A Lesson In Philosophy: Chapter 2 free porn video
Lying in bed, my mind was filled with images of our evening together. How his luscious locks shined in the autumn moonlight. His lips were the kind of pink that reminded me of a rosebud. The top lip was thinner, but not too thin and it had a natural cupid’s bow; the bottom one was slightly plusher.
And I can only imagine how they’d feel against my own lips… How his teeth would feel grazing against my delicate skin... How his tongue would feel being traced over my nipples before dipping lower, and lower...
"Bend over Claire," he ordered, pushing softly on the small of my back, guiding me down over his desk.
Kneeling behind me, he rested his hands on the back of my thighs and spread my legs apart ever so slightly.
"Do you want me, Claire?" He asked, sliding his finger against my pussy in a torturously slow fashion.
"Oh please, Professor Kingsley." I pleaded breathlessly.
Placing his hands on my thighs once again, he pushed my legs further apart. Shivers darted through my entire body as he blew gently on my pussy before his tongue enveloped it. He was merciless in his assault; probing, flicking, sucking until my legs began to grow weak. Sensing I was on the brink of orgasm, he pulled away.
"Oh no, Claire, not yet." He warned in a dangerously low tone. "You're going to feel my entire length inside of you first..."
My alarm clock wailed miserably. Monday morning arrived right in time to destroy what was a fantastic dream.
As I trudged down the narrow corridor, Professor Kingsley caught my attention. He was dressed in a fitted suit of navy, with shoes as black as midnight. As always, well dressed. After last night’s dream, even seeing him made my pussy damp and cheeks glow a furious red.
“Ms. Walsh,” he called.
“Professor?”
“Tonight we have much to discuss about your program. However, I have a meeting that may cause me to be a little later than the seven o’clock timing we agreed upon. With that said, if you arrive before I do, feel free to let yourself in. I shouldn’t be far behind you. The address is 166 Main. My condo is on the top floor.”
“Alright, thank you, Professor Kingsley.”
With an innocent smile, I headed to class.
After what seemed like an eternity, classes came to an end. I had just finished getting warmed up for practice when the coach told me that there was someone who wanted to see me. How embarrassing, I thought to myself, they want to see me now while wearing shorts made of spandex that didn’t even cover all of my ass...
I made my way out of the gym and nearly fainted when I saw Professor Kingsley standing before me. I watched as his eyes travelled unapologetically up and down the length of my body. A slow smile spread across his face as his eyes reached mine.
“I would have called, but I didn’t get your number from you the other night. I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking care of my nephew’s kitten for a few days, so don’t be alarmed if he jumps out at you when you get there. You don’t have an allergy, do you?"
'Kittens, the man like kittens'. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any dreamier.
“No I’m not allergic and it’s no problem, thanks for the warning.” I smiled.
“Anyhow, I won’t keep you any longer, your coach wouldn’t be happy. Enjoy practice,” he grinned before making his exit.
As seven o’clock drew near, I still hadn’t made up my mind on what to wear. Comfy was absolutely not an option. Professor Kingsley was always dressed exquisitely, no way was I showing up in sweatpants, even though that was normally my go-to outfit for after school studying.
Standing only in my matching thong and bra, made of pink lace, I sifted through my closet. A skirt, a dress, jeans, leggings… so many possibilities. I decided that since we were meeting at his condo instead of public outing, a dress or skirt would make me appear desperate for his attention. Though, surely, it would be easier for him to take off me…
'That’s enough,' I thought to myself, 'he’s your professor and nothing more than that.' Shaking my head at my lustful fantasy, I slid on a very fitted pair of light jeans with a tight, pink lace top that had a deep V-line neck and hurried out the door. 'Sexy, and innocent,' I smiled to myself as I got in the car.
The journey to his condo seemed to last for decades. It appeared the entire city was driving around this evening, and every traffic light insisted on being red. Stop after stop after stop. Seven o’clock came and went.
I arrived at Professor Kingsley’s condo around quarter after. Surely this wouldn’t be a problem, right? After all, he did say he would be late.
The elevator ride felt to last at least another ten minutes, but finally, I found myself knocking on his door. The jitters that I felt when knocking on his office door came back with a vengeance. When the door swung open, I was startled to see him out of his normal businesslike attire. He stood before me wearing a fitted maroon colour shirt with dark jeans that rode low on his hips.
The annoyance was clear on his face. His brow was furrowed and eyes narrowed.
“Ms. Walsh, do you recall what time I told you to be here?” He asked rhetorically. “Do you know what time it is?”
“I’m really sorry Professor Kingsley, truly, I am. Traffic was terrible.”
“Punctuality, Ms. Walsh, is something that I take very seriously. I suggest you do the same. Sit.” He ordered, gesturing towards the large table.
To say his condo was magnificent would be an understatement. The familiar scent of iced pine lingered through the air. The floors were a dark marble that felt cool beneath my feet, while the walls in the dining room were a delightful shade of rose quartz. I was left breathless at the sheer size of his home.
I seated myself on the black leather ladderback chair and rested my hands on the laminated glass table. After being scolded by him, I felt a pinch of awkwardness and tried to avoid eye contact. Rather than looking at his eyes, I admired the way the maroon of his shirt complemented his skin, and how tightly it moulded to his chest.
I let my eyes travel down the length of his torso until they arrived at the slight bulge pressing against his jeans. I instantly felt a familiar tingle between my thighs and crossed my legs in an attempt to ease the ache that was growing stronger as each second passed.
“When I tell you seven o’clock, I mean seven o’clock. Am I understood?”
“Yes Professor, I’m sorry.”
With an exasperated sigh, he ran his hand through his hair and sat down across from me.
“I've prepared some readings for you to go over,” he said, placing a thick folder in front of me. “There is a lot in there, as you can see. But, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t all important. You'd do well to read them.”
For the better part of an hour, we discussed different philosophers and bounced ideas off of one another. Political philosophy seemed to interest him more than anything, so the vast majority of our conversation was based on various forms of government and how they best represent the natural tendencies of humans.
Eventually, my body began to feel the strain of being awake for over fifteen hours and a yawn escaped my lips.
“Tired are you, Ms. Walsh?”
“Quite,” I confirmed. “The life of a varsity athlete can be rather strenuous. Will we have to meet every day?”
He thought for a moment before replying, “Well no, I suppose not. Meeting every day would certainly benefit you, however. This is a lot to take on and should you fall behind for so much as a moment, it could have devastating effects on your grades. You’re far too gifted to be brought down by not investing enough time into the subject.”
After pausing for another brief moment, he cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Why wouldn’t you want to meet every day? Is something the matter?”
“It’s just my friend. She’s upset with me for blowing her off, Friday night.”
“You’re talking about Ms. Priscott?” he asked.
“Well, yes, Julia, but how did you know that?”
“This goes back to me not being deaf, Ms. Walsh. You two were in my class when she was trying to persuade you to go to that party that you were surprised I knew anything about. She isn’t exactly soft-spoken.”
I laughed aloud at the idea. 'Julia? Soft-spoken?' She had to be one of the loudest people I knew. “She’s anything but soft-spoken. But, she really is upset with me. She invited me out with her tomorrow night, and given that I blew her off three days ago, I really think that I should go.”
He cleared his throat and looked at me disapprovingly. “You’re telling me that you plan on going out on a Tuesday night? You are aware that there are classes the next morning, yes?”
“Yes, I understand that, obviously.”
He sighed dramatically. “Fine. We can skip tomorrow’s session. I can’t tell you what to do. However, be advised that extra time will have to be put in, in the following days to make up for it.”
Sensing the tension, I thought that it was the appropriate time to take my leave. I slid my jacket on and gathered my books in my arms.
“Well, thank you for the reading materials Professor. I appreciate it. However, I must be off. It’s late and I don’t want to be too exhausted driving home.”
“It was no problem, Ms. Walsh. You know that I enjoy conversing with intellectual pupils. Drive safe. I will see you on Wednesday, at seven o’clock, sharp.”
To be continued...
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