I guess freak happenings come in pairs. The professor called me completely out of the blue and asked me to dinner next Tuesday, which works well for me as I will be on my own Tuesday night and I can use it as an excuse to not see Dr. Spoocher. Even though Dr. Spoocher wanted to see me around noon, as is his norm. He just doesn’t have to know that my conflict isn’t until much later.
Maybe he can find someone else’s pants to spooch on.
As for my dinner date, I am a bit nervous. I have been thinking about the professor quite a bit lately and despite his application of blackmail to get me out of my clothes, I have found myself missing his attention.
I have been telling you that I am a bit complicated.
I can’t imagine any other reason for him to want to have dinner with me than to get me to strip for him, but he has never offered to buy me dinner before. Well, at least he can pay for my meal, before I show him my undies.
I awoke Tuesday morning to find four inches of snow on the ground. For God’s sake, it is supposed to be spring outside. I guess I need to wear something a little warmer particularly if I am going to be undressed outdoors. Since I don’t have thermal panties, I decided to wear a garter belt and stockings, so at least my legs won’t be bare.
I think that I have shared many times how much I despise pantyhose. The tight band around my waist that leaves a nice little groove when I take them off and their complete lack of breath ability seems to indicate that a man invented them.
Besides all of that they pretty much grip and hold everything in place so my wiggle goes away when I walk.
Now you certainly don’t want my wiggle to go away do you?
At precisely 8:00 P.M. the professor appears at my front door wearing a camel colored sport coat, gray worsted wool pants, and a light blue turtleneck that looks like it might be cashmere. I am quite impressed that he made the effort to look more distinguished than I remember him to be. And besides, the color of his turtleneck perfectly highlights his blue eyes that are now staring at me as I stand in my doorway staring back.
“You look quite lovely.” He says to me and I feel myself blush.
I decided to wear a dark bronze colored blouse and a tight fitting black sweater skirt. Although the skirt is a bit short it is warm and shows me off in all of the right places, not that I had that in mind when I chose to wear it.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I reply with a nervous swallow.
This is so different than any of our prior meetings.
He is a perfect gentleman, which seems to make me more nervous than when he forced me to undress outdoors.
He drives me to a very nice restaurant located only about a mile from our prospective houses. After we order, the professor startles me with his opening conversation. He wants to apologize for essentially blackmailing me to undress in front of him.
I am almost disappointed to receive his apology, as it certainly seems that I won’t be entertaining him later.
Did I already tell you that I am a bit complicated?
Then he really opens up his secrets to me.
It seems that he has been watching me for a couple of years now as I strolled by in the morning in my shorts and t-shirt to exercise at the park. He tells me that he started setting his alarm clock to make sure that he was outside on his enclosed porch in time to see me parade by.
Then he would go back into the house, make a pot of coffee, and read his newspaper on the porch until I was finished and paraded back home again.
He admits to having a crush on me for quite some time.
I ask him why he decided to blackmail me and he explains that the day that he saw me surrounded by the neighborhood boys standing in just a pair of string bikini panties was the first time in over 8 years that he had experienced an erection.
Do confessions regarding little crushes often segue to discussions about erections?
I was surprised at how open and honest he was with me and how unembarrassed as well.
He told me that just like most men his age he suffered from erectile dysfunction and truly believed that he would never experience a good erection again. However seeing me outdoors in just my panties not only brought him back to attention (Yes, he used the word ‘attention’), he also had had a most pleasant orgasm shortly after rescuing me.
I decided not to ask whether his orgasm was self-induced.
I found his honesty to be endearing and found myself growing fonder of him by the minute.
He also said that each subsequent meeting that he had arranged with me met with the same wonderful result. I admitted to him that I had noticed the tent pole forming in his pants whenever we were together.
We both laughed.
He also explained the rumors about him having lost tenure at the university because of encouraging young women to pose for him. It wasn’t quite as sensational as the rumors, but the head of the psychology dept. (Dr. Spoocher??) had always disliked him and had fabricated stories about him and his female students. The university felt cornered by the allegations and subsequently asked him to retire.
He added that he has greatly enjoyed looking at his collection of photos of me particularly the ones taken over the past few months.
I again blushed, but still asked how long he had been taking photos. It was so cute to see him look down and then respond, “Over 3 years now.”
My jaw dropped a little and I could feel a warm sensation flood the intimate area between my legs.
This very distinguished; intelligent, and good-looking neighbor of mine has been stealing photos of me for the entire time that we have been neighbors.
“I really would like to see his collection”, I thought to myself.
He continued by telling me that when he saw the opportunity to have me strip for him, he couldn’t help himself. It had been one of his reoccurring fantasies to see me in my undies.
I told him that I felt honored to have played a role in his resurrection and he laughed so hard I thought that he would pass out.
All too soon our dinner was over, but on the way home, he asked whether I would mind taking a walk with him in the park. It still was a little cold out, but it was a spring kind of cold instead of a winter kind. I said, “Sure.”
I quickly excused myself to use the bathroom before we left the restaurant. I was in such a rush to get back to the professor that I didn’t do the best job of reattaching my garter snaps.
As we approached the playground area, I was feeling a bit naughty especially as a result of the professor’s owning up to having a little crush on me. I thought that maybe I would show him a little leg. As I started to open my coat I felt both the front and back garter straps on my right leg snap open.
“Oh poop!” I said and the professor asked what was wrong.
I told him about my garter straps having come undone, but I could wait until we got back to the car to fix them. Of course, I had no intention of waiting, but wanted to hear how the professor would respond.
With a sly little grin the professor replied, “Why wait?”
I couldn’t have been more pleased with his implied request to see up my skirt.
Needless to say the thumping in my chest started almost immediately and all of the saliva in my mouth seemed to dry up. I began to shake in anticipation of what I was about to do.
I turned towards the professor to make sure that he had a good view and with a big smile said, “Well, if I fix my straps here I will have to open my coat (which I did) and then pull my skirt all of the way up to almost my crotch like this (I then did this as well). You might even get a glimpse of my panties.” I made sure that he got a very good glimpse of my panties.
All that came out of the professor’s mouth was, “Oh”.
As I lifted my leg up onto the bench of a nearby picnic table my body hugging skirt easily slid all of the way to the top of my thigh giving the professor a complete view of my royal blue garter strap.
As I reattached the clasp to the top of my stocking, I heard the professor let out another little sign of satisfaction.
The cold air on my bare thigh was intoxicating and despite goose bumps forming on my exposed skin, I was feeling quite warm.
It now seemed only appropriate that I confirm the professor’s statement regarding my ability to resurrect.
He had told me how he had fantasized about seeing me in my undies and I have been fantasizing about seeing him squirt. It was time for my fantasies to be realized as well.
I took my foot off of the picnic bench and lifted my skirt all of the way to my crotch. Suddenly it wasn’t cold at all. Everything that was exposed as well as covered was feeling quite warm.
The professor’s expression told me immediately that my skirt lifting had revealed more than my leg. And if I hadn’t had his expression for confirmation, the cool night air on my now wet crotch told me all I needed to know.
I reattached the back clasp to my stocking leaving my skirt still up and over my thighs and walked to a nearby swing taking a seat on the cold vinyl. The feel of the cold vinyl on my bare thighs gave me more than goose bumps. I was getting quite aroused.
I looked over at the professor with my most seductive grin while my lower lips undulated quite pleasantly.
I was enjoying this almost too much.
Now normally a person on a swing would expect the other person to move behind them and to offer a push. To my extreme satisfaction, the professor moved in front of me as I started to swing.
I would lean way back in the seat with my hands gripping the chains and my arms fully extended pushing my legs straight out in front of me.
Then as I reached a position as far forward as my momentum could take me, I would throw my body forward tucking my legs underneath me and allow myself to go backwards.
With each thrust of my legs forward, my bottom would slide on the vinyl seat of the swing pulling my short skirt higher up my legs until I was barely sitting on the hem of the skirt.
The professor stood frozen in place watching my completely uncovered legs stretch towards him, as the nylon fabric of my tiny bikini panties would pull tightly against my throbbing and swollen lips.
I did nothing to try and hide my excitement pushing my pelvis forward giving my private voyeur an unobstructed view of my wet crotch and clinging panties.
The poor professor was almost beside himself as I gave him every reason to touch himself.
My entire body was shaking as I let the swing come to a stop. I wanted. No! I needed to see the professor spray his white crème across the untainted snow.
As if in a daze I walked towards the spot where the professor was standing, placing my hand directly on his groin. He was hard, very hard.
I rubbed him from the top of his zipper to the bottom luxuriating in his soft moan of pleasure, feeling his firm ridge of flesh push against the palm of my hand.
My coat was still open and was no longer needed as my body temperature had risen considerably within the last 10 minutes. I slipped it off of my shoulders and placed it on the picnic table within arms reach of us.
I tucked the hem of my skirt into the waistband turning it into a fabric belt that covered virtually none of me from the waist down.
Pushing the professor backwards until he was sitting on top of the picnic table while still keeping my one hand firmly buried in his crotch I stretched myself across his side feigning the need to move my coat back but in actuality giving him a full view of my barely covered bottom as the pendulum motion of the swing along with my pumping action had pretty much pulled the nylon material between my cheeks.
I felt his snake twitch and knew that he was getting close.
It seemed the perfect time to introduce his erection to the night air.
Have I mentioned that besides all of my other recently discovered tendencies towards forced exhibitionism, spankings, and submission, I love to see a man ejaculate; particularly one who understands my other tendencies.
The professor was most certainly one of those men and it was time for a wet and wild fireworks show.
I straddled one of the professor’s knees with my nylon-covered crotch while moving his other knee as far away from my body as I could. He leaned back on his hands as I pulled his zipper down and with very little effort on my part out popped his beautifully swollen and deep red organ.
The little drops of liquid were quite evident on his perfectly formed helmet and I used them to lubricate the entire head.
It was absolutely hypnotic watching his penis twitch each time I rubbed my finger across its mushroom shaped head.
The professor leaned further back pushing his pelvis forward letting out a deep groan of ecstasy straight up to the stars.
I slid my hand down under his protruding head taking a hold of his shaft and pulled the rest of him up and out into the night air.
As I simultaneously rubbed my moist crotch back and forth on the leg of his wool worsted pants essentially humping him, I gripped his erection rubbing my hand all the way down to origin of his shaft and then back up to just under the head.
The professor and I got into a rhythm of our own as both of our pelvises moved back and forth. I was about to let loose applying my joy juice to the fine fabric of his pants leg while at the same time feeling the professor’s erection tense within my grip as it loaded itself for the first big splash, however at this precise moment a clarity of reason passed through me and I realized that the professor was about to cover both himself as well as myself with semen, which would not be easily explained should we happen to meet anyone on our way back to the car.
I quickly slid off of his leg and practically dove into his lap making sure that my mouth covered his soon to erupt penis feeling the first warm spurt of liquid hit the back of my throat.
I didn’t have the luxury of time to savor the salty taste of his spunk knowing that I needed to quickly swallow before the next stream of ejaculate filled my mouth.
I virtually gulped following each wet spasm of release until the professor was about finished.
I would guess that it had been quite some time since he had had a woman’s mouth sucking on his penis, as I hadn’t expected so much liquid particularly from a person of his age.
At least now I could take the time to truly taste his jism as his shrinking head oozed that last remaining secretions into my mouth. I used my tongue to play with the very sensitive ridge that splits the head of a penis coaxing every last lick of liquid from his softening member.
Do you ever fantasize about something only to be disappointed when it becomes real? This was just the opposite for me. It far exceeded any fantasies that I had ever held involving the professor and my now very wet crotch verified it.
It was one of the sexiest things that I have ever been a part of as I found myself still shaking long after the professor had put himself away.
Once my body had a chance to return to its normal state without feeling so sexually charged the now very familiar feelings of regret and remorse started to seep in.
My mind became filled with questions about my lack of propriety and overwhelming need for sexual adventure.
My forlorn and shame filled eyes looked over at the professor and he was able to read my mind immediately.
I thought that he would now take me home to let me wallow in my self induced misery, but instead the professor very unexpectedly took a hold of my black skirt yanking it down my legs until the elastic waistband was wrapped around my calves. He then pulled me forward across his lap and smacked me across my wet and sticking royal blue panties.
I let out a yelp of surprise and pain as my body was no longer immune to the effects of the cold night air increasing the stinging of his bare hand on my bottom.
His next move was to yank my blouse well up my back so nothing obstructed his view or aim of my barely covered bottom.
Another stinging smack to my backside sent me into convulsions of pain and pleasure and before long I was again lost to the sweet release of regret that seems to follow each of my excursions into depravity.
How the professor knew that I longed for this kind of physical reprimand was beyond my comprehension, but the experience of being stripped to not much more than a pair of thin nylon panties in a public setting and then spanked completely gratified my unexpressed desire to be punished.
I welcomed each stinging slap to my exposed skin and I became easily lost to the sensations of pain and humiliation.
The professor knows me intimately; possibly even better than I know myself.
His exhibition of control and authority over me was intoxicating. I welcomed his firm hand across my taut and reddening cheeks.
It seems to be the only way for me to exorcise the sexual demons that I give in to so regularly. It is the only way that I am able to return to a normal life and not get lost completely in an erotic play land of my own making.
Once the professor knew that I have had enough with my entire body now enveloped in sweat, he directed me to remove my skirt from around my legs, to pick up my coat, and to follow him back to his car.
Once I was seated inside I attempted to put my skirt back on, but the professor shook his head and motioned for me to toss it into the back seat. I complied without question.
As we pulled up to the driveway of my house, I noted that the lights were still off so no one had arrived home in my absence.
I moved to drape my coat over my shoulders and again the professor prevented me from covering up.
“It is supposed to warm up again starting tomorrow, so you shouldn’t need a winter coat anymore. You can leave it in the car and retrieve it some other time. I believe that you will know when.”
I didn’t quite understand what he was telling me, but I opened the door and stepped out into the night wearing only a deep bronze colored metallic blouse that barely reached the top of my garters, my matching royal blue garter belt and bikini panties, blue stockings, and my brown lizard skin high heels.
The snow on the driveway was difficult to walk on in my heels and I almost planted my bottom in the snow a couple of times as I made my way to my door.
About halfway to my door I realized two things that caused my breath to freeze in my lungs.
One, I am completely exposed by the street light that sits at the bottom of my driveway so anyone looking out their window at this time of night can easily see my scantily clad walk of shame, and
Two, the professor drives a very unique old car that everyone in the neighborhood would easily recognize as his. And the fact that it is still sitting at the bottom of my driveway with the passenger side door wide open would leave no doubt to any interested party who I had been with tonight.
I didn’t even dare to see if any of my neighbors might be looking out their windows and could only imagine what might become of me if they were.
Is this the professor’s way to extend my feeling of humiliation and shame?
Is the professor demonstrating his control over me as well as my actions?
Or does he just want to prolong the view of me in my panties?
As I pondered each question one at a time, the motion detector above my door activates and floods my entire body in light.