So, I am walking through a museum with a group of my community college freshmen students and I’m not really paying very close attention to things, as we have a guided tour. One of the students, a nice looking young girl by the same of Sasha suddenly loops her arm undermine and gently pulls me aside from the main group.
I liked Sasha, because she was very astute and always very attentive in the classroom. I didn’t’t pay her any special attentions, simply because, well, first of all, it would be wrong and second, I am quite a few years older than most of the college coeds that I teach.
“Can we go somewhere else?” Sasha whispered, once we were out of the ear shot of the group.
“Where would you like to go?” I inquired.
“I don’t know,” she replied, ‘but I have already been through this tour in another class and this is boring!”
I had to agree with her on the boring part.
I stepped over and told the tour guide I was going to have to leave the class with him and that I’d rejoin them at the end of the tour. I was curious about this very young vixen in an unusual way, especially since she seemed so adamant about separating from the group.
Sasha and I made our way to the elevator. I had no idea where we were going to go or why, except that she seemed really super adamant about not staying with the tour group. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Sasha re-established her contact with me, slipping her arm undermine.
I didn’t’t think her bold and brazen move was a sexual advance, pushing the possibility to the back of my mind, but I could tell her closeness was by intention and design.
Sasha sported a very short one-piece pink jumpsuit-like ensemble that showed off plenty of leg and plenty of cleavage. Coupled with her straight long black hair that reached to the bottom curve of her lower back, Sasha looked like she was dressed more for shopping or perhaps clubbing than visiting a museum.
“Where to?” I unwittingly asked.
She reached out and hit the “LL” button on the elevator.
The elevator doors opened, and we stepped out into what I believe was the basement of the museum. I spotted a closed-circuit television camera on the wall. It appeared that Sasha knew the museum very well, since she directed us down the hallway and into a dark room about fifty feet from the elevator.
The room door automatically closed behind us and I stood there in the expanse of the room, in total darkness. waiting for my eyes to refocus and adjust. I must admit, I was a bit confused, until . . . when suddenly, I felt Sasha’s hand on my crotch. Astonished, I backed up against the wall. Sasha pressed herself up against me.
“I am horny,” she whispered, grabbing one of my hands and placing it directly on to her covered left breast.
“We shouldn’t’t-” I started to say.
Sasha placed her hand over my mouth. Then, the next thing I felt was her lips pressing against mine.
Whoa.
She grabbed my hand and pressed my hand on to her ass.
Damn.
I slipped my hand up under the edge of her dress and on to her buttocks. As I did, she let out a long moan of approval, even as she pushed her tongue deep into my mouth. There was just enough light creeping under the closed door of the space we were in, that I would easily make out the outline of her face.
“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered, as she felt for my quickly expanding tool through her groping.
“We can’t-“ I replied. “This is not a safe place.”
“Sure it is,” she replied. “I’ve fucked plenty of times down here. No one ever comes down here.”
Sasha dropped to her knees in front of me, unfastening my belt and snap that fastened my jeans. She yanked at my jeans, pulling them down. In an instant, she had progressed, totally unchallenged past the waistband of my underwear. She wrapped her fingers around my tool, pulling it from the confines of my underwear.
Sasha didn’t’t waste any time, as she eagerly and silently worked her tongue around the head of my cock, before slipping it into her mouth. I told her she was about to make me cum.
“No!” she exclaimed. “Hold on to it!”
Sasha stood up and even though it was pitch black in the room, there was just enough light for me to be able to see her quickly stripping out of her sexy little dress and unfastening her brassiere. I watched as she slipped out of her undies. She took my hand and placed it on her bare breast, and then slowly worked my hand down to her flat stomach and then to her pussy. She pushed my fingers on to her hooded clit and held them in place as she pressed herself closer to me.
I heel kicked off my tennis shoes and somehow, I managed to slip out of my jeans and my underwear. Sasha took hold of my tool and she wasn’t letting go. Even though the room was dark, my eyes had gotten used to the darkness. I could now see several rows of tables and chairs.
Sasha leaned forward on to one of the rows of tables and spread her legs. I slipped my tool up to her tiny little ass. I poked at her starfish.
“No,” she whispered, “the other one.”
As soon as I slipped inside of her, her pussy locked down on my tool. She loosened the grip after a few seconds, allowing for a deeper penetration. My testicles slapped against her buttocks as I worked my cock in and out of her warm and very moist little love box. She let out a grunt with each of my pushes. Her hands gripped the sides of the table.
“Give it to me,” she cried out between guttural grunts.
I open-palm slapped her ass and she suddenly, without any warning, she cut loose with a flood of bodily fluids. I couldn’t hold anything back at this point. I could feel my spurts going deep inside of her. I dug my fingers into her bare hips.
“Oh yeah!” she cried out as I filled her pussy to overflowing, my man-juice running down her leg. I pulled out and shot my last stream across her buttocks and lower back.
“Oh baby!” she cried out, “That was awesome, I mean AWESOME!”
We quickly re-dressed and then made our way to the lower level restrooms. I waited for her to come out and we quickly rejoined the group tour. I took a step back and was aghast. She had two large wet spots on the back of her little outfit. I’m sure others noticed them, but no one said anything.
The tour guide was finishing up his little spill and we stood at the back of the group. The tour guide asked if I had any comments. I told the group I appreciated their attendance at the event. One of the students sarcastically asked if they all now had a passing grade.
“Well,” I replied, “I know of at least one of you that does. The others, it will be depend on how you do on the remaining tests and the finals.”
I looked at Sasha and proffered a quick wink. She beamed a smile unlike anything I had ever seen before. Sasha was my first student to make the grade by doing what so few others would do. I was new at being a community college professor and I was quickly learning it was not as boring or bad a gig as I had thought it might be. . . .
