At the time I thought he didn’t notice me. Later I found that
just the opposite was true. I had been watching him for maybe two
months trying to decide what it was about him that made my hormones
go wild. When seated next to him I got so wet that I was worried
about leaving a stain on the chair. I had read about pheromone in
relation to animals, but never thought that people were subject to
the same influences.
Why we frequently found ourselves in such close proximity was
another story. The English department where I taught did not think
a lowly adjunct needed a computer. In fact, they didn’t even think
I merited a desk. In reality, I didn’t need a computer as
programming was just a hobby for me. I just liked the idea of
making a machine my slave.
Thus we found ourselves seated in front of our respective IBM
clones on an almost daily basis. With a little detective work I
found out that his name was Alex and he was an instructor in the
computer science department. Even if he had been a sexual zilch, I
still would have probably noticed him as we were the ONLY users of
the two PCs in a faculty lab filled with Macs. God! how I hated
those machines. My prejudice, like most was inherited, in my case
from my father. He has been working with computers for the last 30
years. As a memento, he gave me his original IMSA 8080 still in
working order. I had been brought up to think that computers should
not be `cute’.
Herman, the director of the lab, must have picked up on my
vibes as he would barely give me the time of day. That is, until I
hatched MY PLAN.
One day, finally overcoming my shyness, I glanced over at
Alex. Actually, I looked at his monitor and realized that he was
trying to pirate an application.
“If Herman catches you, he will hang you by your thumbnails
and tattoo Mac icons on strange parts of your body.”
Alex laughed and said, “Oh, Herman and I are good buddies. I
teach Pascal using the Mac and I frequently have to ask him
questions. Actually, I make up the questions so I can stay on his
After the ice was broken, we began to talk every day. On about
the third day, I found out about HIS OFFICE. Since he was an
instructor, the university deemed to give him an office. It was a
hasty sheetrock affair of about 70 square feet and a very large
Steelcase desk. On the downside, it was located off the very room
in which I sat. Despite these limitations, it had a door with a
lock. This was not the point when I began to formulate MY PLAN, but
I am sure that it was an inspiration.
MY PLAN took its focus the day Alex and I were on the elevator
together. It was the typical cattle car scene. We were jammed in
like sardines and the only redeeming factor that when pressed
against each other I realized that Alex was sporting a very big
hard on. After this revelation and a few later surreptitious
glances, I realized that he had an constant erection whenever we
were together. He seemed to have the same chemical reaction to me
as I did to him. This discovery was the impetus which led me to
even think about anything as risky as THE PLAN.
A few very innocent lunches, laced with a lot of heavy sexual
tension, followed. As inconvenient as the location of his office
WAS, it turned out that we were both married. This came as not a
really big surprise, as I was fully cognizant of my own marital
status and since he was not a kid, the probabilities were that he
was married too. Although I had anticipated the fact, it presented
problems. I never claimed to be a romantic, but the idea of a seedy
motel room didn’t much appeal to me.
His office therefore became the most likely location. As I
mentioned before, its only assets were the large desk and the
locked door. The walls were paper thin. Since I generally cum
loudly and frequently, after contemplation, I decided I had better
begin my homework.
While Herman beamed away, I began my research on the Mac.
Discretion was the key word. Herman was very protective of his
little apples. The actual programming was done at home thanks to a
Mac on loan from a friend. (When it comes to programming, I am very
patient.) Finally, after weeks of debugging, I was able to write
and load a nifty little program that would render the Mac
server useless for the hour or so I hoped I needed.
After what had seemed eons, the day of execution arrived. This
was not exactly the type of program you could Beta test so I just
crossed my fingers and hoped I could prove my father proud.
Although we were definitely running on the same track, I
didn’t want Alex to suffer cardiac arrest. In preparation for what
was to come, I strolled into his office humming the tune of My
Favorite Things from the Sound of Music. When I began to sing my
lyrics to the song, a broad grin crossed his face. (If this is
beginning to sound like a scene from an Indian movie, you’re
right, but stay tuned.)
Guys in tight bike pants, their crotches a-bulgin’
Wet, hot, slick, hard skin, and secrets divulgin’
A story ’bout Suzy-Q, oh what a scene,
These are a few of my favorite things
Guys in blue denim, their lashes a blazin’
One with his pants off, his size is amazin’!
A horse with a hard on suspended by strings *
These are a few of my favorite things
When the clap hits, when his pud drops, and I need it bad
I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don’t feel so
* This line inserted in honor of Catherine the Great, and the new
After my vocal recount of MY favorite things there wasn’t much
resistance (none, maybe?) when I knelt down in front of him and
unzipped his jeans. Having waited for what seemed centuries, I
immediately began to savor the contents. As my tongue rolled around
the head of his penis, in a voice tempered with both ecstasy and
panic, he murmured,
“Jesus, Clarissa, we can’t do this here.”
Before the not to worry reassurance crossed my lips both of us
heard a shaken Herman pounding his fists on a nearby keyboard.
Putting two and two together Alex began laughing so uncontrollably
that I found it my civic duty to silence him. Retaking appendage in
mouth I began to suck it for all it was worth.
Not being slow on the uptake, Alex slid his hands into my
blouse and discovered I was not wearing a bra. In fact, since it
was a special occasion I had dispensed with all underwear. Taking
this as his cue, with a quick switch of positions we found
ourselves on his large Steelcase desk. He began by running his
tongue along the curve of my small but well formed breast, and down
my belly. Bearing right at my navel, he shortly found his tongue
wading through my short and curlies. I sucked him deeper into my
mouth as his tongue hit my clit. He had one hand twiddling my clit
between tongue laps, while his tongue was exploring my wet cunt,
darting in and out, tracing my lips all the way back where he
lightly nibbled that very sensitive area between cunt and anus, and
then he gave my hole itself a gentle brush.
The chill that shot up my spine caused me to gasp, sucking
his pumping cock deeper into my eager mouth. His tongue finally
returned to my clit. God the walls were shaking! I could have
continued with this game for a long, long time, but as if out of no
where a condom appeared. My heart, already pounding double time,
started doing little flips. My clitty, so recently being ministered
to by tongue, started pounding in anticipation of what it knew was
coming. I took the packet from him and ripped it open. Now, with
both of us sitting on the edge of that steelcase, I gently grasped
his member [I just HAD to] in one hand and unrolled the sheath with
my other. I realized that the wrapper was still in my hand. As I
reached across the desk to the trash, I felt a hand on my back, and
then another reaching around my waist to my hot pussy. I knew what
was coming, and I reached back to help guide his flesh missile into
my anxious (but not hardened) target. Help wasn’t needed however,
and before my hand found its target, his missile found mine, and
with a grunt of satisfaction he started his journey home.
With a long slow push I felt myself filling up. Then his hand
came around me and started to caress my clit. Then finger twiddle,
slow stroke out, fingers, fast push in. My clamping him tight on
each outstroke was driving us both to a frenzy. With each beat of
the penetration, the cycle of pleasure began all over again. As if
upon mutual agreement, a soft languid cry flowed from our lips and
could have been heard if anyone had been listening.
Serendipitiously, a loud wail from Herman was produced on the
opposite side of the wall.
I wish I could describe the sound of 12 Macs crashing
simultaneously, but it really isn’t very interesting.