Date: Mon, 17 Feb 2014 16:54:33 -0500
From: Lewd Shrewd <lewdandshrewd@gmail.com>
Subject: The Chemistry Professor -- Chapter 8

Disclaimer: This is a work of gay, erotic fiction; please do not read if it
is illegal for you to do so.  This work is entirely fictional; any
resemblances to real people, events, or institutions are coincidental.

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-Lewdandshrewd

Chapter 8

The second half of my freshman year of college was fantastic.  With my
light course-load, blossoming social and sexual life, and good grades, I
was on Cloud Nine.  Most of the parties I attended didn't end up with
orgies, of course, but those few that did happen certainly added to my
enjoyment of the year.

Toward the end of the semester, I began to focus again on my studies; none
of my courses were terribly challenging, but I knew that my soccer
scholarship was contingent on excellent grades, and I wanted to make sure
that I kept a good GPA.  That's why I emailed Professor Edward Rathburne,
my linear algebra teacher, for some help.  I had a pretty good grasp on
most of the course material, but I was having trouble determining
orthonormal bases, and the textbook was beyond obscure.

"Dear Professor Rathburne -- In reviewing for the final exam, I'm having
some trouble with orthonormality and the Gram-Schmidt process.  Could we
set up a time to go over that material in the next couple of days?  My
class schedule is pretty cramped during the days, but Tuesdays and
Thursdays I have time in the morning, or if you're around over the weekend,
I am very flexible.  Thank you!  -- Rob"

Professor Rathburne was a stereotypical math professor, though younger than
most of the rest of the department.  He was tall, skinny, wore dark,
thick-lensed glasses, and had a terrible sense of style.  He was a good
instructor, though, and I'd come to appreciate his clear explanations of
complicated math.  I'd never really thought about him outside the context
of class, though, so was a bit nervous to meet with him personally in his
office.

He responded quickly, and -- not unusually for professors at my university
-- Professor Rathburne said he was planning to be in his office much of the
day on Saturday, so we agreed that I'd meet him there at 4:30 that day.

On Friday afternoon, the day before my meeting with Professor Rathburne, I
was working out in the university gym with several of my soccer teammates.
I was running on the treadmill between Damian and Ryan -- two teammates I'd
had the pleasure of playing with at a couple of drunk parties, though we
never spoke of those debaucherous nights -- when Professor Rathburne walked
in the main entrance, wearing his hideous combination of baggy, striped
gray pants, a bright green plaid short-sleeve button-down, and a hideous
magenta tie.

Ryan nodded toward the entrance.  "Is that Ed Rathburne from the math
department?  What is he WEARING?!"  My teammates and I chuckled, but gave
Professor Rathburne no more thought as he went to the locker room to change
into workout clothes.  I'd seen him once or twice in the gym before; it was
pretty common for faculty members to use the gym, as it was the
best-equipped athletic facility in the area.

Damian, Ryan, and I finished our run and moved to the weight room to finish
our work-out for the day.  I noticed Professor Rathburne at the rowing
machine, sweating profusely and paying no attention to his surroundings,
absorbed in his workout.  He was wearing mesh athletic shorts and a baggy
white T-shirt -- much more appropriate attire than the get-up he'd been
wearing when he came in.  For some reason, my eyes kept drifting back to
the professor, as he rhythmically rowed; I didn't notice anything that
should've kept my eyes on him, but I caught Ryan and Damian glancing in his
direction too.

As we began our cool-down stretches, I figured it out.  Our new position on
the stretching mat by the wall gave us a new angle to view Professor
Rathburne on the rowing machine.  Outlined by his mesh shorts, stiff
against the inside of his right leg, was the thin professor's truly massive
cock.  He must have been wearing boxer-briefs, or I certainly would've
noticed the impressive bulge earlier.  I was mesmerized; I had never seen
such an impressive dick, and Damian's was pretty huge.  My stare must have
caught Professor Rathburne's eye, because he gave me a goofy grin and a
wave; he looked almost like he was oblivious of the throbbing cock between
his legs.  I waved back, hoping I hadn't been obvious.  Clearing my head
with a quick drink of water, my teammates and I headed to the locker room
to shower and change.

"Did you fucking see that?"  Damian whispered as the three of us walked
into the locker room.  "Not that I look, but that guy's PACKING."

"Of COURSE I saw it; how could you NOT see it?!" Ryan replied under his
breath, "And it looked like he didn't even know it was there!"

"Jesus Christ, he's bigger than you, Damian," I said, just as quietly.  I
was taking my sweet time getting my towel and clothes out of my locker; I
hoped my own boner would calm down before I stripped for the shower.  It
didn't help that Ryan and Damian were both nearly naked, and trying to
conceal their own semi-erect dicks behind their towels.

Looking embarrassed, my two teammates headed quickly for the shower, giving
me room to undress without worrying about hiding my still-swollen cock.
Just as I was standing back up after removing my briefs, who walked into
the bay of lockers but Professor fucking Rathburne!

Before I had a chance to grab my towel and quickly wrap it around myself,
Professor Rathburne was already saying, "We're on for my office tomorrow at
4:30, right, Rob?"  As he spoke, he pulled off his baggy T-shirt, revealing
a beautifully defined, lean torso, glistening with the sweat of his
workout.  His mesh shorts soon followed, and the bulge in his boxer briefs
seemed almost as big soft as it had hard on the rowing machine.  His
underwear promptly followed, revealing a 9" soft cock, big, low-hanging
balls, and an extremely fit, round ass.

"Uhhh, ummm, yeah, uhh, I'll be there," I stammered, forcing myself to turn
around, wrap my towel around myself, and tear my eyes away from the geeky
professor's awe-inspiring privates.

"Good.  The Gram-Schmidt process is really challenging, and I've been
working on a better way to explain it.  I hope it'll come across more
clearly than it did in class."  Professor Rathburne seemed completely
oblivious that I was blushing and averting my eyes, clearly uncomfortable.
Were all geeky academics this oblivious?!

"OK, great; that'll help a lot," I said quickly, hurrying out of the bay of
lockers, toward the showers.  I was relieved that I saw Professor Rathburne
pull on a different pair of underwear and his baggy pants; he wasn't going
to shower there.

I turned the shower on full-blast, hung my towel on a wall hook, and
stepped in, hoping the water would wash away my embarrassment and erection
as effectively as the sweat I was coated with.  After a few minutes, my
cock was still throbbing; I couldn't get the image of Professor Rathburne's
gorgeous package out of my head.  I glanced over my shoulders, hoping
everyone had left the showers so I could quickly jerk off.  Damian had
indeed headed back to the lockers, but Ryan was standing at the other end
of the showers, facing the wall, hand pumping his own dick.

Ryan and I had been teammates for almost a year; he'd fucked and cum on me
at a kegger a few months earlier; and I was high on post-workout hormones
and the image of my teacher's massive cock etched in my mind.  I needed to
get off, and apparently so did Ryan.  I quietly walked across the shower
room, approaching Ryan, whose eyes were closed; his attention was on his
long, thin cock, which he was pumping vigorous with his right hand.

I pressed my hard cock against Ryan's firm ass, reached around to tweak his
left nipple, and whispered in his ear, "That got you going too, huh?"  Ryan
jumped, surprised by my sudden intrusion into his personal reverie.

"Fuck, Rob; yeah, I've never seen a cock like that, and I can't help
myself."  He turned around to face me, eyes showing embarrassment and
horniness at the same time, still stroking his pulsing dick.

I replied, "I hear you, man," and indicated my own erection with a grin,
which was by now at full-mast, its thick 8 inches wet from the showers and
my own precum.  I stroked it slowly a few times, letting Ryan know that he
wasn't the only one intending to get off.

I grabbed Ryan's 7" uncut dick out of his own grasp and leaned down to kiss
him.  As our tongues played, Ryan's cock throbbed in my grip, and I slowly
began sliding the foreskin back and forth over his wet cock-head.  He
moaned with pleasure, and his hands began to rub my wet body, lingering for
a moment on my hard nipples.  Eventually, his hands moved lower, fondling
my balls and teasing my achingly-hard dick.

Finally, after a few minutes of teasing, Ryan broke off our kiss and knelt
on the shower floor.  He slapped my cock against his own face a few times,
gripped it at the base and coaxed a few drops of precum out, which he
eagerly lapped up before taking my big mushroom head in his mouth.  I
hadn't had the pleasure of getting head from Ryan at our kegger orgy; my
cock had mostly been buried in the ass of Bruce, the handsome cub who had
eagerly ridden me that night.  I had missed out -- Ryan was an expert.
After a few preliminary bobs on my cockhead, Ryan dove down, taking my
entire thick 8" into his throat without the slightest difficulty.  I had
had several guys try to deep-throat me before, and I'd learned to cringe at
the attempt; invariably, it just amounted to smashing my cock as hard as
they could against their hard palate.  Not so with Ryan; his throat relaxed
completely as he slid down my shaft, burying his nose in my blond pubes.
It felt almost as good as sliding my cock into a tight, well-lubed
ass... and Ryan responded almost as if he had a prostate at the back of his
throat.  His own cock throbbed with every throat-full and was soon dripping
copious amounts of precum onto the shower floor.

After a couple of minutes of expert deep-throating, Ryan pulled off my cock
to catch his breath and give his own dick a few strokes.  "God damn, dude,
that's the best head I've ever gotten," I smiled down at Ryan.

"Haha, thanks, Rob!  Now fucking feed me your cum; I'm about to shoot."  I
eagerly guided my raging hard cock back to Ryan's lips, and he hungrily
swallowed the whole thing.  On his sixth dive into my pubes, I felt my
orgasm approaching.  Ryan must have sensed it, because he grabbed his own
cock and started rapidly jerking off while my cock grew in his throat.  As
his right hand pumped his cock, he brought his left up between my legs, and
deftly slid two wet fingers into my tight ass.  The pressure on my
prostate, the view of my ripped soccer teammate jacking off, and the wet
mouth and throat squeezing the entire length of my cock put me over the
edge.  My back arched, my ass clenched on Ryan's fingers, I let out a deep
groan, and my cum shot straight down Ryan's waiting throat.  As my third
shot filled his throat, I felt Ryan's own warm cum hit my leg, intensifying
my own pleasure and making my last two spurts feel as good as the first.

Ryan let my slowly softening dick slip out of his mouth and stood up, eyes
watering from the intensity of having a long, thick cock stretch his
throat, and kissed me.  I loved the taste of my own residual semen in his
mouth, and reached down to get some of Ryan's jizz on my fingers; I stuck
my cum-covered fingers between our mouths and we savored our mixed cum as
we slowed our kiss.  Finally, having come down from our post-orgasmic high,
we broke off our kiss and chuckled at each other.

"Well, that's a pretty damn good substitute for that professor's
monster-cock," Ryan said as he grinned at me and started rinsing off in the
still-warm shower.

"I guess we don't need to keep our rendezvous to the keggers, now, huh?" I
asked, toweling myself dry.

"Whenever and wherever, buddy."

That would not be the last time I unloaded down Ryan's expert throat.

But now that my hormones had been appeased, I began to think about my
appointment with Professor Rathburne the next day.  Could I keep my mind on
linear algebra and off the massive dick I knew was hiding inside those
awful, baggy pants?