The Professor
Driving the car, I appeared to be focused on the road, but my mind was definitely elsewhere. I was barely paying attention to the other cars or what was happening around me. Still, I kept driving—without a clear destination, just moving forward.
It seemed like a day like any other—sunny, with a few clouds occasionally dimming the golden rays of the sun. A gentle sea breeze carried the scent of salt through the air. Just another quiet day... or so it seemed.
I stopped by the pier and stepped out of the car, walking a few steps before resting my arms on the handrail.
“So quiet it is,” I said to myself.
The silence was broken only by the sound of waves crashing against the shore and the click of my lighter as I lit a cigarette held between my lips. I inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled the smoke, my eyes fixed on the sea while my mind drifted to another place entirely.
1995, I’m busy talking to someone—it’s exam day at college. One of those days I had to stay up all night just to make it to the early morning exam. I’m holding two books, my only interest in them driven by the test ahead.
As I head toward the exam hall, sleep-deprived and barely aware of my surroundings, it happens. The sound of books hitting the floor breaks through the fog in my head—I’ve accidentally bumped into someone. Papers scatter everywhere, fluttering like leaves as they fall.
Startled, I kneel to pick up my books, grabbing a few of the fallen pages and handing them to the person I collided with, still without looking up. They’re quickly gathering their things. I hold the last paper in my hand and think, “Now I should apologize.”
I rise to my feet and look up.
You’re there—visibly flustered, trying to put the papers back in order. Jet-black hair drapes across the left side of your face, leaving the right side exposed. Your eyes are focused on your hands, unaware of mine on you.
You’re wearing a simple, knee-length, half-white sleeveless dress—graceful, effortless—its elegance only enhancing your breathtaking beauty.
“I’m sorry,” I said as I handed you the last paper. 
“It’s alright—probably my fault,” you said, your eyes still fixed on the scattered papers.
You didn’t look up until the last sheet was back in place. Then, as your gaze finally met mine, you added,
“It’s okay. No... worri...”
Your voice trailed off mid-word, caught somewhere between finishing your sentence and processing the moment.
My heart skipped a beat as your voice caught mid-sentence—a subtle stutter that made everything feel suddenly real. It was the kind of voice that lingered, like the scent of something sweet just out of reach.
“Black... Joe Black,” I said, offering my hand, my gaze steady on yours.
“Professor Sandra Williams,” you replied, reaching out with a calm composure that didn’t quite hide the spark between us.
“I’m honored to meet you, Professor,” I said, trying to sound composed, though my eyes were doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that I’d already developed a crush—on someone I thought was a student just moments ago.
“Oh...” you said with a soft smile.
“Well, Mr. Black, thank you.” Your head tilted slightly to the left, a curious sparkle in your eyes. “Are you sitting for this exam?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” I sighed.
“Why unfortunately?” you asked, a hint of surprise in your voice.
“Because it means I have to leave in a moment,” I said, smiling faintly.
“And I know my eyes will never forgive me for it.”
Surprised by my answer, you smiled.
“Well, since I’ll be the one monitoring your exam, there’s no reason for your eyes to be mad at you.”
My eyes lit up, and my heart skipped a beat—again.
“Then I guess not.”
“I’ll see you there, Mr. Black,” you said, your tone suddenly more composed, the smile fading just a touch.
“Joe. Call me Joe.”
“I’ll see you there, then, Joe,” you replied with a slight, almost haughty smile.
“But you’ll still have to call me Miss Williams.”
“Of course, Miss Williams.”
I said it with a grin, already certain I wouldn’t forget this moment anytime soon.
I could hardly peel my eyes off you as you walked away. Reality caught up with me—it was time for the exam. I made my way to my seat, leaving my books behind without a second thought.
As I sat down, pretending to get ready, my mind wasn’t on the test. It was replaying everything—Professor Williams’ words, the sound of her voice, the natural way she moved, that effortless smile. Over and over, like a loop I couldn’t—and didn’t want to—escape.
Her touch broke the loop in my mind. While everyone else got their papers placed in silence, she handed mine directly to me. A whisper of contact—her fingers grazing mine. And that smile… subtle, intentional, unforgettable.
The second cigarette burned slow between my fingers as I leaned into the breeze. A sudden splash from a wave kissed my face with cold droplets. That was all it took.
In a flash, I was back in that classroom—rising from my seat, exam in hand, heading toward you.
“Hope you did well, Joe,” you said with a thin smile.
“How couldn’t I, with you being the one monitoring, Miss Williams?” I replied, a sudden wide smile spreading across my face.
“Could you stop by my office in a few minutes? Unless you’re not free,” you asked, your voice soft, your smile calm but intentional.
“Of course, Miss Williams,” I said, matching your tone, quiet but certain—then turned and left, heading straight toward your office.
A few minutes passed as I waited outside your office door. For once, I didn’t mind waiting—in fact, I welcomed it. It pulled me away from the usual post-exam chaos at the stairways, where students gathered to dissect their answers and debate over who was right.
Instead, I had a moment of quiet. My tired brain, still foggy from a sleepless night, was trying to shut my eyes against my will. But even through the haze, I felt strangely content.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you said quickly as you walked past me, distracted by the search for your keys buried somewhere in your purse.
You finally found them and unlocked the door, revealing a moderately sized office. The desk sat to the right, neat and functional, while two leather chairs faced it, separated by a sleek glass coffee table. Behind the desk stood a wall of shelves, lined with books—some worn, others pristine.
To the left, a leather couch rested against the wall, its dark tones complementing the space. The room was simple yet elegant, and carried a quiet, welcoming warmth.
“Please, come in,” you said, walking toward your desk after gently closing the door behind us.
“I just don’t want anyone to disturb us,” you added as you took the seat opposite mine—the chair to the left of the coffee table.
“It’s okay, Miss Williams,” I replied, my eyes quietly following your movements as you shifted and adjusted, taking a few moments to settle in.
“So, Joe...” you began, pausing just briefly before continuing with a calm, toothy smile.
“Tell me—why do you think you’re here?”
I met your gaze and smiled back.
“My eyes?” I said, half-teasing.
“Yes!” you blurted out in a cheerful, upbeat voice.
“You still haven’t failed to impress me.” You giggled lightly.
“I aim to please, Miss Williams,” I replied with a modest chuckle.
“You’re succeeding so far,” you said with a soft laugh.
“So... how are your eyes feeling now?”
“Grateful, for sure,” I said with a smile.
“They’re definitely thankful for your generosity and kindness so far.”
“We’ll see just how grateful they are... later on,” you said, a playful edge in your voice. Then, more casually,
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Right now—and forgive me for what I’m about to say,” I began, pausing for just a moment.
“Go ahead,” you said in a calm, reassuring tone.
“Feel free to say whatever’s on your mind.”
“Your lips,” I said, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them. In my mind, I was already bracing for the worst—an awkward silence, a firm rejection… maybe even a slap. But I knew it was a risk I had to take. It was either yes... or a very clear no.
To my surprise, you smiled—softly, with a faint blush tinting your cheeks.
“Aren’t you a sweet tongue,” you said, amused by my boldness.
That was the moment I’d been waiting for—the quiet confirmation that this wasn’t just in my head. Miss Williams seemed interested too. It was now or never.
“My lips won’t forgive me if—”
You cut me off smoothly.
“We don’t want that to happen, do we?” you said, casually, tapping your nails against the desk with a measured rhythm.
I froze for a moment, caught off guard, watching as you rose from your chair and walked to the door. You locked it with a quiet click, then turned and came back—this time stopping beside me, leaning in close.
Your breath grazed my skin as you whispered near my left ear,
“Do we?”
My face turned toward yours, our eyes locking in a long, unbroken gaze. Slowly, I leaned in, closing the space between us, until our lips met in a deep, lingering kiss. It was slow at first, then fuller—hungry yet deliberate—as if time itself had paused to let us share that moment.
Your hands found their way to my head, fingers threading gently through my hair. My arms wrapped around you, pulling your body just a bit closer, feeling the warmth between us intensify.
Then, just as suddenly, you leaned back and stood up.
“That should satisfy your lips,” you said with a sly, almost teasing smile.
I smiled back at you.
“Now you’re the one who won’t forgive me... if I don’t have more of your lips.”
“Oh?” you tilted your head slightly, your voice playful.
“You really do keep impressing me, Joe.”
“Like I said before—I aim to please, Miss Williams,” I murmured as I stepped in closer, until our bodies were pressed together.
Our lips met again, and the kiss deepened, growing bolder with every second. The heat between us swelled as if the room had shrunk around us. You guided me back onto the couch, and I adjusted as you straddled my lap, your thighs wrapping around mine.
Your hands explored my chest, firm and deliberate, sending a shiver through me. I reached behind you, fingers finding the zipper of your dress just beneath your neck, slowly sliding it down.
“An explorer too,” you whispered with a smirk, before pulling at the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head—and kissing me again, even deeper than before.
I slid your dress down exposing your bare shoulders that were naked except for the white bra strap that you were wearing under, slowly sliding that down as our kisses heat rose more, feeling your bare cleavage against my chest while my hands were touching your back gently, popping your breast out when with one move I unlocked your bra.
Without thinking, my hands slid down to hold your hips guiding your waist moves that had started while you are on my lap, yours were holding my head burying it in between your soft perfectly rounded tits. I started to kiss all over what my lips could reach, hunting for the nipple that came closer to my lips with a kiss and a hard suck before i left it to hunt again.
As this went on, we both got hotter by the moment, we both knew from the beginning that we wanted much more, you stood up sliding your dress down slowly as I watched your body being exposed bit by bit, each bit driving me hotter and wilder till I could resist you no more, I stood up and held you tight squeezing your almost naked body except for your white panties against mine, feeling your soft skin on my body with my hands that were exploring your back till I grabbed your hips closer so that our waists were squeezing against each other tighter, and our lips sharing a long passionate kiss that had started the moment I stood up.
I took a long drag from my third cigarette, still leaning on the pier’s handrail. Looking around, I realized I was the only one left standing there. I stepped back toward my car, flicked the cigarette stub from my fingers, and stamped it out with my right foot. One last glance at the sea, then I opened the car door and slid inside, starting the engine once more.
The streets looked the same that day, though they usually caught my eye—the elegant buildings on both sides, the carefully chosen trees and roses that complemented the architecture, even the flashy billboards of famous brands scattered like confetti overhead. A view that might dazzle anyone else.
But to me, they looked flat—colorless, dull, lifeless.
Too much of a good thing, as they say.
Maybe it wasn’t the streets. Maybe it was just me. I was there, physically. But my mind? Definitely somewhere else.
I stopped by the mall, pacing quickly toward the entrance as if trying to outrun the outside world. Inside, the décor was refined, almost luxurious—yet my eyes drifted without purpose until something familiar caught my senses.
A scent.
It wrapped around me like déjà vu, drawing me forward without a thought. I followed it to a perfume shop, where a beautifully dressed saleswoman stood outside offering samples to passersby.
“Would I interest you in trying a sample, sir?” she asked, her voice smooth, her smile practiced.
“Hmmm... I already have something in mind,” I replied flatly, eyes scanning the bottles.
“And I’m sure it’s among your samples.”
“Of course, sir. Feel free to try as many as you like.”
“Thank you...” I glanced at her name tag, “Sandy,” and gave her a dry, polite smile.
I tried one sample after another until—
“Ahhh… that’s the one, Sandy.”
“Would you like it wrapped as a gift, sir?” she asked.
“Actually… no. I’ll just take it as it is.”
I smiled faintly as I handed her the payment.
“Sure.”
She disappeared for a moment, then returned with the perfume neatly placed in a perfectly sized paper bag.
“Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a great help,” I said with a smug little smile.
I made my way to a nearby coffee shop and took a seat. Setting the perfume on the table, I lit another cigarette, took a tiny sip of tea, then leaned in, inhaling the scent slowly, deeply, and everything else disappeared.
Images started to flood my mind again, me holding you tight as we were standing facing each other at your office, almost naked while sharing a kiss, holding your hips tight while you were holding my head.
You moved backwards slowly till your hips settled at your desk edge, leaving you nowhere to move, you leaned on that desk a bit with your hands anchoring your position helping your feet that were barely reaching the floor, my lips had been kissing yours non-stop till they moved down to your neck, fueled by the heat of that moment I was kissing all over you, reaching your chest my hands were holding both of your tits squeezing gently, my lips moved down slowly lying plenty of soft kisses around trying not to miss a single spot, my eyes were so hooked to yours as I continued kissing around your belly button and down to your abdomen, it was when I reach your white panties’ line, looking at you still, watching your eyes flip and hearing your suppressed moans, with my teeth only I took your panties down right under your hips, barely exposing what it was exactly hiding.
“Would you like something else, sir?” the waitress asked.
I was so lost in thought, I hadn’t even noticed her approach. All I could feel was the fading heat between my fingers—the cigarette nearly burned down. Her voice pulled me back like a sharp tug from a distant place.
Snapped out of those mental flashes, I responded, though my voice barely made it out.
“No, thank you... that would be all.”
She barely heard me, but nodded politely before walking away.
A few minutes later, I was driving again. The sun had shifted, now shining directly into my eyes. I lowered the sun visor, and there—staring back at me from the mirror—was a 45-year-old man.
A few grey hairs. Brown eyes. Slightly unshaven beard. Still handsome—or so people say—but I couldn’t ignore the marks time had left behind. The lines around my eyes, the subtle wear on my face. They told stories I rarely said out loud.
Miles and miles driven, unaware of time as it passed, and there I was at some traffic light turning yellow then red so I stopped. Here I was again on my knees in between your legs, kissing your pubic area before my lips reached your clit, squeezing it in between as i moved my mouth playing it, my tongue joined my lips lubricating what they were squeezing, my hands left their anchor at your tits only to hold your hips so you couldn’t get your waist anywhere but closer. I opened my mouth wide enough to have all your pussy in, my tongue licking its lips, sliding in as deep as it could, touching its inner walls rubbing against them feeling your pussy getting wetter. I turned my head a little so I could kiss your pussy lips the way I was kissing your lips, my tongue was going deeper trying to get your juices from their very source.
Your hands held my head guiding my moves, till you raised it up so my eyes could look at yours, you kept holding my head as you fully stood me up, kissed my lips again tasting your own juices that were all over my lips, slid your panties down the whole way before you hugged me again, feeling my hard dick rubbing against your clit with short moves that got faster, guided by your hand that was squeezing my dick harder before shoving it slowly inside your hot wet welcoming pussy. Your hand was still grabbing my dick, stroking it with a firm grab while you made sure its tip didn’t leave your pussy. You raised your hips up to the edge of your desk, raised your thighs a bit higher adjusting your position so I could go all the way in, while your arms brought my waist so close, making sure that my dick won’t slip out. Your smooth shaved pussy was squeezing me tight, your suppressed moans added more heat to that moment, I held you by the shoulders bringing you even closer, watching your tits bouncing with every stroke as we got wilder, blood rushed to your face as you were getting so close to cum, then moments later I could feel your pussy’s tiny contractions announcing it.
A long car horn blared behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up—green light. I hadn’t even noticed. I pressed the gas to quiet the growing frustration behind me and drove forward, still not fully present.
A few blocks later, I pulled over at the nearest spot, left the engine running, and reached again for the perfume. I took a slow, deep inhale. That familiar scent filled my lungs, and in an instant, I was back in her office—Miss Williams’ office—just moments before I had left.
I remember standing in front of the oval mirror hanging beside the door, catching my reflection... and yours. You were behind me, quietly fixing your clothes, adjusting yourself back into the composed version of the professor the world knew.
“I’m counting on your complete discretion, Joe,” you said, your voice suddenly sharp and serious—no trace of playfulness left.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I replied, turning slightly to meet your eyes.
“You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” My tone was calm, reassuring.
You gave me a faint smile.
“You haven’t failed to impress me still.”
“Like I said before— I aim to please,“ I replied.
We both knew—even without saying it aloud—that it was a one-time thing.
That final exchange… those words... they weren’t casual.
They were a quiet, elegant farewell.
