Must Be Something Wrong with Me - Chapters 1 - 4

A fetish occurs when there is a preoccupation with a particular part of the body or object, relying substantially on that object for sexual arousal, quite often to the detriment of a true or full relationship with another person. This is the story of a girl with a fetish. All of the characters in this story were at least 18 at the time of their actions.


Emily Kay was one of Dr. Lowenstein's latest patients. She was an underclassman, a junior, nineteen years old, in her second year at Templeton College, and she had finally decided to do something about it; her problem; her secret problem.

Dr. Lowenstein spent the initial part of their first session gathering basic history, and then asked why Emily had come for treatment. She had already read the intake and so actually knew but, frankly, what Emily had written in the intake form didn't really sound like a problem. "I like boys," she said to Dr. Lowenstein, wringing her hands, keeping her eyes focused on the floor as she confessed her deep, dark secret.

Dr. Lowenstein furrowed her brow. She had female patients confess that they liked girls, but never a girl confessing that she liked boys. She even felt that the problem for girls who liked girls was their insecurity over their natural predilection, and not really a problem, at least in the way the patient felt. In any case, she attempted to reassure Emily. "Emily, I hardly think that's a significant problem. Actually, not a problem at all." It was at times amazing how neurotic and insecure college girls could be. "It's perfectly normal for a girl to like boys."

"No, Dr. Lowenstein, I mean, I really like them; like I really, really like them."

Dr. Lowenstein had to smile. She was reminded of being in high school, when one girl tells another that she doesn't just like someone, she really, really likes him. "Emily, still, that isn't really a problem. It's perfectly fine to really, really like someone."

Emily could see that Dr. Lowenstein wasn't getting it. "Well, I mean, like, it's not like the guy I like, it's just a certain part of him."

Dr. Lowenstein again furrowed her brow. She would have to admit that she was lost. "I don't understand, Emily. What do you mean?"

Emily could feel her lips and mouth getting dry. This often happened when she had to do oral presentations in class. Her mouth would get all dry and she could hardly speak. She needed a drink of water, or something to suck on to generate some saliva. She knew what that should be, or at least would be, in her case. But, in this instance all that was available was a glass of water. She took a sip, gathering enough courage to explain.

"It's not that I like boys, doctor. I mean, I do. But, what I really like most is, well, their, you know."

Dr. Lowenstein was a sex therapist. She was not a particularly experienced one, but what she lacked in experience she made up for in creative ingenuity. She did in fact have a pretty successful practice, due in part perhaps to being the only one in town, on a campus bursting with young men and women, many of whom, not surprisingly, do have sexual problems. In any case, one of the most important components of effective treatment is to help the patient articulate his or her concern, to speak openly and comfortably about the problem. "I believe I do, Emily." Actually, she still wasn't at all sure, but by saying she did, Emily could now feel that the worst of her confession was over, as the therapist does already know what she was trying to confess. "But, I want you to say it for yourself. It's important that you say it yourself."

She knew the doctor was right. But, she felt like such a pervert. Who wants to admit she is a pervert? What would her parents say? "You won't tell my parents, will you?"

This was a not uncommon concern among her college student patients. They were all above the age of 18. That alone made the therapy confidential. But, their parents were paying for their college education. They had access to their children's academic records. It was understandable for the students to think that they might also have access to their clinic records. They didn't, but it was an understandable concern.

"Emily, if they were to call, I wouldn't even acknowledge that I am seeing you in treatment, let alone tell them anything that you might say in the privacy of these sessions."

That was good to hear. Her parents would have a cow if they knew what she was about to say. "Yes, well, what I really like, about boys, what I really like." Her voice then got a lot quieter. "Their penises. I really like their penises."

There, she had said it. Her face became beet red, but she also felt considerable relief to have finally confessed.

Dr. Lowenstein, though, was still confused. "Well, dear, any normal heterosexual girl likes boys' penises."

It was Emily's turn to furrow her brow. The doctor was still not getting it. Weren't psychologists suppose to be empathic? "No, no, it's not just that. Well, that is it, actually. It's just that it's just that."


"It's just their penises. I'm not sure that I really care much for the rest of them. I mean, I do like the rest of them, but it's just that I really, really like their penises. I like them a lot, an awful lot." And, once she got it off her chest, it seemed like she couldn't stop talking about it. "I mean, they're so handsome, so masculine, so manly. And, they come in so many shapes and sizes. Some are like really, really big. Have you ever seen a really big one, Dr. Lowenstein?" Before she could answer, even if she had wanted to, Emily continued. "I mean, like, they can even be scary sometimes, when they're really big. But, then, I also like the small ones too. I mean, like, they're really cute when they're small, and you want to help them build themselves up, at least their confidence. The small ones are at times so insecure." The doctor was beginning to understand her problem. She was now talking about the penises as if they were persons. "You sometimes have to be really patient with them. They'll sometimes just curl up and hide, like they're afraid to come out and play, and so you have to coax them without making them feel like they actually needed any help. But, eventually, they do respond, and then they stand up so straight and tall, showing off their muscles. They're muscles aren't at all big, but you can still see how proud they are of them."

"Yes, well, um."

"And, some are like perfectly straight, you know, but some are even curved, like, really curved. I was real surprised when I saw the first one like that. I was thinking, like, wondering, if they straightened out when they got inside."

The doctor knew she would have to ask the patient how many she had seen, but she was feeling a bit worried about the answer. Well, that wasn't a problem right now because she couldn't even get a question in.

"And, some are like really thin, others are like really thick. Doctor, do you think boys who are fat have little ones? That's what it seems to me, but, you know, it's not like I have checked all of them, but, you know, I have seen quite a few, a lot actually. One time I checked every single one at a party. That wasn't easy, cause I didn't want, like, any of the girls to know I was checking out their dates or anything. It wasn't like some sort of group thing, you know, although I suppose that would be pretty cool, just thinking about that makes me dizzy, imagine being in a room full of naked hard penises, just full of them. I like them all. Well, that's not actually true. I must admit that there is one, one kind, that I don't really like."

Emily finally stopped talking. There was a moment of silence. It was weird. She at first had trouble admitting to the fact that she really liked penises, now she was having trouble admitting to the fact that there was a kind she didn't like. But, that was understandable. It would seem rather prejudicial for her to actually dislike one. It wasn't like she was herself a perfect beauty queen. She had her own flaws. Her obsession with penises was perhaps a rather big one.

But, she had to be honest, particularly when speaking to a therapist. She said quietly, "I don't like hairy ones."

Dr. Lowenstein was finding it difficult to find the words. This was rather unusual for a

therapist, particularly Dr. Lowenstein, but she hadn't had a patient quite like this before.

Emily added, "You must think I'm a terrible person."

Any good psychologist knows how to respond to that. "No, no, not at all, Emily. You are a lovely person. At the core of every self is someone who is good and wonderful."

Emily did appreciate Dr. Lowenstein's emotional support, but she still felt bad about her prejudice. What if a guy felt the same way about her titties? She did not have particularly large breasts. In fact, they were on the small side, a very small side. How would she feel if a guy told her that he found her unattractive once he saw how small she was?

"I mean, doctor," she continued, "it isn't like I've ever told a guy I didn't like him because he had hair on his penis. It's just that I don't really like it very much. I like them to be smooth as silk, at least when they get hard. I really like them when they're hard. Don't you?"

Dr. Lowenstein knew that it was best for the therapist to remain a blank screen, never revealing anything about yourself, particularly when it came to one's preferences regarding penises. One can deflect a direct question by reflecting back to the patient what she just said. "You like them best when they're hard."

"Oh my, yes. I mean, well, I do like them when they're soft as well. Some of them are really quite cute when they're small. They're all cuddled up, like little sleeping boys. The ones with a foreskin are even curled up in their soft, thick comforters."

Dr. Lowenstein could appreciate the image, but she kept her appreciation to herself.

"And, then, I come along, and they naturally wake up. They're always so excited to see me." She again spoke as if she was interacting with just the penis. "They wake up from their naps and sometimes leap to attention before I even touch them. It's so much fun to see them grow and swell, just getting bigger and bigger and bigger, rising up to their most ever biggest possible size." She breathed a deep sigh, just thinking about it made her feel happy and pleased.

Dr. Lowenstein could appreciate that image as well. "Yes, well, um, well, Emily, yes, it is nice to see that but, again, how has this been a problem for your?" Emily was lying on the doctor's couch. It was a rather peculiar couch. It had no back to it. You couldn't lean back in it. It actually looked more like a bed, a single bed, but unlike a bed it rose up a bit at the head, for the head. But, rather than a pillow, there was just this delicate white cloth, like a hankie. In any case, Dr. Lowenstein was sitting in a straight back chair, just behind and to the left of the head of the couch. She leaned forward and placed her hand on Emily's shoulder in her most reassuring, comforting manner. "Dear, please, tell me what's troubling you."

Emily thought that she had, but perhaps she could be a bit clearer. She looked back toward the doctor, although she couldn't actually see her unless she got up from the couch, or turned over. "Doctor, it's just that I'm actually so much more interested in the penis than the man to which he's attached. Frankly, I don't really care to whom it's attached." She hesitated a moment. "Actually, that's not true. To whom it's attached is sometimes really important. I mean, haven't you wondered what kind of a penis, a hard cock, a cop has? Or a professor? Or a doctor? A therapist? A student? A patient?" Emily realized that she had perhaps gone too far with those suggestions, but she was making a compelling point. "But, you know, in the end, it's still his penis that interests me. Just his penis."

Dr. Lowenstein did consider that she might be right, that a tentative, working diagnosis could indeed be a fetish. A fetish occurs when there is a preoccupation with a particular part of the body or object, relying on that object for sexual arousal, quite often to the detriment of a true or full relationship with the person. That did indeed appear to be the case in this case. It was an unusual fetish, but a fetish nonetheless. Perhaps even one that could be the subject of a case study. Dr. Lowenstein was always looking for a good case study. "That's interesting, Emily, tell me more."

"Well, like for instance, the other day, I played with one during class, Dr. Lowenstein, I mean, like right during class where everyone could have seen me and I could have gotten into such terrible trouble." Emily then proceeded to recount the experience. Dr. Lowenstein took careful notes.




It was during the laboratory exercises of Biology 450, with Mr. Gould. Emily hadn't wanted to take this class from Mr. Gould. She wanted to take it instead from Miss Harding. It wasn't that she particularly liked Miss Harding. It's just that Miss Harding tends to have lots more penises in her classes. Emily could understand why. Miss Harding was a really attractive professor, with quite prominent breasts and shapely legs, which she displayed well in her short, tight skirts. Emily even heard rumors that Miss Harding occasionally did things with her students (see Miss Harding teaches the boys a lesson or The Chess Club, Chapter 9 of The Lessons) but they were probably just that, rumors.

Still, there were quite a number of boys in Mr. Gould's class, and Mr. Gould did, of course, have a penis himself, perhaps a very good one. Emily always made sure to give a special cheerful hello when she arrived in class. Her mother had emphasized how important it was to be courteous to your teachers. A little sugar can go a long way, and when it came down to the final grade, the memory of a kind word or a pretty smile might be the deciding factor if she was right on the cusp between an A or a B.

Today they were in the laboratory room, dissecting frogs. It was disgusting. There was no pleasant, nice way to describe it. It was just simply disgusting, and Emily didn't want to have anything to do with it. Most of the class time was spent in a lecture room, which simply required listening and taking notes. Emily hated the laboratory component. She had no interest in actually touching some slimy frog.

Fortunately for her, she was paired with Joseph Jamerson. Mr. Gould always rotated the laboratory pairings, as he didn't want to give any special advantage to a student, and it was clear that if you were paired with Joseph you had an advantage. Joseph was the brightest student in the class. He was a biology major and wanted someday to be a doctor.

Emily knew that she wouldn't have to do much work with Joseph as her laboratory partner. He didn't even seem to expect anything from her. He just dove into the task himself.

"I'm so lucky to be paired with you, Joey. You're so good at this stuff."

"Yea," he succinctly replied.

"If you want me to help, you know, I will."

"Yea, sure."

"Although, I don't know how much help I could be. I'm really not very good at it."

"That's okay." Joseph was frankly glad that she wasn't trying to help. He found that it only just slowed him up when his lab partner wanted to participate. At best, he would lose time as he had to explain things. At worst, he would have to redo steps that his partner botched. He preferred a partner who didn't want to do anything, and he knew darn well that Emily would botch things up if she did try to help. "I'll just do it. You can watch."

Emily smiled with gratitude and relief. That was very sweet of Joey, although she didn't actually really want to watch. It was almost as disgusting to watch him dissect the frog as it was to do it yourself.

She looked around the room. Everybody appeared to be pretty intent on their tasks. Mr. Gould was circling among the laboratory tables. Each pair of students had their own laboratory table. The tables weren't particularly big, but beneath each were cabinets in which equipment and material were stored. Emily and Joseph were at the cabinets at the back right corner of the room, which she now realized provided her, them, with considerable privacy.

"You know, Joey, I could help you in one way."

"Excuse me?" He wasn't really listening to her. He didn't want to listen to her, as it was rather distracting.

"I mean, I'm not really good at dissecting frogs or anything, but there are some things I can do." She rested her right hand lightly on his forearm, trying to give him a sign, a suggestion, of what kind of help that might be.

"I can do this okay, don't worry about it."

"I don't mean helping you with that," she said, as she slid her finger lightly up and down his forearm.

"Sure, sure, whatever you want," he replied. She could do anything she wanted as far as he was concerned, as long as she stopped distracting him with her finger on his arm.

Emily smiled. She knew it wasn't right not to be doing anything for the assignment. She should do something to help out. She looked around to be sure that nobody would notice. She then turned slightly toward Joseph, hiding his lower body from the sight of the next lab table over, to the left of them, and then reached out with her left hand to lightly place it on the crotch of his slacks.

"What?!" Joseph exclaimed, in surprise and shock, jerking his hip away from her hand, although being careful not to make a slip with his scalpel. He might in fact make a pretty good surgeon someday, as he just demonstrated that even if a pretty nurse touched his crotch during an operation, the patient would not have been harmed.

A few of the students looked over at them at the sound of Joseph's voice. They figured that he must have just gotten a little excited about the task. It was amazing how Joseph found biology so interesting.

Joseph lowered his voice to a whisper. "What are you doing, Emily?"

She replied in a sincerely plaintive manner, "I was just trying to help, Joey."

"Help? Help, how?"

"I was giving you 'positive reinforcement,'" she replied, smiling proudly at her success in using one of the concepts they had learned in class. "Every time you do something right, I will give you a little happy squeeze. Don't you think that would be fun?"

It would certainly be fun. He had to admit that.

She pressed her argument, as she pressed her soft little bosom into his shoulder. "You deserve something for doing all the work yourself."

Joseph breathed in the lovely scent of the girl, which confused and startled him all the more. Templeton girls weren't allowed to wear perfume. Emily knew this, but there was an understandable element of risk when hunting penises. Perfume was at times necessary, particularly to bag the big ones. If she was caught wearing perfume she would be willing to pay the price. She considered it be analogous to a fisherman paying a fine for using illegal bait.

"I bet none of the other girls you've helped have given you anything in return."

That was very true, and that did at times bother him. On the one hand, he didn't mind doing all of the work, as anytime his partner tried to help it often just messed things up. But, it wasn't right that they got all that class credit for doing nothing, when he in fact did do all the work.

Emily could see his resolve wavering. She returned her fingers to his crotch. Boys were often much more cooperative, more compliant, when they felt her fingers on their penises.

This time he didn't back away. He squirmed a bit, but he didn't object, at least not strongly. He whispered, "Emily, somebody will see you, will see, us."

Emily smiled. She knew that she had him now. She whispered back. "Nobody will see anything, trust me. The only ones who could are Frank Harden and Jeffrey, and if I keep myself turned toward you, like this, they can't see anything, and besides, they're much too interested in their own frog."




Joseph leaned back and looked over at Frank and Jeffrey. She was right about that. Frank and Jeffrey were engrossed in the assignment. When it came to interest and dedication to biology, they were a close second to him. Actually, not really that close, but still close enough. And, besides, the feel of a girl's touch, her fingers, lightly exploring around and around the front of his slacks, was awfully, awfully enticing.

Joseph was really confused. One week ago he probably would not have even considered this. Any girl who wanted to play with his penis during a class must be psychotic. And besides, they could get into big trouble. The last thing he would want to do would be to fail biology. Was it really worth the pleasure of the feel of her touch, down there? But, after the experience in the library (see Five Steps to Delta Nu), his perspective on the subject had significantly changed.

College was turning out to be much more confusing than he had imagined. First, this pretty girl gives him a hand job in the library for no good reason at all (he still has her pink panties), and now, the equally attractive Emily Kay is going to feel him up in biology lab? He never considered himself to be a lady's man. Well, that was an understatement, to say the least. He didn't even date. But, still, two girls in one week? Maybe he wasn't so unattractive after all.

"Well, be careful," he replied, looking around the room to check again that nobody was indeed looking at them.

Emily whispered back, "Now, don't you worry about a thing, Joey. While you take care of that thing, I will take care of your thing." She more forcefully explored the front of his slacks, trying to find the telltale bulge.

Joseph blushed with the feel of Emily's fingers probing his trousers. He was glad he wore boxers. The loose black slacks required by the Templeton school dress code helped as well, and it didn't take long for his swelling erection to become evident to Emily.

"Oooooh, Joey, I think you must have a pretty big one in there," she whispered.

Joseph blushed. He never thought of himself as being at all big, but this was now the second girl to say so.

Emily could feel that he probably wasn't that big, but what is to be gained by telling him that? It was better to be nice than to be honest. And, besides, she knew by experience that a proud penis was a happy penis.

She could at least feel it growing in his slacks. She looked around the room, double checking to be sure that they weren't being noticed. It was kind of fun to realize that while all of these students were busily studying their frogs, she was playing with a boy's stiffie, unbeknownst to them. And Joseph's stiffening penis was clearly a lot more lively than a dead frog, and it was getting harder and harder, eventually pushing out his slacks quite a bit.

She pulled her hand away to see the result of her handiwork. It was always so cute, so sexy, to see a boy's pants jutting out, his excitement over seeing her, or feeling her, or being felt by her, so evident, so strong, so powerful that it just couldn't be hidden. Joey's though did look a little awkward, as it was sticking down his pant leg rather than sticking up. She whispered, "Goodness, Joey, you've got quite the boner there." Emily liked using words like 'boner,' 'stiffie,' and 'woodie.' She considered them cute and fun. It made the experience all the more playful. Guys seemed to like it as well, or at least none of them had ever complained.

Joseph was a bit embarrassed about it. It was nice, tremendously nice, to be having Emily admiring him like that, but he did feel a little exposed, like he was being caught having an erection, his secret revealed. He pressed his body against the cabinet to hide it from view.

"No, no, Joseph, don't do that. I think he looks real sexy. It's like you're showing off your muscles to me."

Well, when she put it that way he didn't really mind. He pulled back from the cabinet.

"But, isn't he a little uncomfortable like that, pointing down?" Emily was experienced enough with guys; actually, very experienced, that she knew it was indeed an uncomfortable position for an erection, sticking down into his right pant leg rather than sticking up.

"It's okay, Emily," Joseph softly replied, although if he was being honest he would have to agree.

"No, no, no, Joseph, it must be terribly uncomfortable like that, bent down, being forced down like that." She reached back over and firmly grasped the end of it, as best she could through his boxers and slacks. "Here, let me move it so it's sticking up straight. He'll be much happier that way."

Joseph squirmed a bit as Emily used her left hand to try to alter the placement of his cock. It wasn't easy as she couldn't get a firm grip on it, and it was rather caught or snagged by his boxers.

"I'll do it," Joseph suggested, putting down the scalpel to reach down with his hand.

Before he could even reach down Emily lightly slapped his wrist. "No, no, no, Joey, that's woman's work. And, besides, you have to keep working on your nasty ole frog. Let me take care of this problem." Emily wanted to facilitate Joseph's dissection, not interfere with it. She reached for his zipper and, before he could stop her, quickly pulled it down.

"Oh my gosh!" gasped Joseph.

"Shhh," Emily shushed. "Somebody is going to notice us."

That was precisely what he was worried about, although this wouldn't be the first time that his zipper was down in a class. He was always so preoccupied with some science problem or class assignment that he would at times forget to zip himself up after he used a lavatory, much to his embarrassment when some girls started pointing and giggling. But, this would be considerably worse, as this would be a downed zipper with a raised cock.

He again let go of the scalpel to reach down, this time to pull up his zipper, but Emily kept pushing his hand away. "Joey," she scolded. "We'll never get the assignment done if you don't get back to work and, besides, if someone looks now they're certainly going to wonder what we're fighting over down there, now won't they."

It was a compelling argument.

"Now, you just get back to work. The sooner you let me in there, the sooner I can get out."

Joseph's heart was pounding, with both nervous and excited tension. He was terribly, terribly worried that they might indeed get caught. The experience in the library had ended both well and bad, the bad part getting caught and having to run out in panic and humiliation. For the rest of the week he wondered if and when he would get a knock on the door by campus security, wondering if he had an explanation for exposing himself in the library.

There would be likewise no compelling explanation for Emily's hand inside his pants. He tried to keep still as she fumbled around inside. Still, though, his heart was also pounding with the excitement of feeling a girl feeling around inside his trousers, trying to find, trying to reach and get a good grip on his erection. A part of him wouldn't mind if she in fact stayed inside there.

Emily was not really fumbling around. She was duly experienced with pulling out a boy's pistol from his pants. She could probably beat most any girl on the draw. She just pretended to fumble so she could linger there for awhile. She could tell that he liked it and that it also made him real nervous. She enjoyed both of his reactions.

"I'm glad you're wearing boxers, Joey," she said, as she finally found the vertical flap and slid her hand inside. "I knew you would be a boxer man," she added, as the tips of her fingers contacted the naked skin of his hard cock. "They're so much more manly than briefs," she explained, as her fingers wrapped around his shaft, and slowly, carefully, maneuvered his stiff dick so that it was pointing up.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief when she got him up straight, but he was also now breathing rather quickly and having a bit of difficulty concentrating on his dissection. Maybe he wouldn't be such a good surgeon after all? Still, not too many surgeons conduct an operation with a girl's hand gripping their hard cock in their scrubs.

Emily didn't immediately remove her hand from his boxers. Once she had her hand on his hard shaft, feeling his nakedness within her fingers, the smooth, stiff, hairless shaft, she didn't really want to let go. She had captured another one, and she was not about to turn him loose until she at least she enjoyed the spoils of her victory. She softly, slowly, moved her fingers up and down the pole.

"Emily," Joseph whispered, although it wasn't really clear whether he was speaking in protest or pleasure. This was terribly, terribly risky but, even more so, terribly, terribly stimulation. What boy can really resist the feel of a girl's hand in his pants, on his stiff cock? What boy in his right mind would refuse her this pleasure?

Emily whispered, "Do you like that, Joey?"

"Yes," he softly replied, although his eyes were beginning to have difficulty focusing. His hands were not quite so steady.

"I like it too. I really like touching a boy's penis."

If she kept this up much longer.

"And, yours feels so good in my hand, so stiff, so strong, so powerful," she said, as she stroked her fist up and down the shaft. "But, it's kind of hard to get a good feel of it inside there." Before he could protest, she demonstrated her true experience in such matters, firmly gasping hold of his cock and popping it out of his slacks in one smooth, fluid motion.

"Oh my gosh!" Joseph exclaimed. His stiff cock was now sticking straight out of his slacks! Completely naked and exposed, just jutting right out there in the middle of biology! Imagine if someone saw him now? How could he possibly explain this? How could anyone? Exposing your naked hard-on in the class was certainly much worse than just having your zipper down. This time he did let go of his tools and reached down to cover himself.

Imagine Mr. Gould catching him with his cock out, and then it's naturally discovered that he was also the boy exposing himself in the library. He at first thought it was kind of cool to have two girls do this for him in one week, now it actually seemed pretty bad.

"No, no," Emily protested. "Don't do that. I want to see him."

"Are you crazy, Emily?" He was wondering if his initial presumption was correct, that a girl who wanted to do this to him was a little off her rocker.

Emily did indeed wonder about that. At this point in time, she was actually seriously thinking about seeing a therapist, and she did eventually seek the help of Dr. Lowenstein. But, right now was not the time to consider it, to question it. She knew what she wanted. "Just let me have a little peek? Won't you please, Joey? It doesn't have to be for very long."

Joseph was now truly ambivalent. He was right on the fence. Up until that point it was essentially just titillation. But, exposing yourself in a classroom, exposing a naked hard-on? That might really be over the line. Yet, he had never met a girl like Emily before. Actually, he just did the prior week. But, still, girls like this don't come around very often. Perhaps fortunately so, or he would probably be in big trouble by now. But, maybe at least just this one more time? They were certainly in a very safe place. If nobody could see her hand playing with him, then how could anyone see his stiff dick? He whispered to Emily, "Just a little bit. Not long at all, or we could get in an awful lot of trouble." He slowly, reluctantly, but willingly, withdrew his hands from his cock, and got back to dissecting the frog, his eyes glancing around, checking to see if anyone was looking.

Emily was very pleased. "Oh my gosh, Joseph, it's wonderful."

Joseph could feel himself stiffening harder with the compliment.

"It's so tall, and stiff, and so manly." She reached over again with her left hand and grasped hold of it.

Joseph gasped, but focused his eyes on the dissection. He wanted to look down, to see his cock being held by this sweet, feminine hand, by this girl who seemed to love it so much, but he had to remain focused on his task, his assignment. Good grades always come first, although perhaps his dick will literally cum first this time.

"The skin is so smooth," just the way she liked it. She slid her hand up and down his shaft. "I wish I had a penis like this."

That was a rather odd remark, he thought. But, Emily explained herself. "I don't mean, like on me, on my body. That would be kind of silly. I just wish I had one like this to play with, any time of the day, whenever I felt like it. Wouldn't that be nice? Anytime you wanted it, you could just reach into your pocket and pull out a big hard penis." Perhaps it did sound kind of weird, but Joseph was thinking that it would be nice to have a couple of really large boobs to play whenever he had the hankering. He could think of quite times he would have enjoyed that. "I love playing with a boy's big, hard cock," she exclaimed, as she fondly, affectionately, stroked him.

Joseph's eyes glazed over and he leaned forward, bending over as he could feel himself getting ready to explode, wondering though if he should even try to control himself.

"Okay, then, Joseph, Emily, how are the two of you doing?"

It was Mr. Gould! While Joseph was losing himself in the pleasure of Emily's hand, yet also concentrating so hard on his dissection, Mr. Gould had approached.

Emily quickly let go of Joseph's cock, but moved up closer to him, ostensibly to make room for Mr. Gould to observe their progress; their progress on the dissection. Joseph's face turned a deep red as he pressed his body, his pelvis, his cock, up against the cabinet beneath the table top, trying desperately to hide himself. "Yes sir, yes sir, yes, we're doing fine sir," he quickly stammered.

"Excellent, kids, excellent." Mr. Gould moved past them, from behind, and got over to the right side of the table, around the corner from Joseph. "Yes, yes, you always do a wonderful job, Joseph, and," he turned his attention to Emily. "I hope you're participating as well, Emily." He knew the score. He knew that Joseph's partners often road on his back.

"Oh yes, Mr. Gould, I'm providing a very helpful hand."

"I'm sure you are, dear. I'm sure you are." Mr. Gould, though, could see that Joseph had not made as much progress as one would have expected from his star student. "Joseph, don't you think you should be using the eight-point scalpel, rather than this six-point?"

"Oh, sir, perhaps, yes, of course. I'm sure you're right."

"Here, just step back and I'll get you one out of the cabinet."

"Oh! Uh, no sir, no, that's fine, this one is fine." Joseph could feel his heart racing, no pounding, and sweat was rapidly forming on his brow, dripping down his sides beneath his shirt. There was simply no way he could, he would, step back from the cabinet. He pressed his body against the cabinet with even more force, more fervor, perhaps in doing so he could meld his body with the wood, and would then be unable to step back. He felt the same panic he had in the library, when Mrs. Baxter approached him and that strange girl. How often does something like this happen to a guy!

Mr. Gould was surprised at his resistance. Joseph was generally a very agreeable, even acquiescent student.

"Well, Joseph, I would normally endorse your judgment in this regard, but I am bit concerned with your progress to this point."

Joseph didn't know what to say. How could he defy the professor? But, how could he move aside?

Emily came to his rescue. "I'm sorry, Mr. Gould. I asked Joseph to use the six-point. I'd never used it before and he said he would show it to me. I mean, show me how to use it."

Well, that is understandable. "Yes, well, Joseph is certainly skilled with any tool. I'm sure he could help you learn how to best handle it. Why don't you let her take hold of it, Joseph. The best way to learn is to do it yourself."

"Oh golly, Mr. Gould, I don't know. I mean, well, I would be kind of nervous with you watching and everything. I get a little self-conscious using it with a teacher looking and all."

That was also understandable. "Well, yes, alright then, but don't fall too far behind, Joseph. You don't want to have to stay after class to finish it up."

"Oh yes sir," Emily answered for him. "I'll make sure Joseph finishes up real fast."

"Well, don't rush it though. You want to do a good job."

"Oh, no sir, I agree, Mr. Gould. I want to do a real good job. I mean, we both do, of course."

"Yes, well, I'll leave you to it then." Mr. Gould moved on to the table in front of them, his back now turned to the two mischievous students.

"Man that was close," Joseph whispered, his heart returning to a normal rate of speed, his body relaxing, and moving away somewhat from the cabinet.

"Wasn't that exciting?" Emily asked, as she instantly slid her hand back onto Joseph's cock, which was now only half mast.

"I think maybe a bit too exciting."

"Oh, don't say that, Joey."

"C'mon, we've got to finish it up before he comes back."

She replied, "I agree, you need to cum before he comes," as she resumed stroking his cock.


"Well, Joey," she retorted in her most coquettish voice, "I did promise Professor Gould that I would you finish you up real fast," her experienced hand bringing him quickly back to full staff. "Don't you want a happy ending?"

He certainly did and, one thing was for certain, he probably would be best off if he did just let her get him off as quick as possible. He bent back over the frog, in case Mr. Gould, or anyone else, looked back at them. But, there was one quite serious problem. "Yea but, Emily, we, I, can't do that here. You know."

"No, what Joseph?"

He turned to her and gave her his most incredulous expression. "You know!"

As she twirled her fingers around and around the swollen bulb of his cock, she gave him in return her most innocent expression and said, "No, Joseph, I don't know what you mean?"

Joseph sighed with frustration, in part because he knew that there was really little time left to discuss this. He was not one for lasting long, particularly as this was the only second hand of a girl to handle his cock. The pleasure she was providing was just so good, dancing and twirling around his hard dick. A girl's fingers feel so wonderful on one's cock, and this one was also so clearly better at it than the library girl. He whispered, albeit forcefully, expressing his impatience, "I mean, I'm going to, um, I would, uh." He lowered his voice even further, "ejaculate, and that's going to, you know."

"Joey, I didn't hear you? What did you say? What would you do?" She heard him quite well. She just wanted to tease him a bit.

He leaned into her, drawing in more deeply the scent of her perfume, and whispered into her ear. "Ejaculation."

She feigned shock and surprise. "Oh my goodness, Joey, would you really squirt all over the place?" She drew her fingers away from the bulb of his cock to reach down further, below, and lightly tickle his balls. "Oh my, it does feel like you have lots and lots of sticky, nasty boy juice. I bet you would just gush and spurt over and over and over, wouldn't you Joey."

Her fingers were so nice. "Please, Emily, please stop or I will."

"Do you think you could squirt so hard that you would hit Julie's hair?"

Julie was the girl in the lab table in front of them. She was one of the prettier girls in the class. It would be rather nice to cum on her hair. She was always so pleased with herself, her looks, and she was so often dismissive of him, the twerpy bookworm, she would say. It would serve her right, shooting a big fat glob right in that carefully, managed coiffure. Joseph could feel his balls tightening up, building up pressure for the cannon ball. There was no way though that he actually, really, wanted to do that. Cumming on Julie's hair was clearly much worse than simply exposing an erection. He clenched his eyes shut to try to stop himself from cumming, trying to block out the image from his mind, but being unable to ignore the lovely feel of her hand.




"Oh don't be so worried, silly. I won't let you do that. Here, let me show you." Emily stepped back and opened up the cabinet door. It actually provided very nice cover for his erection. Joseph wished she had thought about that before. Emily had realized that they could use the cabinet door to hide him, but she preferred the greater risk of just using her own body. In any case, she slid around it and said in a more normal, although somewhat louder voice, "Here, Joey, you keep working on the dissection and I'll see if I can find the eight incher."

He didn't correct her, but he did look down at her. She was squatting down behind the opened door, looking up at him, past his hard stiff cock now towering over her pretty face. She smiled, her large hazel eyes twinkling with flirtation, and said, "I think this one must be the eight-incher, don't you think, Joey?"

Joseph's hard cock was well short of eight inches, but there was no way he was going to divest her of that illusion. Perhaps it looked to her like eight inches, squatting down beneath it, her eyes, her lips, just inches away. She whispered up to him, very softly, "Would you like me to kiss it, Joey? I'll do it, if you want me to."

Joseph tore his eyes away to glance around the room. They really couldn't let this go much longer. If she put her lips on his cock there was no way he would last any longer. No girl had ever done that for him before. Not even the girl in the library. He could feel himself wanting to cum just at the thought of it. Her lips, her tongue, would feel so good on his cock. Wouldn't they? He turned back to her. "Yes, yes," he whispered back, "please, please do it."

She smiled up at him. "Oh Joey, I'm so glad. I love the taste of a boy's cum, and I want yours so very, very badly." She leaned forward, grasped the shaft in her hand, and planted a big kiss on the tip of his cock.

Joseph again turned away, this time so that he wouldn't just cum right away, before she even got her lips around him. He wanted to cum so bad, and the sight of those pretty little girlish lips kissing his cock was just too much, too much to bear. He turned his face toward the frog, but closed his eyes, clenched them shut with the intense pleasure that was overtaking him.

Emily turned her eyes to the swollen red bulb, smiling at the thought of what she was about to do. She did indeed love sucking on a boy's hard cock. There was perhaps nothing else that gave her more pleasure. And, now, once again, she had conquered another one. The cock of the star student was about to enter her mouth, and even right during the class. She sucked it into her mouth like a most delicious popsicle.

"Hmmmmmm," she softly groaned as she felt his swollen rod on her tongue and tasted his manliness. She stroked his shaft as well as she sucked and licked at the bulb, urging him to release his juice, his tasty manly juice, into her mouth.

As soon as he felt her tongue hit the underside of his cock, his most sensitive place, he felt himself become overwhelmed by his climax, surging up from his balls, through his shaft, and out his cock, accompanied by a primal wave of pleasure sweeping through his entire body, his legs going weak, as his cock began to gush its load into the sweet, lovely girl's mouth. "Emily, Emily," he whispered, not even loud enough for her to hear, as he felt his cock jerk and spit into her mouth.

Emily was lost in her own pleasure. She could feel the juices leaking from her slit, soiling her panties, as the boy's cock soiled her mouth, filling her mouth with the salty, tasty globs of gism. He tasted so good. She had come to learn that not all cum tastes the same, but all cum tasted good to her. This boy's cum though tasted better than most. She would have to ask him later what he had for lunch.

Joseph could feel his legs weaken and he struggled not to reveal his secret. His body was already somewhat twisted with his cock facing Emily and his torso facing the frog, and as he twitched and jerked with his spurting, his cock suddenly popped from her mouth, squirting the last few spurts onto Emily's rosy red cheeks.

"Joseph!" Emily exclaimed, a bit too loudly.

Mr. Gould said, "Yes, well, how is it going now?" He had returned, this time approaching from the front.

Joseph looked up in fright, and exhaustion, and exclaimed, "Mr. Gould!"

Emily quickly stuffed Joseph's cock back into his pants and zipped him, coughing as she did so, partly to hide the sound of the zipping and partly because she did indeed have to cough as she struggled to swallow Joey's cum.

"Yes sir, yes sir, well, it's going fine sir." He had in fact made next to no progress since the last time Mr. Gould was there.

Fortunately, Emily's experience with men's boxers and zippers allowed her to get him tucked back safely away fairly quickly. She then reached into the cabinet, pulled out a scalpel and stood back up. "I found it, Joey!" she exclaimed, looking quite gleefully proud, holding up the scalpel like it was a prize.

"Oh, Mr. Gould, I didn't hear you come. Hello sir. I went and got the six-point, cause we really weren't making any progress with the eight-point, just like you said."

"Yes, well." Mr. Gould was feeling a bit suspicious. Something didn't seem quite right here. And, then, he noticed a couple of white splats of fluid on Emily's face. "Emily, what is that on your face?"

Emily reached up and felt a little glob of cum on her cheek. "Oh Joey! Joey!" she exclaimed in disgusted protest. "You squirted some of the stuff right on my face. Professor Gould, look, some of his stuff squirted on me and it's all icky and everything. I don't like it."

Joseph could feel his heart sink down to his feet. He couldn't belief it. Why would this girl do something like that? She was indeed some crazy bitch, and he had fallen right into it. "Mr. Gould, please, let me explain," he beseeched.

But, Emily interrupted him, before he confessed. "I was trying to find the eight-pointer and Joseph squeezed on the frog and some of his internal guts stuff just squirted right off the table. Eeeewww, Mr. Gould, I don't even like to think what it might be!" She squinched up her face and shivered in disgust.

Mr. Gould shook his head and smiled at the girl's squeamishness. Some girls just can't stand this part of the class, although, he would have to admit, he wouldn't really like to have frog guts on his face either. He attempted to reassure her. "Now, now, honey, it won't hurt you. Here, let me wipe it off for you."

"Oh, thank you sir, thank you so much." She turned her face to Joseph and gave him a mock scowl as Mr. Gould brought out his handkerchief to clean off the girl's face.




"We were terribly lucky not to get caught, don't you think, Dr. Lowenstein?"

"Heh?" Dr. Lowenstein was a bit lost in her thoughts. She looked down at her notepad and noticed that her last note was, 'He must have a pretty big one in there.' She quickly though gathered herself and said, "Yes, well, you were, Emily. You really could have gotten into quite serious trouble. I can see why you are so concerned. I think perhaps we do have some things to work on."

"Yes, I know, doctor, I know. Cause, you know, that wasn't really the half of it."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, Mr. Gould asked me to stay after class."

"What happened next?' Dr. Lowenstein leaned forward. She was very, very interested.

"Oh doctor, my time is up. I need to get to my next class."

"Oh yes, yes." How curious. Normally she would have to remind the patient that the session was over, but in this case it was she who had lost track of time. She considered having Emily come back tomorrow. There did appear to be a lot to discuss, or at least she was very curious about what happened with Mr. Gould. But it was best not to rush exploratory therapy. A week off might be good, for the both of them. Sometimes sessions can be quite stressful, or at least stimulating, for the doctor, as well as for the patient.




Emily arrived right on time for her next session. This time she wasn't so reluctant to tell her story. They were difficult stories to tell, but she did feel so much better after the last session. She did really want to get these experiences off her chest, and it was quite helpful to talk about them with a professional. She was so glad that she had decided to see Dr. Lowenstein.

Dr. Lowenstein as well found Emily's stories to be quite interesting and intriguing. In fact, she wondered if the entire series of experiences might make for a good case study. She could certainly imagine readers being as interested in Emily's encounters as she was herself. As a matter of fact, perhaps the entire series might warrant a book! "Yes, Emily, well, you ended last session recounting your experience with Joseph, and you indicated that you had to stay after class with Mr. Gould?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Tell me, what happened next?"

"Well, doctor, like I said, Mr. Gould asked me to stay after class."

"Excuse me, Emily, would you mind if I taped this session? It's so much easier than taking notes and I really don't want to miss anything."

"No, no, ma'am, that's perfectly fine with me. But, this is all confidential, isn't it? I mean, you told me that my parents wouldn't find out, but I think it's also kind of important if nobody else does as well."

"Absolutely, my dear," Dr. Lowenstein. If she did in fact publish the case study, she would get Emily's permission to do so, and would thoroughly disguise her identity so that nobody would be able to identify her as the patient.

"I mean, cause, well, it could also get Mr. Gould in a bit of trouble."

That sounded very intriguing. Dr. Lowenstein was quite familiar with Mr. Gould. Mr. Peters has been very supportive of her methods of treatment, but Mr. Gould has expressed considerable skepticism, even raising an objection with Dean Jackson, which annoyed Dr. Lowenstein to no end, as Mr. Gould was not himself a clinician. But, he was a member of the faculty senate and did have considerable authority over the activities of other members of the Templeton family, including even the activities of the college clinic. Dr. Lowenstein had no intention of using any of the information she gleaned from Emily against Mr. Gould, but she had to admit that she was a bit curious. "Nobody in this college has access to your file, Emily, other than the staff of the clinic. My clinic director, Dr. Fritz Perlman, has access, but he is, as well, sworn to protect your confidentiality, and the confidentiality of any information that is contained within your file."

Emily wasn't listening that closely. Perhaps she should have been, but that was part of her problem. She was wondering what Dr. Perlman's penis would look like, when it was all hard. She had never seen a psychologist's erection before.


"Oh yes, doctor, yes, no, it's fine, you can record this."

"Excellent," replied Dr. Lowenstein. She reached over to the coffee table and turned on her recorder. This way she could listen more closely herself.

Emily then proceeded to recall her experience with Mr. Gould, the biology professor.




Emily approached his desk and stood before it, her hands clasped before her, her eyes looking down at her feet, appearing ever so much the penitent, remorseful young lady.

Mr. Gould was sitting behind his desk, tapping his pencil in annoyed frustration. "Emily, I wanted to speak with you for a bit because I'm not so sure I was being given the full story during class."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gould, what do you mean?"

"Now don't play the innocent girl with me, Emily. The fluid I cleaned from your cheeks did not appear to me to come from a frog."

Emily covered her opened mouth with her hand, her eyes widening as well, as if she just heard something that was terribly shocking, even horrifying. "Oh, Mr. Gould, what are you saying?"

"Emily, if you prefer, I can hand this matter over to Mr. Peters. I understand he is quite knowledgeable about how to extract confessions and discipline miscreant students."

Emily wasn't particularly interested in seeing Mr. Peters. She knew his methods, only too well. But, it wasn't that she was especially afraid about being spanked, and perhaps even having to do more with Mr. Peters, it's just that she had already been there and done that. Mr. Peters' penis no longer interested her. "Oh please, sir, don't send me to Mr. Peters. I really don't want to do that."

Mr. Gould was pleased with the effect of his threat. "Yes, well then, why don't you tell me what really happened in class."

"Golly, Mr. Gould, it's kind of embarrassing and everything."

"Will it be any less embarrassing to tell Mr. Peters?" It actually wouldn't be embarrassing at all, but it would be much less fun.

"If I tell you, you won't tell my parents, will you, Mr. Gould?"

He had no interest in doing that. Templeton College preferred to handle such delicate matters informally, if that was at all possible. Public investigations often become quite adversarial, generating more controversy than they resolved, as well as bringing unhelpful and detrimental publicity to the college. And, besides, misbehavior of a student in a class, particularly if it was what he was thinking, would look poorly on him as well. But, if the threat of doing so did make Emily squirm a bit, then perhaps it's best not to reassure her completely. "Well, I might be willing to keep it within this room, if I feel you are being forthright with me."

Emily knew that once she was through with him, he would want to keep it within the room. He would be asking her to keep it a secret. "Oh I will, sir, I will tell you everything, if you want."

Mr. Gould gave Emily his most authoritative, stern expression and said, "Yes, well, I'm waiting, young lady."

Emily continued to feign ambivalence and reluctance, shifting her feet, swinging her bottom, looking around the room to be sure that they were alone.

"I guess perhaps you might be more interested in explaining yourself if your parents were here?"

"Oh my!" she exclaimed. "Yes, alright then, okay, but, Mr. Gould, if I could, might I just whisper it into your ear. It's really terribly embarrassing to have to say it out loud and everything."

Well, that was certainly a reasonable request. He had no real interest in embarrassing the young lady. "Alright then, if you must." He pushed his chair back from the desk to give her some room.

Emily moved around the desk to get up beside him. She then leaned down, bracing herself by placing her left hand on his thigh.

Mr. Gould found that to be a bit personal. It wasn't really appropriate to have direct physical contact with a student. Patting a student on the back is fine, shaking a hand is fine, and perhaps at times even a hug. But, a hand on a thigh did seem like it might be crossing a line. However, acknowledging that point with Emily might just be raising a red flag, causing a problem, creating a concern, when there never really needed to be one. It was a natural thing to do to brace yourself when leaning over to whisper into someone's ear. But, with such close proximity he was now also treated to the lovely scent of her perfume, and the students of Templeton were not to wear perfume.

Emily leaned in close and brought her lips to his ear. She then confessed, recounted, her experience with Joseph, being sure to include all of the relevant, revealing, titillating details, including how she could see and feel his penis getting bigger and bigger in his slacks, how she pulled his zipper down without his knowing it, how she reached inside to adjust the position of his big, hard, stiff penis.

This description was making Mr. Gould feel a bit uncomfortable, emotionally and physically, as he could feel his own penis stirring in his pants as the pretty, scented young lady whispered into his ear about how she played with Joseph's stiffly erect penis, how wonderful it looked, how big and hard and shiny and smooth it was. "Yes, well, Emily, you don't have to tell me every specific detail."

Emily stood back up straight. "Oh, but Mr. Gould, you told me to be completely forthright, to leave nothing out. I want to be sure that I tell you everything, that you know every detail. I want to be a good girl."

He had told her to tell him everything. He could hardly back off now and say that it wasn't really necessary. That would only let her know that he was simply bluffing. "Yes, well, alright then, proceed."

Emily moved in even closer to finish her story. She cupped her hands together, around his ear, to whisper even more quietly, more privately, as if there were in fact people in the room who could hear, and in doing so, was now pressing one of her sweet titties against his shoulder. She recounted how she used her lips, her mouth, her tongue on him, how much she enjoyed the feel of the large purple swollen head of his cock in her mouth, how big it felt there, how much she liked the earthy smell of his cock, the taste of his cock slit, and how much she wanted to make him cum, wanted to feel and taste him as he squirted his sticky boy cum into her mouth, gushing into her little girl mouth his thick gruel, and how wonderful he did indeed taste, this very young and innocent mouth that was whispering into his ear, how she so very much enjoyed the taste of a man's cum, his gism, his cream, his gloppy, globby, gluey, gunky, gooey gruel.

When she was done with her story she stood back up straight, looking ever so proud that she had been such a good girl, telling him every little detail, confessing to everything. She was also quite proud to see that it had the effect on him that she had been hoping. Mr. Gould now had a boner.

Mr. Gould was at first a bit lost for words. He crossed his legs and clasped his hands in his lap. He had no interest in having this girl see that her story had in fact excited him a bit. He felt a bit guilty about that, but certainly it was understandable. How often do you have a cute little girl whisper in your ear a dirty story about how much she enjoyed drinking a boy's cum? "Yes, well, I'm afraid that the two of you will need to be punished for what you did, don't you think, young lady?"

"Oh yes sir, definitely sir. It was a very naughty thing to do. But, sir, please don't punish Joey. It was really all my fault. In fact, he kept telling me to stop, but I just kept going." She leaned over toward him again, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other on his thigh, offering her most plaintive, pleading expression. "It really, truly wasn't his fault Mr. Gould, honest. I would just feel so terribly terrible if he got into any trouble for what I did."

It was difficult to deny her entreatment. How many fathers can deny the beseeching eyes of their daughters, and what professor could really deny the appeal of this young, pretty girl, her lovely scent wafting across his nostrils, her large, pretty, hazel eyes begging for consideration. And, besides, he knew full well that Joseph was indeed a very good, upstanding boy, and would never do anything untoward within his class without considerable pressure. "Well, alright, yes, I will consider the matter closed with respect to Joseph."

Emily's lips stretched into a big grin as she exclaimed, "Oh Mr. Gould! I'm so grateful." She leaned all the way down to him and promptly planted a big kiss on his cheek, his eyes widening in surprise at the sudden physical expression of gratitude. He wasn't expecting this much appreciation. A polite 'thank-you' would have been sufficient.

Emily even followed up the kiss with a big, tight hug, pressing her young, soft, supple breasts into Mr. Gould's shoulder. "Oh, you're such a wonderful professor, Mr. Gould. I'm ever so happy," squeezing herself against him ever so tightly.




"Yes, yes, well, uh, yes," he replied, feeling very uncomfortable with this degree of contact, particularly as he was still sporting a rather taut erection. He brought his hands from his lap, risking its exposure, to gently and politely, but firmly, push her away. "But, dear, that does still leave the problem of yourself. You do have to answer for your indiscretion. Actually, I must say it was much, much worse than simply an indiscretion, don't you think?"

Emily stepped back and, once again, clasped her hands together, her head bowed contritely. "Oh yes sir, that was a most terrible thing I did. I know sir, I really know," and this was frankly said with some degree of sincerity. She was troubled over her many indiscretions. And, goodness, the one act with Joseph paled in comparison to some of her other oral stunts. "I really do think I might have a problem, sir."

"A problem?"

"Yes sir."

"I don't understand."

"It's kind of difficult to explain, Mr. Gould."

"Well, honey, I don't mean to have you feeling uncomfortable, but if you don't provide an explanation, then I have no choice but to have you referred to the disciplinary board."

Emily knew that she would indeed be in serious trouble if she was referred to Mr. Harrington and the Student Disciplinary Board. She seriously doubted that she could sway Mr. Harrington. However, it was never her intention not to explain herself to Mr. Gould. "Can I at least whisper it again, in your ear?"

"There's really nobody here that will hear you, Emily, other than me."

"I know sir, but to say it out loud is so difficult for me."

Mr. Gould sighed. Her previous whispering had been a bit problematic. However, he could see that she was quite sincere in her discomfort. "Alright then, if you wish."

She replied, "Thank you, sir," and then, once again, leaned back into him, cupped her hands, and whispered into his ear, ever so softly, "It's penises, Mr. Gould."

"Excuse me?"

She continued to whisper. "Penises, Mr. Gould, I love them so much. I just can't help myself. I have to see them, feel them." And, even more softly, "Kiss them." She paused for a moment, letting her breath tickle his ear, and then pulled back.

Mr. Gould could feel the sweat forming on his brow as his mouth went dry. "Emily, I really can't believe that you're unable to control yourself."

"But it is really very difficult, Mr. Gould. Whenever I meet a guy I start to think, to wonder, what his penis might look like. You know, they're all so very different, particularly when they get stiff and hard and everything. Of course, you might not know that, being a man and everything."

"Yes, well, of course, there are many anatomical variations." He was finding this conversation rather uncomfortable.

"Of course sir, I didn't meant to imply that you wouldn't know. Of course you would know, being a biologist and everything. You've probably seen many, many different penises."

"Well, not really, it's not actually, uh, my specialty." He wasn't really sure it would be anyone's.

"Oh my, goodness, I just had a wonderful idea, Mr. Gould! Maybe I could do an independent study, under you of course, about how penises come in all different sizes and shapes. I mean, if you sponsored me I'm sure we could get lots and lots of penises, and we could even compare their stuff, you know, their, their, their ejaculate stuff, like with a microscope and things."

"Well, dear, I don't think."

"I like them best that way, all terribly hard and stiff. I think that's when they have the most personality. I would think that you, more than anyone, would understand."

"Yes, well, um, you are certainly free to pursue your own hobbies, um, studies, outside of class." He really didn't think it would be a good idea but, of course, he wouldn't want to discourage the young lady's scientific curiosity. He then realized though they were getting off track. "But, still, you do clearly appreciate how inappropriate it was to do it in the class."

"Oh absolutely, sir."

"I mean, I don't go around dissecting every frog I see, and you really shouldn't try to see every, um." It was kind of difficult for him to say the word out loud. After all, she was a very fetching young lady, standing there in her college uniform, her innocent white blouse, black tie, plaid skirt, white socks, and Mary Janes, smiling so sweetly as she swung her hips back and forth. He lowered his voice to a whisper, now appreciating her own concern about speaking out loud, "penis, um, yes, penis, that you come across."

"I know, sir. I do know that, but sometimes I just can't help myself. Like, well, you know, I would kind of like to see yours, if you wouldn't mind, sir."

"Mine?!" Mr. Gould's eyes widened with shock.

Emily voice was very quiet and cautious. "Well, yes sir. I mean, after all, you do have an erection yourself. I could see it when I was whispering in your ear."

Mr. Gould tightened the crossing of his legs and dug his hands down deeper into his lap, into his stiffness. He would obviously like for it to go down, and covering it snugly with his hands wasn't really helping. "Now, that's not in fact the case, young lady. I suspect you were confused by something else. Yes, a pen, a pen in my pocket."

"Mr. Gould, what I saw was much thicker than a pen."

"Well, yes, um, in any case, you were, of course, obviously mistaken. I would not let, do, such a thing in the presence of an undergraduate."

"Who isn't being honest now, Mr. Gould?"

Mr. Gould was feeling a bit hoisted on his own petard, which was still sticking up in his slacks. He knew that he would get nowhere with this young lady as long as she knew he was being dishonest with her. You can't command respect and compliance if it is clear that you are yourself being duplicitous and dissembling. With considerable reluctance, Mr. Gould confessed. "Yes, alright, yes my dear. I am sorry, but I did, for the moment, lose control of myself there."

"I understand, Professor Gould. Sometimes it really isn't easy controlling yourself, is it, sir." He could see that she was painting him into a corner. In any case, he knew that it was terribly inappropriate of him to have gotten an erection and, even worse, to have let her see it. Here he was, trying to discipline a student for being sexually inappropriate in the class, and then he displays to her his own erection.

"Well, I do certainly apologize, Emily. It was really most inappropriate of me."

Emily stepped up to him, her knees touching his thighs. "Don't worry, sir, I won't tell anyone."

Mr. Gould could sense that he was losing ground here, losing control not only of himself but of the situation. Yet, it was quite true that he definitely wouldn't want anyone else to know that he had gotten an erection with a student and, worse yet, that she had seen it. "Yes, well, I suppose it's best for everyone if we just put this afternoon behind us, move on from here, and be now especially careful that nothing like this happens again. Would you not agree, Emily?"

"Oh but sir, you haven't really let me see it yet."

"Emily, I am certainly not going to do that. We have both made our share of mistakes here." He would consider hers to be far worse than his, but perhaps in the eyes of the Board of Trustees, his might in fact be much worse, for as a professor he would be held to a much higher standard. "Let's not compound the situation."

Emily though just reached down, grasped the front of her skirt, and raised it up to show Mr. Gould her pretty panties, and they were very pretty indeed. They were pink cotton panties with lace trim, and prancing all over the pink cotton were little dancing bears. If that wasn't enough, her panties were tight enough to display a very clear, very pronounced, camel toe. Mr. Gould's erection had finally been slackening, with all the thoughts of the inappropriateness of the situation and his getting into a very embarrassing and problematic predicament. However, his dick now sprang back to life at the sight of the young girl's panties and the delicious outline of her slit. It looked to be a very cute, small little pouch. "Emily, please, pull your skirt back down right this instant!"

He said it with considerable conviction, sincerity, and authority, but she didn't obey. She instead just slowly, gently swung her hips back and forth, keeping her skirt raised and panties exposed, and said, "But, professor, don't you like my panties?"

He clearly did, as he could not take his eyes off them, although he did briefly do so, checking that the door to his classroom was indeed shut. However, he did not express how much he liked them. "They are very nice panties, Emily but, really, this is most inappropriate and someone may come in. Now, please, pull your skirt back down."

"I'll pull them down if you take out your penis, Mr. Gould."

"Emily, that's absurd and you know it! I don't want to, and will not, do anything inappropriate with you. I want to be very clear about that."

"I'm not asking you to do anything with me, Mr. Gould. Just let me see him, just at least for a second? I'm showing you my personal spot. It's only fair now that you show me yours." She pulled her skirt back tight all the way up so she could see herself and, while keeping it firmly pressed against her with her left hand she brought the fingers of her right hand to the little pouch of pink panty that rose out from between her thighs. "See, Mr. Gould, you can even see my little pussy lips through my panties." She looked back up at him as she lightly caressed her lips through her panties.

His face was now a deep red, both with excitement and embarrassment. He could feel as well the blood flowing into his balls, a surge of energy, of interest, of lustful preparation. He really wasn't sure what he should do, or could do. Of course, what he should do would be to just take her by the arm and escort her from the class, but he wasn't too sure he was in a position to risk her becoming angry and filing a complaint. The complaint of a young female student would always carry more weight than that of a male faculty member, particularly if he was honest about having gotten an erection. "Yes, yes, I do see that but, really, Emily, you really shouldn't be doing this."

"Is he getting all hard and everything, Mr. Gould, looking at my panties?"

There was no way he was going to answer that. Actually, there was one way to answer, without having to say anything. He realized that the best way, perhaps the safest way, to get out of this situation was to do what she wanted. When you're being threatened it's sometimes best not to fight. Just let her have what she wants and end this affair before it got out of hand. He uncrossed his legs and pulled away his hands, resting them on the arms of the chair, displaying to her, for her, a very obvious, prominent protrusion within his slacks.

"Oh, Mr. Gould, he is excited, isn't he!"

He didn't know how long she wanted to look at him, but he had to admit that a very significant part of him was enjoying this, enjoying the fact that this very pretty young lady, younger than his own daughter, holding up her plaid skirt to show him her pink camel toe, was herself enjoying the sight of the erection within his slacks. He hadn't experienced anything like this for quite some time, perhaps nothing since he was in fact younger than Emily.

Emily let go of her skirt. Mr. Gould felt both relieved and disappointed. "Excellent, well, let's now call this a day, and we will speak no more of it."

But, Emily then bent forward, her lovely, flushed face moving toward his erection. He couldn't help but think that she might be actually leaning down to kiss him, to kiss him there. He quickly covered himself up again, protecting his penis from this very naughty girl.

Emily kept her eyes fixed on his confused, nervous, excited eyes; her eyes expressing a yearning desire, a lust, for his cock. She softly, slowly ran her tongue along her lips.

And, while she was doing so, while his eyes were firmly fixed on hers, she reached back under her skirt, grasped the hem of her panties, and pulled them down past her bottom cheeks, down to her thighs, albeit still under her skirt. She then stood back up.

Mr. Gould breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that she had only been just teasing him into thinking that she was actually going to kiss him, down there. However, with the relief also came a brief moment of disappointment. His ex-wife would never do that for him, had never done that for him. She considered it disgusting. Imagine having it done now by a pretty girl, one who was less than half his age! But, that was rather unrealistic. It was a nice fantasy, but just a fantasy. When he thought about it, Emily was perhaps demonstrating more control than him, as he probably would have let her go through with it. He misunderstood why she bent over like that and he hadn't tried to stop her. He was perhaps the one with the wicked, perverse fantasies. Thank goodness this girl was demonstrating the good judgment that he apparently had lost, at least for a moment.

Emily again reached down for the hem of her skirt, and once again pulled it up, this time revealing that her panties were now bunched up around her thighs and, more importantly, revealing to the professor's eyes the most deliciously sweet cunnie he had ever seen. "Oh my gosh," he quietly exclaimed, unable to restrain from acknowledging the pure delight of the vision. Emily had the most winsome cunnie one could imagine. It was a preciously pretty pussy, just a tiny little white pouch split by a tender, enchanting slit of pure delight, covered by only the most gossamer down of wispy peach fuzz. His cock was yearning, straining to escape his slacks to attack this rapturous crevice.

His eyes again went to the classroom door, but only for the most briefest of moments. His eyes really, really didn't want to look away from the treat that displayed herself before them.

"Do you think it's pretty, Mr. Gould?"

He responded quietly, but very honestly. "It's wonderful, Emily." Pretty much all resistance was now gone. He was now governed by the vision of her cunnie, by the cunnie itself. He would do anything it requested, anything it commanded.

A triumphant grin graced her other lips. "Can I see yours?"

It was only fair. His heart was pounding, sweat was dripping down beneath his arms. "Lock the door, Emily," he suggested.

"Anything you say, Professor Gould." She turned around, and raised the skirt behind her, offering him the sight of her adorably pert behind. Mr. Gould was not a butt man, but he could appreciate the sight of a youthful, taut, firm white fanny, split as well by yet another scrumptious, mouth-watering crack.

Emily slowly walked to the door, wagging her bottom as she went. Her steps were somewhat constrained by her panties, wrapped around her thighs, but she exaggerated the constriction, walking like a well-trained geisha. It was such a captivating spectacle.

As she made her way to the door, Mr. Gould removed his cock from his slacks. By the time she had locked the door and turned around, his hard cock was out and fully displayed, poking out through his fly like a jack-in-the-box.

"Oh my, Mr. Gould," Emily exclaimed. "I kind of thought a professor would be big, but I didn't imagine this big."

Mr. Gould grinned. No woman had ever referred to him as being big before. He kind of doubted that he was, but he really wouldn't know. Perhaps he was? It sure appeared that Emily was pretty darn experienced in matters such as this. She was probably speaking with some authority.

It seemed to swell even further as she made her way back, holding up now the front of her skirt as she approached. He could never imagine meeting a girl so tantalizing, so fetching, so enchanting. Her little split peach cunnie slowly approached. He reached for his cock, grasping hold. He wondered if he could convince her to masturbate together. That would perhaps be a bit obscene, but his balls were aching for relief.

"Now, now, Mr. Gould, that's my responsibility. You sit back and let Emily take care of your big, manly cock."

Even in his current state of mind, his state of arousal, he knew that this would be wrong, very terribly wrong. "Emily, we can't have sex, we just can't." It was frankly remarkable to even be saying that. He would never have imagined, at his age, that he would be saying no to a pretty girl half his age, while she was standing there, holding up her skirt.

"Mr. Gould, don't be silly. We're not going to have sex. I know that wouldn't be right and, besides, I don't think I could take a big penis like that." She knew full well she could, but she wasn't actually interested in taking him that way. She preferred using her hands and mouth on a guy. That was how she liked to do it. It was the way that provided her with the greatest intimacy with his cock. She wanted to see it up close, feel it up close, and taste it up close.

Mr. Gould wasn't sure he was in fact relieved to hear that they wouldn't have sex, although he knew that tomorrow he would probably feel relieved. In fact, he wondered if tomorrow he would feel guilty, feel worried, no matter what they did, no matter how little it was. "I'm not so sure, Emily, that we really should be doing anything at all. We should perhaps stop before things get out of hand," as if they already hadn't.

Emily had thought that she had him entirely under her control, but it was clear that at the threshold of victory, he was hesitating, wavering, losing his nerve. She offered, "I will make a deal with you, Mr. Gould."

He wasn't too sure that he liked the sound of that. He realized that he was not really in a negotiating position, as he would be the one to suffer the most severe loss and punishment if their little 'show and tell' became public. What defense does a professor have when he has his cock sticking out of his pants? He asked, apprehensively, "What kind of deal?"

"If you let me play with your thing, I won't ever do it again with anyone in the class."

That was the deal? He was certainly expecting a lot worse than that. At best he figured she would demand an A grade (although he would now give it to her anyway; how could you not give a girl an A in biology after she shows you her delightfully pretty cunnie?). Frankly, this was a rather sweet deal for him, and, truth be told, it would help to control her behavior in class. Perhaps it would be the best thing, the only thing, to help her maintain proper decorum. "Yes, yes, you have a deal."

"But, if sometime I feel the urge, you know, with another boy during the class, you have to promise to let me use your thing instead, like after class."

Like any good car salesman, he pretended that he felt very reluctant to accept the clause, as if it was a major sacrifice on his part, when in fact it was a very satisfying addition to the contract. "Well, I suppose I can accept that, if you feel it's absolutely necessary."

Emily let go of her skirt and dropped down to her knees, in between the knees of the professor, and reached up to grasp hold of his stiff dick.

Emily found that most cocks looked big, or at least bigger, when kneeling down beneath them, looking up at them as they towered over your face, your eyes. She really liked looking at them this way. She turned it all sorts of different ways, admiring its girth, its strength, its manliness. "I really like men's penises best, Mr. Gould."

"Excuse me?"

"He looks so much bigger, so much more manly, than the students' penises I date. I mean, well, of course, they're men too. They're like at least 18 and everything, but they seem like boys to me, compared to such a manly cock like yours. It's almost like they're still growing or something." Clearly they were not. Professor Gould didn't really have to explain that to her. It was probably the context of the experience, the fact that the students' penises were cocks on men with little power, little status, little responsibility, experience or age. They were cocks still playing with their toys, still horsing around like kids. The cock before her was that of a real man, a man of considerable authority and power.