The middle-aged professor was a study in thoughtlessness yet he was often lost in his own private thoughts that drove him to distraction in the middle of a class. His senses reached out to touch his personal "Lolita". She was a figment of his imagination and yet as real to him as the blister on his big left toe that nagged him with every step.
Professor Minskovich was not a tenured professor as yet but he had high hopes of achieving that milestone at the end of this term providing he did not get caught up in some scandal or made a mistake in judgement that would disqualify him from his lifetime ambition.
His students knew he was "off" again and smiled knowing that they could do almost anything they wanted when he was in another world like that. Nobody complained because it was refreshing to be free from the shackles of constant supervision and interference with their other responsibilities. In other words, they would be able to do the sort of things that had absolutely nothing to do with French Literature.
Young Harry Higgins was reading a novel of dubious merit inside his textbook that had some interesting drawings of the main characters interacting with each other. It was not the sort of content that would be found on any responsible academic's reading list.
Most of the professor's students were quite happy with professor M. considering him one of the "good guys" who never made unreasonable demands and generally gave most students a full grade higher than they felt they truly deserved.
Some of the female students who were blessed with loose moral character did their level best to interest him in the possibility of trading access to feminine secrets for pumped up grades but he ignored their hints and suggestions pretending he didn't understand their meaning. They became so frustrated at his naïve rejection of their delicate favors that they just went off and screwed a horny male on one of the many sports teams to blow off steam and reset their equilibrium to the proper setting.
The professor was probably the most notorious teacher for turning down free pussy in the history of the entire university system. Of course, none of the students or the other members of the faculty were able to read his mind filled with the perverted visions of the nubile and underage Lolita running stark naked in the morning mist. One hint of that depravity would be sufficient to get him canned in a hurry and the chance of tenure would be forgotten forever.
His landlady, Mrs. G. knew that look and understood his mood better than most. She was most enamored of the professor and schemed to get him between her legs on an almost daily basis. Lately, she had been relying on keeping his attention by allowing him to supposedly tutor her daughter Dolly on the complex nature of French humor. The young girl was flattered by the attention and she flirted outrageously with the middle-aged man but Mrs. G. didn't care as long as the professor was still sitting on the sofa when Dolly finally skipped her way up to bed. It was usually right at those moments when the professor was so caught up in his daydreams about "doing it" with her young daughter that she knew instinctively he would be receptive to a casual hand on his aroused business or lips on his lonely mouth. She generally turned the lights down low and tried to make her voice sound like her Dolly's and imitating the same flirting manner. She knew she was winning the game when the professor closed his eyes and let her have her way without objection. It seemed grossly unfair to her letting him believe he was getting her daughter's mouth on his business or her daughter's hand on his hard shaft already wet just thinking about pulling her Dolly's undies down for his inquisitive hand. Still, it was all she had to work with and it seemed a winner. The problem was that the horny landlady was so desperate that she would take any route to the professor's manly delights no matter how devious or underhanded.
Mrs. G. didn't care if he was thinking about her daughter when he mounted her and she didn't care if he had her daughter's smile on his mind when he shot his copious load between her legs just as long as she was the one getting the sticky reward and not her immature daughter with her silly ways about boys. In her opinion, there would be plenty of time for her Dolly to get her own boyfriend to give it to her good and hard and probably break her heart in the process. In a way, Mrs. G. wanted her naughty and selfish daughter to have some of the grief and pain that she had endured from countless boyfriends and suiters who came up short in their promises and their declarations of love and respect. They had all disappointed her and now she had the professor right where she wanted him and if she had to use the vision of her precocious flirting daughter to hook the man she would not hesitate to tie her to a stake and set her out as bait.
Soon professor M. grew accustomed to mounting his landlady closing his eyes and imagining her tantalizing sixteen year old daughter helpless under his invading cock. It was so satisfying to him because she had the flirtatious sounds of her naughty daughter Dolly down pat and she even helped out the fantasy by using the girl's favorite perfume to fill his obsessed nostrils with Dolly's nymphet scent driving him into a concerted frenzy of relentless humping like one would expect to find only in the rawest of sexually oriented novels.
The professor had no other choice than to offer marriage to Mrs. G because she dangled the possibility of her pretty daughter staying close to them on the honeymoon and entertaining him when she needed to catch up on her sleep. In her mind, she didn't consider the possibility that the middle-aged man could ever want an inexperienced young girl like Dolly over her skillful talents in dispensing feminine favors. In fact, she pitied her immature daughter for her silly flirtatious ways and her experiments with the pimply faced youths who tended to focus on her petite rear entry and her pretty mouth most of the time. It was a fad with the young people these days and not even considered real sex by any stretch of the imagination. It was probably for the best because it helped to keep down the unwed mother's statistics and reduced the need for single parent subsidies.
Poor Dolly was constantly on edge with her physical needs but despite her efforts to appear receptive to male attentions the simple truth was that she was covertly shy and fearful of intrusion into her private places by the man-sticks that did their dirty business and then lost interest and moved on to some new fresh young thing that presented a challenge. She had countless encounters with young lads that reveled in the dirtying of her mouth and in stretching her much admired brown eye but seldom allowed any of them to have what she considered "real" sex inside her neatly trimmed snatch.
It was for that reason that she was addicted to the attentions of older men like professor M. because he doted on her kissing, licking and sucking talents and was a sure thing when it came to returning the favors. Dolly knew her age had a lot to do with it but she felt like she was older even than her own mother and had knowledge far beyond her sixteen birth years in female form.
Dolly was no longer a virgin.
She acknowledged that fact with the realization that her cherry was more an inconvenience rather than something to be proud of because these hedonistic days it was a status of ridicule and not pride.
The easily forgotten boy that had broken her hymen had already moved on to bigger and better things and she suspected that he was at heart a bit a "limp wrist" darling for some of the wealthy businessmen who were often in his handsome company. In fact, she almost had to beg him to put his silly thing in the proper slit for having babies promising him oral and anal delights if he did a proper job.