Date: Mon, 7 Apr 2014 20:28:46 -0400 From: Lewd Shrewd Subject: The Chemistry Professor - Chapter 10 Disclaimer: This is a work of gay, erotic fiction; please do not read if it is illegal for you to do so. This work is entirely fictional; any resemblances to real people, events, or institutions are coincidental. Please direct any comments, suggestions, pictorial responses(!), or questions to lewdandshrewd@gmail.com. Readers, keep in mind that Nifty is a not-for-profit organization that relies on our financial support to provide a forum for all these stories. Please consider donating: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html. Thanks, and enjoy! -Lewdandshrewd Chapter 10 Final exams of my freshman year in college had come upon me suddenly, and I didn't feel prepared for my linear algebra exam. I had arranged to meet with Professor Ed Rathburne to go over some questions about matrix orthogonality, and the meeting was approaching quickly. It was the Saturday of my meeting, and I couldn't keep the image of Professor Rathburne's huge cock -- which I'd seen in the locker room at the gym the day before -- out of my head. My roommate had been out of the room that morning, and I'd spent a solid 45 minutes jerking off to huge-cock porn, hoping that it would alleviate my desire to see the professor's penis again. Though the lengthy masturbation session did help to keep my erection at bay throughout the day, it did nothing to distract my mind from thoughts of that pendulous, massive dick. Finally, 4:15 pm rolled around, and I packed up my math textbook, my graphing calculator, and some paper and pencils in my backpack and headed toward the math building, where I was to meet Dr. Rathburne at 4:30. I had meant to feel more prepared for the meeting, and have a few specific questions in mind for my teacher, but I hadn't been able to concentrate well enough to formulate coherent, intelligent questions. I resigned myself to just go to his office and hope that he'd explain the Gram-Schmidt process in an intelligible way without me having to sound smart. I arrived at the professor's office promptly at 4:30 to find the door open and Dr. Rathburne scribbling jargon on the chalkboard inside, absorbed in his work. He was dressed in his characteristic baggy khakis and hideous shirt; chalk dust smudged his cheeks and coated his hands, making him look even geekier than usual. "Ahem," I coughed quietly, after standing in the doorway for several minutes without catching the professor's attention. He jumped, clearly surprised to hear me. "Oh, right! Rob, I totally forgot we were meeting this afternoon. I'm a little forgetful like that. What was it I was going to help you with?" "Ummm, sorry to distract you from your work, Dr. Rathburne, but I'm really having trouble with the Gram-Schmidt process," I reiterated. "That's wonderful!" Dr. Rathburne replied. "I mean, not that you're having trouble. That's unfortunate. But that it's the G-S process! I think I can help you with that; I came up with this new way of explaining it, and you'll be the perfect guinea pig!" For the next 30 minutes, I sat in a chair listening to Professor Rathburne ramble on and on about orthonormalization, jotting equations and matrices and formulae on the chalkboard. And I retained none of it. My teenage brain was writhing in hormones, and the man chattering in front of me had the biggest dick I'd ever seen in person; I found myself daydreaming about slapping my face with that big flaccid cock until it got hard, then rubbing it two-handed until it shot and covered me in cum. "Ugh! You fucking freshmen!" Dr. Rathburne's outburst startled me out of my reverie. "I have a brilliant idea and I'm trying to enlighten you, and all you can do is fantasize about my cock! I never should have gone into teaching children your age!" "Wha?! Huh? What are you talking about, Dr.?" I stammered, trying to play stupid. I had no idea how he'd read my mind, but I certainly didn't need my linear algebra professor to know I'd been imagining him giving me a facial. "You, Rob, were not listening. You were clearly trying to prevent your hand from rubbing your crotch, while intently staring at mine. I recognized that look in the locker room yesterday! I may look like a flighty, nerdy, oblivious chit but I can spot a lusty gay boy when I see one." I had no idea what to do or say. He was right: I hadn't been listening and I HAD been lustily eyeing the professor's well-hidden package. I began to panic... What if he flunked me? My GPA would be ruined, my soccer scholarship withdrawn, my academic record marred. "I... I... I'm sorry, I just... I just... you just... you, I mean, you just pulled it out... I didn't mean to look.. I'm sorry, really...." I pled. "I promise I'll pay attention, for real. I want to do well in this class, I just... I just got distracted." I was beet-red. "Rob, listen," Dr. Rathburne said, a note of warmth entering his voice, as he took off his nerdy glasses and sat behind his desk. I couldn't help but notice that without his glasses, the professor had sparkling gray eyes and a sharp jawline that complemented his lean features well. "I am not the socially awkward dork that I dress as. I was a 19-year-old once, too, and know what it's like to be overridden by your sex drive. Under other circumstances, I'd be flattered that a very handsome young man is daydreaming about me, but you are my student, and the teacher/student relationship is sacred. I wear these awful pants to prevent you -- my students -- from noticing what's between my legs. I never should have gone to the university gym and let you see me naked. I'm sorry; really, this is more my fault than yours." "Professor, no really, I'm sorry. I'm old enough to keep my mind where it's supposed to be, and you're right -- I was thinking about.... inappropriate things." I tried to smooth the situation over and regain a little composure. "I really will listen this time if you can explain it again." "I'm sorry, Rob, I have another meeting to go to; I can't repeat myself right now. For putting you in that awkward situation, I'll take the Gram-Schmidt process off the final exam. I'll see you at 9 on Monday; I'm sure you'll do well." And Dr. Rathburne resumed the air of the consummate nerd, replacing his thick-lensed glasses on his handsome face, smudging more chalk on his cheek in the process. ________ Monday morning rapidly arrived, and I was so nervous about my linear algebra exam that I almost forgot to put my calculator in my backpack, and had to run back to my dorm at 8:55 to retrieve it. I had spent the remainder of the weekend trying -- and failing -- to get the professor's gigantic dick and startlingly handsome, albeit hidden, features out of my mind. I woke up Monday morning to my roommate shaking me awake at 8:45; barely enough time to pull clothes on and run across campus to the math building. As I sat down at the exam desk, I was woefully aware of the fact that I hadn't had time to jerk off that morning, and my morning wood was tenting my quickly-donned sweatpants as Dr. Rathburne walked around the room passing out the final exams and giving instructions. As the professor filed down my row of desks, placing exams face-down in front of each student, I thought I saw his eyes dart down to my lap and a quick, subtle grin flit across his face. Within a split second, he had resumed his nerdy, professorial air, and announced to the class, "You have three hours to complete this exam. Your time begins now." Five minutes before the exam ended, while I was frantically finishing the last problem, Dr. Rathburne stirred in his chair at the front of the classroom. He removed his glasses and took off his hideously baggy, olive-green tweed overcoat, revealing a superbly tailored blue button-down shirt. My eyes became glued to the surprisingly handsome man as he stood and turned to write "5 minutes remaining" on the chalkboard; his khaki slacks clung to his legs and butt. As he turned back around to face the class, the impressive bulge that filled out his fitted pants came into full view, and I gave up on trying to scribble any last answers down on my exam. The professor's outfit wasn't even remotely inappropriate -- it's not like we could see the outline of his cock -- but it was startling to see our geeky professor looking so sleek, and many of the other students also seemed to notice the transformation. "Time is up!" My classmates heaved a collective sigh of relief, and we all began to gather our things to leave. "Hold on, folks," Dr. Rathburne announced, smiling. "I just wanted to thank you all for a great semester. Your exams will be graded by Wednesday afternoon, and you may come by my office to see your final grade any time after then." I had been slow to pack my bag to leave the room, since I didn't have another final exam until 3:00 that afternoon -- not to mention I was distracted by ogling my soon-to-be-former linear algebra professor. I was the last of the students to trail toward the door, and to my mixed dread and pleasure, I felt Professor Rathburne's hand gently grip my shoulder as I walked by him. "Rob, I just wanted to reiterate that I'm sorry about the situation I put you in. I won't be grading your exam any differently than the other students', but I do hope you'll come by to pick yours up on Wednesday night." I blushed, not wanting to remember the awkward conversation in his office a few days earlier. "Sure, Professor, I'll come by after my orgo final on Wednesday evening. I don't think I did very well, though... I thought the exam was really hard," I replied sheepishly, trying to avoid staring at the softball-sized bulge in the professor's pants. A grin slowly crossed Dr. Rathburne's face as he replied, "So it was, so it was. I DO like to make them hard..." I hurried out of the room, unsure if Dr. Rathburne's last comment had been meant to scare me or turn me on. It had done both. ________ "Dear Rob -- You did quite well on your final exam. The rest of your classmates have picked up theirs, but I will be in my office until about 7:30 this evening in case you decide to pick yours up. Congratulations on an exemplary semester; it's always a pleasure when students learn something in my courses, and being able to call my students 'former students' swells my pride. -Ed Rathburne" I read the email from Dr. Rathburne on my phone as I left my organic chemistry final on Wednesday at 6:00 pm. I felt extremely confident in orgo, but was still relieved to have the exam finished; I hoped the grade on my linear algebra exam would magnify that sense of relief. As I began the walk across campus from the science complex to the math building, I re-read Dr. Rathburne's email, and something about it made my heart pound a little faster. Fifteen minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Dr. Rathburne's closed office door with a well-concealed semi-erection, telling myself that I just wanted to grab my graded exam and go, that I could jerk off to big-cock porn as soon as I got back to my room, that it was inappropriate for a student to even LOOK at a faculty member's... member. I knocked, and the gorgeous version of Dr. Rathburne opened the door. "Hi Rob; I'm glad you made it before I left. I was just about to head to the gym, so you have good timing. Come on in and have a seat." He did indeed look ready to go to the gym; he must have been wearing contact lenses, because his glasses were nowhere in sight. His lean, chiseled torso was accentuated by a tight white undershirt, and I could see the full 9" of his massive soft cock outlined down the right leg of his mesh running shorts. "Ummm, uhh, Professor, thanks... but, ummmm, I really was just going to grab my test and run.... I can't really stay to chat... sorry, sir," I stammered, distracted. "Don't call me 'Professor' any more, Rob. As of now" -- and he handed me my graded exam -- "you're no longer my student. Call me Ed." He smiled a warm, sexy, toothy smile, and his eyes twinkled as I snatched the exam out of his hand and awkwardly tried to stuff it into my still-zipped backpack. "You'll want to unzip that, Rob," Ed said, laughing at my obvious awkwardness and discomfort. "Unzip what, sir?" I replied absently, disoriented by my hormones and the growing bulge in the professor's shorts. "Your backpack. Though I'd be perfectly happy to have you unzip your pants instead, if you'd rather. And call me Ed." My mind nearly exploded -- had I just imagined it? Had my (former?) professor just told me to take off my pants? I stood there, almost catatonically, mind racing. "It looks like you'd better unzip pretty quickly, Rob, or you're going to rip your very flattering jeans." My cock was indeed throbbing at its maximum hardness, constrained by the denim of my best summer jeans. "Maybe I should help," the professor winked, approaching me; his own huge dick was clearly stiffening, and the head of his cock was outlined at the very bottom of the right leg of his shorts. My hormones won. I nodded back at him, dropped my backpack and exam on the floor, and my right hand extended to meet his still-growing cock as he reached to begin unbuckling my belt and unzipping my jeans. Our mouths met, and my lingering reservations vanished. The man was a pro. His scruffy face gently scratched mine and our lips interlocked. His tongue slowly began exploring my mouth, delving a bit deeper each time our lips met. My hand rubbed along the length of his cock, exploring it through the mesh of his shorts; his hands began diving into my own pants as soon as they were unbuttoned and unzipped. "You've had sex with a guy before, right?" Ed asked. Broken out of my awkwardness by the rush of testosterone, I quickly replied, "Of course I have, and I fucking love it, but I don't know if I can take you," suddenly getting nervous that Ed would want to fuck me. I had confidence in my bottoming skills, but the largest dick I had ever taken (up to that point!) was just over 8" long, and fairly thick -- a pencil compared to the professor's member, which I guessed had to be about 11" long and as thick as the lean man's wrist. "Oh, don't worry about that, handsome. I'm more of a bottom anyway, but I doubt either of us are going to last long enough to get to fucking... this time," Ed said, pulling his shorts and tank-top off to reveal his rock-hard cock, the head covered in precum. I had waited what felt like an eternity -- though in reality it had been less than a week since I first saw the professor's huge cock in the university locker room -- to get my hands, tongue, and mouth on that gigantic dick, and I wasted no time now that it was pointed at me and leaking precum. I knelt in front of the lean, fit professor and grabbed his dick with both my hands, slicking the length of his shaft with his precum. Even with both hands enveloping Ed's cock, the head was free, and I eagerly began licking it clean. Engorged, Ed's dick was thickest about four inches from the tip, and it tapered to a (relatively) manageable thickness at the head. I swallowed what I could, feeling my jaw relax as his wet cock entered my mouth. "Fuck, Rob, that's good." Ed shuffled back a bit to lean against his desk. I was amazed at how solid the man's erection was; I was often disappointed with "big cock" porn because it always seemed that those huge dicks never got more than semi-hard; not so with Ed -- my hands were brushing against his defined abs as they worked the lower two-thirds of his dick. After a few minutes of giving the professor jaw-stretching head, my eyes were watering and my cock -- still constrained in my pants -- was aching for attention. Ed seemed to notice my flagging efforts, and pulled his cock out of my mouth, stood me up, pulled my shirt over my head, and licked his way down my neck to my nipples. While he was giving my chest the attention of his tongue, his hands were busy freeing my dick from my now-damp underwear. When my cock was finally out in the open, Ed moaned. "I've wanted to worship this gorgeous cock of yours since the moment you walked into my classroom, Rob; I hope you can forgive a teacher his lusts. But now that you're not my student, I have every intention of making good on a year's worth of fantasies." "You've wanted to worship MY cock, prof?! I've got nothing on yours, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since the gym." Ed smiled up at me, gripping my solid cock in his hand, and said simply, "Yes, I have," as he licked from the base of my balls all the way up the underside of my shaft. As he licked upward, his hand pushed my foreskin into a bunch, and as he reached the tip with his tongue, he delved in, savoring the precum that had gathered there and clearly enjoying the taste and smell of a nineteen-year-old athlete's end-of-day cock. He started to sink his mouth down my cock, allowing my foreskin to retract as he enveloped the top half of my own 8 inches. His hand played with my balls as he began to work my boner with his mouth. I was in ecstasy -- the sight of my extraordinarily handsome, geeky professor swallowing my dick, one hand working my balls while the other stroked his own massive cock, was fantasy made reality. "I love how you young guys can jizz at just about anything," Ed mumbled, taking a breather from expertly blowing me. He looked up at me and said, "Your cock is so hard, I bet you could cum whenever you wanted." "I'm so fucking turned on right now," I groaned in reply. "But I'm not done with your dick yet, prof." I swapped places with the professor, grabbing his cock and slapping it against my cheeks as I mustered the saliva to suck him again. I spat on his dick and slid my hand up and down his shaft as I worked the top third with my hungry mouth. Ed's moans made it clear that my blowjob was getting him close. I was so aroused that -- even without jerking myself off -- I could tell I would shoot my own load soon, too. The professor's hands found the back of my head, and he pushed me, millimeter by millimeter, down onto his dick until I had nearly two thirds in my mouth. Before I began to gag, I pulled back off, leaving his cock well-lubed with spit. I grabbed his cock with one hand, rapidly jerking him, as my other hand went to work on my own aching dick. Within a minute, I could feel Ed's body stiffening and his cock becoming even harder; his moans escalated, his head rolled back, and his first blast of cum arced onto my face. I kept up my rhythmic stroking of his cock, and aimed the next shot directly into my mouth. His cum was thin and copious and tasted slightly sweet, and I wanted every drop of it. I dove back onto the tip of his massive dick as he shot three or four weaker bursts straight into my mouth, which I eagerly swallowed. Ed recovered from his orgasm remarkably quickly, pulled me to my feet as I jerked myself nearer and nearer to the brink, and kissed me deeply, savoring the remnants of his own load that coated my lips. As our tongues played with his cum, the professor grabbed his cum-covered cock and rubbed it up beneath my balls, smearing his jizz and my saliva into my crotch. The sensory overload -- Ed's gorgeous mouth kissing mine, his enormous cock rubbing my taint and balls, and my own hand pumping my teenage cock -- was incredible. I felt like I was about to pass out as I shot rope after rope of thick, sticky cum onto the professor's lean, lightly-haired six-pack. As I slowly recovered, Ed rummaged in his desk and found an old rag (a cum-rag in his office?!) and cleaned off his stomach and still-huge softening dick. He returned to me and playfully licked the drying cum from my cheek and forehead, kissed me briefly, and said, "You're staying on campus this summer to do chemistry research, right, Rob?" "Yeah, and the soccer team is staying to train over the summer, so I'll be around." I realized that my first college summer was going to be pretty enjoyable.