"Thank you for helping me this morning.

"Thank you for helping me this morning. It has been such a morning." Her breathy sigh floated above the grey interior of the Toyota Corolla. Her words mingled with the raspy melody of Bon Jovi, who quietly wailed "You give love a bad name" over the car stereo. "It's really no problem; you're on my way to the campus. And I can't have you..." His voice disappeared in that cloud of sigh and the chug-chug of 80's guitar. Besides him, pertly snuggled into the passenger seat, which seemed to gobble up her slight frame, Sophie had slid up the hem of her skirt up, showing the lacy top of her white thigh-highs, which her delicate fingers slowly, slightly adjusted. Nails the color of bubblegam traced the lace, trailing the line where her smooth skin kissed fabric. Stopping in line with her knee, her fingers, slid upward, pulling the skirt as they teased across her thigh, revealing that silken valley where thigh met hip. He licked his dry lips. "Can't have...me?" Eyes pooled of hazelnut brown flashed, bringing his attention up to a slight grin that slinked over red lips. He glanced back at the road, tightened his grip on the wheel. "Can't have you missing the lecture this morning. You're introducing the post-modern literary period for British Literature." "Oh, yes. That. You'll find me very ready for that; I'm prepared for anything. Oh, forgot a button. Well, shoot. Maybe anything but dressing myself." Her pink fingernails slowly tugged at her white blouse, lifting it away from her skin, inviting the professor's gaze to admire her full breasts swelling out of the lace of a black bra, the dark color, after taking a second look, struck through the sheer cotton blouse, accentuating her form, and choice of bra. "There, all better. What do you think, do I look pretty Post-Modern to you? I sent you that picture this morning, just to make sure." "Sophie, you know, we can't...?" "Well, I wanted to make sure. Nylon was invented during that period, wasn't it? Are you saying that you didn't approve?" He shifted in his seat. "Oh, by the looks of it, you did approve," she purred, touching his thigh with a light fingertip, tracing towards his swelling crotch. "Sophie!" He gasped, "You know the rules. Professors and the TAs must never...fraternize." "Is that what I was doing," she smiled at him, watching his cheeks turn red above his bearded chin, "fraternizing?" "We've talked about it; I could lose my job." "We've talked, yes. But, aren't you the least bit...curious?" Her fingernail lightly traced down to his knee, swirling around it. Then, ever so lightly, traced the pleat in his pants, up and down. "You know I am, I would never have considered what we did in the library before you. But we talked about this. What has gotten into you this morning?" "Curious...curious," she continued, "all those times I bent over your desk, pretending not to notice your eyes roving over me. Curious...as to what it would be like to take me on, or even over that desk. Maybe...a little curious as to what I was doing before I put on these thigh highs. Curious as to what I was thinking about? It doesn't hurt to be curious. Aren't you curious about...what I'm wearing under this skirt, what I could do with this....what I would taste like...?" Each mention of curious, she finger slid closer to his crotch. And then drifted back down his leg. And then traveled up his inner thigh. With each mention of that word, which she seemed to suck on before saying it through those pouting, ruby lips, she would watch his tightening expression, the color in his cheeks, his breathing deepen. His eyes darted to her. One hand tucked under her chin, she watched him with that half-smile, while her finger moved over the rise in his pants. He shifted, and she bit her lower lip when he moaned softly. "I'll tell you...I was thinking about you, professor, all morning. I thought about you while I touched myself. I've almost graduated. I think we can keep it a secret until then. We'll just be...careful, discreet. Like Joyce's character in 'Araby,' I had an epiphany. I decided this morning something very important." Her feather touch flitted up and down the zipper of his pants. Her smile relished the strain, the bulge. She crossed her legs. Had he been listening, instead of focusing on the traffic, he would have heard her soft, little moan, just below Bon Jovi's lyrics, you give love a bad name (bad name). She continued, "I decided that you don't get what you don't go for. To take matters into my own hands. How very post-modern of me." Bubble-gum pink nails pulled down the zipper, and out sprang his hard cock. Wide, brown eyes, a gasp, a sudden jerk of the wheel, the car lurched. "No underwear today? My, you and I really do think alike." "What, what are you doing? Someone...someone will see!" He stammered. She continued. The bold, ruby of her lips a stark contrast to the pink tip of his cock, which she gingerly kissed. Her head nestled in his lap, her long, black hair fell over his thighs. He gasped as her tongue swirled around the tip, and that tongue widened to include the entire head. Lightly, those lips kissed where her tongue had been. "Oh...God," he whispered through clenched teeth. She tried to trace her tongue down his shaft, but the steering wheel prevented it. "Oh," she pouted, "quel dommage." Instead, she twirled her tongue around the head until bringing it fully into her mouth, sucking and smacking. Before she began to slowly bob her head up and down. His hand lifted off the wheel, and found the back of her head. Lacing his fingers through her soft, black hair, he gently moved his hand up and down. From between his legs, he could hear the smack of her lips, the twirl of her tongue, as she brought his hard cock deeper and deeper into her mouth. "It's everything I was hoping for," she smacked, a little giggle, and then plunged down further onto his cock. His gentle hand, though, had stiffened, the hand in her hair clenched. And at the moment, she jumped, her mouth tightening. The sensation, that reaction, caused him to increase his grip, to increase the rhythm, driving her mouth, her throat, to envelop his cock. Then, up. Then thrusting back down. He groaned deeply as her tongue and mouth relaxed, taking him in, her nose touching his waist. Roughly, with lustful purpose, he drove her head up and down his shaft. She gurgled; she tried gasping between thrusts. But, he was relentless. Surprise widened her tearing eyes. Her hands clenched on his thighs, tightening as she struggled to breath. Ropes of spit and pre-cum trailed from her lips to his cock when he brought her head up. A quick gasp, and her face was thrust back down again, her mouth, her throat enveloping him. The car lurched to a stop. He let her hair go. "God, I created a monster," she gasped. Spluttering, she popped her head up peering out of the driver's side window, "where are we? The park?" Without zipping up, he opened the door and strode around the front of the car. With determined step, he walked around the front of the Corolla. Smiling, a little dazed, she watched his thick cock glisten and wag back and forth with every footfall. He flung open the passenger door. Looking over her shoulder, her body draped over the center console, she regarded him with a coolly, the shine of drool on her chin, looking over her shoulder. During her struggle, her skirt had inched higher, revealing the bottom of her curvaceous ass, just peeking out. Hungry eyes devoured her. "Why, Professor...what are you planning--" her voice was cut short. Large hands fell upon her waist, grabbing the hem over her skirt, yanking her ass into the air. She yelped. Her brown eyes widened, her arms flailed to prop her up. Her elbows sank into the driver's seat. The skirt was yanked upward, revealing her bare ass. He grabbed; he squeezed, he pulled her cheeks apart. "God, yesssss..." She cooed at his rough, wriggling her hips to his heavy hands. "God, yes." She yelped again, after his hand landed across her cheek, leaving a bright-red hand print. She stiffened. But, he forced her legs apart. His hands were back on her cheeks, spreading them for his tongue, which dipped into her sopping pussy. Moaning, writhing, she arched her back, her ass high in the air for his exploring tongue which, flitted across the lips of her pussy, then sucked them into his mouth. Her fingers gripped the edge of the driver's-side seat when his probing tongue found and danced over her clit. When she dared to move, or push against him, his hands pulled her against his tongue. His hands, his want, drove him, and she cooed and moaned beneath the hands that commanded her movements. "Fuck me," she begged between gasps, his tongue outlining and flicking her clit, "I can't stand it...fuck me. Please, I want you; I want you inside me." His hand slapped against her ass. "I am going to fuck you, Sophie. But, I'm going to fuck you how you deserve. Rough. " His tongue trailed up her slit, then over and around her ass. She shivered at the sensation "Yes," she gasped, "fuck me. I need you. Do whatever you want, just fuck me...please." "Anything?" There was something lustful, primal, in his voice. It caused her to tremble. A fingertip trailed where his tongue had been, pressing against her ass. She tensed. But the wet finger persisted until she relaxed and succumbed. She whimpered when his finger slid inside. "Yes, anything...all of me, just fuck me. Fuck me hard. I deserve it; I deserve it all." His mouth, his teeth, pressed against the top of her thighs. "You seem to really enjoy this," he said, watching his finger slide in and out of her ass, "really enjoy it." His kisses trailed around her thighs, then back over to her pussy, her clit. His broad tongue lapped at her, while his long middle finger sunk deep into her pucker. Sophie's fingers had coiled into fists, her own teeth had bitten down on the cloth seat. Her whimpers drew into long, deep moans. "What does my little TA like?" "I like," she whimpered, "I like my professor..." "No," he said, "What do you really like. Tell me." "I like my professor finger-fucking my ass. I like his tongue on my clit while he...mmmph...finger fucks my tight ass." "You are such a good girl, such a good student. Now, what do you want?" "I want you to fuck me, please. I can't stand it; I'm aching for you." He pulled his finger from her, grabbed her by the hips and pulled her so that he could stand. Moaning, she shivered with anticipation, her face over the console as he rubbed his hard cock over the lips of her pussy. Then, with a slow purpose, he split her, filled her, plunged his cock into her wetness. She cried out, a shrill moan escaping from her lips. The next thrusts weren't nearly as gentle but came with a rhymic pounding. His cock driving into her, his hips and balls slapping against her. His hands yanked her hips against him, all the while her toes curled and her legs flailed. With each thrust, a trembling little moan, and these moans only got louder when his hand fell upon her head and clenched through her hair, causing her to arch her back, her neck, bending her as he slammed his cock deep inside. Gone was any care of anyone hearing her--she screamed with pleasure, bucking against his cock. "I'm going to, I'm going to," she panted, her panting eeeking out in a long shuddering scream as he gripped her hips, driving his cock into her. Her body tensed, her feet curled. His body tensed in unison, cumming inside her, filling her, before leaning over to kiss her neck. For an eternity wrapped in a minute, they breathed in unison, each one trembling, each one savoring each other's touch. "You're going to be late for class," he whispered in her ear, "you should stay after, and help take care of all those papers on my desk.""