Olivia: y el viejo profesor

I'd like to share with you a story that happened to me when I was 22 years old and studying the first year of journalism school.

I remember arriving at university that afternoon quite nervous. I had received a call from my professor of Document Communication, Don Anselmo.

Olivia, I don't know what's been going on lately, but you've really dropped your academic performance. Although it's just a partial exam, you're definitely going to struggle to pass the subject, he said with a serious tone.

I'm sorry, Don Anselmo, I apologized. I know I've been a bit off lately. Is there any possibility of extending the deadline for submitting my work by a week so I can redo it? I almost begged, without too much conviction.

See me in my office at 7 pm tonight, he ordered while stroking his white beard. Before we continue talking, I want you to see with me the terrible work you've submitted, he added in a reprimanding tone.

When I heard that, I couldn't help but smile on the inside. Despite Don Anselmo's severe tone of voice, I glimpsed a ray of hope. I needed to pass the subject no matter what. I knew the old man was famous for being a tough teacher, but I also knew his weak points.

Since the course had started, I had noticed how Don Anselmo would get hypnotized looking at me when I sat in the front row facing him. Then, deliberately I would lift my skirt up a bit more than usual, offering him a good view of my long legs.

I have to admit that I've always had a rather exhibitionist streak, and feeling the attraction and fascination of the esteemed professor amused me. Although it's logical, I didn't feel any physical attraction towards him.

Maybe if I manage to excite him at the meeting tonight... I was thinking that he would be more willing to give me another chance, I thought at the moment. Don Anselmo, was one of those serious and reserved men who felt slightly intimidated when their interlocutor was a woman. That shyness with women was the ace I was ready to play.

I got dressed as it was my habit, in a way that made me hard to ignore. I always liked being the center of attention and capturing lustful glances from men, especially at that moment when my boyfriend was studying for his master's degree in the United States. Therefore, at that moment, I didn't have to explain anything to anyone.

My way of dressing, despite being so young, always made me pass for an older girl. I liked high heels, stockings up to mid-thigh, mini skirts or tight dresses.

At seven on the dot, I was already knocking on the door of the professor's office.

Come in, Olivia, you were expected, Don Anselmo said from inside. Looking up over a mountain of papers that accumulated on his desk.

Buenas tardes, Don Anselmo. First of all, I want to thank you for receiving me this afternoon, I replied, advancing towards the professor's desk.

I arrived where he was, swaying with short and slow steps, making myself desirable, with those feline and elegant strides that only women can achieve when walking in high heels.

Get one of those chairs and sit down next to me, the professor said, while turning on his laptop screen.

I obeyed, took a chair, and sat down beside Don Anselmo. At that moment I could notice how the professor's eyes would directly and almost instinctively fall onto my thighs.

Just waiting for him to drool, I laughed inwardly, joking with myself. Because I was going to heat him up, and for now, I was succeeding.

He began to show me on his computer screen which parts of the work... that I had handed over, were not correct. --Olivia, this work is not worthy of you, and you know it. When the course began, I thought you would be one of those students who make teaching worth it --, the man said to himself.

--I know, Don Anselmo, and that's why I'm asking for another chance. I know I've messed up --, I said, looking at the screen where the professor was exposing parts of the work I had presented a few days earlier.

The professor didn't stop looking at me, taking advantage of my eyes being intentionally stuck to the computer screen, pretending not to understand anything.

--If I give you another chance, it would be an exception, which I don't make with your classmates. It wouldn't be ethical. Everyone should have the same opportunities --, he indicated seriously, almost unable to avoid looking at me.

--Don Anselmo, if you give me another chance, I'll do whatever is necessary --, I said practically desperate.

--What would that be? -- he asked for the first time, looking at me.

--Yes, whatever it takes --, I affirmed firmly and confidently.

--Ah... Ah... -- exclaimed the old professor, doubting. --That's what I like, because that means you really care about the subject.

At that moment, I remained silent, but I took advantage of the moment to open my legs a little, an act that didn't go unnoticed by Don Anselmo, who now had a view of the inside of my thighs.

Want some meat, old fart? Well, take it!, I thought to myself, looking at my professor's crotch for the first time. I swear he's hard, I thought, amused.

Suddenly, Don Anselmo couldn't help himself and placed one of his hands on one of my bare and exposed thighs.

At that moment, I didn't say anything, the truth is that I let myself be touched a bit scared. Never thought he would dare to go that far. This is going too far, I thought, almost paralyzed.

However, I didn't say a word or make a single gesture to stop him... understand that his hand on my leg was unpleasant to me. I needed to pass no matter how, if the price of passing was letting an old man fondle me a little, I was willing to do it.

'I'm glad we've approached positions in this first encounter,' he said as he continued to palpate my thigh at his own pleasure.

I remember that at those moments I felt the professor's hand rough and dry, and I have to say that the caress did not please me at all.

'What smooth skin you have!' he exclaimed suddenly, as if he had read my thoughts in that moment.

'Thank you,' I replied without knowing why.

'I'm an idiot? Am I being fondled and giving thanks?' I scolded myself.

'Olivia, I think it would be better to continue talking another day. Now I have many exams to correct,' he said pointing to the mountain of papers on his desk. 'It will be better if we resume for Thursday, but instead of seeing each other here, let's do it in my office at home,' Don Anselmo finally released my leg.

'Now mature!' he almost ordered me.

I was unable to speak; all this was overwhelming me. I obeyed his order and got up at the same time as Don Anselmo stood up.

'Come, I'll accompany you to the door,' he said grabbing my waist.

The scene of seeing Don Anselmo walking while holding onto my waist, as if we were a couple or newlyweds, was even comic in those moments.

There have been few couples as mismatched as ours, and not just because of the age difference, since I was at least a head taller than him.

'Take this, it's the address of my residence,' he said handing me an old visiting card.

I kept silent but picked up the card he had given me and put it in my purse. I was like in a dream, waiting for me to wake up.

'Remember, Thursday at seven o'clock,' he said giving me a strong slap on the butt.' Goodbye. I felt ashamed for letting a man, whom I didn't feel the slightest desire for, touch me as if I were his property. I was almost prostituting myself for a good grade. When I finally crossed the door and left his office, I felt very disoriented. It's my fault, I provoked all this. Am I an idiot?, I thought scolding myself. Of course I'm not going to his house! Who does he think I am? Does he think I'm a slut who can be bought for a miserable good grade?, I kept asking myself. I should go talk to the Dean right now and file a complaint about harassment, I arrived at thinking annoyed. But I dismissed the idea, thinking that I would have to give some explanations myself. Besides, I didn't have proof and would end up losing the course. On the other hand, Don Anselmo's reputation was untarnished. The next day I was still absolutely convinced that I wouldn't attend the date the old professor had proposed, but far from throwing away the card, without knowing very well why, I kept it in my purse. But on Thursday morning everything started to change. Doubts began to arise. I had to pass that course. I thought, even considering recording the professor and blackmailing him, but dismissed the idea almost immediately. That wasn't my style, and I knew I would never forgive myself for causing that harm. Besides, it was a game I had started myself. Later I began to think that maybe I should go. It's not a big deal if he lets me touch him a little and gets me a bit warm. If Don Anselmo gets too pushy, I can always leave. He's a creep, but he's not a psychopath, I kept repeating to myself. The day passed, with my nerves in knots. When the time finally came for me to head to Don Anselmo's house, I was too scared to think. The sensation and memory of my professor's rough hand tracing his own pleasure on my thigh repelled me. The memory of that slap on my ass in a Goodbye made me feel even more humiliated. 'Do you think I'm yours to possess?', I asked myself, indignant.

The truth is that I had always respected the old professor, knew he had a privileged mind, had written several books, and wasn't one of the most prestigious professors at the University of Journalism.

But all that respect and admiration I had felt for him had completely disappeared, transforming into disgust and hatred since I had discovered his worst side. The figure of a whole professor who had dedicated his entire life to teaching had fallen like a broken sack. Now he was an abhorrent man who took advantage of the power the university gave him to make me do something that made me feel no proud.

I thought about Alex, my boyfriend. I have to admit that I had been unfaithful to him more than once. But never would I have thought it would go this far.

—Hi Olivia, nice to see you —, greeted Don Anselmo when he opened the door of the house's entrance.

I followed him, almost shivering. The house seemed dark and was decorated without taste. I remember that the pictures were piled up next to each other, all full of photographs of unknown people who looked at me as if censoring me for being there. It seemed a sad home, lifeless, like something taken out of a time capsule.

—My wife goes every Thursday to visit her mother in the village —, he told me, as if I knew he was married.

Despite the anxiety I was suffering at that moment, I couldn't help but wonder how old Don Anselmo's mother-in-law would be. 'Either his wife is much younger than him, or the mother of his wife must be contemporary with Tutankhamun'.

—Do you want to drink something? —, he offered me, trying without succeeding to show himself as a good host.

I shook my head.

—Olivia, I see you're very quiet today. Do you prefer to leave? —, he asked, looking at me directly into my eyes.
—No—, I replied, trying to feign a smile.
—Well, then it will be better if we don't waste time. You must have better things to do than stay in the house of an old man like me, and as for me, I'm also a busy man. Although my life is probably not half as interesting as yours —, he said in a serious tone that reminded me when you gave your classes at the university.
But Don Anselmo was no longer willing to waste any more time. He turned around and grabbed me by the waist, just like he had done a few days earlier in his office at the university.
—You're a beautiful girl, Olivia. I know what I'm doing isn't right, and I'm ashamed of it. But I can't resist. You've been teasing me all semester with those mini skirts.
—I'm sorry—, I said almost with my voice interrupted by a brief sob. The man was repulsive to me.
—Don't apologize. The truth is that I hadn't been interested in sex for years, but since you arrived, I started masturbating every day thinking about you.
I couldn't help but feel a wave of nausea imagining poor Don Anselmo with his cock in his hand, masturbating.
—Girls like you are just turn-ons, it's fun to see old men like me lose their heads and drool over you —, he suddenly let go of me. You feel safe, thinking that we're already a kind of harmless eunuchs, but we're still men, Olivia. —
Finally, we arrived at a room that I supposed would be the old professor's office. I was so scared that I was almost unable to speak. In reality, I wasn't sure what the old man's requirements would be for me to pass the subject, nor how far I would be able to take it.
Don Anselmo sat down in his old armchair, while I remained standing, not knowing very well what my role would be.
—Did you like it when I looked at you when you came to my classes dressed like that and sat down? In the front row? — asked the professor. I nodded trying to be sincere. — I want you to tell me, Olivia — he ordered authoritatively. — Yes, I like it when men look at me — I recognized unable to lie. — Well, now I want to see you well. Turn around — he indicated showing more dominant. I obeyed and turned around. I started swaying slightly, more obligated by the circumstances than a true desire to show myself submissive and sexy. Thinking that as soon as it all ended, better for me. — What a great ass! — exclaimed the professor stretching out his hand and starting to touch me. Noticing his caresses on my buttocks made me feel repulsion. — Do you like it? — I asked pretending it mattered to me. — Do you have a boyfriend? — he asked omitting the response. — Yes — I affirmed turning my neck and looking at the old professor's eyes — I've been with him since I was 15 — I added, seeking mercy from his part. — Have you ever been unfaithful to him? — the man wanted to know. — Until a few months ago, I had never been unfaithful to him — I answered somewhat ashamed. The man laughed out loud, I would have never imagined that he would show himself in such a coarse and denigrating way towards“  me. —I was afraid of it. You're very good and too foxy —, both ingredients, if you combine them, are like fire and gasoline. Come here, sit down over there —, he indicated to me. I obeyed again, and went towards him. Then I sat down, on top of his legs, giving him my back, as if I were a girl. I started to feel his hand, just when he put it on the fabric of my blouse, feeling my small breasts. —Unbutton your shirt, I want to eat them —, he said, referring to my young breasts. I obeyed again and unbuttoned my blouse carefully. Then I noticed, as the old man's hands went under the fabric, caressing my back. I felt a shiver. Again I could feel the contact with the tip of his rough and dry fingers. Don Anselmo tried to unhook my bra, but before he failed, I had to take it off myself, leaving it on top of his plain and sober desk. —What yummy! —, exclaimed the man, embracing with his palms my bare and exposed breasts. I noticed how he started to pass the tip of his fingers over my nipples, these began to present themselves as hard and tumescent after feeling the stimulus of his caresses. He gave me a subtle pinch, between that difficult border of pleasure and pain, which made me burst out in a new shiver, making my mouth betray me and let out a soft moan. —Now take off your skirt —, he said, expressing an inflexible tone. I hesitated, but I had already gone too far to throw all that effort away. I was afraid that if I refused, after having let the old man handle me, it wouldn't have been worth anything. I stood up, giving him my back, unbuttoned my short skirt and let it fall to the floor. Leaving myself with only the blouse open, the thong and shoes on. Don Anselmo stayed absorbed looking at my ass. I knew that moment the thread of my thong would pierce me incessantly and almost pornographically, getting lost between the crack of my round” tough buttocks.
—What a butt you have! For the love of God! —, exclaimed the man, grabbing me tightly by the hips and pulling me towards him.
Then, like a pig, he began to kiss and lick my buttocks, showing an atrocious hunger. He then gave me another strong slap, catching me completely off guard. The fingers of his hand remained marked in red, like a signature of what had passed, for hours on one of my buttocks.
When I noticed the slap, I couldn't help but let out a new groan. I recognize that I love it when a man gives me a good whack. I like feeling myself given over.
Don Anselmo then inserted his finger between my desired buttocks, slowly pulling out, as if savoring, the thread of the thong that remained buried there. Then, separating both cheeks, he began to lick me all over my butt.
Feeling on my anus the disgusting tongue of Don Anselmo made my body start to shudder. My groans were not unnoticed by the pig professor.
—Do you like it? Eh? —asked the old man.
—I'm loving it —, I said, being sincere with difficulty, as if I was out of breath.
Then it was when Don Anselmo pulled down my thong to my knees.
—Turn around, show me your cunt —, he pronounced in such a foul way that I had trouble recognizing his tone.
Probably to the surprise of the old man, I obeyed again. Turning around, I now put my sex on display for the satyr professor.
—I imagined you would carry it shaved like a good slut —, he said, looking at my sex with his eyes almost out of their sockets.
After launching that insult, I could feel his short and clumsy fingers bursting into my vagina. I opened my legs in an automatic reflex to facilitate the maneuver.
—You're horny like a slut —, the man said impertinently.
Then he brought his mouth to my sex and began to lick my tender and rosy pussy. Without stopping to put two fingers inside my moist vagina.
I started groaning. I didn't know exactly where momento had begun to excite me, but my body was trembling almost unable to hold myself.

— I'm going to run away. Don't stop. —I almost begged.

Don Anselmo accelerated his caresses to the point where I had to grab his gray-haired head to not fall over.

— I'm running awayooooo —I screamed like a madwoman.

— Very well, Promiscuous, go ahead and run. Then you'll make me run too —the old man announced without stopping touching me.

The orgasm I felt was brutal, I never would have imagined that Don Anselmo would be able to excite me so much, and even less that he would make me come like that.

When I finally managed to recover a bit, I voluntarily knelt down. Then I opened his pants and put my hand inside, not knowing very well what I might find there.

I noticed a piece of meat somewhat hard and hot, pulled it out of the pants.

I looked strangely at that black and dark cock. It's a bit harder than I expected, I thought just before starting to masturbate it.

Don Anselmo closed his eyes and let himself fall back against the old office armchair. He never would have imagined feeling anything like this again.

I remained concentrated, the truth is that, despite having come, I was still very excited. Am I going crazy?, I asked myself.

I don't know what happened in my head at that moment, but the fact is that, following a sudden impulse, I introduced his black cock into my mouth whole.

Don Anselmo opened his eyes again as if he were hallucinating. He couldn't believe that a girl like me was giving him a blowjob without him having to ask for it. Never would have dared to go so far, he confirmed later.

The taste of his cock didn't disgust me and excited me even more. Then I started caressing his testicles with one hand, just as my boyfriend liked it when someone did that to him.

— You suck it well —Don Anselmo said gratefully.

— I need you to screw me —I asked suddenly, looking directly at him.

— There's nothing that —he didn't finish saying. he wants to do more in this room, he said nervously, Let's go to bed, we'll be more comfortable there, Don Anselmo indicated as he stood up.

We went up to the second floor, and the man was leading me by the hand. This time I recognized that I wasn't bothered, and neither did the image seem so funny to me, like the day he took me by the waist in his office.

We entered the bridal suite. The room seemed totally outdated. Printed curtains filled one entire wall, hiding what should have been a window. Meanwhile, a portrait of Don Anselmo himself and another I imagine was of his wife hung over the headboard of the bed, between two frames, there was a crucifix, and under this, a large wooden rosary.

Don Anselmo removed the bedspread and invited me to enter.

I got in, usurping a bed where I should never have gotten into. Don Anselmo took off his pants, folding them with great care, and leaving them on a nearby chair. Then he took off his white cotton undershorts that reached up to mid-thigh.

Then he lay down next to me, and we started embracing. Feeling his naked body next to mine made me shiver. I enjoyed noticing his bodily warmth. Then the old man sought my mouth, and we began kissing.

The old man's tongue entered my mouth, and I received it extremely excitedly. I opened up as much as the bed allowed my legs. Meanwhile, Don Anselmo remained on top of me, pointing with his glans directly at the entrance of my pulsating and eager pussy.

—Let him in, I begged almost imploringly.

The man's cock slid into me, and the old professor began moving. I loved the sensation; I felt a morbid excitement for being screwed by the old professor. He's screwing me without a condom, I suddenly remembered, but I let him continue and didn't say anything.

Don Anselmo wasn't stopping kissing me.

—I'm going to come, he announced as he pulled out of my interior.

Then I threw myself at him Again over his inflated cock, I introduced it to me for the second time into my mouth. With one hand, I started caressing myself, needing to come again for the second time, and knew that the old man fucking me wouldn't be able to get it. When I was about to come, I got down on all fours on the bed. 'Put it in me again. Let's come together,' I said without stopping my self-stimulation. He hesitated as if he didn't understand what I was saying. 'Put it in me from behind, like you're a slut. You can come inside, I'm taking the pill,' I indicated. He got behind and put it back in me while my fingers continued to work intensely on my red clitoris. 'I'm coming,' he shouted suddenly. 'Fill my pussy with cum,' I said, encouraging both of us even more excitement. 'Take it all, you slut,' the old professor yelled as he felt his orgasm. I noticed how my pussy was receiving its hot and abundant creampie. The sensation of feeling myself being carried away by his semen made me unable to hold on anymore. 'I'm coming,' I screamed without stopping touching myself. That second orgasm left me exhausted. I fell onto the bed, and he lay beside me, embracing me. I don't know how much time passed, only that Don Anselmo woke me up. He had already dressed, having recovered his dignity and serious professorial demeanor 'Olivia, you have to go, my wife might arrive at any moment.' 'Have I passed?' I asked, laughing. 'You got a high grade,' he said, giving me a last warm kiss.