I fancied my Prof. She was forty-five, tall, manly, handsome with short grey hair and ferociously gay. She knew that I was gay too.“Sadly, I believe...it would.” Her arched eyebrow suggested that my use of the word ‘sadly’ interested her. “Because it is possible that someone would suggest, when I get my incredibly well-earned first-class degree, that it had been awarded because of your interest in me and your consequent help to get me that degree. Were you not open about your sexuality, there. So she walked willingly up to me. I was on the couch, sitting up, she was on her knees on the floor looking up at me. “If you want to see it, you have to unbutton my jeans,” I said.So, Chloe took her small, curious fingers, and moved them upward towards the zipper of my jeans. She nudged on my dick, just a little bit which caused me to fly into a frenzy of excitement. She slowly pulled my zipper down and then moved to the button and unbuttoned them. “Now, pull it down.”She placed her hands. ‘Naughty boy,’ she chided at the finish when my tongue had ‘accidentally’ slipped into her mouth. But she was laughing and I could see the look in her eyes had intensified: she was now thinking about it. I told myself not to rush it, that I needed to say things to coddle her feelings then she’d open those legs for me, if that’s what I wanted. Oh yeah! We went over to table on the terrace and I opened the two pints, and we sipped straight from the bottle like guys do up north. Dad had taught. I needed the sweet release of an orgasm. “Please,” I said weakly, just before I exploded. There was a harsh, raspy noise, maybe a yell, possibly a scream that bounced off the fog and surrounded us. It was a voice from deep within me, although I had no ability at the time to discern that it was me expressing vocal pleasure as my release finally came and cum raced through my cock seeking its destination. I experienced one strong contraction after another as my body was thrown back against the.