Melinda Matson - A seductive student

When her nipples had shriveled up into tight points, he stopped rubbing them. He looked down at his handiwork with almost clinical detachment. "Nice pair of tits," he said.

Joselyn felt her face burn with pleasure and shame. She wanted him to do more, to take her tender buds in his mouth and bite and suck them. He did not…

Dr. Velasquez stepped back from her, leaving her tank top pulled up, her breasts exposed. "Tell me about Bertrand," he said, grinning fiercely.

Joselyn had to shut her eyes and take a deep breath to pull herself together before she could speak. His casual touch had started a bonfire going between her thighs.

"He mailed the proposal this morning," she said. "He seemed elated that things worked out so well. He was so relieved that he didn't make much of a fuss when I told him I was quitting."

"You're damn right he was relieved!" the professor said, gleefully. "He didn't think he had a snowball's chance in hell of ever getting out of the corner he'd boxed himself into. That stupid cretin probably thinks some benevolent angel stepped in to save him!"

The blonde tried to smile, but somehow she could not share the professor's enthusiasm. There was a slight hysterical edge to his merriment that deeply disturbed her.

"I'm going to let him stay 'relieved' for a couple of weeks," he went on, his eyes gleaming. "Until after I have a chance to address the Foundation board as to my suspicions. Once I know that they're going to act against him, I'll start dropping hints around the department. Oh, it's going to be such a pleasure to see that jerk leave here in disgrace!"

Joselyn stood there, her breasts bared, her nipples beginning to soften, to spread out into round ring. She felt awkward, ill at ease…

The professor looked at her suddenly, as if just remembering that she was present. He scowled at her naked breasts. "You can put those jugs away," he said.

The blonde's face flushed, but she did as he asked, pulling her tank top down… She had something to tell him, something important, and she wasn't sure how he would take it. The longer she waited, the harder it was getting, so she just blurted it out.

"I've decided to move out of Paul's apartment," she said, her eyes searching his desperately.

"Really?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, stumbling ahead full tilt. "I just couldn't stand to be with him anymore. Not after being with you. I don't ever want to be with anyone else, ever again."

Dr. Velasquez regarded her curiously. "Are you telling me that you're in love with me?" he said.

Joselyn caught the mocking tone in his voice, but she refused to be crushed by it. She told herself if she could show him how much he meant to her, if she could prove it to him, he'd have to love her back.

"Yes, yes, I am," she said.

The professor smiled at her. "How wonderful for you," he said.

The blonde winced, biting her lower lip. Velasquez grinned even more broadly, grinned like a crocodile. "Maybe you'd like to come over to my place this evening?" he said. "We could talk about it some more… in a place where we won't be disturbed."

"What?"

"My apartment," he told her, walking around the corner of his desk and taking a seat in his swivel chair. "At about six."

Joselyn's pulse rate soared. She couldn't believe that he wasn't playing with her, teasing her. "Really?" she asked, breathlessly.

He gave her an arch look. "Unless you have some other plans," he said.

"No! Of course not," she told him. She wanted to jump for joy.

"I'll see you then," he said, indicating with a nod of his head that she was dismissed.

She walked out of that office on Cloud Nine. She spent the rest of the day in the graduate research library in one of the little study cubicles. She wasn't studying Chemistry, though. She was mulling over what Dr. Velasquez had said to her, trying to stretch the most amount of meaning from it. An invitation to his apartment undoubtedly implied sex and that, in itself, was enough to make her head swim. And, an invitation to his apartment coming immediately after she'd told him she was moving out on Paul could possibly mean he intended on offering to let her move in with him. The thought of that, of being around "her man" all the time, of serving him in all ways, made her want to run shouting through the library, shouting her happiness.

She made sure that she showed up at his apartment at precisely six p.m., even though it meant she had to wait in a downstairs hallway for ten minutes. As she rang the bell, she thought she could hear voices coming from inside, but the stereo was so loud she couldn't be sure.

The door opened and, instead of coming face to face with the man she adored, Joselyn found herself staring at a girl of no more than eighteen, a very pretty girl dressed in a pale blue, baby doll style negligee.

"Hi," the girl said, brushing her long, straight blonde hair from her face. Though the frilly top of the peignoir was totally sheer, though the small, high breasts, the round red nipples could be easily seen through it, she made no move to cover herself from Joselyn's stare. "You must be Joselyn. Come on in. The party's just about to start."

Joselyn was too stunned, too crushed to do anything more than walk past the girl. Her little fantasy of a romantic interlude with Velasquez went straight down the toilet.

There were three men sitting on the couch in the living room. None of them happened to be the professor. They were all dressed as if they'd just returned from a workout at the handball court, rumpled, sweat-stained t-shirts, gym shorts and court shoes.

"Man, alive!" said the fellow closest to Joselyn, his eyes licking greedily over her body. He was short, plump, about 45 years old. His complexion was florid, his thinning hair a dark, wavy red. He violently nudged the man sitting next to him. "I don't believe it," the nudged fellow said, shaking his head. He was the oldest of the three and the tallest, like a salt and pepper thatched string bean. His deeply tanned skin was like leather.

"Here," said the third man, patting the tops of his hairy thighs. His body was covered with matted black hair. It stuck out of the neck of his t-shirt in thick tufts. The top of his head, however, was bald as an egg. His features were coarse, knobby; his smile absolutely obscene. "Come over here and sit," he repeated, waving at Joselyn.

She felt her face flush with embarrassment. "Is Dr. Velasquez here? I came to see Dr. Velasquez," she said.

"Sure, he's here," the plump man said, staring at her crotch.

"Sugar," the tall one said to the young blonde, "why don't you go and get your lord and master? Tell him he's wanted out here."

Joselyn flinched at the "lord and master" bit… then flinched again as the girl turned her back on them and walked through a door into the bedroom. The seat of her negligee was sheer, too. Through it, the round, tight cheeks of her ass could be seen, and between them, just a hint of soft, blonde fuzz.

"Christ, what I'd give for fifteen minutes with that!" the hairy man groaned.

Joselyn suddenly felt very dizzy. Everything had become so confused. What was that young girl doing here dressed like that? What were these three leering animals doing here? Where was her professor?

Her last question was answered first. Dr. Velasquez stepped into the living room, followed by the little blonde.

"Glad you could make it," he said to Joselyn.

Joselyn could only gape at him. For one thing, he was completely naked, for another, his entire body was oiled, gleaming, every hair plastered to his swarthy skin, and he was sporting a monstrous erection.

"Allow me to introduce you all," he said. "Joselyn, this is Charlene. She's one of my brighter undergraduate students."

Charlene nodded and smiled, but she wasn't looking at Joselyn; she was mesmerized by the lewdly swaying staff of his penis.