I am a submissive but it wasn’t always that way. I had been a college professor for about five years when something completely out of the ordinary happened to me. ME! Of all people, something like this, something that NONE of my friends would ever buy, considering I had been that “geeky computer guy” since high school. I mean, I am completely aware that this beautiful temptress was using me for her grades, but I still can’t help but to jerk off to the many afternoons that she would frequent my office.
“Heyas Profs,” she would chirp as she bounced–and by “bounced,” I mean her perky tits bounced–into my office in her particularly short skirts. She was a complete knockout, and she was every girl that I had ever lusted after through college. Of course, some days she came in wearing her cheerleading uniform and, sometimes, even wearing her sorority letters and a micro-mini skirt. She never forgot to accessorize with the hottest stiletto pumps that only accented her perfect slim, long legs. There was nothing about her that wasn’t perfect…well, except for her grades, that is.
I will never forget the first time that she came bouncing into my office with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes; I knew I was in trouble before she ever opened her pretty lips to plead for help academically. I sat in my desk chair, probably staring slack-jawed at her as she started to plead her case about how hard she was working, but it was just too difficult not to stare. I know what she was saying, but my mind kept drifting off to how hot it would be if she would indulge me in my body worship fetish. I couldn’t help but to worship and adore the bodies of sexy, beautiful women. Of course, it never hurt when they knew how to use it to their advantage.
I noticed that she kept scooting her chair closer to my desk, till finally she was practically LAYING on my desk. It was like one of those moments you dream of when you are in college getting a degree in education as a young man–a young tight coed offering up herself for higher grades. I was drooling practically when she snapped me out of my dream world by saying, “You don’t get laid much do, ya?” I was taken aback, regardless of how true it was.
She was staring deep into my eyes when I looked up from gazing at her glorious tits. She was smacking on her bubble gum and smiling at me with a look that told me that she knew me all too well. She walked around the desk, plopped right down in my lap, and told me that if I could help her out with her little problem, she would give me the opportunity of a lifetime. I wasn’t about to resist as she stood up and sat on my desk in front of me to spread her perfect, gorgeous legs before me, all without breaking her stare into my scared, pathetic eyes.
She motioned for me to move closer to her pussy, and, like a puppy, I followed her every command. This is how my lessons in body worship 101 began. This was the first but certaintly NOT the last time that she would come in and use me for my tongue, only to turn around and leave me with blue balls over and over again. I kept trying to please this bratty coed with my diligent body worship week after week, hoping for the chance to feel her hands, lips, maybe even her pussy. I knew that the chances for a guy like me to actually get to fuck a girl like her were slim, but I was certain that if I just tried hard enough through body worship that she would at least feel sorry for me.
I guess over time I became so addicted to watching and hearing her orgasms that all I ever wanted to do was worship her body. I had almost completely forgotten about my desire to fuck her; all I wanted to do was please her, to watch her writhe in pleasure and call out my name quietly. I suppose this is what made me know that I had a serious body worship fetish. Yea, sure a lot of guys enjoy the female body, but I personally just can’t get enough. This bratty coed played me for the entire semester. Not only did she get an A, but she also most definitely met her orgasm quota that semester.