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Saturday, September 11, 2010

A lover eats Kath's pussy THROUGH her panties!!

A lover eats Kath's pussy THROUGH her panties!!
By: KathHal (LawyersInc@aol.com)

Cunnilingus through Kath's panties

By college age, I presume that most of us had experienced the delicious thrill of oral sex, and learned how good it could feel to have a man's tongue and lips (or a woman's, for that matter) at play on one's pussy. So I shan't bore you with an account of what everyone has done as a matter of course.

But an ESMail chum mentioned in passing over the weekend that he enjoyed talking about panties. Just a mention, to be sure, and I have not taken the time to run down any of his postings. But his remark set me to thinking about a great bit of fun I had in the fall semester of my junior year in college.

I was flattered and overjoyed when Dr. ______ (the Prof hereafter) hired me as a grader/gofer. He made plain that I would be doing "scut work," but the chance to work around a scholar with a national reputation excited me. So, too, did the prospect of spending time with a man who, although 27 years my senior (I was barely 20) was nonetheless a very appealing male.

The Prof had a second office in his home about two miles from campus, high in the hills, with a to-die-for view that seemed to stretch for miles. Here is where I was to work.

The first few times I came out, I carefully wore Ms. Serious Coed clothes - essentially, a starched white blouse, a blue skirt, a lighter blue blazer, and heels and hose. I was somewhat taken aback to find that his out-of-class garbs was most informal: shorts, a polo shirt, either barefoot or running shoes without socks. In fact, the first time he answered the door, I wondered whether I had come to the wrong house! He looked so "out of uniform."

After a couple of days, the Prof said, "Kath, you dress very nicely, and I know that you are going out of your way to look professional. I also know that you must be going home and changing from your regular class clothes, because you were wearing something entirely different this morning. I just want to let you know that if you wish to ?dress down,' it would be fine with me."

That he felt comfortable talking to me so candidly impressed me. And in fact, going to my apartment to change clothes was a bother. So thereafter I came directly to the Prof's house from class, wearing my everyday stuff, which was, I assure you, far less formal.

The more relaxed I felt around the Prof, the more relaxed my garb. That autumn was especially hot (record highs, as I recall) and one day I said, "Oh, the heck with it!" and I brought along a pair of shorts and a Polo shirt, and I went into one of the back bedrooms and changed before starting my work.

The Prof made no comment, but the way he looked at me suggested he liked what he saw. My body was finishing the transition from girl/teen to woman, and if I say so myself (hey, no false modesty here, guys!) I looked darned good - 37C boobs, a waist 12 inches smaller, and a 34 inch bottom, which was tight. I had let my hair go to shoulder-length. And my face was "pretty" enough that I had several sound-outs about modeling for clothing ads for a local department store. (No, thanks, study came first; I was serious about obtaining a good education.)

So, let's move things along to what you REALLY want to read about, OK? I just wanted to set the stage.

I felt a strong physical attraction to the Prof from the very beginning, and just looking across the office at him sent all sorts of erotic thoughts tumbling through my head. I knew that he was reputed to be quite an "academic Lothario," with women faculty members and other females falling all over him. I could see why.

The man exuded sexuality, and without making any effort to do so. Several afternoons I had to sneak off to the john and dab my pussy dry with tissue lest I soak through my shorts. And, yes, I fucked him "by proxy" when I screwed various boy friends, and he was my jill-off fantasy when I masturbated.

Yet he made no overt move towards me - not even a brush-kiss of my cheek, or a pat on the shoulder. I could sense that his eyes often roamed over my body, and that he admired my breasts. I seldom wore a bra once I shifted to Polo shirts, and I knew good and darned wells that my nipples signaled their erection through the fabric. And, egotist that I am (I plead guilty) I was pleased that he liked what he saw well enough to keep looking at me.

The last Friday afternoon of November. The Prof answered the phone, listened, and said, "Let me go to the other room, I will be right back." From time to time he would take presumably personal calls in private, and I thought nothing of it.

He came back a few minutes later frowning. I could not help but notice his expression, and I blurted, "Is everything OK, Dr. ____? You look....." Oh, hell, girl, none of your business. Shut up. I did, and went back to my work.

"As a matter of fact, Kath, everything is NOT OK. I just had the weekend shot out from under me, and I am irked. Irked? No, I am MAD!" The Prof did not volunteer further information; he returned to what he was doing. But after a few minutes he said, "Kath, I know it's not five o'clock yet [my quitting time] but since I am the boss, I set the hours. What say we break off for the day? Would you have time to sit out back and have a glass of wine with me?"

I was surprised, for this was the first time that the Prof had spoken to me in other than a work context. The request pleased me, and so I said "yes, that would be fine." He told me to go on out onto the patio, that he would grab a bottle of wine and be right out.

Right away, fantasy took hold of me. Wow, but I would love to fuck the Prof out on the patio! Is the invitation to have a drink a prelude to seduction? I felt my pussy dampening.

There were chaise lounges around the pool outside, and I trailed my foot into the water, sex very much on my mind. I was glad that I had chosen a pair of rather loose shorts that day; they fell away from my upper thighs enough to show more flesh than usual. I tugged the hem of my Polo shirt out of the shorts.

The Prof, with two glasses and a chilled bottle of white wine. We clinked our glasses in a toast. Small talk as we sat on facing chaise lounges. How I liked school. What I did other than classes (tennis whiz through prep school, and how hard it had been to stop playing competitively so that I could concentrate on classes).

"And the guys are all over you, I bet?" He asked with a smile.

I smiled right back. "Oh, one or two," I said, "but nothing I would call serious..." True. I was fucking one guy regularly, but he was a tool of sexual convenience rather than a love. Masturbation, while fun, takes a girl only so far, and especially when you have become accustomed to being dicked on a regular basis, as I had since age 16. (I did NOT pass on this info to the Prof, to be sure.)

More small talk, a comment on my tan. Yes, I was a beach lover, and earlier in the semester, gal pals and I drove down to Southern California several weeks to San Onofre State Park. I let that one hang in the air. Surely he (and every other California adult) knew that San O had the best clothing-optional beach in the West.

"Oh, yeah, great beach," he said. "I used to go there frequently years ago....Now, of course, I have this patio, so I can catch all the sun out here that I need, without the drive."

He was unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. "OK with you if I catch a few rays right now?" He paused a beat then resumed, without waiting for me to answer.

Hmmmm. Nice bod, Prof! Muscular, with a few gray hairs mixed with the black on his chest. Flat tummy, which suggested that he kept himself fit.

And all I could contribute was the dumbest, most inane statement I think I've made in my entire life. "You men have it made," I said. "You can go topless anytime you wish. Whereas...."

"Whereas women can't?" the Prof said, laughing. "Kath, out here you can do anything you darned well please. If you'd like to go topless and get some sun, I will close my eyes while you take off your shirt." He put his hands over his face. "Go ahead, I won't watch..."

His suggestion was so audacious that I had to giggle. And with no further thought I tugged the Polo shirt over my head, clutched it to my bosom for a fleeting protective gesture, and then tossed it over onto a chair. "Done," I said, "and the sun feels good already!"

The Prof put down his hands and looked over at me. "I kept my part of the bargain," he said. "I closed my eyes while you took it off, but I made no promises about afterwards...."

So what? I put my hands behind my head and locked my fingers, feeling my breasts rise on my chest. And yes, he looked directly at my bare boobs. "Nature was very good to you, young lady," he said. "You have a smashing body. And I am glad that you are proud of it."

I drained my glass of wine and held it out for a refill. I had an idea where we were going, and I wanted something to tone me down a bit and let me relax. He had taken the first step by suggesting that I take off my top. Now it was my time to raise the ante, or just to sit there like a dolt.

I stood and trailed my toe in the pool. "Surprisingly warm for late November," I said. "So different from back East. By now, my parents would have had the cover on our pool for months...."

"I think we are good here for a few more weeks," the Prof said. "But who knows? Would you like to take a fast dip, just on the off-chance that this is the last opportunity?"

Hmmmm. Getting in the pool meant getting out of my clothes, and I was not going to be gauche enough to raise the issue of swim suits. But if I got into the pool with this man....

"Close your eyes again, Dr. ____, while I get out of these shorts," I said, standing up as I spoke. "Then join me in the water?"

Once again, his hands over his eyes. I stepped out of my shorts. I started to pull down my panties. No, Kath, not that far, if he wants to fuck you, he can take care of that. SPLASH! A flat dive into the luke-warm pool, and oh but it felt good!

The Prof arose. He stood facing me as I cavorted in the water. And I did not cover my eyes with my hand as he wiggled out of his shorts. No underwear, to be sure, only a very nice cock, long and fat, my eye estimating seven inches, swollen but by no means erect. He stood there for a few seconds, as if inviting me to look at his genitals. I did, to be sure, and I liked what I saw.

SPLASH! Into the pool he came, going under the water and making a playful grab for my lower legs. I put my hand atop his head and shoved him down. Play time. He surfaced spurting water and laughing.

"Ah, the joys of academic life!" he said. "It goes without saying, Kath, that this is between us. I don't think the dean of women would approve of a dirty old professor luring a sweet young thing into the pool naked."

"It didn't take a lot of luring," I replied. "And besides, I'm not naked. I still have on my panties!"

"Huh?" he said, and dove under the water, and his head was suddenly right next to my groin. He surfaced again, laughing. "My, my, what a modest little girl. Maybe I should get out and put on my shorts?" He was joking, and I gave him a mock frown and splashed water on his face. He splashed back.

And suddenly we were two kids at play in the water, grappling, trying to shove one another under. His hands and arms were all over my breasts and naked torso - incidental touching, to be sure, but exciting nonetheless.

In due course we were in the shallow end of the pool. The Prof grabbed me under the knees and guided me towards the bank and lifted me up and sat me on the side of the pool.

One glance told me what I already knew: my pussy was clearly visible through the sodden fabric. My pubic hair was so fair, so fine, that it did not begin to conceal the deep cleft between my labia.

No need now for words. The Prof lifted my legs over his shoulders, the better to expose my pussy. His face was only inches from my groin as he did a thorough visual examination of me. My excitement was such that I was literally gasping.

Thumbs high on my inner thighs, as if determined to part me even further. A mouth moving to the V of my groin. A tongue flickering out and roaming up and down the length of my cunnie. A groan from me, my fingers moving down so that I could push the fabric aside.

No, no. His hands shoving my fingers away. His open mouth now on my cunt, fabric and Kath-flesh alike gripped between his lips, tongue pushing around in the vicinity of my swollen clittie.

Now, to be sure, over the years, I had felt more than a few mouths pleasuring my pussy, both men and an occasional gal pal who liked bi play. But what the Prof was doing to me was entirely different: he was eating my pussy THROUGH my panties, and I could only deduct that there was enough of my "taste" on the fabric, however wet they were from the pool, to excite him.

I put my hands on his head and pulled him tighter into my groin. I closed my legs around his head. Teeth gently nipped at my labia. I started having climaxes - what I termed "popcorn cums" that go on interminably as I work up to a major orgasm.

Candidly, I was a whimpering, simpering mess of a woman, so deliriously happy at what was happening to my pussy that I wanted the joy to continue forever. And having all this take place while I was still clad in panties added a touch of ....naughtiness?...that made the cunnilingus all the more enjoyable.

I had thought briefly of ignoring the Prof's wish and going ahead and shoving my panties aside so that I could feel his mouth against my naked pussy. No, no, this was much better, and I simply surrendered. And in due course, I had an orgasm that most likely showed up on the Richter measurement things over across the Bay.

He got out of the pool. He helped me stand up - oh, god, what a case of post-orgasmic limber-legs, I could barely stand! He knelt, and only now did he slowly slid my panties off my hips and down my legs. He tossed them away. He put his face up against my pussy and kissed and licked my slit, his hands locked on my bottom to keep me upright.

Up, our mouths locking in our first kiss, the tart taste of my pussy on his lips. "Kath, my dear, I am going to take you inside and fuck you. Does that appeal to you?"

I reached down and found a rock hard cock. I stroked it. "Yes," I said. "Take me inside and fuck me. I would like that very much!"

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