Professor Beware

PROFESSOR BEWARE! By Titslave This Midwestern university had good looking women coming out of the ears. The enrollment was around 60,000 and the five of us guys were determined to exploit this vast resource. The wonderfully landscaped grounds of the campus were an ideal setting for hitting on girls. There were so many that after a while you knew you were going to get lucky - just keep asking, keep asking and talking and one of them would consent to a date - with more than a kiss at the end of the evening. What we five had in common was that we lusted after women who dug showing off in front of all of us, and were amenable to having sex with all of us. We were obsessed with gang bang girls. They were rare - most co-eds hadn't the slightest interest in multiple sex partners - but we found that this special chick was more commonplace than we thought. And when they were real stacked, and married, shit we were in paradise. Those were in the "A-1" category. Call me Denny. I was a charter resident of the "ASS House", Alpha Sigma Sigma, a quasi-Hellenic organization with no charter, no university recognition, no initiation or community service, no pledges. Its roster also consisted of Mickey, a hulking Irishman majoring in electives, Ricky, in education because that's where the ladies were, Terry, a lineman on the university football team and looked it, and Pat, a street-wise guy from Chicago's Bridgeport neighborhood. Pat was having a hard time staying focused and was often on academic probation. He never said so but we also figured he was connected. I was proud to get wasted on a regular basis with these devout woman-hunters. You hear about this triangle of wanton wife, wimp husband (sheepishly or willingly standing there) while one or more young studs has sex with her. But there are important, unexpected outcomes that you should know about. We worked on a dance department grad student, long, supple, enchanting. She lured us to her condo, where her husband was watching ESPN. It turned out he was an ex-marine. We were half wasted and in a party mood. We started pawing her in front of him, making taunting comments about how much we wanted to see her ass. Here was a tough guy who in reality had no balls. This was going to be sensational, we thought. Nobody told him, apparently, about the lack of balls. He went over to Mick, who was sitting on their couch and rubbing his hands all over her bare ass, her hands reaching behind, pulling him into her very tight rump. Mick stood up and went to push this guy away, saying: "Oh oh here comes hubby.". In two seconds Mick was crashed to the floor, yelping in pain, with a dislocated elbow. Then Pat, jumping in with a left hook, found himself airborne, and smashed into a sliding window. Fifty stitches. He temporarily lost feeling in one of his legs from the glass wounds. The husband's reaction led the rest of us promptly to conclude that the mission should be scrubbed. He very calmly told us to collect up our pals and get the fuck out, and he said this with no sign of any increase in pulse or blood pressure. But when we did connect with somebody with a loser husband, or fianc?, it was fantastic. Last summer Ricky, Terry and I sat at a table at a quiet sidewalk cafe in town and noticed a thirty-something woman with her two toddlers, two tables away. Lunch was winding down and our tables were the only ones occupied. Hers was half hidden from the others. She had short red hair and sparkling green eyes. There was a fourth chair empty at her table and we kind of figured they were waiting for her husband. But in the meantime she looked over at us several times and we responded eagerly, checking out her long tanned legs, first class gams, crossed and half aimed our way enticingly. She had on plaid shorts that fitted loosely on her. Her kids were playing with their food and she would scold them, then return to looking at us. We recognized her as a woman we had met at a campus bar a few weeks back. She was there with her girlfriends and had stared at all the guys, including us. It is difficult to miss a redhead wearing next to nothing, and leaning with her back to the bar so her big chest sticks out impudently. Pat bought her drinks and did some promising slow dances, but then she had to leave suddenly, and was real pissed about leaving. So now we discover she has little kids. Ricky had the server buy her a glass of wine on us. Then another. She said "thank you" and turned to face us more and more, paying less attention to her little ones. As she emptied the second glass she called over: "Well?" Ricky smiled: "Well what?" "Don't you want to come over here and have a drink with me? It's really nice to see you again." The white blouse she wore showed off her smoothly browned arms and ample tits, which seemed to have been a spectacular source of nourishment for her children. She had to be braless and the wonderful heaviness made them sit a little lower on the ribs. We stood up and walked over, and I had a hell of a hard on, pushing stiffly at the fabric of my khakis. We introduced ourselves again and she shook our hands lingeringly. "Beth, remember?" she smiled. "Would you mind if we picked up your children and put them in our laps and sat with you?" Ricky said. "That would be great, the seven month boy is getting antsy" she grinned as a glass appeared before her. "If you keep buying me this pinot grigio I'll need to sit in one of your laps too!" She placed her arms under her bosom, grabbing her elbows, and pushed up, closing her eyes. "Mmmmmm that tastes so good." The tops of her tits pushed at the open top of her blouse. Terry was the one without a kid in his lap and touched her arm. "My lap is ready now." "Will I break something if I sit in it?" she giggled, staring down at his lap, and moving her head down toward her lap, she said, turning to look up at him: "I thought I noticed evidence of manliness when you stood close to me," then she looked at me: "and that goes for you too, Denny. You guys are healthy!" Ricky said: "That goes for me too. Maybe you can sit on each of our laps, Beth, and sample the evidence of manliness." "Oh you're naughty," she said. "Too bad I couldn't be on all your laps at once, like one big, hard lap." She stared at Ricky and smiled. Leaning back in her chair she pushed her chest out and put her hands in her hair. She was now facing in at the table and my leg rubbed against hers; she made no effort to move it. I put my hand on her thigh and slowly began to caress the soft skin. I felt her hand roam quickly over my lap and settle on my cock. "Oooh Denny, I think you like me. Denny likes me alot," she said. Ricky said to me: "Why don't you and I switch and Beth can find out how much I like her?" He handed me little Brandon and we changed chairs. Beth's hand immediately went under the table when he sat down. "Ricky likes me too" she said, as he scooted the chair toward her more. Terry on her other side and was holding Priscilla, who was getting rambunctious. "Your turn," he said to Ricky. We knew Terry owned a log and after he sat down he did something under the table. "Oh my, Terry, you REALLY like me! I feel something meaty. Well Terry you're SUCH a big guy." "Why don't you unbutton your blouse e can see your chest?" he said. "Beth!" We turned and saw a tall guy with glasses and a briefcase, in a suit, smiling, heading our way from the front of the restaurant. Beth pulled away from Terry. He looked puzzled at our presence, his children in our laps. I stood up. "Hi Honey!" she smiled. "This is Terry, this is Ricky, and this is Denny. This is my husband Patrick." He frowned slightly. He told us he was on his lunch hour from the bank. She kissed him on the cheek, and put her arm around him. "They're in my class at the university, honey. We were talking about a study group at the house, with that final coming up." He looked at his agitated child and said: "Ricky, let me take her for you. She's in the terrible twos, you know." Patrick sat down where Ricky had been sitting, and rocked the toddler in his lap. We did small talk and I noticed that Beth's hand was back under the table, and that Terry must still be hanging out there because he never adjusted himself. Patrick looked at her cleavage and gestured nervously with a free hand, as if to say: "button up, you're showing too much." She said out loud: "What are you trying to tell me?" "Your blouse," he said, looking at us after he said it. "What about it?" He smiled patien frustrated: "It's too open at the top." Terry disagreed, "I don't know, Patrick. From where I sit it's unbelievable." "Oh," she said to Patrick, but looked at us when she said it, "you think it shows too much?" "Yeah," he said, growing uneasy. "My husband thinks I should button my blouse. Terry, who stares at me each night at class, says no." Patrick was doing that thing with the jaw where the mandibles are clicking, he was so upset. She stood up and leaned forward, shaking her braless tits and looking at the cleavage as she did it. With her head cocked down she looked at me, the light creating a wonderful effect in her auburn hair. "We need a tie breaker here. Denny, button up or leave it open?" "Actually I want you to go for two," I said. She kept leaning and shaking and said: "Who's in favor? Say aye." Patrick said: "Beth, what the hell's the idea?" She ignored him and unbuttoned another button, offering a balls-emptying view of her fat tits. "Let's go study," she said, standing up. "Honey, can you watch the kids while we study?" "Beth, I need to talk to you - now," he said, the child in his arms starting to bawl. He motioned her over to the next table. A normal guy would have probably told her to hit the highway for good, and/or maybe taken us on. They talked briefly and then Patrick, with both kids in tow, walked out. "See you at home in a few minutes! They need naps!" she called. She walked with us to our car, kissing one of us, then the other. We got to their house after driving around for about fifteen minutes, a colonial in the nice part of town, away from the university beer joints and collegiate housing. We went in to the living room and she told us to sit down in some chairs and relax. Patrick was sitting in middle of the couch, his arms folded, taciturn, staring straight ahead like an automaton. Then she took off her blouse and stood in the middle of the room, playing with her massive tits. They were incredibly round, full, and the monster nipples that protruded from them sinfully toward us made me think she was nursing. Looking at our excited reactions she said: "Hey Patrick, I think I have too much milk even after feeding Brandon." "Oh," he said, pouting. "What should I do, honey?" she said slyly. "I don't know," he muttered. "Well," she purred, turning to face him and shaking her ass at us seductively, "I've got to do something." She sucked on each nipple and pushed that incredible tit-meat to her s She sucked on them again and then put her hands around one tit, squeezing the teat. A long jet of titmilk shot out to her side, and the only light in the room, the sunlight through a side window, hinted at it. She swayed over toward us, working one tit then the other. "Patrick, my tits are SO FULL. Can't you help me out, honey?" She turned and walked to him, stood in front of him and shot tit milk on him for a few minutes, hitting his face and now his bare chest. "You've had enough," she giggled, "now it's time for my study session." She sat on a large coffee table, cupping her tits. "Well," she said, laughing, "I can't suck your cocks if you're sitting over THERE." We hustled over to the coffee table and she knelt on it, raising her chest to cock level. We took out our dicks. "Patrick knows how much I love cock," she said, sighing as her hands fondled our schlongs. She took Ricky into her mouth gladly, looking over at her husband. "Honey, why don't you play with yourself? Bashful?" He began to rub his crotch. She took one of her milk-swollen tits and sprayed milk on our dicks, one at a time, then sucked them again. "Do you think there will be anything on the final about sucking cocks?" she said, in awe at the hard dickmeat staring her in the face. Ricky growled at her: "Why don't you squirt titmilk on our cocks from both of them at the same time? Yeah. Do it." He looked over at her husband. "I think your Beth likes to show her udders. She's shooting all over my dick, Patrick." Terry practically came in her face when she took his sword all the way to his pubic hair, and all you heard was her slobbering blowjob, her hands rubbing on the other two dicks, and her husband, who was now kind of panting and had his dick out. She loved to deep throat and enthusiastically licked each of our balls. "I cannot wait to fuck you guys," she giggled, breathing harder and harder. She turned around on the table and pulled her shorts down to her knees. "Let's turn to the ass chapter," she said, pulling at her butt cheek with one hand, her big tits hanging weightily. Her asshole was all stretched and Terry began fondling her ass. Ricky and I played with her awesome boobs. "Hope this study session didn't inconvenience you, Patrick," Ricky said, squeezing her right tit and pulling on her soaking wet teat. "I think your wife is really digging this three-on-one. So you ready to fuck us Beth? I quess your asshole is hungry for cock." We laughed. "I want all you guys to fuck my asshole," she moaned. "Patrick, take care of the kids after the nap, OK?" He nodded, his stroking picking up speed. She looked over at him for a long time, her face contorting in sexual pleasure as Ricky's thick cock slowly entered her body. "Oh God," she whimpered. Ricky was now looking at Patrick also. "You like that, baby?" he said, his eyes on Patrick. "You know I do!" she gasped, smiling at her husband. She pushed her ass at him, starving for mo him. After a few minutes he couldn't hold back much longer and began pistoning her rectum rapidly. "On my tits, you fucker!" she yelled. He pulled out of her ass and she turned to jack him off. He was lost in ecstasy and shot gallons of cum on her shoulders and face. He collapsed back in a chair and watched as she rubbed and slid the copious semen down to her tits. Then she stood and walked over to her husband, turning and bending over, shaking her slutty ass tauntingly in his face. She turned to face him and straddled his lap. Pulling him into her bosom she sinfully shook her tits into his face, then stuck a hard nipple in his mouth. He moaned and sucked on it. Then as quickly as she had done this she stepped away. He reached out, saying in a childlike tone: "Come back. I want more." "Nope. Time for more dick," she giggled, sweat now running down her brow. Then she said authoritatively, looking at a wall clock: "After you have your big thrill honey go check the kids and keep them occupied until I say so." She sat straddling the arm of the couch, with her back to us. Her fat sexy ass spread wonderfully. She looked back over her shoulder in our direction. "Hey Terry," she said with a coy widening of the eyes, her hands now kneading her ass cheeks, "you want some of this ass? You want to fuck my asshole with that jumbo cock?" He a ran to her, and pulled his pants down to his knees. I sat at the couch and sucked and grabbed her left tit, the huge breastmeat hanging incredibly over my upturned face. She rubbed the thick nipple frantically against my lips and I felt a warm, sweet flow of titmilk into my mouth and down my chin. Then she cried out. Terry had spread her ample butt cheeks, aimed his extra large dick at her anus, and then pushed inside her. Patrick was staring hypnotized at the scene of his wife obviously savoring to the hilt the experience of getting screwed in the butt by a virtual stranger and lewdly squirting tit milk in another man's face while she stroked his achingly hard penis. I mean her husband was totally enjoying this. He just stared trancelike and then shot his wad all over his bank clothes. He went upstairs. Sucking titmilk made me so hot I could barely contain myself, because I wanted to fuck her in the ass, desperately. Terry just kept ramming it into her, and they got this rhythm going that was something to watch. We moved around so that she was on the couch facing out, her legs up, and Terry giving her many inches of masculine beef pleasure. I rubbed my cock against her face and she eagerly turned to suck me off, rubbing my nuts gently with her hand. Beth was no longer connected to alot of what was going on - she was completely lost in the passion of having cock at both ends. After about fifteen minutes of this she yelled that she wanted our cum in her face. Ricky's dick was ready to go again and Terry and I jacked off on her face while she sat on his cock on the couch, taking it lustfully in the pussy. She shot milk all over the place, Ricky's mauling hands under hers, squeezing her big tits like a maniac. Patrick jacked off again from the stairs watching it. We heard childrens' voices and headed off, to return several times more for some marvelous sex with Beth. Prior to the most recent incident I am going to relate, our last score was Patti, the wife of the assistant dean of the college of engineering. She was this middle-aged blonde who was evidently not getting anything at home, and the way she strolled slowly down River Street in the late afternoon, her delicious ass swaying inside jeans that were practically painted on - led Terry and me to get her schedule down. She didn't seem to have anywhere to go. She just walked, her neck length hair straight, blowing nicely, her walk a studied, sultry, advertising walk. Soon we were chatting with her and the three of us walked together. A few times she saw us with Micky and Pat. We went for coffee and once for a beer. With each passing stroll the chatting got more suggestive, and we pushed it that way. Terry was the lech, I was the more refined lech. "We knew it was you," Terry said after we spotted her and caught up with her one afternoon. "Or should I say we knew it was your sexy ass." Patti, who was overweight somewhat but in a voluptuous way that put pounds delightfully on her chest and around her butt, frowned and smiled at the same time. "I'm not sure I should talk to you dirty boys!" Her ample buttocks pushed luciously against khakis that seemed to have nothing underneath. "Oh, Terry is just an honest guy," I said, reassuringly. "He could have said, 'Madam, we were pleased to notice you from a distance, your charms being so radiant that they could not be missed." She laughed, sultry lines forming in her face. "Well, that's very flattering!" Then she put her hand in Terry's and purred, "and I do like a man who likes my body and doesn't beat around the - uh - bush." She caressed his face quickly, in a nervous way that showed anticipation building inside. "So you think I have a nice ass?" she said in a jerky, excited way to Terry, squeezing his hand. "Yeah, and you've got one hell of a rack too," he said, looking at them as she admired his very fit torso. "Exactly what's so sexy about my ass?" she said as we strolled. The way she said it was incredibly dirty, and maybe she knew that this was a guaranteed method of getting us hard. "It is so nicely round and curved," I said. Terry took the direct route. "It is totally beautiful. I want to grab it hard and bury my face in it." "Oooooh, you are SO perverted!" she said, a pretend tone of shock in her bedroom voice. "But I'm a married woman. I have a husband who is about to come home for dinner." We paused at an intersection, oblivious to the students on bikes next to us, the motorcyclist buzzing by right under our noses. Then she said: "Where are the other guys you hang out with? They were sure looking me over." "They're around," I said, "did you want to meet them some time?" "Oh my, yes," she said pleadingly, "they're so handsome and sexy. Promise me." We walked until we reached a residential street and she stopped at a walk leading to her home. Patti said, "Thank you for escorting me to my door, gentlemen. Would you like to make sure my house is safe before I enter it?" She had these bright blue eyes and thick lips. Her print blouse was opened at the top, and Terry was ready to grab one of her big tits. The cleavage was deep and enticing. I was rather distracted by her big chest myself, and as I stared at it I said: "Maybe we could keep you company until your husband arrives, which we hope is not soon.....Uh....Patti, you have VERY large breasts. Terry and I can't stop staring at them. Your husband must look forward to playing with those big tits every morning. Terry, wouldn't you like these knockers in your face if you had her in bed with you? I know I would give them quite a work out. Especially your nipples." My eyes went back and forth from one to the other, then to her beaming face. We were making her red, and more nervous. Terry and I got a lot of energy from it. It was like scaling a mountain and getting more passionate about reaching the top the further we got. She was getting a little unsteady on her feet and leaned on the gate near her front sidewalk. Terry smiled at her. "Yeah, and I like the way you show them off. Denny and I know you like us checking you out. You like teasing us, don't you, you cockteaser?" She stared at him, her lips parted, her hand rubbing unconsciously on her hip. "Mmmmmm, you are so nasty," she said. He began stroking her back, "Why don't we make sure the house is safe and then you'll show us your big tits?" He and I just gazed at her breasts, saying nothing, then stared at her face. She looked intently at him, then me, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Her rubbing got more vigorous. She looked at our swollen crotches. "I think my husband will be home by then. He's coming any minute now....and if this keeps up I am too," she grinned, looking back and forth between our groins. "So," I said sarcastically, "he's going to watch?" Two friends jogged by and I waved absently. "Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, he likes to." Terry's eyes widened. I jerked my head to look hard at her. We cursed our luck in finding this situation, right up our alley. She spoke slowly and seductively now. "He won't admit it but he does. He always comes in through the back and tiptoes in so that he thinks I don't know he's home." So, her husband liked it that way. She took us by the hand and led us into a rambling, wood two floor home, circa 1910, with a porch in back. We were aroused big time and couldn't wait to fuck her. We stood in their old-fashioned living room, which opened into the kitchen. There was a finished porch attached to it with a window in the wall between the two rooms, making a line of sight, she explained, into the center of the living room. I began kissing Patti from one side and Terry from the other. She had on a strong cologne that made things pretty. She slowly took my tongue in her mouth then I took hers, and then she leaned her head back to deep kiss Terry. Our hands grabbed and squeezed her heavy, big fat tits. Her nipples stuck out and I couldn't wait to suck them while I fucked her. Immediately her breathing went off the chart and she told us to get our dicks out. He and I were hard as rocks. She wanted to set this up with her husband's arrival. "He'll watch from the screen porch and then he'll be looking at us from the kitchen," she said softly. As soon as we heard that there came the sound of a car pulling in the driveway, but no door slamming or footsteps o walk or back porch. "Why don't we get your friends over here? I really feel like sucking cock." She said matter of factly. She pointed to a telephone sitting on an end table next to the couch. "It's cordless," she said to Terry as he walked over to it. "Let me talk to 'em too, okay?" I stood behind her - she was now facing a couch and was at a right angle to the kitchen - and I excitedly unbuttoned her blouse. Terry called the house and got Pat. "Hey Pat," he grinned, "we're with a very sexy lady over on Crossland Street. She wants to meet you and whoever else is around. Right now. She's blonde, got really big tits and a peeping Tom for a husband. And she wants to talk to you." Terry handed the phone to her. I could hear Pat's excited voice. Terry resumed his enthusiastic exploration of this wild university wife. He was facing her and kissing her face and neck, rubbing her crotch. She made us sit in chairs we pulled out into the middle of the living room, so that she could pose lewdly for us. She had to be in her early forties but Christ she had a hell of a body. As she spoke to Pat she strutted toward the kitchen and dramatically ground her ass, leaning forward, and moved her free hand up her thighs to her butt, digging her fingers softly, then furiously, into her fat ass cheeks. As we salivated over this display I made out a figure looking through the porch window. "Who's this?" she said seductively. "Pat, get your ass over here and party with - what are your names again?" she said to us. She spoke our names over the phone, then: "768 Crossland. My husband isn't home yet, but you never know. Bye Pat" She threw the phone onto a chair and giggled and stood between us, sticking her chest out. "So do you guys like real big tits?" she said. Our hands were grabbing them crudely, our pulses racing with the thought of her voyeur spouse taking it all in. Patti was wearing this black bra with the French sexy design and pulled her tits out so that they stood out impudently over the bra cups. She looked down at us and shook her chest so that her knockers bounced crazily, every which way. She laughed and turned around and pulled her pants slowly down her swaying hips. We had begun to disrobe and the sight of our fully extended dicks and nuts made her crazy. Patti got on her knees and began jacking us. "I just love young cock!" she said. She took me into her mouth and stroked Terry, gripping his very thick meat like there was no tomorrow. Like a wine bottle, or so it seemed. "Look at that dick, just look at both of these," she sighed. I heard noises on the porch; a quick glance sug d a rhythmic action of some kind. Her husband was jacking off? "Are you going to fuck me with these dicks?" she said to us, jacking both of them, then rubbing them against her face at the same time. "You know we are," I moaned, staring at her. Terry laughed: "Hey Patti, you're quite a cocksucker. If you can take my dick like you give a blowjob, you might just drive me insane! Oh yeah, suck that dick, you whore. Lie on the couch so I can fuck your face." "In a minute," she giggled. She stood up and faced the kitchen, rubbing her clit and whimpering while we squeezed her ass hard with our now frantic hands. I knelt behind her and buried my tongue in her ass, my cock poking out from between her legs, rubbing against inner thighs. She played with herself with her left hand and lovingly ran her fingers up and down Terry's big fat hard while he stood at her right side. Their tongues danced while he kneaded her big tits, pulling on her protruding teats as if he were milking udders. She cocked her head to the right, saying for her husband's benefit: "Little hubby is loving this. And I do mean little in all ways" She laughed heartily. Pat was knocking at the door. He peered in. "Anyone home?" She called, "Door's open!" Pat and Mick walked in. They stared at the scene with a big smile. She turned to them. "Look at those tits!" Pat said to Mick. She knelt before these guys she had only seen once before and never met and unzipped each of their jeans and began kissing one crotch while fondling the other. She leaned back and pushed her tits hard together between her arms. Pat and Mick each took out their rapidly swelling manhood. She stared and laughed: "Terry, I like your friends! I'm surrounded by cock!" While she held Mick's hot poker with one hand she sucked on Pat's cock, licking its head, kissing the whole shaft, and giggling when he shook it in her face and rubbed it against her cheeks, bouncing it in front of her nose and eyes. She shook her tits against each of their cocks then wrapped her tits around each one, sliding the breastmeat up and down slowly and staring up at each of them, closing eyes when Pat poked his rod against her lips while she titfucked Mick. Patti liked it rough. She liked to be spanked until her ass turned crimson, and got off on being smacked in the face. She liked real hard fucking in her lucious ass. She tried to work two cocks into her pussy or butt at once, but settled for one in her ass and one in her pussy. She liked it when we fucked her mouth on the couch, cockmeat stuffing itself relentlessly down her throat. She demanded that we fist her pussy and ass at the same time. I wasn't totally into some of this shit and took a back seat while Pat and Terry obliged. By the time we were all at the absolute edge she called her husband out of the kitchen. She had him lay on the floor directly under her tits and she jacked us off so that cum ran in copious gobs off her face and tits and into his open mouth. You might say he was the mousy type. By the time of my first year in the MBA program we five were living right next to very fancy faculty housing. This was where faculty that had the money and the clout began to trickle in. It was brand new, and somehow, due to the vagaries of campus planning, our notorious "frat house" was right next door to the first of the swanky townhomes. Of all the self-important, overstuffed know-it-alls to move in next door to us, we got Professor Keller, chairman (or "chair", if you must) of the psychology department. He was about forty, brilliant and successful as a "get in touch with your feelings" guru. He had even put out a book about how women and men could communicate better and had done well with it, commercially. To top it off he came from old money, back East. Two of us had studied under him and found him intolerably conceited. He delighted in embarrassing pupils in front of others. You went to him for help (if you could find him) and he treated you, smoothly, like a total asshole. He had started up sensitivity groups through his department and caused quite a stir with students, running these groups and introducing participants to their emotional potential. He was quite an operator with this, always alone in the driver's seat while others under his spell. He would steal ideas from students and get credit for them, too. He could be a spellbinder about all that feelings shit. His ego was quite something and most students were intimidated by him, including me. Apparently he needed one more emblem of success and superiority and he certainly found it, or her, in the form of this fabulous brunette that we took notice of when he moved in. Pat and Ricky were on our patio, that faced the new townhomes, and sucking on beers one memorable Spring morning. I was on my way to class. Pat stuck his head in as he slid the screen door and whispered loudly, 'Hey, check this out!'" A petite brunette, with a cigarette in her mouth, was standing on Keller's patio in a tight T-shirt and a bikini bottom. She had these large, brown, stunning eyes with long eyelashes. Her lips were three sizes larger than normal. Then she was leaning against a chair and listening to her husband lecture about something. All she did was nod. He went back inside. She put the cigarette in her mouth and stretched her arms behind her head. Her butt was prominent, perhaps because the rest of her body was so thin. Her legs were shapely but slender. Her arms too. Very thin waist. What really made us stop our morning routine, in addition to her knockout face, was a spectacular set of full, perky, beautifully rounded knockers. She held the stretch and it was stunning. I knew, right then and there, that we had found the A-1 of A-1s. Somehow we were going to get some of that, alot of that. We went over to meet her at once, our shirts off. She was no more than twenty feet away from our patio. "Hello!" Ricky said. She turned and looked at us and said nothing. There was a faint smile on her face. Very faint. As we stepped on to their patio (a hell of a lot nicer than ours, more spacious, pretty flowers and a brand new Weber gas grill) I found that the first impression of her face was hopelessly superficial. This was a uniquely beautiful young woman. Her looks were arresting. Those eyes, with eyelashes an inch or two long, were big and mysterious, and as we conversed they regarded us closely, carefully. Not congenial, but not distant. Between her few words, quietly spoken, her eyes, and her very large chest, she was scary. Really scary. No big smile or chatter like we got out of the babes at the bars. She was so good I feared her. It was that fear tit-loving men don't admit having, but certainly experience, when in the presence of a WELL endowed woman with a that lures men to their doom. She was Heidi. She smoked this cigarette in a defiant, cowgirl style. Blowing smoke harshly out of her mouth. And she stared at us constantly, looking us over as we carried the conversation along. After about twenty minutes of conversation with her I think we were all getting really hard. So Ricky said: "Don't take this the wrong way but that's one hell of a T shirt." Pat said: "I canNOT take my eyes of your T shirt." She smiled at them and pulled on it, staring at the HARVARD letters emblazoned over the white. "You want it?" she said, still looking at the shirt and then up at their faces. "What?" Pat said. "If you like it so much," she laughed. Ricky laughed too. "We were talking about how fantastic you look in it." "Oh, so it's the part of me underneath," she said. "Or the parts," Pat suggested. She said nothing and we went along with the non-verbal moment and just looked at her like she was looking at us. Finally, she grinned: "I guess I have tit men for neighbors." "Hopefully close neighbors," I said. "Well," she said, "I'm going to work on my tan. So the T shirt you guys love so much is coming off, I regret to say." She reached to pull it off and said, in her demure voice: "Stand back, I don't want you to get hurt." She pulled her T-shirt over her head and held it in her hands for a few minutes, her arms stretched behind her. Her bikini top was this brilliant purple and yellow striped garment, modest in cut and holding those two generously, enormously dimensioned tits. We just continued this increasingly tense erotic game of staring at her as we, with exciting pauses in between, made small talk about the new townhouses. She dropped the shirt on the chair. "Well Heidi if there is anything we can get you, day or night," said Ricky finally, more bold in his stares at her big tits, "we're right next door. Consider us on duty twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. We're Heidi's Slaves." She laughed with gusto, the first expression from her lips that was anything approaching loud. A voice came from the interior of their place. "Heidi, are you talking to somebody?" The door slid open and there was Professor Keller, bigger than life, injecting celebrity, arrogance and privilege into situation instantly. 4155 1.11/512345