for her. She punched my chest playfully as I let her in to my almost former bachelor pad.
“Fuck you,” she laughed out as her gaze wafted over my massive amount of boxes.” My eyes settled on the small of her back as I headed in the direction of the fridge.
“All I really have is beer…but since you’re not my student anymore that’s probably okay,” I offered absentmindedly.
“And if I were your student?” she asked matter-of-factly as she settled onto the armrest of the couch.
“We’d have to keep a secret,” I offered up quietly. As I took the cap off the beer and offered it to her, her chestnut eyes covered me entirely.
“I’m good at keeping secrets,” she admitted, pursing her lips around the bottle and dipping her head back. The skin of her neck was a tract of lovely land I would have done anything to homestead at that moment, but I just took a matching sip and meandered towards the doorway to the balcony.
“Were those your parents?” I asked casually, starting at towards the evening sky.
“Yup.” She added dryly, sliding off the armrest into the couch itself.
The material of her dress hiked up just enough for a flash of upper thigh to catch my attention. Annabelle tightly kept her legs shut, taking sips of the beer periodically and holding the bottle with two hands right on the edge of her dress. I was weak.
“They made up excuse for a shit…sorry…crap load of my family not being able to be here today,” she shook her head, as her cheeks reddened around another chug of beer.
“Don’t apologize,” I said almost immediately.
She cheekily responded with a “yes, sir,” but I was already following up that statement.
“That’s a shitty thing to do. I could never put a kid through that. Hell, I could never put a student through that,” I felt my fists clench in some kind of representation of a passive aggressive lust for justice.
“Well,” Belle finished off her beer, “you did seem to genuinely care for us.” She smiled in my direction.
“Some more than others,” I said a bit too quickly. She just held my gaze before setting her empty bottle on the floor. She elegantly smoothed out her dress and stood up in one motion, licking her lips and focusing on me once more.
“If it’s cool I’m gonna grab another beer. Want one too?” she offered sweetly. I nodded my head, as my eyes held focus on her adventure towards the fridge. Almost methodically she threw open the fridge and bent over at her waist to grab a pair of cold ones.
“Christ,” I thought to myself, pulling on my collar as my eyes hungrily traveled up her taught legs. Her tight thighs made me so fucking weak, and the way her dress hugged her ass was genuinely the prettiest sight I had seen lately. I needed air, bad.
I meandered out onto the balcony before she could catch me staring, and she floated out to join me, pressing her small form against my side as she offered up my beer. We toasted absentmindedly before mirroring each other’s sips. As our elbows wrestled on the rain and settled together, I smirked at her.
“Not to toss myself under the bus too much, but you have to admit spending time with a former professor on your graduation evening is probably less than ideal in comparison to…I don’t know…some end of college rager?”
She smiled, and looked out into the shitty.
“If I spent my evening getting drunk somewhere other than here, I’d end up spending my night with someone I probably wouldn’t want to see in the morning.”
That certainly meant a fucking lot. Especially considering she turned her eyes onto my again, nudging my leg with hers.
“Besides,” she took another pull, “I haven’t had a habit of doing especially wild and crazy things with my college nights.”
“Oh?” I held her gaze as I worked on my bottle.
“Hey, passing your comp class required a lot of dedication!” she slapped my arm and finished her beer.
“I’ll have you know, you were far and away the top student that semester, so your efforts made me pretty happy,” I ended up finishing my beer as well, unaware as to the implication of that saying. Belle read between the lines for us both, though.
“So professor,” she angled her body towards mine, her chest rising and falling with the gravity of the situation, “It made you happy when I was on top?” she managed to breath out the rest of the phrase as she stepped ever so closer to me. I took a deep breath as I realized her finger tips were drumming on my forearm again, and this time my hand fell directly onto her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin over the soft material of the dress.
“Look at you, inferring as always,” I offered up.
“Just trying to make you proud, Professor,” the title rolled off her tongue like honey as a strand of her brunette curls fatefully wrested its way onto her forehead for a second time that day.
Wordlessly I reached up to move it out of the way, sliding my hand down her cheek and grazing her lips with my thumb. They pursed as it passed my, a sharp intake of breathe escaping her perfect mouth. As my hand gently rested around the back of her neck, I pulled her face up towards mine and our lips finally crashed together. Her lipstick still carried a taste of the strawberry lip-gloss
I had a habit of fawning over during our one semester together in the classroom. She moaned out as our lips eagerly began to wrestle, and her body tightly pressed against mine, eager for any kind of continued contact. I felt her nails dig into my arm as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss me harder and harder, and she bit down on my bottom lip after a while, smiling into another rough kiss. I returned the favor, before wrapping my hands in curls and pulling her back, relishing her moan of pain and pleasure as I dove my lips and teeth against her neck. Her hands crawled over my back and traveled through my hair, keeping me close as she offered her neck to me. She let out soft curses and breathes as I trailed kisses down her collarbones onto the top of her swelling breasts.
A hand of mine roved up to squeeze and paw at an orb as I hungrily laid waste to the other, and she paused her dexterous assault on my hair and neck to pull the straps of her dress down, setting the material under perky, hard tipped tits. Her nipples tasted like a sweet counterbalance to the sheen of sweat on her skin, and I was quickly swelling in my jeans. Her hands fumbled with the buttons of my polo and I shook out of it only to re-assault her tits.
“Where….does this…fall…on…crazy memories?” I said between mouths of neck and tits.
“It’s…at the top…of my list…for sure,” she moaned out into the sky, tearing her hand at my hair to pull my lips eagerly back onto hers.
I had to have her. All of her. I bit a lip as my hand moved from kneading at her tits to roving over her taut stomach. She squealed out adorably as I shoved her back against the wooden railing, our tongue wrestling for dominance again. Almost instinctively she spread her legs for me, as my hand ventured downward to the edge of her dress. My fingertips snaked into her taut thighs, and I dug my nails in to elicit those sweet moans I so craved. As I brought my thumb up to skate over the her pantie covered pussy lips I was surprised, turned on, and incredibly fucking excited to find the material of her underwear so fucking wet.
“You’re drenched,” I broke a kiss and smiled against her ear.
“Mhm hmm,” she meekly offered before moaning out when I worked my thumb against the material between her folds.
“I was drenched that whole fucking semester,” An evil grin spread across my face as I nipped at her ear and tore her panties down. She stepped out of them eagerly and quickly as I gripped the inside of her thigh.
“Maybe you were actually a really bad girl when you were my student, Belle,” I breathed into her ear. She clamped her thighs together, begging for more pressure as she moaned out trying to find words.
“But you were such a good girl for me, weren’t you?” I added the real antecedent. She bit her lip and nodded, before moaning out uncontrollably as I ran a finger up and down between her sopping pussy lips.
“Good girls get rewarded,” I admitted, biting at her ear again. She answered in kind, jetting a hand down to pull my hand tighter against her cunt. I slid two fingers in, easily, into her tight depths, working them in and out as she gushed over my masterful hand.
She weakly held on with one hand, using the other to work over her tits. I kissed at her neck as I increased the speed of my fingering. She would occasionally tighten those thighs again, just begging my touch to be felt deeper.
“I bet you would have liked to be spread legged on my office desk,” I growled.
“Mhmm fuck!” she yelled out, moaning and breathing louder and faster.
“Being finger fucked and eaten out and fucking rewarded so fucking well,” I worked my tongue over her cheek and planted one more kiss.
“Please…p-please professor,”
I jetted my thumb up to press harshly against her clit and she couldn’t fucking find words. I bit at her neck before kissing up to her ear.
“This is your best memory. Your favorite professor making you cum on his balcony. Making you scream out to the fucking world how turned on you are,”
She moaned loudly using her hand to weakly attempt to cover her mouth.
“You’ve always been such a good girl, Belle,” I increased the speed of my fingers, circling her clit with my thumb, “be a good girl and cum for me Belle,” I moaned into her ear, reaching maximum speed. Her hands fell to her sides, digging into the material of her dress as she tipped her head back and let loose. As she peeked over the edge I quickly caught her mouth with mind, stifling whatever final moans she might have as I slowed down my hard-handed assault on her little cunt. I slid that hand back up her stomach, squeezing her breasts just to cover them with her juices, and covered her cheek again as I pulled away. She blushed and smiled as her breathing settled down.
“P-professor?” she started to breathe out. I smiled and kissed her softly, working my lips over her cheek and chin, holding her tight,
“fuck me?” she finally let out. She didn’t have to ask twice. I smiled, biting her lip after one more kiss, as I turned her around, and began to get myself out of my jeans and boxers.
My thick, tan cock sprung out, as I hiked the material of her dress up. She turned over her shoulder to smile at me, wiggling her perfect fucking ass in the direction of my dick. And as her eyes settled on my manhood, she bit her lip, and was so fucking excited.
“We’ll talk about you being on top later, baby girl,” I explained,
slowly stroking my cock as I stepped towards her. She moaned out and immediately attempted to push back as I ran my fat cockhead up and down her slit. But I teased her, agonizingly. As her juices started to coat my dick I slowly slid into her tight pussy inch by inch, groaning out as her cunt began to strangle my head and shaft. My heavy balls bounced against her skin softly as I bottomed out inside of her. I squeezed at her glorious ass off and on with her perfect breasts, and move her hair away from the back of her neck to kiss that skin as I started to move in and out of my former student. She felt so fucking perfect, and as we both started to breathe heavy and moan out she backed up against my cock in perfect rhythm.
My hands eventually found a home on her hips as I picked up speed, the sound of our sex permeating through the darkening night. She rested her head on crossed arms on the balcony, her tits hitting the wood every once and a while. As I began to rail her harder she moaned out in pain and pleasure, and my eyes focused on her reddening back from the balcony only minutes before. I spanked her ass playfully as I slowed to a stop, and she looked back confusedly. I blew her a kiss as I pulled out, capturing her hand in mine.
After pulling us back into the apartment, I stepped out of whatever clothes I had on left, as she pulled her dress up over her perfect body. Her breasts were pert over a flat stomach, and a small trail of light brown pubic hair was a perfect direction down towards her amazing cunt. She blushed as I drank her in, and I kissed her deeply once more before pushing her back over the arm rest. Her legs splayed out and I almost slid back in but instead dove my face between her thighs and eager sought her clit out with my tongue.
Her hands rummaged through my hair as she dipped her head back and moaned out my name, and her thighs tightened against my ears. I squeezed at the globes of her ass before shooting both hands up to play with her tits, and as she bucked her hips against my eager mouth she captured my hands in hers, screaming obscenities as she very well started to fuck my face with her tight pussy. As her thighs tightened around me, I felt the lips of her pussy clench, and I slid my tongue in between them to drink up her impending orgasm. Her hands squeezed mine as her bucking stopped, so she could just relish in the zenith of her pleasure. I smiled through wet lips and lapped at my own, planting soft kisses against her pubic hair and back up her tummy. Our hands adventured up past her head as she slid back on the couch, eagerly awaiting the euphoria from before.
With ease I slid in once more, and we quickly found a rhythm again. Her warm pussy worked wonders on my thick cock, and she played with each other’s fingers as we made out and made up for lost time. I bridged up to speed up, rubbing a thumb against her clit, and she was quickly shaking and writhing beneath me again.
She snaked a hand down to pull my hand away from overstimulating her cunt, and settled it on my hip as I picked up speed.
“Belle,” I breathed out, “I’m so fucking close.”
She bit her lip, locking eyes with me.
“Cum for me professor. Cum deep in your favorite student’s pussy.”
And fuck, she clamped down on my dick as I reached the perfect rhythm, and moaned along with me as I started blasting load after load of warm cum deep in her tight pussy. I slid back against the armrest, my shiny cock slowly softening under the combination over both our orgasms, and she just smiled in my direction, locking fingers with mine again.
After a few minutes she bridged up and pressed her forehead against mine, capturing my lips with hers as she snaked her hand down to wrap around my recovering cock.
“Now it’s my turn,” she said, biting my lip as she crawled into my lap…
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4l2hrh/graduation_sex_mf