The Adjunct's Office
written by:
NoSayQuien

I teach at an elite university, in the politics department, but I'm not really an academic. I'm what they call an "adjunct professor." Adjuncts are called in to teach one or two courses a year, for peanut wages. An adjunct's "real job" is always something besides teaching. In my case, I'm a lawyer in a small firm downtown, and that's how I pay my mortgage. That's my "real job."

Because an adjunct's real job is always something other than teaching, adjuncts have no status with the regular faculty members, who uniformly look down on them. Adjuncts don't publish. They don't get foundation grants to write a book. In fact, no adjunct, however well informed or well educated, is likely to have written any books at all, and thus the "real" faculty feels no need to pay them any attention. Basically, the regular faculty ignore you, if they even know you teach at all.

As you can see, this "adjunct" arrangement basically sucks. It offers low pay and no status. I keep doing it, though, for two different reasons. First, I actually do enjoy teaching college students about law and politics, and so even though I don't get much money, I do get some "psychic income." Second, as an adjunct, I also get a nice office on campus, which is quite beautiful. That office is where I can meet with students (or with anyone else, for that matter).

My wife knows that I always wanted to be a college professor, so my willingness to teach as an adjunct professor, for next-to-nothing wages, seems natural to her. She thinks I'm doing it just for the love of teaching, and that's not completely untrue. As I have said, I really do like teaching college students about politics and law. My second reason for continuing to teach as an adjunct, however, is directly related to the fact that I have been assigned that very nicely appointed office. It's private, and it includes a big and extremely comfortable couch, upholstered in real leather, that I had installed there after my first quarter of teaching. My wife, by the way, has never been to my office, and she has no clue about the couch.

The courses I teach are all upper division, and so the students who are enrolled are virtually all seniors. They are young, to be sure, but they are almost all officially adults, and they usually graduate within a quarter or two of passing my course. Faculty members can't fuck their students (not without violating all the applicable rules and regulations, that is), but after those students have graduated, and are no longer actually your "students," any contacts you may have with them are just between the two of you.

You are probably beginning to get the idea why I like my position as an adjunct, and why I like that adjunct's office!

Take yesterday, as an example. Now, this doesn't happen every day, by any means, but yesterday afternoon I met with one of my former students, and within minutes of her entry into my office she was sitting back on that leather couch, with her feet tucked up on the seat, and her legs spread, and my face was under her tented skirt, totally buried in her very wet, very sweet-smelling pussy. This was a student I had taught two years ago, and she was one of my best students. She was smart, but she was also very shy in class. I was totally smitten with her, and I guess she knew it, though I swear, I never did anything even the least bit inappropriate during the time she was my student. That said, just about all I could think about, whenever I saw her during that Spring Quarter, was how great it would be to fuck her; how much I wanted her! I even lost track of my lecture a couple of times; I remember that. I hoped that no one noticed, but I guess she did.

Two days ago, I got an email from Angie. That's the student I'm talking about. Would she be able to stop by and see me in my office? She was coming back to campus to get a transcript, she said, and since I was her "favorite professor" she would love to touch base.

I actually had a conflict, but I pretended that the time she asked about was perfect. Then, I called up my clients, with whom I had scheduled a meeting on the site of their proposed building project, and said I'd have to change the time. The clients weren't particularly pleased, but then the engineer and the architect for this project were rather paunchy, 50‑year-old men, so there wasn't much inducement to spend the afternoon with them, as opposed to spending it with Angie, a slim Asian woman with tiny, bud-like breasts that I fantasized were incredibly sensitive.

I didn't know what would happen when Angie came to visit, but just thinking about what might happen was making my prick go rigid. On the phone with the clients, but with my mind on Angie, I stroked my dripping cock, which I had slipped out of my pants, and which was just oozing precum.

The appointed time was 2:30 in the afternoon, and by 2:40, with no Angie, I figured I was out of luck. Oh, no! Not to worry. Lady Luck was definitely on my side! At 2:45, I heard a tap at the door, and in came Angie, carrying a gold-colored statue that looked something like an Oscar. "It's for you," she said, as she handed it to me. On the base was engraved, "World Class Teacher!"

"Oh my gosh, Angie," I said. "How nice! I really am overwhelmed. I should have a statue for you, too. You know you were my best student, don't you? And of course you were my favorite student, too."

Angie said, "really?" She smiled when she asked the question. "I knew you liked me," Angie told me. Do you know how I could tell?"

"How?" I said.

Angie came up right next to me; she was inches away. "I could tell you liked me because I could see you get hard whenever you looked at me, and you know, you looked at me a lot!"

As she was telling me this, Angie reached out with her right hand, and lightly rubbed my cock, where it was straining in my pants.

"Fuck," I said.

"Yes," said Angie. "You know, I bet I seemed pretty shy, didn't I? We Asian girls can seem pretty shy, and maybe some of us really are. In fact, in my case, maybe I was really shy, but I'm not so shy anymore."

While she was saying all this, Angie was continuing to rub my cock, which was already making a wet spot on my slacks.

"You want to know what I've been doing since I left school?"

"What" I asked?

"Well, working of course, but I've been fucking older men. Lots of them, in fact. I do like to fuck, you know, but I'm always thinking of you when I'm fucking them. I have been thinking about fucking you from the first day of your class. I was so turned on by you, and I was always too afraid to even say or do anything. But I knew you wanted me. You do want me, don't you, professor? Don't you still want to fuck me?"

All this was happening while Angie was right in front of me, inches away, and I was just standing there. I had never thought that she would be the aggressive one, and now her hands moved to my belt, and opened it up. She moved the zipper down, and slid her hand inside my briefs, where it moved up and down on my super slick prick.

I did, finally, pull Angie towards me, looking over her shoulder to make sure the door was shut.

"It's locked," she said. "I made sure."

"Mmmmmm." I kissed her mouth, and then her neck as I ran my hands up her sides, and slipped my hands inside her blouse. She got even bolder in her treatment of my prick.

"Professor," she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Eat my fucking pussy, professor. Lick it. Do it with your mouth. Make me cum, professor."

"Oh fuck," I groaned. Angie sat down on the couch, and I pulled off her panties, while my iron-hard prick was sticking out in front of me. Then, Angie put her feet on the couch, and spread her legs open to give me access. So I did just what she demanded.

As my left hand spread her pussy lips, and my tongue teased her very solid clit, I used two fingers of my right hand to search for her G-spot. Angie pulled my head into her, and started bucking my face, fucking my face while she whispered instructions, being quiet so no one in the next office, or in the hall, could hear.

"Lick it, fucker. Suck me off. You're finally getting what you wanted, aren't you? You wanted my pussy every class, didn't you? Do it, fucker! Harder. Make me cum! Make me cum, professor! I'm the one in charge now, aren't I? You're going to suck me till I cum, aren't you? Aren't you, professor? You'd better! You'd better make me do it!! Do it to me, fucker! Fuck your little prize student, professor! Make me cum! Make me cum! I won't let you put your prick in me until you make me cum, professor! Really, professor! Get me off, now!

"NOW! NOW!!"

Angie's juices were smeared all over my face as she continued to rock her pussy forward and back, and as I moved my face up and down across her smooth-shaved cunt, while I pulled her to me by her slim hips. Fuck, it was so good when she came. She started to scream, and I put my hand over her mouth, and she bit me as I stifled the scream that accompanied her orgasm.

After what seemed like ten minutes, with Angie almost comatose from the orgasm she had made me give her, she roused herself enough to look at me and smile.

"You are still really hard," aren't you, professor?" She lay on her side and grabbed my mammoth hard-on. "So fucking hard, professor! It's going to be so fucking good inside my pussy, professor. It's going to be so fucking good!"

I can't even begin to describe just how good it truly was! Angie was very slim, and her pussy was dripping wet, but so tight that I wondered if I was going to be able to get inside, once I started pushing my seven-inch fuck pole up her cunt. But it went right in. SO fucking lovely!!

With Angie lying on my couch, with her blouse open and her skirt pushed up around her waist, I went crazy as I fucked my star student. Former student, I mean. Angie's breasts were so small, just little buds, like I said, but shivers and shudders ran through her as I put the palms of my hands over them and continued to pound her pussy. I feel sort of proud that I didn't just erupt immediately. In fact, it maybe she knew some trick. I thought that I'd blow my wad almost instantaneously, I was so turned on, but it was like I couldn't stop fucking. My rigid prick reamed her for twenty minutes or more, as Angie kept telling me to make her cum, to fuck her harder.

Finally, as I saw Angie's face change, and I knew she was going to have another orgasm, she pulled her face up to my ear and told me, "Now you can do it, professor. Cum in my hot little pussy. Fill me up, fucker! Do it for me. Come on!"

I could feel my prick about to erupt when Angie stuck her finger up my butt. That did it, and Angie came, too. FUCKKKKK!

"I love it, professor! I love it," Angie told me. Fuck! I loved it, too.

Teaching politics and law to the students in my classes at the university is actually quite rewarding. I do like it. However, and it bears repeating, the pay is shit. And the lack of respect you get from the "real" faculty members is pretty shitty, too. In fact, there is a lot not to like about being an adjunct professor.

But.... then there's that adjunct's office. I gave you just one example, telling you about that time with Angie, but I think you get the idea.

I've already signed up for next Quarter.