Answering My Professor’s Personal Craigslist Ad – Charlie’s Adventures #2


Introduction:
This is a story about Charlie’s experience with her favorite professor.

This is a continuation of Charlie’s life. I will be posting her ‘adventures’ in a non-chronological order, just as they come to me. But I’m really wanting to go a bit further with this story, and maybe make it into several parts. As you finish the story, you’ll realize how this can become a series within my Charlie series. Please comment about things you’d love for Charlie and her professor to do, or any other ideas. And remember, feel free to PM me on the Forum site with any ideas. And always, rate and review! Enjoy 😉

As I sit in my News Writing and Editing course, I browse through the Craigslist job ads and click on each one that catches my interest. My professor, Professor Owens, talks excitedly about a current new trend occurring through the journalistic universe. He’s a pretty attractive man, has to be in his late forties, early fifties. He has “salt and pepper” hair and is scruffy. Since day one of class, I have found him extremely charming, as do most girls in the classroom. He’s always happy to teach and always willing to help me in any sort of assignment.

I yawn softly, just not wanting to pay attention in class, until I stumble upon an ad mixed in the Personal and Jobs section of the website. I bite my bottom lip and click on it, my eyes widening as I continue reading.

*Looking for help in personal office: filing, organizing, grading papers and exams, etc. Position may also include house chores and errand-running. If agreed to, personal favors are also expected and will be paid very well. (Up to $1,000 per day)

Outfit required: black button down blouse, black pencil skirt, red lace bra and panties–thong preferred–and black or red heels. Please also paint finger nails red, wear red lipstick and wear hair in high ponytail.

Please call XXX-XXX-XXXX if interested.*

Up to $1,000?! I quickly jot down the address in my planner and practically run back to my apartment just off campus at the end of the day to call the number.

I called and spoke to a man, who sounded oddly familiar, and after a short interview–with no mention of the “personal favors”–he agreed that I would have a one day trial run. I would be getting paid as if I was already hired and there was no doubt that I needed the money.

My name is Charlotte “Charlie” Martinez, only loved ones are allowed to call me Charlotte. I am a 5’10 Hispanic girl with curves in all the right places. I have a thick ass that guys love to stare at, perky C-cup breasts with medium brown nipples to match my naturally brown/tan skin. My dark brown, almost black hair hangs a at least half a foot below my breasts and I am in good shape, but still have meat and curves in the best places. I am a 21-year-old junior at the University of Texas and I have definitely had an interesting sex life. But I’m sure you already know that.

That call was made a week ago, it is now Friday and I am anxiously driving to the address in my GPS. I brush my slightly damp hands that are gripping my steering wheel too tight in the Texas summer heat.

As I step out of the car, I straighten my black pencil skirt and my slightly see through black button down blouse. My red lace bra is clearly visible through the shirt, but I didn’t think he’d mind. If my skirt were see through you’d be able to see the matching red lace thong. My long finger nails are painted a candy apple red and my thick lips are covered in a slightly deeper red color. My long dark brown hair is straight in a high ponytail and I even got rid of my contacts to add my thick, nerd-like looking glasses. I look like the stripper version of your favorite secretary.
I fix my black peep toe heels and walk up the steps to a gorgeous house.

I knock on the door and take a deep breath, whispering to myself, “You need the money, Charlie.”

When the door opens, the gasp that comes out of my mouth and the mouth of the man at the door is almost identical, “Professor Owens?”

He clears his throat and straightens out his slacks, which has an ever-growing bulge pressing against the fabric, “Miss Martinez, please, come in.” I brush past him and smell his amazing cologne that must be enhanced with female pheromones because the wet spot that forms in my lace thong is absolutely insane. Maybe it’s his smell or just the anticipation of the ‘personal favors’ mentioned in the ad. “What a coincidence it is that one of my own students answered the ad,” he chuckles, obviously nervous.

I can’t help but giggle softly, “Well I need the money, Professor O, you don’t mind, do you?” I ask in a slightly innocent and seductive tone.

He looks my outfit up and down and consequently shakes his head, “I don’t mind, just make sure you don’t tell any of your classmates about their grades,” he says with a wink. And fuck me if I don’t blush at that wink.

He clears his throat a little harder, shifts his slacks and begins to show me a tour of his house. It is almost mansion-like and it is gorgeous, I forget that he sells textbooks to go along with his courses–business must be booming. As I’m thinking this, he points to my desk, which is completely across the room from his, the desks facing each other. I realize that my desk doesn’t have a part covering where my legs will be and that he will have a direct line of vision to my crotch. I get even more wet at the thought.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” he finishes.

I look up at him and realize I’ve been thinking about him looking up my skirt for the past minute that I just missed his entire sentence, “I’m sorry, say that again?”

He chuckles, “I was saying that the files that you will need are on the desktop and they each have instructions in them, it shouldn’t be too hard.” I sit in the oversized leather desk chair and melt into comfort. I see folders with different names on them and he rubs the back of his neck, a sign I have come to realize means that a guy is anxious. “I will be in the living room, there’s an IM set up on the computer if you need to contact me.

I nod, “Thanks so much, Professor Owens.”

“Please, call me Trevor,” he says and walks out of the office.

“Trevor…” I whisper with a smirk as I start clicking through the files. I go through one folder after the other, grading exams and online quizzes with an answer key that is in each file.

I get halfway through the alphabetized list when I come upon a folder named “Personal Favors.” I click on it and begin to slowly scroll through the 20+ page file. Each page is a different type of ‘favor’ with a high resolution photo demonstrating each favor and the first few pages show a different body part of a very sexy woman wearing the same outfit I am. In one photo she’s shed her blouse, then her skirt, then her bra, then her thong, all the while leaving on her heels and a pair of glasses that slightly resemble mine. Her nails and lips are painted a hot fire red, a bit brighter than mine, but she’s also lighter skinned than me. Each of item of clothing lost is worth $20-50, up to $100 once full nudity is reached. A strip tease doubles the amount.

I feel myself get even more soaked as I continue scrolling  and get to more interactive sexual favors, such as a hand job ($150), a blow job ($300) and a sensual massage along with either of the above an extra $50. Each favor was accompanied by the same woman doing each and every one and at the end, there are three high resolution cumshots–one deep in her mouth/throat, another with the large cock erupting in her face and another covering her breasts in the thick white substance. 

Finally, there are photos of the woman in different positions with the man: bent over the arm of a leather sofa, getting plowed; her riding him, her heels the same level as his knees as she straddles him on the same sofa; her laid on her back on his desk, papers strewn across the floor (each position earning $500); and the final photo is of her on the couch with her legs spread wide open, her heels on the edge of the couch, pushing the thick white substance out of her tight, pink pussy ($100 more if I let him cum in me). I can feel the wetness dripping onto my thighs and onto the leather chair beneath me.

I scroll down to the bottom of the Word document and read in thick, red letters: “IN THE DRAWER TO YOUR RIGHT IS A BOX FILLED WITH MAGNETS OF PHOTOS, THE PHOTOS ARE THE SAME ONES YOU SEE IN THIS FILE. PLEASE CHOOSE WHICHEVER FAVORS YOU’D LIKE TO PARTICIPATE IN AND ATTACH THEM TO THE WHITEBOARD IN THE HALLWAY OUTSIDE OF MY OFFICE.”

I gasp and look around, as if he’s watching me, and open the drawer and then the box, pulling out exactly what he described. I shakily choose a strip tease and then the blow job photo, along with the photo her taking the cumshot in her mouth. I then choose two positions, being plowed on the couch and on the desk, and finally I choose the last photo, of the woman pushing cum out of her pussy. There’s nothing I like more than being filled to the brim with hot cum.

I hear him clicking away in his living room and walk out of the office, posting the magnets quickly and walking back into the office and sitting on the chair, trying not to have a complete anxiety attack in anticipation.

Not even two minutes later I see an IM pop up in the corner of my screen, “Are you ready for the favors?”

I bite my bottom lip, glad that this red lipstick doesn’t come off for anything but strong make-up remover and type back slowly, “Yes.”

I hear his laptop shut and he walks over to the office, already undoing the belt around his slacks. I stand up and take a deep breath, walking towards him and placing my hand lightly on his chest, pushing him back onto the leather sofa. He plops down and stares up at me as if I have a halo around my head, but I can tell you for sure that it’s horns, not a halo. Here I was, a 21-year-old girl, about to have naughty sex with her professor for money. For a lot of money.

I stand between his legs and shimmy down a little, my hands running down my tight thighs and up my skirt, bringing it up to my waist. He gasps at my soaked red lace thong, making it almost see through and reaches for it. I smack his hand away lightly and smirk, pulling my skirt back down my thighs. I hear him sigh audibly and I slowly start to unbutton my blouse. As I finish the last button, I toss the blouse to the side and lean down, my breasts centimeters away from his face and my enchanting perfume clearly noticeable. My C-cup breasts are wonderfully pushed up beneath the red lace bra and I feel absolutely sexy in it. I unzip my pencil skirt from the back and let it fall, pooling around my heeled feet and I kick it to the side with my blouse. He groans softly and pulls out his hard on. It’s a wonderfully sized penis and I bite my bottom lip hard to refrain from getting on my knees and sucking it then and there. I once again run my hands up and down my body, turning around and bending over, giving him a big look at my bare ass and barely covered pussy. While I’m bent over, I stick my fingers beneath the straps of my thong and pull down, my damp thong falling easily to the floor with the weight of my juices. I turn around and straddle his lap, reaching behind me and unsnapping my bra. I let it fall down to his lap and then throw it with the rest of my clothing, the only things I’m wearing being my glasses and my heels.

Trevor leans forward and starts nibbling on my neck, I moan and pull away, shaking my finger at him and getting down on my knees in front of the sofa, gripping his cock and stroking it, rubbing the pre-cum around the head before I engulf it within my mouth, sucking sensually and firmly. Every so often I allow it to go down my throat a bit, but never all the way, teasing him and making him groan louder and louder, “Oh Charlie!”

I smile around his cock and continue sucking it, pulling off of it with a ‘plop’ before taking a deep breath, opening my mouth wide and going down quickly, swallowing a little as it goes down my throat and pulling back quickly with a gag. I do the same over and over again until  he grabs both sides of my face and begins fucking me, making me gag uncontrollably. He groans loudly and throws his head back as he begins to spurt his semen down my throat and in my mouth. I swallow gladly, licking around his sensitive head as I pull back after he’s noticeably spent. But one thing that surprises me is the fact that his cock stays completely stiff the entire time, even after cumming so much.

“Trevor, how are you still hard?” I ask quietly, my voice a bit hoarse from the mouth-fucking I had just received.

“The powers of Viagra, darling,” he says with a wink and pulls me up, kissing me hard, roughly and passionately. I moan into his mouth and allow him to taste himself on my tongue as we massage each others tongues intensely.

He picks me up easily and walks over to his desk, sitting me on the corner as he pushes everything off, pencils, pens, plaques and papers flying around the carpeted floor surrounding the desk. He lays me back on the mahogany desk and slides me back until my ass is hanging off of it, he spits on his cock and rubs it, before entering my pussy. His moan tells me that he just realized he needs absolutely no lubrication because of how wet I am. I moan as he fills me up tightly and I grip the edge of the desk as he begins to pound me hard and fast. He spreads my legs in the air and presses against me as he fills me to the brim, fucking me and thrusting in and out of me hard, making my breasts bounce. His pelvis is rubbing against my clit deliciously as he plows in and out of me, making me scream and have not one, but two orgasms, back-to-back.

Without warning, he picks me up and I wrap my legs around him. He places me down by the couch and unfortunately his cock slips out, but in no longer than 10 seconds he has me bent over the arm of the couch and is thrusting in and out of me, his pelvis smacking my ass loudly. His panting and groaning, my moans and screams and the sound of our skin smacking together the only sound in the room. It doesn’t take long for me to have another orgasm and he soon joins me, holding my hips as he thrusts one big thrust into me and I feel his hot, wet jets of cum hit the back of my pussy, filling me up. His cock, finally and completely spent, only slightly limp, slips out of me. I sit on the couch as he sits on the ottoman in front of me, staring at me as I put my legs up, my heels on the edge of the couch and we both look down to see my pussy muscles push out the cum onto the towel that he laid out for me. I run a finger through our mixed juices and taste it, moaning softly (and tiredly.)

He looks at me, “My god.. Charlie, you’re hired.”


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