The following is a bit of a departure for me. Although I have often collaborated with friends of mine (all female) to bring their sex-ventures to life, this time my partner-in-crime is my own dear husband: Aaron. The story is his, told from his point of view. I hope you like it.
It happened during my senior year in college. I had just turned twenty-two. She had just celebrated her thirty-first. By all things ethical, what we did was wrong. There was no denying it. I was on the verge of having a complete (academic) meltdown. She was trying to get over catching her fiancé in bed with another woman. She was my advisor, and professor. I was her student. In today’s world, it probably wouldn’t be a big deal, but back in the early eighties . . . well . . .
I checked my watch. It was a couple minutes of two. I took a deep breath, then started down the hallway to Miss Sabrina Cohen’s office. Her door was half-open, but I knocked anyway.
“You wanted to see me, Miss Cohen?”
“I did, Mr Samuels. Step inside. Close the door.”
I did as told.
Nervously, I lowered myself onto the seat reserved for guests; or those about to learn what fate had in store. Sabrina Cohen spun in her desk chair. My eyes darted to her sexy legs. She caught me looking and crossed her left over right. I tried to avert my stare, but couldn’t. As a tease, she caressed the hem of her pastel blue dress up and over her knee, revealing the tops of her white stockings.
I forced myself to make eye contact. As soon as I did, she began playing with her necklace. The motion redirected my attention. This time, to her inviting cleavage.
“You sure are easily distracted today.” she said.
“Yes Miss Cohen.”
Once more, I forced myself to make eye contact. Another mistake. Instantly I was lost in those beautiful blue pools.
She broke contact just long enough to retrieve a folder from her desk.
“Aaron, I just finished grading your Advanced I final, and I have good news and bad news; though in my opinion, it’s all good news.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“The good news is, your grade was a ninety one. The bad news, you needed a ninety five to get an ‘A’ for the course.”
My heart sank. The tears began to flow. I came undone. “That’s it. There goes my perfect grade average.”
Sabrina stood, walked over to me and put her arm around my shoulder. “This could be the best thing that ever happened to you.” she said.
“How do you figure?!” I sobbed.
Sabrina returned to her chair and crossed her legs once more. This time, she left the hem of her skirt alone. “Aaron, in today’s job market, employers are looking for good accountants who can solve problems, and understand that perfection is an illusion. Not someone who’s so obsessed with maintaining their grade point average as to loose sight of what’s important.
“Do you understand?”
I wiped away the tears and sighed. “I suppose.”
“There’s no supposing.”
I slouched down in the chair. “Miss Cohen, is there anything I can do to bring my grade up?”
“You know better than to ask that.”
Sabrina began playing with her necklace again. My stare focused.
“Even if there was, it wouldn’t matter.” she said, “I turned grades in just before lunch.”
She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them again with the other on top. She wriggled her foot to free her black, high-heeled shoe, and let it dangle from her toes. Slowly, she rotated her ankle. Try as I might, I couldn’t help but watch the show.
Suddenly, her ankle stilled. I raised my eyes to meet hers. As before, I instantly fell under her spell.
“Aaron, I want you to come over to my apartment tonight.” she said softly, continuing to hold me captive, “There are a few things we need to talk about. A few things you need to understand.”
She picked up pen and paper and wrote. Handed me the sheet. “Here’s the address. Be there at seven sharp.”
I took the paper from her hand. “Okay. Seven sharp . . .”
I pulled up in front of the very modern vestibule that gave entry to the very primitive converted warehouse, and checked the address. “This is the place.” I said aloud, “Not what I expected.”
An ancient bell in the humble church across the street began to strike the hour of seven. I waited, as the final toll faded away. A part of me wanted to leave, and never look back. Another; to see it through. I stood there for the longest time, waiting. For what? To this day, I’m not sure.
“Let’s go.” I said at a whisper.
With a determined breath, I got out of the car and entered the vestibule. Before I could search which buzzer to press, Miss Cohen’s voice came over the intercom.
“Don’t keep me waiting, Aaron.”
A loud ‘click’ and the door leading in drifted open. “I mean it.”
I entered, and approached the tired-looking freight elevator. Pressed the button, and waited. The heavy doors rolled open. I stepped inside and pressed the button for the third floor. The doors rolled shut. With a rumble, the car moved upward, then lurched to a stop.
Another wait before they rolled open. I stepped out, and turned left, per instruction. At the end of the hall, a heavy, well-worn oak door with the faded stencil that read: “Storage 3A”.
Summoning my courage, I reached for the weighty brass knocker. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it. ‘What is wrong with me?!’ I wondered. ‘Why am I so afraid? Why am I here? What does she want to tell me? My shot at perfection is gone. She made that quite clear. Grades are in. It’s a done deal. So why am I here? What does she want?!’
There was only one way to find out. I reached out lifted the knocker and let it fall. Again. Again.
A moment, maybe two passed before she answered.
“Hello Aaron, I’m glad you decided to come.”
My eyes scanned her quickly. The modest dress she had worn earlier was gone; replaced by a very skimpy, very short, black one. Her stockings too were gone, though she still had on those devastating black heels.
“Won’t you come in?”
Miss Cohen, Sabrina, turned, walked over to the couch and sat down. I closed the door, and looked around the sparsely furnished room. Part of me wanted to sit next to her. Another told me to take the chair opposite.
I listened to the latter.
Sabrina smiled; crossed her right leg over her left; then stretched her left arm out across the back of the couch, while letting her right, sink into the pillow next to her.
A long moment passed. Unable to resist, I studied her. Every curve. Every swell. For the first time, I realized just how beautiful she truly was. Now don’t get me wrong; many times before I had enjoyed a fleeting glimpse of her nicely shaped butt, her inviting cleavage; and yes, those dynamite legs; but never had I found or made the time to take in the whole picture.
Sabrina brought her left arm down and rested it in her lap. “Aaron, I know how important it was for you to maintain that most holy of grails. But.”
Her words brought me back to the moment.
“When I was a junior,” she continued, “I was in the same spot as you are. Were. The grades had come easily and I decided perfection was mine, if I wanted it. I convinced myself that all I had to do was put out the effort, and magically I’d become part of that elite few. It would be that simple.”
Her tone turned wistful. “Before I knew it, I’d told my boyfriend to take a hike, and my girlfriends to quit inviting me to parties, because studying was more important. In short, I woke up one morning and found I had no life.”
She uncrossed her legs, folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward. “Fortunately, just before mid-terms of the spring semester, I was taken out by a mild case of pneumonia. Which is a bit of an oxymoron.
“Anyway, two hard earned Bs put and end to my quest; and, gave me my life back.”
“Do you ever regret it?” I asked, truly wanting; no, needing to know.
“Every now and again. Especially when I realize that the encouragement I try and give my students is leading them down the same path.”
“Like with me?”
She nodded, and absentmindedly bit her lower lip.
“It’s one thing to encourage someone to do their best.” she said softly; seductively, “It’s quite another to sit back and do nothing when that encouragement turns into fuel for an obsession.
“Aaron, I shouldn’t have let you go on as long as I did. This time last year, I saw where you were headed, and just let you keep going. What I should have done, is sat down with you and shared what I just shared.”
“It wouldn’t have done any good.” I said, “This time last year, I wasn’t anywhere near ready to concede defeat.”
“And now? How do you feel about the battle being over?” she asked.
Sabrina smiled the warmest, most inviting smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
She stood, then walked to the corner of the room nearest her bed. She bunched her skirt around her waist, then slid down the top. She turned to face me. As she did, my jaw hit the floor.
“Aaron, next semester you’ll be graduating, and I will be starting a new job as chief financial officer for Preston Medical Imaging.
“Under normal circumstances . . .”
She drew a deep breath and let it out.
“Under normal circumstances, I make a point of keeping my professional life separate from my personal life. It’s safer that way. No chance of a conflict of interest.
“But for you, I’m willing to make an exception.”
All I could do was stare at her perfect, goddess-like body.
“Aaron, would you like to make love to me?”
Her words fell so softly. So delicately. So . . . so, seductively.
Did she really need to ask?
“If you’d rather not.” Her voice trailed off as she spoke.
“Miss Cohen . . . Sabrina . . . I’ve wanted to make love to you since that day last April when we got caught in the rain going over to Franklin Hall.”
Sabrina smiled, and finished undressing.
“As I recall,” she said with an infectious little laugh, “I was wearing my pale pink sun dress. I was soaked to the skin, and it clung to every square inch of me, like a second skin.”
Nervously, I took off my clothes.
“I didn’t give it a thought at the time, but I doubt it left little to your imagination.” she added.
“I wouldn’t say that.” I said.
“Oh?” she said, her tone filled with genuine surprise, “Like what? Whether or not I stuffed my bra?”
She paused, furrowed her brow, then gave me an even sweeter smile. “No.” she continued, “The way my nipples showed through, you had the answer to that.
Another moment’s pause. “Hmm. I know! Whether or not I’m a true blonde?!”
My eyes darted to her sparse patch of womanly curls that were so neatly trimmed. “No.” I said.
“Then what?” she posed, “Let me guess. I know! Whether or not my breasts are as soft as they appear? If a single kiss makes my nipples grow as hard as they do from being cold and wet?”
I slipped off my briefs and straightened. “All of the above. And more.”
“More?” she asked, with an unexpected seriousness to her tone, “What else could there possibly be left to imagine?”
“A couple things.”
Sabrina moved to the bed and laid down. She propped herself up on one elbow and struck an odd pose.
“Such as?!” she repeated softly, yet firmly.
I wanted to give some smart ass answer, but couldn’t.
“I’m not going to ask you again, Aaron.”
“If you’re as passionate in bed as you are in the classroom.”
I took a tentative step toward her. “If you’re as patient in bed as you are in the classroom.”
Another step. “If older women do indeed make better lovers.”
“Have you ever had sex on the first date?” she asked with the same forcefulness, ” Don’t try to lie to me. I’ll know if you are.”
“No I haven’t.” I answered honestly, “In fact, I’ve only had sex twice before.”
As the words left my lips, I couldn’t believe what I had just revealed.
“The same girl?”
“Yes. Both times were during my freshman year.” I confessed, “The first was in one of the group study rooms at the library. The other was in her dorm room when her roommate was away for the weekend.”
“I see. Did you give her oral sex either time? Remember: no lies!”
“Would you be willing to give me oral sex?”
Without hesitation I answered: “Of course.”
Sabrina smiled and laid back. Almost casually, she spread her legs for me. Like the bedazzled schoolboy I was, I stared. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off her neatly trimmed mound, and the clean shaven area around her slightly swollen labia.
“What should I do first?” I asked, quickly realizing how ‘dumb’ I must have sounded.
In the most soothing voice imaginable, she replied: “Start with my inner thighs and work your way up.”
I crawled between her legs, and lightly kissed her well toned flesh.
“That’s it. Take your time.”
With each kiss, I moved closer to Sabrina’s now-glistening pussy lips. Her scent began to work its magic on me. Brazenly, I placed a warm, deep kiss on her outer lips.
“Mmmm. So nice.”
I slipped my tongue inside her and began to explore. Her flesh was so hot. So wet. So receptive to . . . everything.
“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” She moaned.
A kiss and lick to her right labia. Another pair to her left. “Never.”
As gently as I could, I moved her legs wider and wider apart; until they would go no further.
Her clit began to swell, and emerge from its hood. I ran my tongue over and around it.
“Oooo! Ahhhh! Mmmm!”
Encouraged by her building passion, I kept up my exploration. Using the tip of my tongue, I traced the tiny valley between her inner and outer lips.
More moans and coos.
I tightened my grip on her inner thighs and forced her legs even further apart. She tried to resist, but all she could do was press her pussy harder against my mouth. Her juices were flowing freely, and her heat growing more intense. She writhed against me. My cock grew harder and harder. All I could think of was getting it inside her. I struggled to remind myself that giving her pleasure was all that mattered. Somehow, I succeeded.
Molding my tongue to her clit, I slowly slid its hood forward and back. As gently as I could, I began to suck on her clit. Her juices flowed even more freely. Her taste was sweet; addicting.
“Oh god! Fuck! Oh fuck! Fuck! Aaron. Aaron! Oh god!”
Her screams echoed through the loft.
Then . . . silence. I released her from my grip and rocked back onto my knees. Her gorgeous breasts rose and fell with each labored breath. Her entire body glistened with sweat. Tears trailed down her cheeks.
Her eyelids fluttered, then opened. She fought to make, then maintain eye contact.
“Would you like me to return the favor?” she asked.
“I’d rather make love to you.” I said.
“I thought you were.” she laughed.
“You know what I mean.”
Sabrina smiled, and drew her knees toward her chest. I moved on top and entered her. She placed her hands on my shoulders and lightly caressed. Our lips met for a heartbeat. Then again, for a couple more.
“Give it to me.” she said softly.
Another kiss. Then another.
My heart began to pound. I drew back my hips, then slid back in.
She pulled herself to me. “Hard; and fast!” she whispered.
I drew back again, then drove into her a bit more forcefully.
“Hard! Fast!” she whispered, punctuating her point with a not-so-gentle nip to my ear lobe.
I drew back my hips (removing all but the tip of my cock), then let them fall, driving into her as hard and fast as I could.
“Better. Much better.”
A warm kiss brushed my cheek.
I ground my pubes against hers, then pulled out and quickly fed her my full length.
Her slick pussy gripped my cock tightly. With each thrust, I could feel her clit rubbing along my shaft. The feeling was incredible!
Sabrina wrapped her legs around me and locked her ankles. Her knees pressed into my sides and encouraged me on.
I reached back and unlocked her ankles, then pulled from her.
“Why did you stop?!” she demanded.
“Roll over and spread your legs.” I said.
“Ooooo. Kinky!” she purred, “Where did you learn this one? Remember! No lying!”
“A porno movie . . . I . . . once . . . saw.”
Sabrina laughed, then got into position. I moved behind her and easily slid my throbbing cock deep inside.
I pinned her with my full weight, then brushed her hair aside and burned a trail of kisses into her neck. I lifted my hips and drove into her hard and fast. Lifted them again. Drove in again.
Sabrina’s silence became disconcerting.
I drew back my hips, a bit too far and slipped from her. In that instant, she twisted beneath me and wrestled me onto my back. She flashed the most devilish smile, then squatted astride my hips, placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned forward: holding me tight to the bed. Slowly, she lowered herself onto my cock.
“Not my idea of fun.” she said, then asked: “Besides, did you forget who’s in charge here?”
“Apparently.” I answered.
A raised eyebrow – from her – helped to assert her power and control. I conceded defeat, and freely acquiesced: becoming subservient, as she raised herself up. More so, as she forcefully impaled herself .
“Mmmmmm. Yesssss!!!” she hissed.
I tried to reach out and cup her breasts. In an effortless blink, she repositioned her hands to pin my upper arms; thwarting my attempt.
Her tone was forceful, almost harsh. Her stern expression: punctuating.
With a subtle, snaking twist, she rose up. With wild abandon, she slammed her hips back down.
“Ooooo. Yeah!” she moaned.
She repeated. Somehow, I managed to break free of her gaze, and focused on her quivering breasts.
“Yessss!” she hissed.
Another repeat; only this time (after impacting my hips), she smiled that wicked smile, and ground her pussy hard against me.
She shifted her weight, then slowly raised up. With no pause, just as slowly, she lowered herself back down.
Again. This time, a little faster.
Again. Faster still.
Again. Faster still.
Her breasts swayed rhythmically as she maintained her pace.
“Yes. Oh yes!” she moaned.
The bed shook beneath us.
“Oh yes . . .”
A seductive lick of her lips as she closed her eyes and tossed back her hair. Her focus was intense. Though I’m not sure how, she picked up her pace even more.
For a brief moment, she opened her eyes, engaged mine, and smiled. But only for a moment.
Her pace increased even more. Once again, she closed her eyes. This time, she arched back as she did.
“Ugghh. Mmmm. Oh! Yeah! Yeah! Oh yeah!”
Her throaty cries resounded. I tried to hold back.
Her pace became frantic. “Yes. Yes! Oh fuck!”
Holding back was no longer an option. My cock began to explode inside her.
“Yes. Yessss!” she laughed.
Her pace slowed. With each downstroke, a little cum was forced out.
She captured my gaze once more.
Her pace slowed even more. As it did, in a sing-song voice, she repeated: “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes . . .”
My cock began to soften. She nestled her pussy hard against me and slid her legs out. Her knees pressed against me. Her ankles crossed over mine. I was trapped inside her. She lowered herself to me. Our bodies meshed.
“Yes.” she whispered softly.
Her lips brushed mine.
I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tight. Her breasts compressed between us. Her nipples dug in. Her pounding heart matched my own.
“Welcome to the imperfect club.” she whispered, “Grade point average; that is . . .”
Final Thoughts and Answers:
(By: Aaron Samuels)
Did I ever see Sabrina again? Yes. Over the next few months, she and I made love practically every day. And; yes, I mean ‘made love’. Not ‘had sex’ or ‘fucked’ or ‘screwed’.
Were we (truly) in love? No. In fact, I think that Chris – as in Mrs Christina Samuels – summed it up best when she compared Sabrina and me to a couple of ships that tried to pass in the night, but ended up dropping anchor in a secluded lagoon for a little shore leave instead.
So. Where does that leave us? Well . . .
“And here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson
Jesus loves you more than you will know (Wo, wo, wo)
God bless you please, Mrs. Robinson
Heaven holds a place for those who pray
(Hey, hey, hey…hey, hey, hey) . . .”