I had just an hour, pleasuring a very young college coed I had met at the student union where my son goes to school. It was a serendipitous thing, but one that was unbelievably wild and true. She thought I was a professor, even though I assured her that I was not. Fifty-something-year-old guys have to be careful when hanging around the university student union. (I am not a pervert, and I really was waiting on my son to get out of classes.)
We had no sooner finished things up in her two-bedroom flat just a few blocks off the campus, than her roommate showed up. I was all set to make my exit, when a tapping on the apartment front door hastened things up a bit.
Angela stood about five foot four and probably weighed a little over one hundred pounds, if that much. She had a thin frame and really nice “knockers”, which were barely held back by her sports bra. Her skin-tight yoga pants left little to the imagination. She had an engaging smile and a very enticing personality.
As Angela’s roommate giddily declared she had discovered “a really cool professor”, Angela sized me up from head to toe. She was probably as surprised to meet me as I was to meet her.
“Really,” Angela remarked as she looked at me, sideways, checking me out. “What do you teach?”
“Human sexuality,” I matter-of-factly replied. Of course, I was lying through my teeth, but it was what had gotten me in the door in the first place.
“And, is this a lab course?” Angela pressed.
“Yes,” I dutifully replied, proffering a pronounced wink. To my surprise, she quickly replied.
“Well, I’m all in.”
I told her that I offered one-on-one sessions, if she was interested.
Angela tossed her backpack on to the couch and suggestively replied, “I like one-on-one sessions.”
It was that easy. I had to be the luckiest fifty-something guy on the planet. I had to take in a deep breath. I had just finished off a quick ‘one-on-one' session with the first girl. Getting ready and satisfying a dubious college coed right after doing her roommate was going to be a challenge.
“I’ve got some free time before my next class,” Angela quickly proffered, biting down on her lower lip, her eyes darting towards my crotch and then quickly over to her roommate, who stood there in silence.
I quickly glanced at my phone. I only had forty-five more minutes until my son would be out of class.
“That’s plenty of time,” said Angela as she headed towards her bedroom, head nodding for me to follow her. I looked at my first conquest, who simply looked back at me in silence, proffering a pronounced wink in my direction.
“Have fun,” she said as I sauntered into the bedroom behind her roommate.
I slipped into the bedroom and found Angela sitting on her bed, her legs uncharacteristically spread, as she lay back on her elbows.
“Tell me about this human sexuality course,” she said, as I closed the bedroom door behind me.
“Well,” I replied, as I approached where she lay on the bed. “It involves the study of environmental issues that affect the human psyche and our sexualities. . .”
I was shooting from the hip. I had no idea what I was really saying.
I stepped between my newfound friend’s legs, as they hung off the side of the bed. Her nipples were strong and taut, poking at the fabric of her sports bra. The outline of her vagina was clearly obvious, since her skin-tight yoga pants left nothing to the imagination.
“Men and women have needs . . .” I said, looking down at her as she looked up at me.
“Yes, we do,” she replied, interrupting me.
‘Sometimes,” I said, “We have to try and be more cognizant of those special needs, and that’s the entire essence of human sexuality.”
“So, do you have a need?” she asked.
“Well,” I replied, “I think my most pressing need was probably taken care of over the last hour by your roommate.”
“Yes, she is good at that,” she replied. “But I have needs as well.”