When I was a college student, I enjoyed taunting my male professors by uncrossing my legs seductively in class while wearing a short skirt, and showing off my nipples by going braless.

I loved watching their erections grow while they tried to focus on their lectures. The most important things they taught me were not in the classroom, though. Now, as a teacher, I feel an obligation to carry on the tradition for a new generation. After all, getting an A is important to one’s future.

I was lecturing on sex in three separate classes this week, which always makes me hornier than usual. The morning of my first lecture, I was at home getting ready for class. I stuck my index finger into my pussy, and yes, it was wet, and it had nothing to do with the shower I’d just taken. My fingers moved to my mound, then gently pinched my clit between my thumb and forefinger.

As I returned to my bed and put my favorite vibrating toy on my clit, I thought of what I would wear. I always wore skirts or dresses with thigh-high stockings, no panties, and a bra that allowed my hard nipples to be proudly displayed. I loved watching the young men get bulging erections and squirm uncomfortably in their seats.

Typically, I did not insert a toy when I was guaranteed a real fuck. I loved the exquisite tightness of my pussy upon entry of a young, hard cock. But ultimately, I decided my pussy needed the vibrator to get through till lunch. I slid it into my wet canal, moaning at its entry. I moved it in and out, quickly picking up speed and intensity until I exploded with multiple orgasms, fucking it as I would some lucky, hot stud later. I fell back onto the pillow, glanced at the clock, and saw that it was time to go to work.

At school, I surveyed my prospects. There were three young men I had already tutored, but none were fast learners. Michael, however, was an intelligent, muscular football player who also was very attractive. And he had a hard-on every day.

Michael always sat in the front row. On that particular morning, I provided him with some additional information not included in the lecture. I was very discreet in the crossing and uncrossing of my legs on the stool behind the podium, where only Michael had a view of my bare pussy. I was becoming more amused and even wetter as I watched him try to hide his erection.

After class, he fumbled with his backpack until the classroom had nearly cleared. “Did you need something, Michael?” I asked.

Michael approached the podium, somewhat flushed. “Um, Dr. Carroll, I wondered if I could come in for some extra help during lunch break?”

I smiled and said, “Of course.”

I attempted to regain my Dr. Carroll composure during my next class, but lecturing on the sexual-response cycle only made me think about the throbbing cock waiting for me in an hour. Uncharacteristically, I dismissed the class ten minutes early.

After arriving in my office, I took my hair down from its conservative bun, unbuttoned a couple of buttons, and removed the glasses I wore but didn’t really need. Then I leaned back in my office chair and stroked my clit while thinking, Shit, I really need it now!

As if on cue, there was a tentative knock on the door.

“Yes, come in.”

Michael was clearly nervous, which I found even more arousing.

“You can shut the door, these aren’t my regular office hours.”

He stared at me, “You look much different with your hair down, but, uh, I guess I should ask my questions.”

“I’m glad to help.” I smiled and slid my skirt up to expose the top of my thigh-highs. “Why don’t you move over here? You can sit in my chair, get out your notes, and tell me what you don’t understand.”

Michael tried to disguise his erection as he stood and opened his notebook to where the day’s notes should have been.

“There’s nothing there,” I observed.

“I was distracted, Dr. Carroll.”

“You can call me Catherine here. Why was that?”

“I thought I saw something, and that was all I could think about.”

I perched on the edge of my desk, slightly spreading my legs, showing a view of my glistening pussy.

His face quickly reddened. “That!” he said.

“Well, since I did lecture on the sexual-response cycle, maybe That! could help you.” I slid my skirt up to my waist. “Does That! look like it could help you understand the material?” He silently nodded. I unbuttoned my blouse to expose my sexy lace bra. “How about these?”

“Yes, Dr. Carroll,” he responded in a raspy voice.

“Yes, who?” I demanded, putting his hands on my rather ample tits.

“Yes, Catherine.”

“Suck them,” I told him, and began my lecture. “The sexual-response model was developed by Masters and Johnson. The first stage is that of arousal. With each stage there can be unique problems.” I moaned as he sucked my left breast. “Harder,” I commanded, and he increased his intensity. “Much better,” I praised. Michael learned quicker than his predecessor.

“During the arousal stage, the male becomes erect and the female has increased lubrication.” Michael nodded as he alternated sucking each breast. “Bite them gently.” By then I had to pause, as I was almost ready to climax. Catching my breath, I said, “Let’s move on.”

I guided his hand toward my very wet pussy. I inserted one of his fingers into the slippery canal, then a second. “That is what female arousal feels like.” He nodded and finger-fucked me. Reluctantly, I removed his fingers, pushing them toward his mouth so he could suck off my juices.

“Now,” I said, “we need to examine what a male looks like during the arousal stage.” I unzipped his jeans and the head of Michael’s erect cock, already wet with pre-come, protruded from the hole in his cotton briefs.

“I don’t believe that I am seeing the full example of the arousal stage,” I observed. Michael stood to lower his jeans. I gasped at the size of his hard cock.

“That is an excellent example, and it would seem that erectile dysfunction is not an issue for you,” I said, taking it in my hand.

“Stage two is the plateau stage. It may involve foreplay.” I bent down to suck just the head of his cock and gently lap up the flow of pre-come. Michael immediately attempted to thrust his entire length into my mouth. I responded by licking his long shaft and balls, then continued my lecture. 

“The plateau stage comes right before the orgasmic phase. In general, women are more likely to have an orgasm during foreplay and prior to actual penetration.

“Do you know how this happens for a woman?” I asked. Michael clearly just wanted to stick his throbbing cock inside my wet pussy and fuck.

“You can finger-bang her,” he responded, and stuck his fingers inside my pussy. The muscles involuntarily clamped down on his thick fingers as he moved them in and out.

“That’s definitely pleasurable, but you’ve already done that,” I said. “Have you ever sucked a woman’s clit or licked her pussy?”

“No,” he responded.

“Well, we will work on foreplay some more at another time.” Mentally, I was already arranging a tutoring session for that evening.

“Let’s move on to the orgasmic phase,” I said, as I slid my ass to the edge of the desk and guided his huge, thick cock inside my pussy.

“Fuck!” I uttered, thinking back to the vibrator that morning. It was nothing compared to Michael’s package. I gasped as he slid in and out. I really wanted him to slide it into my tight ass, but that was another lesson I wanted to save till later.

“Do you like my pussy, Michael?”

I glanced at his sweaty face.

“I love it, Dr. Carroll.”

“You can’t fuck me if you call me that again.” I moved my legs up and wrapped them around his neck, enjoying even deeper penetration.

“Okay,” he practically shouted.

“You have to be quiet here. Later you can be as loud as you want. Now grab my ass!” I ordered.

I was gearing up for a seriously major orgasm as his strong hands squeezed my ass. “Fuck me harder!” I whispered. Michael did, and within the next minute, I came as he erupted into my throbbing pussy.

“That, Michael, was the orgasmic phase,” I said breathlessly. His cock slipped from my pussy, along with some of his come. “Any questions?”

I asked, as I cleaned his entire cock with my mouth.

This intelligent young man who usually contributed to class discussions was literally rendered speechless. I pulled up his briefs and jeans, buttoning and zipping them, as he seemed incapable.

I straightened my clothing, put my hair back up, and replaced my glasses. I leaned down and scribbled something on a notepad. I handed the piece of paper to a still rather dazed Michael. “This is my address. I think perhaps we need to work on the foreplay aspect of the sexual-response cycle. Are you free tonight?”

He nodded, and I continued, “Another student, Bobby, also needs tutoring in that particular area. Are you okay with that?” Again, he nodded.

I kissed him, first gently on the lips, then probing deeply with my tongue. “You can plan on our evening session lasting two to three hours.”

As he left and shut the door, I smiled. Tonight was going to be a wonderful evening. Then I called Bobby. They would definitely both get A’s.