The Ginger Professor

99367b21d7287cc8afbef4cb5f8f80ed

By Christopher Wyatt
(For Tom)

I was lucky enough to receive a partial scholarship from a university that was, sadly, not near any of my family. Though I was nervous about being so far from my support system, my parents had put two kids through college already and had three more to go after me, so I was willing to do anything I could to lighten their financial burden. That included taking a full class load and working a part-time job. My mother often joked that my older brother and I were born in the wrong order as I was always the overachiever.

I landed a part-time job in a small gay-owned coffee shop next to campus that catered to the artistic crowd and while there were plenty of guys to flirt with, between classes, homework and the shop, there was no time for playing around. As the months of the fall semester waned on and the weather turned cold, more and more people sought the comfort of a warm cup of coffee while out.

One weekend afternoon a man in his early 40s, wearing a stylish black raincoat, ducked out of the rain and came up to the counter. He ordered a small black coffee and paid with a $20 bill. As I started to hand him his change he held his hand up.

“Keep it,” he said. I started to protest, but he just grinned, telling me, “I remember what it’s like to be a working student.”

With that, he headed to a small table against the back wall with one of the free newspapers. Though the place was crowded with people noisily chatting or working on laptops and whatnot, this man stood out from them all. He was about six feet tall with an average build, handsome face and hair slicked back from the rain. His hair and goatee were a rich copper color, which stood out even more against the fair complexion of his skin — at least the skin I could actually see.

During my shift I kept finding myself looking over to his table, and more than once I found him to be looking back at me. As our eyes met, he would smile kindly and turn back to his reading. I wasn’t sure if he was attempting to flirt or just being curious about my coffee making. I, on the other hand, definitely found myself intrigued by this ginger-haired man and felt a bit disappointed when I looked again in his direction only to see a now empty table.

That night while studying, my mind kept wandering back to work — back to the red-haired man and his piercing eyes. The timbre of his voice as he spoke to me echoed through my mind until I began wondering how it would have sounded whispering into my ear, or panting heavily as he lay on top of me, or how he would sound while he was coming. I felt my cock stiffen inside my pajama bottoms. Unable to focus on the textbook in front of me, my hand found its way under the waistband and around the base of my dick.

I had barely started to stroke it when the door opened and Raheed, my dorm roommate, entered with a smile on his face and a bottle of beer in his hand.

“I brought you a brew. You’re missing the best party!” He set the bottle on the desk in front of me.

“Gotta study,” I shrugged.

“Yeah.” He looked down at my crotch. “Looks like it.”

I grinned at him. “I met this guy today –”

“Oh! Deets!” He leaned on the desk and looked at me earnestly.

“He was older. Had red hair. Great smile.”

“Great bod?” he asked.

“I don’t know; he was wearing a raincoat.”

“So did he hit on you?”

“No,” I answered almost sadly. “But there was something about him — so hot!”

Raheed made a quick look around and then knelt beside my chair, spinning me toward him. “Well, I ain’t no redhead,” he said. “But I’m in the mood to help a brother out.” He pulled the waistband of my pajamas down and hooked it under my balls, exposing my hard dick. He leaned forward, sucking the head of my cock into his mouth without hesitation.

I leaned back, my hands now laced behind my head, and let my roommate milk my cock with his mouth. I looked down at him, my eyes moving from the tight kinky curls of his short black hair, down his mocha-colored skin to his dark brown eyes which looked up at me as he took the length of my cock down his throat. I let out a long sigh. “Fuuuck,” I whispered as I closed my eyes and enjoyed his continued deep throating.

My mind’s eye found myself face to face with the ginger-haired man from the coffee shop. He was on his knees in front of me, matching Raheed’s sucking stroke for stroke. I moaned as I felt fingers begin to lightly rub the area just under my nuts, slipping ever closer toward my hole. I was breathing hard, every inch of me on fire as I felt my balls begin to tighten and my orgasm build faster than I was expecting.

I barely got the words “I’m coming” out before my hands gripped whatever they could to steady myself in the chair and I was pumping a load of fresh jizz down Raheed’s rapidly gulping throat. Though my vision was blurred between the older white man and my hot black roommate, I was happy to feed them both my load.

Raheed licked every bit of cum from my cock and stood up, taking the beer and downing it as a chaser. “Don’t say I never do you favors,” he quipped and headed back to the party. Quickly becoming drowsy, I flopped down on my bed where I spent the night dreaming of the hot redhead.

That week I had hoped every day at work to see him walk through the door, but he never did. As finals approached, I had all but forgotten about the mysterious coffee shop man until one day I was in the quad waiting for class with a group from the dorm. We were discussing who was going home and how deep the coming snow was going to be when I looked up to see at the darkening clouds. As I did, my eyes caught a man looking out of one of the office windows on the second floor of the sciences building. Even against the gray sky reflected on the window glass, his red hair shone through.

“Who is that?!” I asked, staring at him.

The group stopped talking to look up to the window. “That’s Professor Ramble,” my friend Kelly said. “He’s smokin’ hot. Everyone thinks so!”

While the others went back to their conversation, I continued to stare up at the window, even after he was no longer standing there.

That night I asked Raheed if he knew anything about this professor.

“Duh! He’s head of the Queer-Straight Student Alliance. You’d know that if you ever bothered to show up.”

“So he’s gay?” I asked excitedly.

“We don’t know,” he said somberly. “He’s divorced, has two kids, but I definitely get a gay vibe — ya know what I mean?” He stopped what he was doing to look at me. “Wait, this ain’t that redhead you were goin’ on about a couple weeks ago?”

I shrugged, giving him a half smile.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” he howled. “Boy, if you land him, I want a video of it! That is one hot muthafucka.”

The next day on the way to work, I stopped by the professor’s office and checked his office hours, the last of which coincided with my lunch break. I hatched a plan to bring him a cup of coffee and do my best to be interestingly alluring and slightly mysterious, without coming across like a slutty stalker or an awkward teenager — which, even though I was 20, I still had the propensity to act like at times. Still, I was determined to have some sort of interaction with this hot redheaded professor.

At 12:15 I arrived at his office door and waited patiently outside as he was helping a student understand something sciency that I couldn’t follow. Apparently neither could the student, because he sucked up another 20 minutes while I became more and more convinced this was a bad idea. It was just as I was making up my mind to abandon ship that the student whizzed past me and the professor called out “next.” As I was the only one there, I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through my hair and stepped around the corner of the doorjamb.

When he looked up from the papers on his desk and saw me leaning against the frame of the door holding the coffee cup in front of me and trying desperately to appear cool, he gave me no sign of recognition whatsoever.

“Yes?” he asked sternly.

“I … uh … brought you some coffee.”

He glanced at the cup in my hand and back to me. “I didn’t order any coffee,” he said flatly.

My throat closed and my last bit of self-esteem drained from my body as fast as the color rushed to my face. “Uh … I know. I … uh … you had ordered some the other day … at the shop. And I … uh … just —” His unflinchingly stoic expression stopped me from jabbering. “I’m late back to work,” was all I could think of to say. I set the cup of coffee on the corner of his desk and exited as quickly as I could.

On my way back to work I relived the horrible moment over and over; each time the blood rushed to my face all over again. By the time I took my place behind the counter my hands were shaking from embarrassment, causing the owner to turn the heat up several degrees and make me drink a cup of hot cocoa.

I used my cell to call Raheed and tell him how I had just made the biggest fool of myself. All he did was laugh until finally he said, “Dude, the man is old enough to be your dad and who knows if he’s even gay. He probably has no clue you were tryin’ to get up on him. Stop trippin’ and forget it.”

“I wasn’t trying to get up on him,” I said quickly. “And you’re right.” As I hung up I poured myself into my work and did my best to erase the thought of the redheaded professor from my mind.

Several weeks had passed from that day and the constant rain had turned to a steady onslaught of snow. Finals were done and most everyone was departing one by one to celebrate the holidays with family. I, on the other hand, made the decision to stay and take on extra work hours at the coffee shop in hopes of building up my savings to buy a used car by the summer.

With the increasing snowfall and the lack of college students looking for liquid energy, the shop was a wasteland throughout the day with only a few hardcore customers braving the cold for their daily fix. I made use of the downtime to catch up on the leisure reading I had sacrificed for textbooks during the past four months.

Nose deep in an emo vampire gay romance, I was startled to hear someone on the other side of the counter clear their throat. I quickly put down the book and stepped up to the glass countertop, only to feel my face immediately turn crimson as I looked into the eyes of the ginger professor.

It took me a minute before I could speak. “Uh — what can I get you?”

“Hot chocolate,” he said. As I began to pour him a cup from the machine he added, “And I wanted to apologize for the other day.”

“The other day?” I asked, as if I’d already forgotten. I set the cup in front of him, securing the plastic lid. “Oh, did you want whipped cream?”

“Yes, please,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he looked at me. “The other day at my office, when you very kindly brought me a coffee,” he said as I sprayed a swirl of cream into the cup, “I behaved quite badly and I wanted to apologize.”

“Oh, it’s cool. I was just passing by anyway,” I said, shrugging it off.

“Just passing by my office with a fresh cup of coffee?”

“Yes.” I avoided looking at him directly.

“The exact way I take it?”

“I —” As I moved the cup toward him, his hand closed over mine, both sending a shiver of excitement through me and making me fall into silence. I finally managed to look him full in the face to be met with a kindly smile and the most beautiful hazel eyes I think I had ever seen. We stayed that way for several moments, not moving, not speaking until — “Uh, this cup is really hot.” He took his hand away quickly and I shook mine several times to cool it off before putting a recycled paper heat ring around the cup.

“Taking the risk of coming off like a dirty old man,” he started, “would you have dinner with me?”

Despite myself, I couldn’t stop a nervous grin from appearing on my face. “Sure.”

“I’ll be in my office the rest of the day. Come by when you get off and we’ll go from there. Okay?”

I nodded, unable to look away from his eyes. “Right. See you then.”

He took his cocoa and with a quick smile he headed out the door.

I stood there grinning like an idiot and feeling my dick getting hard as my hand tingled from where he had touched it. The next several hours seemed to drag on forever.

When I finally was able to head out the door, the closer I got to his office, the more nervous I became. I kept checking my breath and straightening my clothes as I walked through the fresh layer of snow. Standing outside his office door for a good two minutes before finding the courage to knock, I was immediately told to “come in.”

I shut the door behind me and turned to find Professor Ramble sitting at his desk, lit only with a small lamp, casting a dim light over his main work area. He was leaning back in his chair with his hands laced together across his chest, his mouth curved into a warm smile as he looked at me. After several moments of silence, he spoke in a low tone, “Hello.”

The sound of his voice sent a pleasant shiver through me. “Hi,” I answered, unable to stop a goofy grin from appearing.

He motioned to a chair that was next to him, behind the desk. As I sat, I found it hard to take my eyes off of him. Now only a few feet apart, it was as if I could feel his energy reaching out and mingling with my own.

“This is going to sound frightfully bad,” he said, leaning forward, “but I just realized I don’t even know your name.”

“Chris.”

He reached his hand out to me, and I immediately took it. But instead of just shaking my hand, he held it, his eyes looking directly into mine. “Hi, Chris. I’m David.”

“Hey,” I managed. Just the feel of his warm, soft hand was making my dick thicken. As I spread my legs slightly to give my swelling cock more room, his eyes moved almost instantly from my face to my crotch and back. He cleared his throat and looked away, obviously trying to be polite, but as the palm of his hand started to moisten, I could tell he was feeling the same nervous attraction I was.

He let go of my hand, hesitantly, but our knees were now touching as we sat face to face. He started asking me questions about my major and the reason I chose this university, and when he fell silent, I asked him questions about himself.

Through lots of nervous laughter, as well as a few awkward moments, I found out he had recently come out as bisexual. That had led to a divorce from his born-again Christian wife and estranged him from his two children, both of whom were college graduates and starting families of their own. When he talked about them, his eyes glazed over with a sadness that made me want to reach out to him, but before I could muster the courage, he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

We’d been talking for at least an hour, still facing one another with our knees pressed together, neither of us daring to move them apart, lest it be misconstrued as a lack of interest — and the way we kept eye-fucking each other during silent moments, there was a lot of interest.

He sighed at one point and asked, “So, am I a dirty old man for asking you to dinner? I mean, you’re younger than my kids — isn’t that a little … creepy?”

I chuckled. “I don’t think my generation is too hung up on age,” I answered. “It’s the connection that counts.”

He smiled, his eyes almost glinting as he looked into mine. “And do we have a connection?” he asked.

I grinned what must have been an incredibly goofy grin and said, “Well, we’ve both been sitting here for an hour with raging hard-ons. I think that’s a connection.”

He looked down, not having realized that not only was the outline of his hard cock visible through his pants but that he had a small wet spot from precum that had been getting bigger over the past 20 minutes or so. Instead of trying to hide it, he just smiled bashfully. “I guess that says it all.”

When our eyes met again, I took a deep breath as a jolt of sexual electricity ran through me. I leaned forward slightly, and when he mirrored my movement, my heart started pounding. My eyes darted back and forth between his deep, piercing eyes and his red, full lips moving slowly toward me. I nervously ran my tongue across the inner part of my lips, trying to add some moisture to them, as he was now inches away. I felt the tip of his nose press against the side of mine and our lips finally meet. His breath had a hint of mint.

His kiss was tender but firm as he pressed his mouth against mine. Almost in unison, our lips parted and our tongues tentatively met, exploring one another. It was everything I could do to remain in my chair, maintaining the illusion of calm, when all I wanted was to have him inside of me that very moment.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly as our kiss finally broke.

Not able to form the words to tell him how attracted to him I was, I leaned forward pressing my mouth to his, and kissed him again as my hands found their way to his knees, sliding ever so slowly up his thighs. When our second kiss broke, his mouth trailed kisses across my jaw and to my ear where he began to suck and lick on my earlobe.

The office was now pitch black, save for the tiny desk lamp still dimly lighting the room, and his breath was the only sound aside from the low hum of the building’s heating system. His hands were firmly gripping my shoulders while mine had found the outsides of his thighs, even though I desperately wanted to move them to the middle.

Every time he bit into my ear, I found myself one step closer to forgetting about dinner and wanting to feast on the leaking sausage in his pants. But I kept pulling myself back. This was the first time I had been with an older man – the first time I had been asked out on a real date — and here I was acting like a sex-crazed college student.

It was moments later he pressed his face into the crook of my neck and opened his mouth, running his tongue hard against the tender skin. I let out a breathless gasp. He had found one of my major G-spots and apparently knew it from my reaction. He began working his mouth against my neck until I was shuddering continuously in his arms. That was enough to make me abandon any pretenses. I was a sex-crazed college student, and there was no point in trying to hide it any longer.

I rose from my chair, pushing him back in his own and straddling his legs. With my hands on the sides of his head, my mouth found his and with a push of my tongue, I parted his lips and poured every bit of my pent-up lust into one long, deep kiss. His arms circled my back, pulling me tight against him and pushing my swollen crotch against his. Only moments later his hands made their way down my back to firmly cup my ass. I knew he was as ready for this as I was.

As he continued to lick and suck my throat, I ran my hands through his mass of dark red hair, lacing my fingers through his ginger tufts and, despite myself, began to whimper at the sensations coursing through me.

His hands grasped my thighs and without warning, he stood, causing my legs to wrap around him as he carried me toward the office door. Steadying his hold on me with one hand, he locked the door with the other, then spun around and began kneeling. I quickly moved off of him, finding myself standing as he moved to both knees and began pulling at my pants. He popped the snap and without unzipping had my pants and underwear down to my knees in seconds.

Without stopping to even look at my throbbing, leaking prick, he took it into his mouth and pressed his lips all the way down into my pubes. My eyes rolled into my head as my mouth opened gasping for air and my body gave a quick shudder. It was everything I could do not to release my built-up cum into his tight, wet throat at that very moment. I rode the brink of orgasm as hard as I could, keeping myself from going over the edge. But once he came up for air, I had to stop him from going back down, or I would have come for sure.

Without hesitation he turned his attention from my shaft to my balls, sucking them into his mouth one after the other, pulling back, stretching the skin of my nutsack as his tongue ran counterclockwise circles around each one. I steadied myself by holding lightly to the back of his head. I kept running my fingers through his soft, thick hair and looking down at its deep red color, made even darker by the dim desk light.

After he got his fill of worshipping my tightening testicles, he stood, his cock already out and placed his hand on my shoulder, steering me to my knees. His dick was beautiful; a perfectly shaped bright pink circumcised six-inch member with a slightly large mushroom head. At the base of his shaft was neatly trimmed copper pubes and two large nuts hanging in an equally bright pink sack. I wasted no time pushing it into my mouth. Grabbing the back of my head, he pushed my face deep into his pubes. The calm, intellectual professor I had been getting to know these past few hours had now been replaced by a man filled with primal sexual desire.

Coming off his cock to take a deep breath, the smell of man-musk and cologne hit my nose and immediately made my prick jump. His hands still on the back of my head, he began pumping his meat in and out of my mouth in long but rapid strokes. His loud breathing turned into low moans, punctuated by the occasional high-pitched gasp. I was certain he was going to soon be coming in my mouth, and though I could almost feel my hole spasming with the desire to have this amazing older man inside of me, the thought of swallowing his jizz gave me a rush of lust that left me lightheaded.

He stopped suddenly, pulling his cock out of my mouth and dropping to his knees, replacing cock with tongue as he kissed me deeply and passionately. His arms held me tightly, almost desperately against him. We stayed like that for a short time, before he finally whispered, “Can I fuck you?”

“God, yes!” I said without hesitation. I wanted him inside of me so badly; I needed him to fill me! I couldn’t remember a time when I had ever felt such an incredible desire to be with someone — to have every possible inch of our bodies pressed together.

He pushed me back, hard, against the floor and lifted my legs. Quickly removing one of my shoes and pulling my pants and underwear off the one foot, he spread my legs open before him. He stopped, looking down at me, spread-eagle in front of him. His chest rose and fell with each quick, shallow breath, and his bright pink cock dripped a long, heavy strand of precum.

I rose up, grabbing my pants. Reaching into the pocket, I pulled out a condom. Though for the first time in my life, I felt the desire to have a man inside of me skin on skin, I handed him the rubber and laid back, waiting for him to make the next move.

He fumbled with the condom, spitting in it before unrolling it down his shaft. I gathered what saliva I could and spit in my hand, trying to make certain my hole was going to be slick enough for him to enter easily. He also spit into his hand and rubbed it over the condom. I felt a pang of nervousness, not having actual lube, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

As he lowered himself on top of me, our thighs now touching, and the feel of his hard dick now pressing into the crack of my ass, I felt a longing to grab him and pull him into me as fast as possible. The scent of him, the heat of his breath — the head of his cock now burrowing into my asshole — I had never experienced a desire so strongly before.

My dick pushed against his stomach as his cock slid deeper into me. I moved my hands up around his back and felt his strong musculature through the thin material of his shirt. With another push, I felt his hips touch my ass. He was all the way inside of me! He lowered himself flat against me, pulled his hips back and gave a hard deep push, sending his cock into me, filling me! My dick rubbing his stomach, his body completely covering mine — it was too much! My ass clenched around his cock, my back arched off of the floor and my balls tightened, sending a load of my cum spewing out of my cock between us.

“Did you just come?” he asked, surprised. I managed to groan a confirmation as I was still riding waves of orgasm. He raised up onto his hands, a smile crossing his face. “I’d better catch up, then.”

He then began pumping his beautiful rock-hard cock into me in a quick steady rhythm. I laid there, looking up at his dimly lit face, watching his eyes shut tight and reopen as he used me to pleasure himself. He was truly the most handsome man I had ever been with.

As his occasional groans turned into demanding grunts and his hips were slamming his phallus into me so hard I was starting to move across the floor, I was again feeling my body responding. I opened my legs wider to give him as much access to my opening as possible. My hands now gripping his biceps, I began to moan along with him. I could sense him on the brink of coming, and though I wanted desperately to watch his face while he came, instead my eyes rolled back in my head as my cum-covered cock — still hard and rubbing against him — began spraying once more.

He was unloading his jizz into the condom inside of me as I covered his stomach in more of my cum. Halfway through his climax, his arms buckled and he lay flat against me, his mouth finding mine and his tongue shoving its way deep inside. My arms encircled him, pulling him as hard as I could against me, never wanting to let him go.

It was in that moment I realized that even though I had barely even interacted with this man — even though I knew hardly anything about him — as insane as it was, I was falling in love for the first time.

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