jjonah
06-18-2021, 07:11 PM
~1~
Professor Margaret Monaghan stood at the lectern, waxing philosophical about the Shakespearean story that was today's topic, her lilting Irish accent lulling most of her students into a vague sort of semi-consciousness that had heads nodding and eyelids drooping until the sound of one of the doors at the top of the stadium-stepped lecture hall opening and banging shut startled a few dozen spines to snap back into an upright position. Heads turned to regard the newcomer, a slender young man wearing a black baseball cap, dark sunglasses, a black Metallica t-shirt, and faded blue jeans.
Professor Monaghan, a known stickler for punctuality, paused with a look of anger as she drew breath to harangue the intruder. Knowing her reputation as a real ball-buster, most of the students eagerly braced themselves for the tirade, but the target of her ire gave a little wave of his hand and she stuttered to a stop with a brief look of confusion crossing her face. The newcomer took a seat in the back row as Professor Monaghan haltingly resumed where she had left off.
For the next few minutes, nothing unusual occurred, then the stranger rose from his seat and sauntered slowly down the steps. He had pulled a black gaiter mask up over his lower face. with his hat pulled low and sunglasses, his identity was completely hidden. As the students started noticing him, a few murmurs arose and nervous energy began to percolate as tales of school shootings popped into various heads.
"I will have quiet!" Professor Monaghan barked in her Irish brogue.
As the class settled again, she resumed her lecture, completely ignoring the presence of the mysterious stranger as he reached the front of the class and mounted the dais. She continued in her normal tone even as he stepped up behind her and reached around to unbutton then remove her Irish-green blazer. He tossed the blazer onto the nearby desk, then began to untuck her white blouse from her plaid skirt. She continued to lecture normally as she lifted her arms to afford him more access to her buttons. There were audible gasps as the blouse came off, revealing her black bra.
"QUIET PLEASE!"
The guy in the mask nodded toward the students, somehow mockingly even though his features were hidden. Then he unzipped her skirt and pushed it over her ample hips to the floor. The professor dutifully stepped out of the skirt, still droning on with the lecture. The masked man tossed it to the desk, also, then did a bit of a flourish, as if presenting the professor in her undies to the by-now rapt audience.
At 48, the Prof was a bit plump but fairly fit at about five-and-a-half feet and a hundred-forty some-odd pounds as she stood in front of the class in nothing but bra and pantyhose. Her dark red hair in its severe bun contrasted the near-nudity of her milky white skin. Of a sudden, she reached up to unpin that bun at the same time as the man in black unsnapped her bra. As her wavy hair tumbled down, so did her breasts, dropping nearly to her waist. Each one round and heavy, with thick blue veins visible beneath the almost translucent skin and capped with huge, pale-pink areolas around her thick pink nipples.
The lecture continued, even as the man stepped up close behind to reach around and fondle the huge tits. After a thorough groping, he pushed the waist of the pantyhose down to mid-thigh exposing a full bush so dark red as to almost appear black against the gleaming backdrop of her pale skin. His hand dropped between her legs, ruffling the thick pubes before delving deeper.
"Show us her ass!" a voice suddenly called from somewhere near the back.
The Professor's voice faltered as her head snapped up, but then that confused, almost blank stare crossed her face.
The dark one brought a shushing finger up to his mask-covered lips, but then spun the Prof around, grabbing a plump white cheek in each hand, squeezing and shaking the jiggly globes with their smattering hint of cellulite. After a good showing, he spun her face-forward again and pushed her shoulders forward, so she assumed an ass-out stance with her legs spread as wide as the bunched pantyhose allowed.
As his hands disappeared behind the Professor's thick booty, the nearer students could hear the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered, then, as he crouched to line himself up, the Professor let out a low moan. This time the gasp that went through the student crowd went unanswered, save for more moaning as the stranger began to fuck her with abandon.
The professor leaned heavily on the lectern, huge titties and soft belly hanging down to swing freely as the lanky figure held her by the perfectly proportioned love handles and pumped his pelvis at a breakneck pace against her wildly jiggling ass. The professor's voice rang out over the sound of the smacking.
"Oh fook yes, give me that lovely cock!" her suddenly thicker Irish accent cried desperately. "Fook me with that cock! Fook me! FOOK MEEEEEEE!" she wailed like the proverbial Irish banshee as a powerful orgasm nearly buckled her knees.
Moments later, the stranger with the lovely cock suddenly pulled out as the Professor, timing it perfectly, spun around and fell to her knees in front of him and swallowed said cock eagerly. He stiffened and shoved his spewing cock down her throat as he grabbed two handfuls of her now-wild mane. She whimpered appreciatively through her nose as she gulped down what seemed a healthy load.
The stranger allowed her to suck him sensuously for another minute or two as his breathing calmed as indicated by the vacillations of his mask. Finally, he pulled away from her, tucked his dick away, and zipped up. The Professor came up licking her lips delectably as she pulled up her pantyhose. She retrieved her bra and began redressing as the lanky Man in Black began climbing the steps toward the exit.
Every face regarded him with wide-eyed disbelief at what they had just witnessed, although more than a few, mostly frat-boy types, grinned with unabashed admiration, a couple in aisle seats even high-fiving him as he sauntered past. There was a dull uproar beginning to erupt in the lecture hall as he pushed through the door.
"QUIET!" the Irish brogue screeched. "Now," the Professor pronounced into the sudden silence as the door clanged shut. She stood back at the lectern, fully clothed, pinning her hair back into a less-neat version of its earlier bun. "Back to
The Taming of the Shrew..."
Professor Margaret Monaghan stood at the lectern, waxing philosophical about the Shakespearean story that was today's topic, her lilting Irish accent lulling most of her students into a vague sort of semi-consciousness that had heads nodding and eyelids drooping until the sound of one of the doors at the top of the stadium-stepped lecture hall opening and banging shut startled a few dozen spines to snap back into an upright position. Heads turned to regard the newcomer, a slender young man wearing a black baseball cap, dark sunglasses, a black Metallica t-shirt, and faded blue jeans.
Professor Monaghan, a known stickler for punctuality, paused with a look of anger as she drew breath to harangue the intruder. Knowing her reputation as a real ball-buster, most of the students eagerly braced themselves for the tirade, but the target of her ire gave a little wave of his hand and she stuttered to a stop with a brief look of confusion crossing her face. The newcomer took a seat in the back row as Professor Monaghan haltingly resumed where she had left off.
For the next few minutes, nothing unusual occurred, then the stranger rose from his seat and sauntered slowly down the steps. He had pulled a black gaiter mask up over his lower face. with his hat pulled low and sunglasses, his identity was completely hidden. As the students started noticing him, a few murmurs arose and nervous energy began to percolate as tales of school shootings popped into various heads.
"I will have quiet!" Professor Monaghan barked in her Irish brogue.
As the class settled again, she resumed her lecture, completely ignoring the presence of the mysterious stranger as he reached the front of the class and mounted the dais. She continued in her normal tone even as he stepped up behind her and reached around to unbutton then remove her Irish-green blazer. He tossed the blazer onto the nearby desk, then began to untuck her white blouse from her plaid skirt. She continued to lecture normally as she lifted her arms to afford him more access to her buttons. There were audible gasps as the blouse came off, revealing her black bra.
"QUIET PLEASE!"
The guy in the mask nodded toward the students, somehow mockingly even though his features were hidden. Then he unzipped her skirt and pushed it over her ample hips to the floor. The professor dutifully stepped out of the skirt, still droning on with the lecture. The masked man tossed it to the desk, also, then did a bit of a flourish, as if presenting the professor in her undies to the by-now rapt audience.
At 48, the Prof was a bit plump but fairly fit at about five-and-a-half feet and a hundred-forty some-odd pounds as she stood in front of the class in nothing but bra and pantyhose. Her dark red hair in its severe bun contrasted the near-nudity of her milky white skin. Of a sudden, she reached up to unpin that bun at the same time as the man in black unsnapped her bra. As her wavy hair tumbled down, so did her breasts, dropping nearly to her waist. Each one round and heavy, with thick blue veins visible beneath the almost translucent skin and capped with huge, pale-pink areolas around her thick pink nipples.
The lecture continued, even as the man stepped up close behind to reach around and fondle the huge tits. After a thorough groping, he pushed the waist of the pantyhose down to mid-thigh exposing a full bush so dark red as to almost appear black against the gleaming backdrop of her pale skin. His hand dropped between her legs, ruffling the thick pubes before delving deeper.
"Show us her ass!" a voice suddenly called from somewhere near the back.
The Professor's voice faltered as her head snapped up, but then that confused, almost blank stare crossed her face.
The dark one brought a shushing finger up to his mask-covered lips, but then spun the Prof around, grabbing a plump white cheek in each hand, squeezing and shaking the jiggly globes with their smattering hint of cellulite. After a good showing, he spun her face-forward again and pushed her shoulders forward, so she assumed an ass-out stance with her legs spread as wide as the bunched pantyhose allowed.
As his hands disappeared behind the Professor's thick booty, the nearer students could hear the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered, then, as he crouched to line himself up, the Professor let out a low moan. This time the gasp that went through the student crowd went unanswered, save for more moaning as the stranger began to fuck her with abandon.
The professor leaned heavily on the lectern, huge titties and soft belly hanging down to swing freely as the lanky figure held her by the perfectly proportioned love handles and pumped his pelvis at a breakneck pace against her wildly jiggling ass. The professor's voice rang out over the sound of the smacking.
"Oh fook yes, give me that lovely cock!" her suddenly thicker Irish accent cried desperately. "Fook me with that cock! Fook me! FOOK MEEEEEEE!" she wailed like the proverbial Irish banshee as a powerful orgasm nearly buckled her knees.
Moments later, the stranger with the lovely cock suddenly pulled out as the Professor, timing it perfectly, spun around and fell to her knees in front of him and swallowed said cock eagerly. He stiffened and shoved his spewing cock down her throat as he grabbed two handfuls of her now-wild mane. She whimpered appreciatively through her nose as she gulped down what seemed a healthy load.
The stranger allowed her to suck him sensuously for another minute or two as his breathing calmed as indicated by the vacillations of his mask. Finally, he pulled away from her, tucked his dick away, and zipped up. The Professor came up licking her lips delectably as she pulled up her pantyhose. She retrieved her bra and began redressing as the lanky Man in Black began climbing the steps toward the exit.
Every face regarded him with wide-eyed disbelief at what they had just witnessed, although more than a few, mostly frat-boy types, grinned with unabashed admiration, a couple in aisle seats even high-fiving him as he sauntered past. There was a dull uproar beginning to erupt in the lecture hall as he pushed through the door.
"QUIET!" the Irish brogue screeched. "Now," the Professor pronounced into the sudden silence as the door clanged shut. She stood back at the lectern, fully clothed, pinning her hair back into a less-neat version of its earlier bun. "Back to
The Taming of the Shrew..."