BengalTiger33
Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 15, 2014
- Posts
- 76
Zoey sat in the front row of the lecture hall, always alone, with an untouched notebook open in front of her.
At first she didn't catch my eye. Professors get attractive students in their classes all the time. Ignoring our libidos is part of the job, and I had been teaching at the university for twelve years. Students came and went. I learned their names or not, tried to teach them a thing or two about history, hoped that some of it stuck, and moved on.
But since the divorce, I'd become increasingly lonely and felt my eye wandering toward my students.
Zoey had long, flowing black hair, large dark eyes, luscious kissable lips, and pale, unblemished skin. She wore her school uniform casually, the white blouse cupping her generous breasts, the navy blue skirt riding up past her knees to reveal creamy thighs. She always had something in her mouth, her tongue sometimes caressing a pen cap, or her lips catching a stray wisp of hair.
She would catch my eye during lectures and shift in her chair, exposing more thigh. One time, just after i had dismissed class, she dropped her pen. With exaggerated slowness, she bent over at the waist, her skirt hiking up to reveal a flash of black lace panties. I remember my breath catching when she did this, and I had to stand behind the podium to conceal my erection.
At first she didn't catch my eye. Professors get attractive students in their classes all the time. Ignoring our libidos is part of the job, and I had been teaching at the university for twelve years. Students came and went. I learned their names or not, tried to teach them a thing or two about history, hoped that some of it stuck, and moved on.
But since the divorce, I'd become increasingly lonely and felt my eye wandering toward my students.
Zoey had long, flowing black hair, large dark eyes, luscious kissable lips, and pale, unblemished skin. She wore her school uniform casually, the white blouse cupping her generous breasts, the navy blue skirt riding up past her knees to reveal creamy thighs. She always had something in her mouth, her tongue sometimes caressing a pen cap, or her lips catching a stray wisp of hair.
She would catch my eye during lectures and shift in her chair, exposing more thigh. One time, just after i had dismissed class, she dropped her pen. With exaggerated slowness, she bent over at the waist, her skirt hiking up to reveal a flash of black lace panties. I remember my breath catching when she did this, and I had to stand behind the podium to conceal my erection.
