YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/asiaa_1.sty

Text File | 1995-02-08 | 17KB | 281 lines

asiaa_1.sty
Amy, the Thai Tease
Chapter One


Dr. Robert Allyn walked quickly down the hall to his 8 am class.  Not
because he was late, for he always arrived a few minutes early to be sure
to start his class on time.  He enjoyed teaching and especially liked early
classes, him buzzing from three cups of coffee and half the class waking
up to jolt of his lectures.  Another thought putting spring in his step was
the image of the lovely young women who took his class.  Faces fresh and
beautiful were always there, sometimes with the added bonus of sexy fashions.
Occasionally blouses with an extra button left undone or a top with a scoop
neck cut a little too low woke him up during his first-of-the-day class, but
more often the thin or tight fabrics revealed the shape of lacy bra.

"Women's liberation has won, at least here on campus.  Why are the bras
still around?  By all rights they should be in the dustbin of history," he
thought, remembering the bra burnings of the sixties.  "But what we've lost
up top, we've gained down below."  Today's fashions ran to short skirts and,
the most popular, tight, thin leggings that looked sprayed on.  Watching
young women walking in the halls or across the campus was a unique pleasure
that gave each day at work its own little fantasies.

This morning's class, however, had its own special attraction.  While all
classes had some women with curvy legs or soft breasts or sensual lips, it
was rare to find that perfect fantasy woman who, wherever your eyes or
imagination roamed, slipped past your thinking, concious mind and moved
directly into the lair of animal reflex that grabs and shakes the libio
awake.  Amy was one such woman.  As Dr. Allyn entered the classroom and
greeted the early students, he noticed she hadn't yet arrived.  Laying out
his notes, he found images of her flashing through his mind.  Her face was
fascinating; although she came from Thailand, her features were a mix of
Asian and European with eyes not quite round, and a nose just bit broader
than most.  He wasn't sure if her dark brown hair was natural or tinted to
fit in better with the rest of the students.  Her fair skin covered a soft,
lushly padded, petite body.  Often she wore skirts, knee-length or shorter,
that displayed curved calves and soft thighs.  This perfect hourglass shape
was accented by a larger than normal bustline.  Two of her outfits in
particular had low scooped necklines that showed cleaveage worthy of the
finest pin-ups.  Many times since the semester began, the good doctor found
himself at home, gripping his cum-smeared dick in pleasure as he ran through
every fantasy he had ever had, and some he didn't know he had, placing Amy
in the role of his personal succubus.

Amy walked into class just as he was about to start.  His "Good morning" was
returned with a smile as she took a seat near the front of the room.
Starting up his lecture, he thought that today was a *good* day.  The lovely
Amy was wearing a neat charcoal-grey jacket and matching short skirt that
showed plenty of leg and a silvery scoop top with a bra that pushed her
bosums up and together.  As he talked, he tried not to look at her, being
uncomfortable with his feelings for her.  He was afraid that his attraction
to her would show in front of the class.  Either he would favor her with
looks, or stumble in his speech or find a bulge growing in his trousers, so
he conciously avoided looking at her, treating her seat as if it were empty.

But eventually he always felt that by totally avoiding her, he was being
unfair to her as a student, and this avoidance might in itself signal his
fantasies.  Today, as usual, this unconcious game of "Do I? - Don't I?"
played under the surface of his mind until his eyes finally turned to her.

The first time, her head was down taking notes, so he moved his eyes from
the tops of her breasts peeking out of the shimmering silver top to her
shapely legs and thighs visible under the desk.  The dark stockings she wore
outlined the curve of her calves, and a lacy pattern of interlocked diamonds
and circles ran up the outside of each leg and thigh.  Unable to stare when
in front of the class, he turned his gaze away.  The next time he looked,
her head was up, and her dark brown eyes were looking into his, not looking
away as most other students did when his eyes found theirs.  She must have
noticed when his eyes wandered down to the wide expanse of her full breasts
and back to her face, but never gave a sign.

Midway through the class, Bob gave a few questions for the students to work
on using concepts just discussed in class and walked around giving help and
encouragement.  At Amy's desk, he saw an error and reached down with a pen
to point it out.  "Think about this a little bit more," he said, looking
down her blouse at tops of soft breasts with black lace peeking up the sides
and the smooth valley in between rather than the paper he was pointing at.

Suddenly, his hand, inches from her breasts, jumped as if from an electric
shock when her hair slipped off her shoulder and fell across his knuckles
and fingers as she turned her head to look at him with a small smile and
questioning eyes.  He felt a wave of dizziness and his vision flashed red
as the sweet scent of her perfume suddenly filled the room.  He made some
encouraging grunts in response to her look and walked back to sit at his
desk, the image of her breasts, the scent of her perfume and the soft, silky
touch of her hair rolling into a wave of arousal that he couldn't control.
Sitting at his desk, his groin swelling and throbbing, he stared at his
notes, but his eyes were pulled to the place under her desk where her
crossed legs poured out of a skirt that reached only a quarter of the way
down her thighs and filled the dusky stockings that ended in shiny black
heels.

Bob managed to finish the class by having the students present the solutions
to the problems, never calling on Amy.  Focusing on other students, he
gradually felt his body cool down and his head clear.  He did look at her
once and got a smile and sparkling eyes.  He didn't look again.  It was too
dangerous; he felt out of control and dangerously public.  Never did he want
his secret fantasies made public, or even revealed to one student.

After class, the shaken doctor sat in his office, his mind, more calm now,
turning the images and feelings over, arousing himself once more.  Female
students had always been a side attraction, a hobby if you will.  It had
never interfered with his work or affected his relationship with his
students.  But never ever had he been so completly overwhelmed by one of
his little fantasy objects in public.

He unzipped his trousers, brought out his rigid pole and began rubbing the
swollen head and stroking the shaft.  He'd only done this at school once
before, late in the day when few people were around.  The excitement of
doing the forbidden and the novelty of the place had attracted him before.
This time he was reacting to something deep inside him that needed release.
He imagined stroking Amy's silky mane as her full lips were wrapped around
his cock, her tongue massaging the sensitive head.  Pictures of her breasts
forming a tunnel for his hard rod, of her legs wrapped around his waist as
they joined together, of her jiggling ass being bathed in sperm, these and
many images more raced through his mind, emerging from past fantasies and
being given power by the contact he had had today, pushing him to orgasm.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Wha-! Who-who's there?" he said like a little kid caught by parents.

The latch snicked - he hadn't locked it!?! - and the door swung open.
Closing the door behind her, Amy clicked in on her heels, calves taut,
kneecaps sliding, thighs flexing as she walked towards the chair he kept on
the opposite side of the desk for students. "Hi Bob," she said beaming as
she sat down.  "I need to see you for a minute.  Are you busy?"  Her voice
was high, even a bit squeaky, but lent a little girl innocence to the young
woman.  This sweet, soft voice often whispered encouragements and cried out
obscenities in Bob's fantasy sessions at home.

As soon as the door latch had clicked, Bob had rolled his chair forward,
jamming his stomach against the desk and effectively hiding his engorged
member.  Now, with Amy seated, her angle of view was limited by the desk
between them, and he could relax and push back a bit.  "Well," he said
clearing his throat, "What's your problem?"

"I forgot to do part of my homework, and I want to turn it in now.  Last
night I got a call from my girlfriend when I was answering the questions.
We talked for one hour, and then I studied my math.  I forgot that I didn't
finish your homework.  Now I was looking at my notes and I found this one."
She pulled out a piece of notebook paper with notes scribbled on it and
layed it down on the desk.  "I want to copy it now and give it to you," she
finished, her eyes wide below straight cut bangs in a face framed by long,
straight hair running down to her chest.

"Oh, sure.  I haven't even looked at the papers yet. Let's see..."  Bob
picked up the ragged pile of papers on his desk and leafed through till he
saw her name, "Amy," written in the curlicue-filled hand that she'd learned
at school in Thailand.  "Here it is.  Just add on what you need to," he said
handing her the paper across the desk.  Amy slipped off her jacket, fished
a pencil out of her pocketbook and set to work.

Bob, on the other hand, now found his hand gripping something as hard as a
pencil, but quite a bit larger.  He had wilted quickly when Amy walked in,
but as soon as the immediate danger of discovery had passed, he felt his
stiffening penis bumping against the cool metal of his desk.  After passing
her the paper, he had reached down to tuck it between his legs.  On touching
his engorged member, a second wave of passion rolled over him.  His
awareness was narrowed to his throbbing penis waving in the air under the
desk and the beautiful woman sitting across from him.  As the world outside
disappeared, so did any control he had over the desire his heart pumped to
his pounding brain and to his twitching cock.  His hand began stroking his
cock rythmically, bending at the wrist only to keep the action secret.

Amy was sitting across from him, the chair sideways against the desk, her
upper torso twisted towards him and bent forwards writing.  Although only
the top edge of her legs was visible, Bob had a good view of her tempting
bosum.  Nipples pushed out bumps on the silvery top, and the jutting
mounds of flesh tembled slightly with the action of her writing.  Erasing
produced a quivering in the flesh that fed heat to Bob's rigid penis and
began a building surge in his balls.  He watched the curled ends of her
hair brush back and forth across the tops of her tits tracing patterns
that his tongue longed to follow.  He stared at her cute lips coverd in a
bright pink lipstick, the lower lip full and pouting, the upper a beautiful
bow shape.  As they pursed to ponder the spelling of a word, he imagined
brushing the head of his cock back and forth over them, smearing lipstick
on the shinny helmet.  His breathing struggled to become deeper as pressure
ran up from his balls to his hard shaft bobbing in his hand a few inches
below Amy's form, bent over her work.  In turn, he struggled to maintain an
outward calm while the most incredible waves of pleasure spread over his
body.  The more effort he put into remaining composed outside, the stronger
the urges created by his own stroking until any and every detail of the sexy
girl sitting three feet away made him want to leap up and writhe in
masturbatory passion in front of his student.

Then, Amy layed her pencil down with a click, and brought her hands up to
her nipples.  Her thumbs pressed first one nub, then the other, and as they
snapped back to attention pushing the more insistently at the material of
her top, she picked up the pencil and continued her work, never raising her
eyes to look at Bob.

The proud nipples coaxed out the cum that had been building in Bob since
his first class.  The first spurting jet lanced straight for the cleft
displayed by her low cut top, stopped only the half inch of desktop between
them.  Surge after surge followed, Bob's gaze still locked on the nubile
Thai coed seated across from him.

After the heat had poured out of his body, Bob was left with a sticky mess
cooling in his lap and soaking into clothes - and a rising panic that set
his heart pounding again.  He had just jerked off in front of a student!
Tenure or no tenure, stuff like this could get him fired.  How could he
possibly face her in class?  What must she think of him?  But, incredibly,
Amy continued writing as if she had noticed nothing.

Amy finished writing and put the papers on her lap.  Then she opened her
purse, dropped the pencil in and reached for the stapler on Bob's desk.
Again, her smile lit up the room, her bright pink lips framing white
teeth, and Bob was startled to find himself stirring again.  "Can I use
this?" she asked while she stapled the sheets together and leaned across
the desk to stuff them into the middle of the pile of assignments sitting
next to Bob.  "I don't want you to see it.  I'm afraid it's not good."

Bob quickly snugged himself against the edge of the desk.  "Could she use
this?  She can use more than that!"  Bob thought, again looking at her
gorgeous cleavage.  But even as the thought came to mind, conciousness of
his dangerous position took charge.  Keeping his gooey right hand hidden in
his lap, he replied, "I'm sure it's fine."  This was certainly true.  Her
grades were always amoung the top 5 or so in the class, but he hoped that
she didn't notice the quiver in his voice.  He couldn't believe that she
didn't notice his flushed face or ragged breathing.  Yet, she acted as if
this were a normal visit with her professor.

"Bye.  See you later," her high voice tinkled as she gathered her purse and
jacket, turned and walked to the door.  Her heels tapped out each step, and
her stockinged legs set her rear twitching provacatively.  She shot a last
beaming smile at him as she closed the door.

If Bob had not just cum, her pulsing butt would have been enough to pop
his cork.  He stared at the closed door, stopped trying to control his
breathing and thought about what had just happended.  Had he imagined her
touching her nipples?  He had been trying like mad to control his outer
reactions, but when he had shot his load he hadn't been very aware of what
was going on.  Was her smile a sign that she knew, that she'd blackmail him
for grades or money or both?  Yet, nothing in her manner suggested this.

Bob used a handkerchief to mop up the stickiness on his hand, pants and
crotch.  Then he got some paper towels and cleaned the underside of his
desk, the floor and his chair.  He couldn't believe how much he had cum.
Or rather he could believe it.  He simply could not recall a time when he'd
felt more sexually charged.  While this was not exactly living out one of
his fantasies of bedding a nubile student, it was a close as he was ever
likely to come to it.  Certainly it was closer than he had ever wanted to
be.  Nowadays, charges of sexual harrassment would destroy a person's
career.  Even if he survived legally, it being her word against his, the
reaction of colleages and students to such charges would make it very
uncomfortable, to say the least, to stay at the university.  Was sexual
harrassment strong enough to describe what he'd done?

When his trousers had dried out, Bob left his office and drove home.  At
home he continued to ponder the morning's events, alternately feeling
aroused and disgusted with himself.  So, it wasn't until that evening that
he got around to correcting the students' assignments.  When he got to
Amy's paper, he found, stapled between the two sheets of paper, a card.
The card said:
                  _____________________________
                 |                             |
                 |       Admit One Free!!!     |
                 |     Cat Dancer Playhouse    |
                 |        69 W. Main St.       |
                 |_____________________________|

On the back, in script with more circles and florishes than normal, was a
short note:
                  _____________________________
                 |                             |
                 |    Please come and enjoy!   |
                 |                             |
                 |            *Amy*            |
                 |_____________________________|


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