[F]ucking my stud college professor in the wilderness

So I’ve told this story enough times via PM to folks that I figured I might as well post the whole thing in this sub and hope some others get enjoyment out of it :) If you get jealous easily you might honestly want to sit this story out, because spoiler alert: I had a hot body in college and got fucked a lot by a big dick in the story I’m about to recount.

Last time I posted here I talked about being a college freshman and being very shy, mostly interacting sexually with people on an online-only basis. Well the more time I spent at college the more I came out of my shell, both in how I dressed and how I related to people. I started showing off my young body, which admittedly, was pretty great back then. I had a “classic” kind of hourglass shape, big DD tits, a smallish waist, and wide hips with a big round 40-inch ass. I started majoring in art because I liked to draw, and of course that led me to change my look in a somewhat drastic way in order to properly inhabit the “role” of an art student. My look was pretty androgynous, with buzzed or “pixie cut” hair and these round John Lennon-esque glasses that drove guys crazy when I paired the look with men’s button-up shirts and slacks, and even moreso when I wore tight slightly ripped t-shirts and pre-damaged jeans, or bike shorts and a sports bra, or some other outlandish outfit I thought would really freak out the squares. It mostly accomplished the feat of making me cringe in the present.

But anyway I was majoring in art but really exploring different fields. I was very much the scholastic quaintrelle, taking classes I thought would be interesting and fun, and I was getting really interested in plants, biology, and sustenance farming at the time. That’s how I got into the orbit of a young bio professor who invited me to do some field work with him. I’d taken his class, he was a talented “wunderkind” type of professor who was only 7 years older than me at the time. We flirted in class and I’m sure other students thought it was disgusting, especially since the professor mentioned his wife in class often. The bottom line is he was incredibly hot, with long black hair and a beard he kept neatly trimmed.

By that time in my college career (I was a junior, and ended up taking a while to finish my degree actually) I was living in a housing co-op, and like my transformation into the “art chick,” living in a co-op meant I added an earthy, crunchy, hippie element to how I dressed. It really seemed to attract the attention of the professor, and we communicated a lot outside of class. After the semester ended I got a random email from him that seemed to be addressed to some other people. It was an open invitation to apply to be his assistant on a trip out to the “field station,” which is basically a little cabin with modest living quarters outside of town that’s near some sites where the university was doing survey and data collection work. I applied even though I thought I wouldn’t get in, but got a personal email from the professor saying he was glad I applied, and then another one a little later in the week saying I’d made the cut! I found out then that he and I would be the only ones there, and it started to make me a little nervous. It made me more nervous when he said his wife is usually the one who assists him, and she was going to be traveling to see family during the time we’d be at the station.

Still, I was young and dumb and naive and also horny as fuck at all times, so I accepted the position. The sexual tension was thick between us even before he came to pick me up in his car. Wanting to get into the scientist mindset, clearly in over my head, I observed my knees quivering, the butterflies in my stomach, and my inability to sleep the night before he was to pick me up for an early morning drive out to the station. When he showed up at my co-op I could feel his eyes scanning over my body while I loaded my stuff into the back of his car. He was making no attempt to hide it, glancing down at my breasts while I was talking to him. I was straight-up wet in my panties by the time he pulled out of my driveway with me in the passenger seat.

We kept up the facade for as long as possible, that this was a professional, academic endeavor and not just an excuse for this hot professor to bone his student for four straight days (that was how long the assignment was). We caught up a little on the drive. He revealed to me, in a move I recognize now as somewhat inappropriate, that he and his wife had discussed opening up their relationship. I found out later that this was a half-truth, he and his wife had already opened up their relationship and I was the second girl he’d brought out the the field station like this, but him presenting it as an “in progress process” between him and his wife made it feel so much more tantalizing.

I got to enjoy the feeling of his gaze scanning my young body as we unloaded our stuff and made up the beds in the two sleeping rooms. It wasn’t an “Oh no there’s only one bed!” porno type of situation. For most of the first day we endured the sexual tension, which was thick enough between us you’d need a two-handed broadsword to cut through the steam. After changing and hiking out to the main site we’d be collecting data from, he set up the camera he was using on a tripod and pointed it to overlook a cliff near our site. It was a beautiful view and he had me take a few photos in front of it, and then we posed for a photo together. I was wearing a blue mens’ button-up shirt with a spaghetti strap white tank top underneath, all tucked into khaki shorts and a pair of chunky hiking boots, another example of me very much “looking the part.” The photos he took weren’t fashion-y or even that sexy. He just wanted pics of me smiling (but he told me “you don’t have to smile if you don’t want to”) in front of the cliff. Still, having him take my picture was monumentally arousing, even though I was just standing there, showing a tiny big of wholesome cleavage in my tank top, smiling for my older biology professor. Then I was standing in front of the camera on a timer with my manly professor’s hand around my waist and my arm around his shoulder. My fingers are shaking as I type this, remembering how horny I was being photographed.

We got back to the cabin by evening. It was dark, cicadas were buzzing like crazy. I went to put some things back in my room and took off the button-up shirt. He was messing around with some equipment we’d have to cart back and forth from the sight, kneeling down and struggling a little to get it out of its case, and I just walked up, knelt down next to him, and kissed him on the mouth. I think I asked something about the open marriage after that, but I honestly don’t remember exactly what I said, but we made love for the first of what turned out to be many times over that long weekend.

He was very well-endowed, as big a cock as I’d ever encountered up to that point. I remember exclaiming, “Ohh, it’s big!” when I first saw it, and how it felt to take him in my pussy for the first time, in missionary position on a filthy couch in the main area of the field stations’ living quarters. We used protection (Trojan Magnums for anyone keeping score), but only when he was fucking my pussy. Right after he came that first time we made an agreement to keep it secret, but didn’t make an agreement to never do it again, so…

I could try to detail all the other things we did event-by-event but the next few days were sort of a blur of hard work and crazy sex. I woke him up with oral sex every day that I woke up before him. I tried to keep track of our sexual activity in a section of my notebook, but we were messing around so often and he was cumming so many times I lost count. My estimate is that our final “number” was around 30 times over the four days. We didn’t necessarily explore much in the way of kinks or even different positions, but he could definitely get rough. I loved when we were having sex out at the site and he would push my face into the dirt while pounding me from behind. One of my favorite memories is from the second day when he showed me the swimming hole, a little pond with a floating dock and lily pads where we skinny-dipped and hung out for a few hours and had sex five times. It all felt really primal and just all-around super hot.

After the trip ended I gave him head in the car on the drive home and we resolved to stay in touch. At that point I was 100% in love with him and we kept up through email over the next few months. I talked about the trip (but kept the sexual part of it a secret) to all of my room mates, regaling them with how great it was to be outdoors and in nature and all that. Eventually things kind of tapered off with him. He told me he and his wife had come to an agreement about openness, so we met up a few more sessions of marathon sex and getting my insides rearranged, and even stopped using protection at a point. Things tapered off eventually, though, because I’d kind of wanted to believe he would actually leave his wife for me, and it became clear over time that that wasn’t going to happen. We had intense conversations about it, and agreed we could keep hooking up if we wanted to, but things tapered off after that.

So that’s the gist or my kind of long story. I don’t know if there are any glaring gaps or flaws in the narrative but I tried to sum it up as best I could. Hope you liked reading it!

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/icqhxn/fucking_my_stud_college_professor_in_the