Chapter 2
"Hey, don't be so uptight, man!"
Dale Drake gritted his teeth at the words, sealing his lips in a tight, tense line. He stood back, controlling his impatience, as he waited for the crowd of students to file into the elevator ahead of him. They filled the compartment and he sighed as the doors closed on several grinning faces. The students had been right, though, and he knew it, despite his resentment... uptight... it was growing clear to him that he was just that. He still had to learn that at Pompeyo it just wasn't "cool" to do things like pushing ahead of the crowd of students, even if you were a professor.
He knew he still hadn't made the adjustment to the relaxed, calm pace of the west coast campus, so altogether different from the high pressure hustle and bustle of the Eastern schools he had known. But his "Uptightness" was more a result of month long struggle, mainly with himself, which seemed today to be spilling all around him.
Partly, it was due to a decline in the quality of his artwork-a decline which had resulted lately in no work at all. He knew that occasional dead ends were always a fact of artistic life and were a part of growth. But painting had always been one of his major channels of release, of self-expression and it disturbed him now to be so at odds with his work.
His tension was due as well to a feeling of middle age which had seemed to come upon him so suddenly. He had blended right into the stiff social fabric of the Eastern schools, but here he felt acutely consious of his age and position. There was a strong youth culture here whose ideas, language, dress and activities could not be ignored or looked down upon. Either you were "with it" or you were an outsider-" uptight."
In his classes for the first time in his teaching career, he had sensed that he was failing to communicate with his students. He had always held certain fixed ideas about art, drawing and painting, but here at Pompeyo he found a resistance to these ideas. Students prefered to "do their own thing" and they did-some rebelling quietly, others openly. The trouble was, so many of their ideas and work was so creative and so inspired that often he felt foolish to try and teach them anything. Was he really "old school" after all?
Abruptly, he tried to dismiss this nagging train of thought and turned his attention to the row of floor numbers above the door, watching them light in succession as the elevator made its ascent. He tried to relax as he waited. Soon though, he was thinking about Ginnie Rodgers.
She was perhaps the most exciting, the sexiest of the many stunning co-eds he was. teaching this semester. It was infuriating to watch them in their miniskirts and tight, low slung flares, to see their braless boobies bouncing loosely beneath their clothes. Sex was in the air here and people were open, enthusiastic and guilt-free about it. That in itself was enough to make him feel old.
Ginnie Rodgers was typical of her set-tight, short minis revealing long, shapely legs, high set unfettered breasts under thin blouses, a cool, coy demeanor but an occasional flash in her eye which revealed to anyone just what a sexy, young animal she was. It was nothing short of damned distracting to have her in a class.
As always, thinking about Pompeyo co-eds threw Dale back on the fact of his own, not so joyful marriage. His wife, Laura, a dark-haired beauty and an artist in her own right, was as fine a spouse as he could ever have hoped to find. And he never doubted her love for him, nor his for her. Yet there had always been something lacking in their sex life, due, most likely, to their mutual inhibitions. Last night had been typical.
They had passed a peaceful evening and gone to bed early as was their habit. Dale had begun some love play and when Laura had resisted, he had given up, too tired to persist. Then, as he was just beginning to fall asleep, Laura had decided that she wanted it after all and had taken the role of initiator, fondling his cock, rubbing her body against him. Sleepy, irritated and put off by his wife's sudden aggressiveness, Dale had found it difficult to maintain an erection. If only she would go down on me-just once, he had thought.
When his prick had finally hardened, Laura mounted him, but had difficulty with insertion as her pussy was still tight and poorly lubricated. Consequently, his erection had slackened and, after a few tense minutes of gratification, Laura rolled off and turned her back to him, silently angered at her husband's usual failure to give her an orgasm. Dale lay with limp cock, angered at himself at their constant failure to really meet each other on harmonious terms. So it went, always- The whir of the opening elevator door snapped him from his reverie and he stepped into the compartment alone. The door was just beginning to slide closed when he heard the sound of running feet.
"Wait, wait," came a female voice.
Dale reached forward quickly and grabbed the door which slid back automatically. Ginnie Rodgers stopped short in front of him, out of breath, her hair spilled about her shoulders.
"Oh-Professor Drake... " she said, embarrassed.
"Well, come on, Ginnie," he smiled, feeling awkward himself, "You're already late for class." Ginnie smiled back and stepped into the elevator, feeling a twinge of excitement at being alone with this man. Though in his late thirties, Dale Drake had lost few of the qualities which had made him attractive to the co-eds in his own college days. Darkly handsome, with clear, grey-green eyes and a lean, trim build, he was enough of an "older man" to have a strong appeal to a young sexpot like Ginnie-even if he himself felt uneasy about such age disparities. As the doors closed soundlessly on them, Ginnie spoke up pertly.
"How can you say I'm late, Mr. Drake, when you are too?"
"We professors are allowed that privilege," Dale replied, "We like to be greeted by a full room of smiling faces."
Ginnie was silent for a moment, and Dale wondered if he had said something wrong. Nonetheless, he took the opportunity to drink in the soft sexy curves of her body, alluringly clothed in a tight sweater and mini.
For a moment, he dared to imagine those long, svelte legs entwined about his, and his prick stiffened in his pants. In class, Ginnie was always setting off such thoughts-casually sashaying around the studio, casting that eye of hers or sitting with her mini-hem carelessly high on those thighs, her brilliantly colored panties flaring out at anyone who cared to look. He recalled the bright blue briefs she had shown him only a few days ago. His cock stiffened harder and he shifted self-consciously. Jesus, she was enough to set off any man's wildest fantasies!
He realized he had been staring and groped for something with which to break uncomfortable silence.
"How do you like the class this quarter, Ginnie?"
"Oh, it's just fine," she said, hesitantly. "But... well, I know most of the students like you more than you think, professor."
"Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, taken aback.
"Well... it's just that you shouldn't always feel you have to play the role of professor here-if you know what I mean."
"I'm not so sure I do, Ginnie," he said, feeling more awkward than ever. Ginniel paused, choosing her words carefully.
"It's simply that the teachers who get alone best here, and who really seem to enjoy it ar» the ones who are open to the kids and whs aren't afraid to... well, meet us on ou§ terms."
"I-I see," Dale mumbled, as the words hit home.
"Let's face it," she chirped, brightly, "Yol have as much to learn from us as we do fro« you!"
Dale nodded slowly, feeling a strange sen* of relief at the discovery of this simple facK He realized just how eager he really was « learn from this new generation.
"Any parting words of advice before til class," he grinned as the elevator came to I stop.
"Yeah," she purred coyly, "Don't be m uptight-you'll be surprised at what happens* His cock twinged as her eyes flashet daringly into his and it pulsed and lengthens with lust as he followed the bouncing of hi full ass under the taut mini-skirt as th» stepped out of the elevator.
Simple as his duties were, Dale Drake ym having a very difficult time getting through ft afternoon office work. It seemed that evefl time his well-built, red-headed secretary mines her way over his office floor, his eyes won lift from the forms and follow the invitiM bounce of her fully-packed curves.
Susan Warwick was up to something today; it was in her look, in the way she flipped her butt around, and in the eyeful of lemon yellow panties he got every time she delved into his file cabinet-with which she seemed unusually busy.
She was wearing a typically distracting outfit-a gauzy white blouse which stretched tautly over her thrusting, high set breasts, revealing a black bra beneath and a suede mini which seemed to caress the quivering gourds of her bottom with every swish of her full thighs. As a result, the desk over which Dale had hovered for the past half hour had served mainly to conceal the straining knot in his lap. It was one of those days.
Divorced and obviously highly sexed, word had it that Susan had bedded down with more than one of the faculty members. She had turned on her sexy vibrations for him before, but today they seemed extra strong, extra urgent.
As he had passed her desk on his way in, she had swiveled in her chair, fussing with some papers and trying hard to act naturally. Her legs were crossed and she had allowed her extra-short mini to ride all the way up her long thighs. Dale had caught a glimpse of bright yellow panties above the smoky, sleek nylons and his cock had twinged instantly.
But then he was a little on edge himself. Ginnie Rodgers had been carrying on in her normally provocative fashion all through his morning class and it seemed he had been fighting down erections all day. Once more he tried to focus his attention on the papers before him and once more Susan breezed into the office, carrying a heat wave with her.
"I'm sorry to keep bothering you, professor," she beamed, "But I have to pull some transcripts."
He smiled back as she drew a chair to the cabinet and seated herself, not a little self-conscious about her super-sexy outfit and a little nervous as well. None too subtle, she spent the next few minutes providing Dale with a lavish display of her tightly packed sexuality. Trying to appear as casual as possible, she rummaged through the cabinet and leafed through some forms while making an elaborate show of crossing and uncrossing her legs. Occasionally, she opened them wide enough to erase any doubts in Dale's mind about the current state of her libido.
The hissing and rubbing of the nylon surfaces was having it's calculated effect-the curl of his penis in his tight briefs had swollen uncomfortably. Perhaps it was the mounting pressure of his own sexual need, perhaps his disgust with constantly fighting himself and perhaps it was Ginnie's words to him this morning, but Dale felt his usual insecurity, his "uptightness" in the face of a hot-pantied woman woman suddenly dissolving. He simply relaxed in his chair, his face retaining a calm, even innocent expression of open admiration as his penis swelled in his pants. He was charmed and had decided to enjoy it. If there was any ice left to be broken, Susan did the trick when she stood and bent over to look through the bottom file drawer. At the sight of her shimmering pantied bottom mounted over those sleek, tapering thighs, it was all Dale could do to keep from jumping up and moulding his steaming loins into her backside. He guessed she would have melted against him, trembling with the eager pitch of her fever heat...
So what now, he asked himself, his hands clenching at his armchair. She had given him all the go-signals-wasn't the next move his? But what course could he take? Once again it seemed he would be mired down in agonizing self-doubt.
But Susan turned suddenly, apparently finished with her filing. He met her eyes evenly and knew instantly she had been concsious of his eyes on her body all the while.
"Porfessor, I was wondering if you could help me with something?" she asked with a sly, self-conscious smile, "I have to select some drawings from the storage room for the display cabinet and I thought perhaps you could help. I'd much rather rely on your taste than on mine."
"Certainly, Susan," he said, a bit thickly. "Godd," she smiled, "I'm ready if you are." Dale didn't fail to catch the invitation in her voice. More than ready, he thought, his prick uncompromisingly hard as he stood up. Susan's eyes dropped to his slacks for a flirting moment and he saw the excitement there. She turned then, and his heart raced eagerly as his eyes followed her bouncing buttocks as she led him out of the office. For a moment he was reminded of Ginnie Rodger's cute ass, which he had likewise followed earlier that day. He swore softly to himself, clenching and unclenching his itching fingers. He wouldn't stand for much more prick teasing today.
"There's some lovely etchings here-I think they're on the top shelf."
Before Dale could make a move, Susan had stepped up on a chair alongside the row of shelves. From where he stood below her, the mini-skirt was simply meaningless. The panties were tight and near transparent, and above the nip of the lace-trimmed legbands, He could see all of her shadowed charms through a clinging yellow film. Somehow, he retained a sense of ease and restraint, though he made no attempt to conceal the protruding tent at his crotch.
She drew some folders from the shelf and the movement drew the mini-hem even higher over the swell of her bottom.
"Here," he heard himself say, "Let me help you down."
He took her waist in his hands and she seemed to float down against him. The suede sheath slid to her fluttering stomach and her nyloned thighs caressed him to the knees. They froze, their eyes falshing to the mould of their loins. Dale saw a sheer yellow swath beneath the uplifted skirt.
"My," he hoarsed, "Lemon meringue."
"Mmmm-hm," she breathed, "Fresh from the oven."
Her eyes lifted to his, lidded and sultry with desire. Her hps were moist and he could see the evn row of her pearly teeth behind their parted scarlet gleem. Suddenly, her bosom was swelling hard against his. He had had enough of this game. His blood rushing in his head, he bent and seized her yielding mouth.
Their bodies were trembling in their surging mold when they wrenched their lips apart, gasping for breath.
"I need you Dale," she hissed, her nails raking his neck.
"But h-here?," he gasped, hardly believing what was happening.
"Yes! Don't worry, I locked the door behind us-I'm the only one with the key. We're safe here." He hesitated and she surged against him. "Please," she groaned, "Fuck me here-now! Fuck me! Oh, fuck me!"
Her hand groped at his crotch as the words burned into his brain. The clutch of her fingers on his aching penis dissolbed any further inhibitions. He siezed her against him in another searing kiss, massaging the nether cheeks of her pantied bottom under the upraised skirt. Her plump crotch ground against his thigh. She squirmed against his manly caress, humming throatily. Shit, how he wanted her!
She unzipped his fly and with trembling fingers worked his big penis out of the tight confines of his jockey briefs. She moaned at the sight of it, swaying before her stiff and strong, like a bar of smooth, solid iron.
Their mouths met again, hungrily, then-tongues winding and probing. Susan rubbed her titties against his solid chest as his bobbing prick sizzled against her pantied belly, the sibilant fabric sending little charges of ecstasy. She was really turning on!
"God, you've got a big one," she panted as their mouths unfastened.
She took its pulsing head in her palm and ran her smooth hand lovingly over its hard lenth. Reaching below, she fingered his swollen sack, lifting and rolling his balls. Dale slipped his fingertips down the front of her panties and gently probed her pussy, feeling her clittie stiffen in the panties.
"You haven't got a bad-sized pecker yourself, baby," he teased as she moaned and shivered.
"C'mon," she urged,"let's get some of these damn clothes off!"
Only last night, Susan had lian in bed massaging herself wildly through her silk nightie, dreaming of the big joystick she knew this handsome devil must possess. Now, as it bobbed rigidly before her, the thought that she would soon be getting it screwed into her sent added thrills through her overcharged pussy.
Dale stepped back, shipping off his coat and shirt as if they were on fire. Susan's hot little nipples tingle fiercely in the confines of her bra as his hairy, muscular chest was exposed. She undid her blouse and her breasts thrust out daringly, quivering in the confines of her wispy black bra.
She undid a small bow in front and her huge globes bounced free as the bra fell away, her pink nipples stiffening at the thrill of exposure. Dale closed the gap between them, unable to wait, his pants half undone, his penis swinging like a boom.
He reached to cup the quivering cones of her breasts in his palm. He weighed them gently and then began a soft kneading motion with his fingertips until he was rolling them back and forth, the smooth resilient flesh shivering under his expert stroking hands. Susan stood groaning, her head tossed back, her eyes squeezed shut with pleasure.
"Ooooh, lover... you know what a lady likes!"
He tweaked her lust hardened nipples in his finger tips, tickling the tips with his thumbs. She reached out blindly and grasped his prick with both hadns, jerking it up and down like a lever.
Dale was dizzy with lust at the insistent, demanding grip of her hands. He relaxed hsi grip on her breasts and with a little sigh, she sank to her knees in front of him. Her mouth slackened as she watched the long, curving pole twitch violently before her face.
"Oh Dale, you're like a fucking horse," she exclaimed, wrapping her fingers greedily around the bone-hard projection.
Susan pumped vigorously on it while she caressed the sac of his balls with her free hand. As her fingers dug harder into the resilient flesh a pearl of lust juice appeared on the red tip of the swollen head. He siezed her head in his palms.
"Suck it," he ordered hoarsely. "Mmmmm! You won't have to ask me to do that king-size!"
Scooting forward on her knees, she ran her palms slowly up the bulging columns of his hairy thighs. He watched her slide her tongue slowly over her full, pursed lips as she ran her fingers through the black crop of his pubic growth. She was taking her time, deliberately tantalizing him.
"Please... hurry," he hushed. His body shook as she leaned forward and slipped her gleaming lips over his tender cock crown. Her tongue laved him expertly as her lips tightened on the edge of his corona. He could hear her murmuring with satisfaction as his penis filled her mouth, swelling even larger in the warm, wet cavern Her technique was sensational, beyond the realm of even his wildest fantasies. If only his wife would do this to him!
Susan began sliding her mouth up and down the slick shaft, her lips making a little plopping sound as they went back and forth over the edge of his tender head. The tempo of her fellatio grew even more frantic, his swollen prod choking her little cries of excitement. Her fingers dug into his balls and their moans of delight mingled in the fevered air as she sucked and sucked and sucked...
He sensed the hot juice of release bubbling in his loins and in a corner of his fogged brain he decided to save his load for her cunt. Reluctantly, he pulled her bobbing head away with a gently tug. His cock gleamed with a thin coat of sperm and saliva as it jerked wildly before her glazed eyes.
"Can't take it, eh?" she grinned, licking her lips.
"Not if you want that fucking you asked for!"
"Goodie!" she squealed.
Hiking her skirt to her belly, she rolled back on the hard tile floor and eagerly stripped the yellow panties down her long legs, tossing them carelessly aside. Her pink, puffy pussy was framed with a luch, red bush.
"A natural redhead," Dale exclaimed.
"Mmmm-just get that red head of yours into me, lover," she cooed, scrubbing her thighs with her palms.
Dale had half a mind to return her oral favor as he eyed the delectable pussy, but the beating of his cock could no longer be ignored. He sank to his knees, eager to plunge himself into the inviting folds of her pulsing flesh.
Her tongue was flicking over her lips and her ass was squirming all over the hard floor as he nosed his rock hard penis against her soft, honey-dewed vulva. Suddenly, with a single viscious notion, he snapped it into her, plunging tis throbbing length deep into her moist fluttering channel. She howled with delight at the shock of it and a spasm of pleasure almost lifted her off the floor.
The searing heat of their genital contact turned them both into lust-starved animals. They rolled back on the floor, Susan's legs entwined about his thighs, her hands gripping her clenching buttocks, welding their their loins even tighter. Dale could feel the crisp mats of their pubic hair grinding entangled as he filled her with his heat and steel. "Ah! Ah! Ah!... Ohhh, yeahhh!" It was the first time he had fucked another woman since his marriage. Beside himself with lust, he pis toned into Susan with all the pent up fury of his many half-attempts and failures with such women.
She bucked and rolled like a bronco as he worked it into her, choking and cursing, srenching her hips roughly from side to side then around and around. Her ass bounced vigorously as she gorged herself on his cockflesh.
Their mutual guttural noises prevented them from hearing a muffled cry of release which emanated from a dark corner of the room.
There, hunched behind some cabinets, her panties as her knees, her fingers soaked with creamy come juice, Ginnie Rodgers watched their every move. She was beginning to enjoy this role of voyeur!
On impulse, she had dropped by the department offices, hoping to catch Dale Drake. She thought to ask him some questions of an artistic nature, and in the back of her mind she had really wanted to flirt a little too-though she hardly dared to think what it was she really wanted.
When she had seen the professor and Susan Warwick, whose reputation she knew well, heading hurriedly down the hallway, she sensed something was up. And when they stepped into the storage room and locked the door behind them, Ginnie guessed what it was.
It was easy for her to coax and charm one of the janitors into lending her a key. Her curiosity burning, she had slipped through a side door just as Susan was fishing Dale's big cock out of his pants. The beastlike intensity of their lovemaking had excited Ginnie tremendously and she had diddled her tittie to blissful fulfillment.
Now, as she watched Dale thrust that beautiful prick of his into Susan's squirming body, Ginnie knew that she wanted it for her very own pussy. She had seen the way he eyed her in class and had known she was making him hot and bothered, enjoying every minute of it. Before, she would have been satisfied with teasing and maybe he would have even made a pass. But now she wanted more.
She would have him, partly for the thrill of conquering an older man and partly because she could see he was an excellent, forceful lover-with a lovely, big prick to boot! Already she could see that he had taken her advice about loosening up. Soon, she guessed, he would admit to himself just how much he wanted her too-and do something about it.
Ginnie hitched up her panties, enjoying the feel of the snug, nylon crotch against her tender pussy. She stole a parting glimpse at the writhing bodies across the room and then tiptoes noiselessly toward the door. She didn't want to be caught this time. No, she would wait for the right moment for Dale Drake.