New TA

Hey all :) This is my first post and I'm nervous, but I'd love feedback on my story. Be kind, please!

She stood out immediately, of course. It was my first semester as a TA, but I'd been in grad school for a year already and had experienced my fair share of enticing undergrads. But she was different; the impact was instantaneous.

I remember walking into the classroom on the first day, having just given myself a pep talk--something to the tune of: these women are off-limits; don't bother even looking at them. Then I walked into the lecture hall and nearly lost my mind. Momentarily. There I was, dutifully trailing the professor in my best casual-but-professional button-up, and suddenly I locked eyes with a woman who seemed pulled from my fantasies. It was a moment that stretched for an eternity and still didn't last long enough. I had to force my gaze away. I likely stopped in my tracks, tripped, and mumbled out something like: what was that, Professor? He hadn't spoken.

After regaining my composure, I took my place at the end of the first row and managed to appear focused on the lecture. It was drab stuff: reviewing the syllabus and describing expectations for the semester. When I was introduced, I awkwardly leaned forward and waved to the room, trying to look anywhere but at her, yet seeing only those wonderful eyes. I willed her to notice me while doing everything in my power to remain anonymous--though anonymity would hardly last a month.

It was week four of classes when the professor called and asked me to fill in. It was the evening before our next class; he wasn't feeling well and asked if I could step up. I knew this was a possibility--one I had hoped for when agreeing to the position--but that was before her. Since that first day, I had worried that if pressed to teach, I would spend the entire lecture staring mesmerized at her. Surely the students would notice. I could only imagine what the complaints would read. With no choice, I prepared the lecture and did a mental rehearsal of moving my eyes around the room. By this time, I knew a few of the students who had attended my office hours, providing friendly faces on which to focus.

The next day, I paced my little office waiting for class to start. I admonished myself for letting this crush interfere with my professional duties. By this time, every new detail I learned about her fell straight into my fantasies. She was unlike any woman I'd ever been with: highly fashionable, with hypnotic curves and eyes that made me ache.

I was not a typical horny college student; even in my younger years, I was focused on my budding career and was essentially a serial boyfriend. It felt unlike me to be so distracted by a stranger who was expressly off-limits. I told myself all of this while waiting for my moment in the spotlight.

It seemed to help. She was there in her usual spot down front when I entered the room and assumed the lectern. For a micro-moment, she seemed to smile when I explained that I would fill in for the professor. I probably only stumbled on my words once or twice, which could be attributed to being a novice. Anyway, I convinced myself that she hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. Still, I felt relief when the lecture was over and I could slip back into obscurity--ready to end the semester and forget about those eyes, if possible.

Fate had other plans. It turned out the professor's health required more attention than expected. On the day of our first big test, he announced that he'd be stepping down for the rest of the class and that I would take over instruction. He would stay on to help when he could, but teaching was too much of a strain. I nearly choked when he told me. He assumed I was nervous and reassured me that his lessons basically taught themselves.

As I graded tests, feeding them into the machine after marking the open-ended questions, the weight of my position took hold. A surge of resilience followed: I wouldn't put myself or the students at risk by behaving inappropriately. I knew I could handle myself.

Yet again, fate intervened. Or rather, cheating. Shortly after that first test, I was sitting alone in my little office with the door open during office hours. I wasn't expecting anyone so soon after an exam. Suddenly, she was there. I didn't hear her approach; she simply stood in the doorway, looking down at me and drawing me in with her eyes.

Something was clearly wrong. She stood tentatively, clutching a book to her chest, her eyes locked on mine with water at the edges. Concerned, I asked if everything was okay. She burst into tears, then stepped into the room and closed the door. She thought better of it and asked if it was okay for the door to be closed. I assured her it was fine and invited her to sit. I was overcome with worry; regardless of my crush, she was hurting and I wanted to help.

Tearfully, she explained that the professor had emailed her to inform her that she had earned a zero. She and a friend had cheated--turned in identical tests that clearly showed the collusion. She was given two options: continue the class with the zero and try to pass, or withdraw and keep the unfinished class on her record. She didn't even try to deny it; it was a moment of thoughtless haste. Her friend had withdrawn, but she wanted to stay. I asked how I could help and why she had come to me. She explained that she would need help making sure she could earn enough to pass and that I seemed like I would be understanding.

The conversation lasted an hour. Before leaving, she thanked me and told me I was good at responding to a crying student. I felt proud that despite my strong attraction, I had responded with fairness and support. I assumed this new understanding--that she would be highly focused and working hard--would extinguish the flames inside me. Any childish fantasies were surely impossible now; she clearly saw me as a supportive authority figure, and I wouldn't violate that. My concern melted away, replaced by a genuine interest in teaching the class.

The first few lessons after that fateful office visit went exactly as expected. I felt calm and confident. I was able to engage with her and other students without stumbling. Of course, she still commanded more of my awareness than I liked, but overall, I was satisfied. She had even started coming to office hours regularly, prepared with questions. It was a good use of time--a rarity for undergraduate office hours.

At one point, she began showing more skin in these sessions. The weather was getting warmer, I told myself; there was no reason to think it was for my benefit. Slowly, though, the realization dawned on me that something about her had changed. She was subtle, but I noticed lingering gazes, micro-expressions, and stalling when we were together. I felt the grip I thought I had achieved beginning to slip. I was thinking about her more, feeling distracted in class, and anticipating her arrival at office hours. I told myself I was making things up--seeing what I wanted to see--and that with only a few weeks left, I just had to hold it together.

Then, in a single day, everything clicked into place. It was a lesson full of video clips, so I took the opportunity to finish my lunch, which included a big cup of yogurt. I had taken a bite or two while the animated clip played when I suddenly became aware of her. She was staring directly at me. No pretense, no denying it. The rest of the class was fixated on the screen, while she looked at me with a slight smile, lips slightly open and eyes locked.

Worse, I was staring right back. I didn't allow my gaze to leave her. Without realizing it, I took another bite of the yogurt. Her reaction sent a jolt through my body; my blood pumped in places it ought not. As the spoon hit my tongue, her mouth dropped open slightly, unmistakably lustful. The feeling was intoxicating. I slowly removed the spoon from my mouth, deliberately turning it upside down so I could pull it away. Her eyes burned with desire.

I felt a power and pleasure that should not be. And I couldn't stop. I wouldn't stop. Slowly, I repeated the act, appearing to savor the yogurt while I was actually feasting on the hunger in her expression. It was easily the best cup of yogurt I had ever eaten, and I deeply regretted having only one.

The yogurt was gone and the movie clips ended. I finished the lecture, praying no one else had witnessed the exchange. She didn't even try to hide her expression; for the rest of that class, she stared openly, knowing that I had consensually participated in whatever that was.

After class, my head was spinning. I knew I wanted her. I was grateful that the professor had taken over grading the tests, effectively acting as my TA since I was handling the lectures. At least I wouldn't be able to benefit her in that way. I knew I was in trouble, particularly if she came to office hours. But we had four lessons left, plus the final, and I had only two office sessions left to survive. Maybe she won't show up for them, I told myself.

She didn't. But in class, she barely concealed the desire on her face. If anyone was paying attention, they would surely see her wanting eyes and seductive smile. She wore low-cut shirts and made sure I knew it. In our last lesson, she sat in her usual spot wearing a deep V-neck T-shirt tucked into a short, pleated skirt. Her outfit, though appropriate for school, left very little to the imagination. All I could see were her gorgeous legs and captivating gaze.

Even worse, she kept putting her hands between her legs. Was she touching herself? If I could have stared without being seen, I would have confirmed it; instead, I was tortured by my peripheral vision. The class finally ended, and instead of leaving, I hung around to answer questions. She didn't stick around. Finally, everyone else left and I slowly walked over to her seat. There was an unmistakable wet spot right in the middle of the chair. I froze in shock and arousal. Thank goodness this will all be over soon.

I was fantasizing about her and touching myself every night by that point. I no longer even pretended I stood a chance of not wanting her. I was terrified she might make a move and that I wouldn't be able to stop myself. My only solace was that the semester was ending; I had one test to administer, and then I'd likely never see her again. That thought was simultaneously a great disappointment and a relief. I'd spent enough time near her to know her smell and could recall it with ease. I could visualize her every curve, the color of her skin, the depth of her gaze. These fantasies invited almost excruciating orgasms every night.

I wondered how much longer I would need to see her in my mind's eye once she was no longer there in person. Would I be able to stand it? I dreamed of searching her out and making my desire known after the class was over. She'd no longer be my student, and there were no prohibitions to grad students dating undergrads if there were no competing relationships. Could she possibly want me, too? Every indication suggested she did, and yet it seemed too good to be true. She must have a train of admirers vying for her attention. I told myself she probably just enjoyed the taboo of it all and that the fantasy would end when I was no longer her teacher.

All this and more spun inside my head as I entered the classroom on the last day to administer the final. The room was tense, as expected; the students wanted this to be over as much as I did. She was exactly where I expected her to be: right down in front. Mechanically, I handed out the tests and waited while they were passed around. She seemed focused. Gratefully, I took my seat up front and told them to begin.

I was able to focus on some work of my own while the minutes ticked past. Eventually, students began to finish their tests and stack them on my table. My heart skipped a beat when I saw her start packing her things. She stood, walked up, placed her test on top of the stack, and casually left the room. Not a glance in my direction. I felt my heart racing as she walked by. I allowed my gaze to lift from my work as if nonchalantly noticing someone leaving, but I was longing to see her eyes one last time. I wanted to share one last look, see her smile, anything. My heart sank as I realized she was gone. Damn, I thought, I guess that's it.

I couldn't focus, so I got up and started pacing. I collected and fixed the pile of tests after each student returned one. These tests were machine-graded, so there was no point in working on them, but I just kept replaying the scene in my mind--seeing her walk out without so much as a glance. I was dejected, but still somewhat reassured. I guess my career isn't over, I tried to joke to myself.

Finally, the last student turned in his test. I gathered them for the twentieth time and headed to my office to submit the grades. I reflected that it ended up being a pretty good semester. Despite the emotional strain, I enjoyed teaching and was pleased with my improvement.

I started feeding the tests into the machine--a great piece of technology. The scanner could take each test, grade it, and automatically submit the results into the university's grading system. The only hang-up was that it could only take a few at a time, so I had to load them in batches. I sat mindlessly loading them, clearing paper jams, and confirming results with random spot checks.

I put the last stack in the tray when I suddenly became aware of someone else in the room. My back was to the door, but I felt someone there, moving closer. I started turning, automatically saying there were no office hours today, though there was no reason there would be with the final over. But the words caught in my throat as I turned and saw her standing there, not two feet from me, looking up with her seductive smile.

I must have made a sound, but it wasn't a word in any language I understood. She said nothing--just looked at me, holding my gaze like never before. I saw her eyes moving from one of mine to the next, taking in every feature of my face. I was frozen, stuck, and entranced, just like on the first day of class. Somehow, I realized the door was closed and I could feel my heart beating in my face. Had I closed the door?

She asked if I had finished grading the tests. Cold sweat appeared on my skin. Of course, I realized. She needed to know her grade to know if she'd passed. I had forgotten all about her zero, though I remembered suddenly that she needed at least a 70% on this test. I had assumed she would be fine; the test wasn't that hard.

Oh, I stammered, nearly, yes. You must be wondering if you passed; I can check for you. I started to turn back to the machine. I was aware that tests were no longer feeding from the tray, so it was either done or jammed. I just want to make sure you're done grading, she said. Confused, I checked the tray and saw that all the tests were done and the machine was signaling that all grades had been submitted. Yes, I said, see here, they're all graded and submitted. Give me a second and I can pull up your final grade, I said with a deep breath. I was feeling a bit silly; I didn't know what I thought she was doing there. But I was at least grateful for the opportunity to see her one more time and say goodbye.

These thoughts had only begun to bloom when I suddenly felt a jolt of lightning from my shoulder to my groin. Her hand was on my shoulder, and she was turning me back around, away from the computer. I was helpless to stop her and found myself face-to-face with her. Her smell filled my nostrils, her eyes filled my entire vision, and she was stepping close to me. Every part of me stiffened. Her hand moved from my shoulder to my neck, while the other rested on my chest. She pulled me toward her and my body relented, while my mind raced.

Her grade was in; I was no longer her teacher. Sure, I could change the results, but the professor was feeling better and had agreed to review the tests and lock it all in. All I had left to do was seal the tests in an envelope, and I was done. And her mouth was a mere inch from mine. She had pulled me just close enough and stopped, letting me decide if the final chasm would be crossed.

I hesitated, then released myself into her. I felt her lips on mine, warm and full. Then they parted slightly and I let my tongue find hers. With a gentle caress inside our mouths, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against me. Kissing her was ecstasy. I closed my eyes and ceded experience to the rest of my senses. Every inch of my body vibrated. I knew my hands were shaking.

Tentatively, I broke the kiss and stood tall. I held on to her waist and could feel her pushing her hips into mine. She looked at me the way she did that day in class when I was eating the yogurt--her need was plain.

Give me just one second, I pleaded. She looked amused as she gently removed her hands from my chest and took a partial step back. Of course, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, she said. I couldn't tell if it was disappointment I sensed or playfulness.

Um, I do want to continue this--so much it hurts, like a lot--and if you'll just allow me a few seconds... I stammered as I turned and reached for the pile of tests. I fumbled for the large envelope and managed to slide the tests inside, then sealed it, licking slowly across the glue. I caught her eye while I did and saw her mouth drop open slightly as I slowed even more. Finally, I finished, sealed the tests, and signed the flap.

There, I said, I'm officially no longer your teacher. We're free to... well, do whatever we'd like. That is, if you still want to... do something. I tossed the envelope ceremoniously toward my bag and books and gave her a wry grin.

The smile she gave me in return brought my heart rate up even higher. She lowered her chin, the corners of her lips curled, and she slowly closed the distance between us. And what is it you imagine I want to do? she asked. I was dumbfounded and unable to answer. I must have stuttered, but she just laughed and suddenly reached up and pushed me hard in the chest. Despite being much bigger than her, the surprise caught me and I stumbled back a half step until I was partly sitting, partly leaning on the table behind me. She grinned wide and was against me again, pressing her body hard into mine.

Instinctively, my hands found her hips and I pulled her harder to me, half for balance. Again, she stopped before reaching my mouth and asked if it was okay to kiss me again. Yes, I said in a breath, you can do whatever you want to me. Her grin widened. Then she kissed me hard, forcing my mouth open and exploring with her tongue. She squeezed my chest hard and pulled me against her. My brain refused to catch up with my body. I could feel myself rock hard, hands shaking, breaths rapid and shallow. I felt entirely intoxicated--breathing her in, feeling her breasts pressed into me, our hands running over each other of their own volition.

I needed to get myself back under control. If I let the momentum carry, I was sure I'd turn purely primal. I managed to part our lips and gently, firmly push her hips back so I could regain my balance. I felt her body fight, then relent, that seductive, inquisitive look returning to her face. I fell into her eyes once more, staring at her perfectly shaped mouth, lips curled up slightly and parted as though she just sucked in a breath. For a moment, the urgency returned in a wave, and I almost devoured her again.

Balance restored, I took hold of her and quickly reversed our positions so she was now against the table and off-balance. She gasped slightly with the sudden movement and looked as though she was realizing for the first time that I had nearly 100 pounds on her and almost a foot in height. I could easily control her body if I wanted to.

I held her gaze and hardened my own. Wait just there for a moment, I ordered softly, don't move. I took a slow step away and saw her freeze in place with a look both bemused and submissive. I stared into her eyes as I backed slowly toward the door, reaching back without looking to lock it. The click of the lock filled the room, and the mode shifted in an instant from tentative to urgent. Her expression was now pleading. She could see the need in my eyes and feel what we had just unlocked.

I was back in front of her in what felt like a single step. She raised her hands to my chest and melted into my embrace. I held her tightly for what felt like a long time. Holding her gaze, I slowly tightened my grip with one arm while bringing my other arm around her body, dragging my hand up from her waist, between her breasts, and finally around her throat. I saw her eyes grow slightly as she felt my firm grip.

Is this what you want? I asked in a clear, steady voice, narrowing my eyes slightly. I felt her breath quickening in her chest; my weight held her against the desk. Yes, she whispered, pleading. I squeezed my hand around her neck and pulled her mouth to mine, kissing her hard. Her whole body yielded to me. Her hands dropped to her side and her head seemed to lull, as though she were only half-conscious. But her lips and tongue worked with mine, caressing and exploring until, with equal force, I pulled her face away, still holding her around the neck.

I want to see your body, I told her, releasing my grip and stepping slightly away. As if waking up, her eyes fluttered and her mouth quivered, then settled into a satisfied smile. Yes, sir, she said, lowering her head slightly, though her eyes never left mine.

I relaxed my body as she began to obey me. First, she slowly pulled off her thin sweater, revealing her tight tank top. She tossed the sweater on the table behind her, then reached down and quickly pulled the tank over her head. She laughed and fixed her hair while I stared wantonly at her body. With a mischievous smile, she reached back and deftly unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall down her arms. She could see my arousal growing as she turned slowly around while starting to unbutton her pants.

She looked over her bare shoulders at me, kicked her shoes off, and began to gradually lower her pants over her ass. She bent forward slightly and took her time, teasing me as she pulled them off. She kept her purple lace thong and thin, white ankle socks on, but she slowly turned around and stood facing me for inspection. Good girl, I said with a slight smile. As she heard those words, satisfaction appeared on her face; she was clearly hoping to please me.

Do you like what you see? she asked, seriousness returning to her face. Yes, very much, I replied, and I think I'm going to like what I taste even more. The delighted, shocked smile returned, and I instructed her to sit up on the table. She dutifully obeyed, sliding back just far enough to give her feet some purchase.

Before she could settle, I was on her, forcing my body between her legs and catching under her knees with my hands. I parted them, then forced them wide as she leaned back and looked longingly down at me. I slowly lowered my face and allowed my cheeks and tongue to brush the inside of her thighs, back and forth, closer and closer to her. I could feel heat emanating from her. Finally, I let my tongue flick over the material of her underwear. She shuddered and gasped; her anticipation was finally relieved.

I pressed my mouth and tongue firmly over the material at first, then gently let my tongue explore the edges while holding her legs open at her thighs. Abruptly, I reached a hand over and yanked her thong to the side, revealing her glistening flesh. I sank my mouth and tongue deep inside her and began exploring and caressing every inch. She tasted better than I could have imagined. She shuddered and jolted, one hand caressing my hair and the other at her mouth. I sucked at her clit and felt her pleasure rising. I moaned into her, feasting and gratifying my own desire for her skin. I felt her body stiffen and her moans grow intense. I steadied my pace and watched as her eyes started to roll back. Suddenly, she covered her mouth with one hand and barely stifled her moans as her body rocked in orgasm.

As she finished, I allowed my mouth to travel up her body, drawing my tongue over her stomach, to her stiff nipple, and all the way to her neck. I felt her relaxing and shuddering with pleasure as I made my way to her mouth, sharing her taste with her. She greedily lapped at my tongue, clearly enjoying herself. Finally, she paused and told me she has rarely orgasmed so quickly with a new person.

You must enjoy being a good girl and pleasing me, I said with a smirk. I do want to be a good girl, she said, and slowly started to slide down and off the table. I stood and watched her settle on her knees and begin unbuttoning my pants. I quickly removed my button-down shirt, leaving my white t-shirt on, and felt her nearly rip my underwear as she pulled them down enough to reach my hard cock. She pulled it out and moaned in pleasure, holding my warm flesh to her face before slowly licking it up and down the shaft. Her movements were almost frantic. She enveloped me with her mouth, jamming me deep into her throat with a little gag, looking up at me with her big, pleading eyes.

I felt like I would fill her throat in a second, so I took a deep breath and grabbed the back of her head, slowing her pace so I could regain control. She had one hand wrapped around my shaft, working up and down, while her other hand worked her clit between her legs. Good girl, I whispered, keep touching yourself, but don't come again. She slowed slightly, then I saw a hint of a smile as she resumed feverishly sucking me.

With her eyes on mine, I reached down and pulled the hem of my shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor. Her eyes bulged as she saw my chest for the first time. Holy fucking shit, she exclaimed, letting her hand continue working my shaft while staring up at me. Do you like what you see? I asked, grinning wide. All she could manage was a nod. Good, now get back on that table and spread your legs for me, I ordered. She rushed to her feet and back to the table, laying her head back and holding her legs wide open. My pants and underwear were still around my thighs, and her thong was pulled to the side and likely ruined. I admired her gleaming body as I approached.

Her expression shifted to pure desperation as I slowly ran the head of my cock up and down her wet labia. She gasped in pleasure as I finally, slowly pushed my length inside her. Our eyes remained locked and I leaned over her, letting one hand explore her body while pumping in and out. Our mouths were both open and breath was coming fast, occasionally finding each other's lips and tongues.

In a movement, I grabbed her hips and back with each arm and lifted her up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around me and started riding my hips. I held her tight, then turned, sitting on the table and letting her bounce up and down. I knew I couldn't balance or move too much with my pants around my thighs, so I held the spot and enjoyed seeing her pleasure herself on my body. You're not allowed to cum yet, I told her, and she smiled, bouncing harder into me.

Our chorus of moans filled the space, though we tried to suppress them. I wanted to see her ride me for real, so I took control of her hips again and gently slid her off of me. Her face was pleading again, waiting for instructions. I removed the rest of my clothes, then settled on the floor on my back and directed her on top of me. She happily settled onto my cock with a whimper, then started bouncing her ass up and down. She was watching me carefully and controlling her pace, milking my ecstasy.

I pulled her waist to me so only her hips could move, then grabbed her ass hard and pulled her cheeks up and down. She moaned into my ear and whined in delight, relinquishing control. I forced her to speed up the pace until I could feel my cock hardening almost to the point of climax. Then I grabbed her hips and pull them hard, pushing as deep as I could and letting her waist go so she could rock and gyrate on me. I could see her pleasure growing again, so I pushed up in rhythm, hoping I could hit just the right spot. She ground hard and fast, moaning and panting, then finally let out a carnal scream. I felt the orgasm shuddering through her and my own finally let go. I screamed in unison and felt a river of semen blasting out of me. Barely aware of anything other than her skin, I somehow noticed a wet sensation spreading out from under her and down my legs and ass.

Is that what I think it is? she asked, looking alarmed. I don't know--do you squirt? I replied. She laughed and collapsed onto me. I embraced her and held her tight. For a long while, the only sound in the office was the quiet hum of the grading machine and our heavy, synchronized breathing. The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, a stark contrast to the sterile academic environment.

We stayed like that for what felt like an hour, limbs tangled on the floor, the earlier intensity replaced by a soft, vulnerable quiet. She traced the lines of my chest with her fingertip, her movements idle and affectionate. I kissed the top of her head, finally allowing the tension that had been building since the first day of the semester to fully evaporate. The fear of being caught or behaving inappropriately was gone; the grades were locked, the tests were sealed, and for the first time, we were just two people in a room.

She told me she had recently been exploring kink, and I made sure I hadn't been too rough. She laughed, a genuine, light sound, and assured me it was exactly what she had been hoping for since the yogurt incident.

Eventually, the reality of the setting returned. We got up and tried to clean up as best we could. I had ruined her underwear, and we sacrificed mine to the effort. We dressed in silence, occasionally stealing glances that were no longer tentative.

As we walked out of the office, lacking underwear and wearing a sheen of sweat, the hallway felt different. I walked her to her car. So, I said, now that I'm officially not your teacher, I think I owe you a proper date. Somewhere with no grading machines.

She grinned, the seductive spark returning to her eyes as she pulled out her phone. She took my phone number and immediately sent me a text.

I watched her drive away, feeling a strange mix of relief and anticipation. I hadn't even begun to process what just happened, and yet, I realized this was only the beginning.