When I rose to the occasion and got my PhD [MF]

I watch the snow softly falling outside through the tiny window of my office. One side of the window is stuck, so a chilly draft creeps in. I shiver. Even the suit I’d had to wear to my PhD presentation this morning is barely sufficient. My dark cotton slacks are too thin to be of use, and they’re uncomfortably tight. I felt them earlier, to, as I glanced at her in the audience every now and then while presenting my research results. I’m surprised I managed to get through it without stumbling. I shift uncomfortably in my chair at the memory of the feeling. Her gaze upon me, thoughtful, appraising…appreciative? Nah, wishful thinking, surely. Need to get my head back into my work.

At least I have the office to myself today; all the other PhDs are out teaching. It’s going to be a long day. I boot up my laptop and dive into my stats software with a vengeance. All day I’ll be running code to calculate the trajectories of planets in their star systems, trying to find the barest of statistical anomalies that might indicate sentient life. With the frigid wasteland outside and the weekend fast approaching, it feels like I’m on one of the thousands of dud planets with no sentient life whatsoever.

I hear a soft knock on the door. Fuck, I forgot that I offer walk-in office hours on Fridays! It’s probably Ron; he had mentioned he needed urgent advice on his thesis. And I haven’t read his latest draft. I’ll have to wing it. I walk to the door and open it.

It’s not Ron. It’s her. My advisor. Despite being just a year older than me and fresh out of grad school herself, she’s widely recognized as one of the most brilliant researchers in our field. While a full head shorter than me, she always has this assured presence and attention to detail; she never loses an opportunity to point out my typos or how my sloppy grad school sweatshirts are keeping me from being taken seriously. Ever stylish in her long wool coat, her steely gaze is matched by her jet-black hair, which she’s pulled back in a tight bun behind a pair of silver earrings that glint in the winter light. “Is now a good time to chat?” she asks. “Uh…sure,” I say. “Great,” she replies, the corners of her lips upturning slightly at my awkwardness. My prior musings are making me more nervous than usual in her presence.

She walks to my desk and sits down, undoing her coat and loosening her cotton scarf. She crosses her legs, revealing a pair of dark heels and long dark stockings, going all the way up… there, under the shimmering blue dress she had worn to the presentation. “Close the door, we should talk,” she says. “But I’m not allowed–” Our department had an open-door policy. “Close the door,” she repeats firmly. I’m starting to worry. What had I left out of my charts this time? I shut the door and sit across from her.

As she leans back in her chair, I notice the fine contour of her collarbone under her scarf. “So, how do you think you did today?” she asks.
“I-I thought the research presentation went fine,” I stammer. It’s so hard to think clearly with her sitting right there, in that dress, and, fuck me, those stockings. “My numbers were correct, I answered all the students’ questions–”
“No, I’m talking about your body language,” she interrupts. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment.
“I-what? I made sure to wear a suit today like you had asked, I do treat these presentations seriously.”
She takes a deep breath. “Hmm…yes, I was rather…impressed,” she says. She leans closer. I feel something stir under my tight suit pants. Not the time. Keep those eyes on her face. Her silver earrings dangle, almost touching her neck. “I’d like to take a closer look at your research,” she says. I feel her foot brush my ankle under the desk. Wait, is that a sign?
I squirm in my chair, the tightness under my suit growing. “Sure, let me draw it up…” I take my laptop to the desk and type in a few commands, hardly aware of what I’m doing. She leans over to see closer, the low-cut neck of her dress barely leaving anything to the imagination. “I like how you structured this equation…that will allow us to discover a lot more,” she says softly. Her hand brushes mine over the keyboard. I feel its warmth.
“If I can just show you one thing…” I say, my hand turning over to stroke the inside of her wrist. Have I gone too far? Would she respond? Fuck, I want her so bad.
“What would that be?” she asks. With her other hand, she undoes her bun to let her hair out.
“It’s something you probably haven’t seen before…”. My breath’s quickening now. She must see how hard I am, I’m practically bursting.
“Try me.”
I loosen my tie. “If I did help you discover something, you’d have to help me as well,” I say, with a tantalising smile, my confidence growing.
“Of course…that’s the best kind of collaborative research,” she replies. Her fingers are now fidgeting with my cufflinks.
I reach over to run my hands over her scarf. She reaches her hands up and grabs mine. To my surprise she doesn’t move them away; she directs them under her scarf. I move one hand lower down her chest, and the other up towards her earring, playing with her earlobe as I draw my face closer to breathe softly in her ear. “Like this?” I whisper. She shivers and grabs my tie, hurriedly loosening it completely and unbuttoning my shirt with one hand. Her other hand runs up my leg starting at the knee, up my thigh.

I breathe faster in her ear. She shuts the laptop, clears the pile of papers from the table, and pushes me onto it. Undoing her scarf, I lower my mouth to the hollow of her neck, feeling her shudder as she feels my warm breath. I tentatively brush her neck with my tongue, unsure of her reaction. Her tight clasp around my back, fingernails digging into my skin, emboldens me to push in harder.

“You know it’s been hard for me to keep on top of things while I’m under you,” I say, reaching a hand down the front of her dress.
“Maybe we should change that for a bit,” she replies, her breaths growing ragged.
I sit up from the desk and press myself against her, running my fingers behind her and stroking the side of her ass, gradually allowing them to explore lower as they trace small circles. She gasps and pushes herself against me, as I feel her getting warmer. The chilly draft from the window is barely noticeable now; in fact, the glass has started to fog up.

I place her on my desk as she undoes the last button of my shirt, stroking my chest and working her other hand into my tight suit pants; I’m so hard. I can see the lust in her eyes at that moment as they lock onto mine. She unclasps my belt and unzips my pants with an expertness that makes me strain against the thin fabric. She knows what she’s doing. She’s breathing really heavily now. I press myself against her figure, with more urgency this time, as I lift her dress. I can feel the tips of her breasts straining against her lace bra; I unhook the bra and move my face lower, reaching my tongue to just graze her tips, one at a time. She moans softly. With one hand she directs her breast deeper into my mouth, as I reach lower behind her to feel her wetness. My students’ papers are soaked, but too late now, they should have gone digital.

My pants, held up by my heavy belt, fell down to my ankles as she caresses me with her long fingers. I breathe faster as I can feel the tension building inside me. But not yet. I lift her dress up farther, admiring the soft contours of her smooth, mocha-coloured skin. My fingers probe lower, finally reaching inside her through a layer of wet warmth as they move back and forth gently. I bend down, spread her legs wider, and softly lick her pussy with my tongue in tiny movements up and down. She gasps in surprise and grabs the edges of the desk as I hold her legs down. “Yes…just like that, around my clit.”
Oh, she wants it but she won’t get it yet. I’m hardly the novice myself. I lick around her clit, my breath soft and warm on her inner thigh. I feel her legs clench around my neck, her moans begging me to go faster, harder, rougher. My mouth sucks on her pussy, she tastes so fucking good. I can feel myself grow harder with every taste.

“Fuck me now,” she whispers, a plea I could no longer resist. She directs one of my hands to her breast and the other to her clit, while I slowly put myself inside her. I can feel her wetness clicking against my fingers, producing a small puddle under us on the table. “You like being between two pieces of wood?” I whisper in her ear. She nods vigorously, pushing herself deeper against me. She turns around to be facedown against the desk. Her breaths came louder now. I gasp at how tight she was, feeling her pulse around me with every thrust. She moans louder. “Harder…I’m so close.” I go faster as she holds the desk tighter, touching her breasts with one hand and pushing her waist down with the other. Fuck, she’s so hot. I move my hand to her clit and flick it back and forth. Her moans get louder. “Fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming, keep going!” she whispers. I go deeper into her, feeling how wet she is, feeling her pulse and spasm. She cries out as she finally comes, her pussy tightening so hard around me. And then I can’t take it any longer. I finish deep inside her. We lay there for a bit, panting hard as the snow falls softly outside.

And that’s how I ace my PhD presentation.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/imhio7/when_i_rose_to_the_occasion_and_got_my_phd_mf