Advanced Statistics was a confusing and unnecessary course, I hated it. Bane of my life! I may have had no interest in the subject but my Statistics lecturer however, was another matter altogether. She was built like an improper fraction herself; bigger on top. Even though she had ample buttocks, her breasts were enormous in proportion to the rest of her slender caramel-skinned body. Miss Grace had full hair that was blown out into a luxuriant afro and her glasses gave her a sexy nerdish look, even though they were a medical requirement rather than a complimentary fashion accessory. Her long legs -accentuated by skirts and gowns that rode just above the knee- gave the impression that she was taller than she actually was. The combination of these made her one of the objects of the lewd fantasies that pervaded my dreams every night. As the course rep of the Mathematics department, I would visit her office at least three times a week. I always opted to sit on the sofa close to the door instead of any of the chairs directly across from her, so I could see beneath her desk as she attended to other matters before giving me any attention. I didn’t imagine there was any chance in the world that we could ever be sexually involved so I was more than content to play the voyeur from across the office. And as far as voyeurism goes, nothing was easier than spying up her skirt for a peek at her panties. Miss Grace was amazing at math but the one thing she didn’t know how to do was sit like a proper lady. Seventy percent of the time she would sit with her legs carelessly open, deeply engrossed in her Facebook comment section instead of signing course forms.
I saw it all. The red polka dot panties, the light blue cotton panties, the black lace ones, the white lace ones, the occasional purple one with the black trim around the edges, and of course the sexy pink one with the flower patterns. They were all burned into my mental files, ready for masturbatory use in my alone time. Sometimes the panties would relax on her trimmed crotch, outlining her pussy lips. Other times, they would swell around her unshaven mound, with strands of dark pubic here sticking out of the edges. Whichever it was, I would enjoy the show which usually lasted long enough long before she would finally change her position. Every exit I ever made from her office required a great deal of effort to conceal my raging boner.
And so continued the routine until the Friday morning that harboured the reality of my wildest imaginations.
People often joke about the impeccable attendance record of Maths teachers and lecturers in any weather. Miss Grace was no different. Nothing short of a stroke would sway her from her duties. But thankfully, it was that stubborn resolve that put Miss Grace and I in the same place alone that Friday morning. The April rains were pouring relentlessly. I was utterly convinced she would see this as a fine day for an impromptu test, and I would not be caught sleeping. So I set out for class, braving the elements with nothing but a small umbrella. I was already within the campus when the rain intensified. The stronger winds made it impossible to keep using the umbrella and I immediately sought cover under a nearby bus stop canopy. I turned to my left to regard the person who also took shelter here and there she was. Miss Grace was drenched to the bone.
“Good morning ma,” I said as I moved closer, taking in the sight of her bra underneath her soaked now-transparent white blouse.
Her response was an almost inaudible acknowledgement of my presence through chattering teeth. Her body trembled with her arms wrapped in front of her in a tight grip. Something was wrong. I was also starting to learn that the canopy didn’t offer any respite whatsoever, because of the direction of the wind. She was already soaking wet and if she stayed here, she would be worse off. By some stroke of luck, an empty campus shuttle slowed down in front of us. I took her bag and led her forward, guiding her into the shuttle.
I looked at her, expecting some sort of direction on what to do next but she just sat there shivering, doing nothing, saying nothing. The driver shot me an inquiring glance and I made up my mind. There was no use heading for class, not with her in this condition. Besides, nobody else would be there yet. But she lived in the staff quarters and I had been there on two occasions to drop off test scripts and attendance forms when she wasn’t on seat and had requested me to drop it off for her. I told the driver to drop us off there and five minutes later we were at her front door.
She had gotten worse, unable to respond when I asked her for the key. Taking the initiative, I rummaged through her bag and found it. I was lent confidence by the spontaneity of my actions, or perhaps because my intentions at the time were noble and born more of concern than the desire to prey sexually on my vulnerable sexy lecturer. Maybe a bit of both, considering that my first action was to lock the door behind us.
I led her to the bathroom of the self-contained apartment without resistance. I began to unbutton her blouse, my chest pounding as I waited for a negative reaction from her. None came. I didn’t stop to admire her breasts, making a point to first squeeze her soaked blouse in the faucet sink to make my silent intentions clear and put her at ease if she had thought otherwise. I tossed it into an empty bucket and turned back to her. I began to unzip her black skirt, expecting the worst this time. Still nothing. Instead she leaned against me for support to step out of the skirt. She wore the white panties today. I took longer squeezing the skirt off, to give my now noticeable bulge some time to deflate. When I cooled off I tossed the skirt into the bucket and turned back to see her still rooted to the spot, still quivering. I moved close to her again and having made it this far, I threw caution to the wind and reached behind her to unclasp her bra. She obliged me. Without missing a beat I pulled her panties down too and she stepped out of them without so much as a tense muscle. The blood came roaring back to my prick and this time I made no effort to hide my erection. I squeezed her undies off, bucketed them and led her into her room. When she was comfortably seated on the bed, I pulled the sheets around her and went into the mini kitchen where I found teabags in the top cupboards. I put some water in the electric jug and turned it on, then came back out to her.
“I’m boiling water. Do you have any menthol balm?”
She shook her head.
She nodded this time, still trembling like an aspen leaf in an easterly gale.
I rifled through the contents of her bag once again and found it. I knelt in front of her bed, pulled the sheets off her, and commenced a body massage from her feet to give her some warmth. I worked my way up her calves and her sighs got deeper as I went higher up her thighs. I fingered her hairy pussy without a second thought, forgetting the purpose of the exercise. She let me, offering nothing in the way of resistance, her soft moans spurring me on. I worked on her tummy next, and my hands finally found her large firm breasts. My dick was almost bursting out of my pants as I fondled them in a gentle massage. She was trembling for a different reason now, her eyes closed behind her cute glasses. I laid her on her back, unzipped my pants, and without any time consuming formalities I penetrated my lecturer’s sweet cunt. Miss Grace, a willing participant grateful for all the warmth spreading from her crotch to the rest of her body, hugged me to herself, spreading her long legs further apart. Five minutes later, I shot loads of cum into her pussy. She went into the bathroom on her own while I went to bring a mug of hot tea from the kitchen. But before returned, she had already thrown on a large sweater and was in the process of wearing her right sock. When she was done she got back into bed without a word, ignoring the mug and drifting off into an uneasy sleep which I left her to and made my way to class under a lrizzle. It was two more hours before anyone else showed up. Miss Grace was absent for the rest of the day, but all I could think about was her naked body on the bed with white streaks of my sperm on her pubic hair as she looked up at me through her glasses. I thought about whether we would continue to have sex or whether her attitude toward me would change. I chose to savour the thrill of the present. The way I saw it, I had saved my lecturer’s life. And maybe, just maybe, this would be the easiest A I ever got in Statistics.