Chrissie and the Professor
Possibly the after hours engagement with an English Literature professor at college may have been the thing that convinced me that older
men might be more to my liking.
It was during my Junior year at the university when we were discussing the poetry of Arthur Rimbaud, the French poet, that I became infatuated with my professor. He was a typical scholarly gentleman one would expect to encounter at a major university. He was in his mid fifties, and still in remarkable condition for his age. He was about just under 6 feet tall, blue eyes with salt and pepper hair. In class he was charming, witty, obviously well-read and intelligent. When he lectured in class I would hang on his every word.
He introduced me to the writings of Rimbaud and I read every thing
I could get my hands. One day after class I caught up with him as he strolled across the campus to his office. In an attempt to create a dialog with him I proceeded to regale him with the long list of Rimbaud writings that I’d read.
He seemed to be quite impressed with my extensive reading list and as we walked he quizzed me a little with respect to my knowledge of Rimbaud.
Once we reached his office he told me he had some more obscure Rimbaud writings, some of them which had never been published except in French. He said he’d be glad to let me see them, help me with the translations, and perhaps we could discuss them after I’d read them. I told him I’d be thrilled at the chance to have a look at them.
I asked him if I should see his secretary to arrange a meeting in his office.
He replied “ Actually they are in my condo and not in my office. But I rarely transport them in lieu of their old and somewhat delicate condition.”
“I can understand that Sir.” I replied.
‘Christine? Is it?” he said. “You are welcome to stop by my place and have a look at them.” he said.
“Please professor, it’s just Chrissie and I’d be thrilled to stop by and see them.” I said.
“I’m playing racket ball tonight with Dr. Cooper but I should be home around nine. If you’d like to come by tonight.” he said.
“I’d love too.” I responded.
“Right, than nine it is. And Chrissie outside of class you can call me Richard.” he said with a smile.
I agonized for several hours over what to wear to Richard’s condo. Was this to be strictly a professional engagement? Perhaps it could be a classic college girl-professor tete-a-tete I dared to imagine. His demeanor early that day made me think that perhaps he might have something more in mind than
just the poetry of Arthur Ribaud.
I thought to myself “Chrissie, does he know you’re a T Gurl? I mean my sexual orientation is not exactly a complete secret on this campus.”
I mean after 3 years quite a few people know, and people talk, and who knows how many people Kelly has told.
I decided it didn’t matter whatever happens I’d just play it by ear. Besides
Chrissie, aren’t you jumping the gun a bit?
I decided to wear thigh high black stockings, a white push-up bra, white hipster style panties with black polka dots, 2 inch heels, a short gray skirt and a black v neck pullover sweater. It was early autumn so the temperatures were beginning to drop at night and so I wore a white trench coat.
The professor’s condo was located just off campus and from my apartment it was about six blocks away. I walked to his condo and rang the bell. There was no answer and I began to think maybe I was being stood up? Maybe he thought better of our meeting? But just then a car pulled up and Richard jumped out of the passenger side.
“Ah hello Chrissie, the racket ball game ran a little long. Hope you weren’t
Waiting long?” he asked.
“No, actually I just arrived. I hope you won your game?” I asked.
“I always win. Cooper is a much better authority on English history than he is a racket ball player.” he laughed.
He unlocked the door and we entered the condo. It was decorated much the way you’d expect a stodgy English professor’s home to look. Dark wood and leather with books everywhere.
“I simply must take a shower.” he said “You’ll never want to sit and talk with me otherwise.”
I laughed and replied “By all means. Take your shower.”
“Chrissie, let me get you something to drink.” he said “Since it’s Friday night, no class tomorrow and we’re here to discuss Rimbaud, I suggest we
open the absinthe.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had absinthe. I thought it was poison or something?” I said.
He laughed “The real stuff from Europe can be a problem. But the stuff you can purchase in the States is much tamer.”
He walked over to an armoire that was doubling as a liquor cabinet and said,
“It’s my home, I’m the professor and I insist that we drink absinthe.”
He set out two small glasses, filled each with roughly two ounces of absinthe and set the bottle on the coffee table. He proceeded to place a spoon-like object over each glass upon which he placed a small sugar cube. Then dripping roughly 6 ounces of cold water over the sugar cube until it melted into the glass and stirred it with the spoon.
Richard explained that absinthe was the preferred drink of the 19th century
Bohemians and that it’s aromatic, bitter substance believed to induce an inexplicable clarity of thought, increased sense of perception, enhanced creativity, inspiration and the ability to "see beyond" -- as all the famous absinthe drinkers amongst nineteenth century poets, writers, painters and other artists discovered. He went on to explain how the mythical “Green Fairy” of the wormwood became the “muse” of the creative ones. Richard
neglected to tell me about the aphrodisiac properties of the wormwood herb
From which the absinthe was created.
We each drank two glasses of the absinthe and Richard excused himself to take his shower.
He handed me a book of Arthur Rimbaud’s poetry saying, “Enlighten yourself with this until I return Chrissie.”
While he was gone I prepared myself a third glass of the absinthe. By now I was becoming quite light headed. I prepared a third glass for Richard and carried it into the bedroom setting it upon the nightstand.
I pulled my sweater up over my head and tossed it aside. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I kicked my heels off and clad in my bra, panties and stockings I pulled back the spread on Richard’s bed and climbed in under the sheet. Luckily I still had my glasses on or I’d never been able to decipher the words in Rimbaud’s book of poetry.
Richard entered the bedroom from shower with only a towel around his waste. He was surprised to see me in his bed but at the same time seemed rather pleased. I pointed to the glass of absinthe on the nightstand and he quickly drank it.
Richard looked down at me lying in his bed covered by the sheet. He smiled and quoting Rimbaud said
“O Venus, O Goddess!
I long for the days of antique youth,
Of lascivious satyrs, and a****l fauns,
God’s who bit mad with love”
I placed the book on the nightstand as he let the towel fall away from his waist and climbed into the bed beside me. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered “ I want to have you in the mad, hedonistic way of Rimbaud’s poems.”
I kissed him deeply and then allowed my lips to travel downward, kissing every inch of his torso as they went. My hand reached to grasp his stiff cock and as I stroked it I whispered “And everything grows, and everything rises!”
He smiled and said “ I guess you do know your Rimbaud Chrissie.”
After stroking his cock for several minutes I wrapped my lips around the tip.
I began to slowly suck his cock deeper into my mouth. My mouth moved up and down the shaft kissing, sucking and licking his stiff prick. I took his cock as deep down my throat as I could, nearly gagging. My head bobbed up and down on his cock and he began to moan in low sounds of satisfaction.
“Oh Chrissie, I haven’t had anyone suck my cock like that in a long time.” he said.
“Richard, you’ve never had anyone suck your cock like me.” I replied.
“Oh my God Chrissie yesssssssssss…………oh honey! Suck it! Oh Fuck
Yeesssssssssss!!!” he moaned.
I raised up on my knees and reached to unhook my bra. Richard sat up and carefully lay me down on my back. He began to kiss, lick suck and bite my nipples. He buried his head between my breasts and bathed them with his tongue. He continued to lavish his attention upon my breasts until I thought I couldn’t stand another minute. While still sucking on my nipples he slipped a hand inside my panties. His fingers wrapped themselves around my “clitty”. I held my breath until I heard him whisper “Perfect, just perfect Chrissie.”
I lifted my hips up off the bed and he slowly tugged my panties down, over my thighs, to my knees, down my calves and off. I rolled over unto my stomach and arched my ass up a bit. He bent down and began to rim the entrance to my “pussy” with his tongue. I moaned as his tongue circled the outside of the entrance to my sex and let out a little scream as he let his tongue slip into the tight little hole of my “pussy”.
Finally he spit into my sex several times. Then crawling between my legs he let his stiff cock tease the entrance to my tight ass-pussy.
“Oh yes Richard, Fuck Me!” I whispered. “Fuck Me.”
He slipped his long stiff cock into my ass, slowly at first, but then forcing it deeper with each thrust.
“Oh Chrissie, you don’t know how good it feels fucking you.” he said as he pounded my ass with ever faster strokes. “Chrissie darling, I want to fuck you forever.”
My inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock as I concentrated on the vibrations inside my “pussy”. Richard began thrusting more vigorously inside me. Hammering away at my “pussy”, slamming into me with deep hard thrusts.
“OH MY GOD!!!! FUCK MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!” I shouted
“Chrissie I’ve got so much cum for you I might just drown you.” he whispered.
“Richard, do you want to come in my ass?” I asked.
It was then that he abruptly stopped and pulled his cock from my ass.
He straddled me and roughly jammed his cock into my mouth. I began to suck it as he continued to f***e deeper down my throat. I could taste my
ass on his prick as he roughly fucked my mouth. He was fucking my face so
deep and f***efully that his ball sack was bouncing against my chin. I knew he was about to come as I felt his body begin to tighten up. I was prepared for a mouthful of warm sweet cum when all of sudden he pulled his cock from my mouth and said “Chrissie, I’m going to come!”
He stroked his cock several times and I felt his cum begin to spurt across my face. He was k**ding about how much cum he had because it was on my lips, my chin, both cheeks, up my nose and I suspected it was also dripping from my hair. I lay back upon the bed and gazed up at Richard through cum coated glasses.
That night was the highlight of the semester and from that time on many of
my literature classes were held in Richard’s condo.