It was a hot summer’s afternoon when Melissa Jones sat down for her first University lecture. She chose to sit on her own near the back of the lecture theatre. She wanted anything but to be stuck inside that, as she had earlier described it, ‘fucking hell hole’. The idea of spending 3 years doing an English Literature course she so desperately tried to get out of had slowly been eating away at her morale for the past 2 months of summer holiday.

She had told her dad how she despised the idea of being forced to read Dickens, Faulkner, even fucking Shakespeare with all his old fashioned colloquialisms. No, that wasn’t for her, she just wanted to model. She had already garnered the attention of several agencies; she knew they liked her perky C cup breasts and long, slender legs, but her cunt of a dad wouldn’t allow it. He had rambled on about how she had a “natural flair” for writing, a “God given gift”, and that wasn’t something he was about to let his daughter waste. Mel had tried to argue, but her dad’s almost vicious tenacity soon won out.

She had at least made one decision about Uni herself; she was going to fuck, and she was going to fuck a lot. She was still a virgin, she reckoned. Some boy had come close at a party a few months back, but he was so nervous he couldn’t keep it up, so she had just sucked him off. She had done that a few times, and loved it. Now she wanted more, and she was going to make sure she got it.

The lecture theatre slowly filled. She looked down at the rows of heads filled with minds eager to learn (minds unlike her own) from her solitary position at the back of the room with utter contempt. Some of the boys kept glancing back at her, and then quickly averted their gaze with a nervous smile planted on their faces This was unsurprising, considering the outfit Mel had opted for today.

Her dad would have described the length of her denim skirt as ‘disgraceful’, but the boys seemed to like the way it showed off her smooth yet toned legs. She knew when she bent over you could easily see the swell of her pussy being covered by her skimpy red thong. She had seemingly innocently given the people on the front row a bit of a show when she ‘accidentally’ dropped her pencil on the floor.

When she stood back up she relished in the disapproving look from the girls, and couldn’t resist giving one of the better looking lads a teasing wink. Her tight button up top turned many a head as she had made her way up the stairs to the back of the room; the top three buttons were undone, and her ample bosom was barely contained . She had decided not to wear a bra today, so her perky nipples excited more than a few in the room as her tits bounced with every step she took. She had her long auburn hair hanging free today, with that natural sexy curl that she knew the model agencies simply adored.

Mel was settling in to a couple of hours of boredom (and most probably a great opportunity to catch up with lost sleep) when the lecturer walked in. He instantly caught Mel’s attention, and she felt a strange and novel feeling in her pussy, almost as if it sent a pulse of pure lust through her body.

He was wearing a pair of khaki trouser and an open collared white shirt (which provided a great contrast against his tanned skin) with the sleeves nonchalantly rolled up to the elbow. His dark hair was of medium length and a little messy, but Mel liked that, she always had, since her first crush back when her mum still had eyes for her dad. The muscle toned definition of his body was apparent even through his loose fitting shirt. This guy definitely fit the bill, and Mel could feel herself getting wet.

The lecturer began talking, but Mel couldn’t hear what he said through this feeling of pure sexual desire.

She had never felt anything so strong before. She had no control over her body. Her hand slowly caressed the inside of her thigh. She slowly moved it towards her pulsing crotch, imagining him kissing her down her neck and gently rubbing her breasts. Her hand grazed her pussy, and she let out a small moan.

She caught the lecturer say something about “...best years of your life...” before she fell deeper in to her fantasy. She pulled her thong over and started to slowly rub her clit, and she was surprised at how new it felt. The shockwave it sent through her body was like nothing she had ever felt before; her body physically tensed with the pure intensity of the ecstasy it sent through her. This man was doing strange things to her already.

She began rubbing her clit faster and faster, her breathing began to become heavy and laboured as red flushed her cheeks. Her nipples stood hard to attention against her top as she imagined her lecturer kissing and sucking them. Her middle finger slowly made a course down to the opening of her pussy, and easily slid inside. She could feel an orgasm coming as she started to stroke her G-spot. Her rubbing became more and more vigorous, her strokes harder and faster, the circles she made around her clit sending electric bolts of sexual heaven coursing through her veins.

The orgasm came upon her suddenly. She had to fight the urge to scream out, but she couldn’t stop her body from jolting with every orgasmic wave that surged through her body. She swore she could feel her lecturer’s cock twitch from the steady throb of his heartbeat inside her. Feel his hands on her body. Feel his lips on her own.

Then the moment was gone. She was brought suddenly back into the world of eager eared students and official, strictly no fucking students allowed lecturers. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed her little venture into the world of sexual rapture, but it seemed none had taken any notice.

Her eyes eventually fell back upon the protagonist of her fantasy, and he seemed to be rounding off what was surely an invigorating introduction to the year with words on working hard but to remember, “You’re here to have fun, too!” He put extra emphasis on the word fun, and looked at Melissa with and coy grin as he did so. Her heart skipped a beat. Had he seen? Did he know? What the fuck would she do if he did? She could be in big fucking trouble, what the fuck would her dad say when he finds out his writing prodigy of a daughter has been kicked out of Uni after the first lecture?

The lecturer dismissed the class, and Melissa was keen to get out of there, but the other students halted her progress. When she made it to the front of the room, she was at the back of the cue. She stole a look at the lecturer, and was awash with relief to see he was taking no notice of her, just packing his things away.

She was just about to walk out of the door when she heard something that left her panic ridden... and made her pussy long for the man behind the voice.

“Miss Jones... can I have a word?”

To be continued...

Author's Note: So this is my first venture into the land of story writing, and I’ve decided to take a bash at the more sordid side of things. I’ll be the first to admit this story is a little contrived, and I definitely struggled to get the thoughts in my head onto this here computer screen. I’m fairly confident I’ll improve though, given time.... plenty of time. Anyway, I hope you at least sort of enjoy this.