Diving In Deeper

After a somewhat restless sleep I rose and carefully picked out my clothes. I wanted to wear something hot, but not ridiculous. I pulled out a longish skirt - it came to just above my knees - but decided to be slightly daring by not wearing panties. The shirt I chose had a low scooping neckline that presented a bit of cleavage. My walk to class was slow and measured, but my heart was pounding. I arrived about 5 minutes before class and sat down outside the door. Moments after opening a book, a few of my classmates walked up, also waiting for our class to start. I felt a sinking in my stomach, I wouldn't be alone to greet my professor.

He arrived exactly at the top of the hour and as he unlocked the door, his gaze fell on me. "Good morning," he said. I couldn't believe he was talking specifically to me - it must be because of our brief conversation at the pool the day before, I thought. I had to assume that this blossoming relationship was simply in my head so as not to feel insane, so just gave a hint of a smile and walked past him into the classroom.

I took a seat in the front row and as my professor rummaged through papers on his desk, I began fantasizing about crossing and recrossing my legs like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct. I hiked my skirt up slightly but realized I was too nervous to pause with my legs open while crossing them. I looked up, he was right in front of me, touching my desk. "What?" I said, smiling nervously. I hadn't realized that class had started, but everyone else had their books open, or at least on their desks.

"What did you see as the main philosophical differences between W.E.B. Du Bois and Booker T. Washington?" I realized then that he was repeating a question I had half-heard while daydreaming and he was specifically asking me. "Umm." I stalled to regain my focus. Luckily, having read the works of each man the night before, I was able give a satisfying, though somewhat disjointed critique. He smiled and turned to the class, "Yes, they both strived to meet the same goals - eradicating racism, discrimination and segregation. And yes, their proposed methods were disparate."

I fell back into a daydream, watching my hot professer's every gesture. His fingers combing absently through his chestnut hair, the nod of his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth all made me feel slightly warmer and perhaps a little wet. I gathered my books and notebook together without thought and followed the other students out the door at the end of class. It wasn't until I was halfway back to my dorm that I realized, with some annoyance, that I had left without even stalling to talk to him. "Ah well" I thought, perhaps I'd see him at the pool soon. Anyway, in the worst case, it was only two days until my next class.

That evening as I approached the pool, I hoped so strongly that he'd be there, that I felt he might just magically appear on the diving board. But no luck. I changed into my swim suit and went back out to the pool, begging my eyes not to look at the empty diving board, but looking anyway. The 11 other divers on my team slowly arrived and we took turns practicing our dives with direction from our coach. We tried to stay warm by wetting our shammies in a bucket of water and wringing them out over our heads as we waited. After some dryland exercises at the end I went to shower and change. As I walked toward the locker room he appeared, just heading to the men's locker. "Hi," I said enthusiastically, unable to hide my excitement. He chuckled "Well, hi." "You're here to dive? Three meter?" I asked, stupid questions rolling easily off my tongue. "Yep" he nodded, "I have to wait until you diving team people are out of the pool." Obviously, I thought. I smiled and turned to leave.

"Hey, wanna dive with me?" he asked "perhaps I could teach you a thing or two. I was an NCAA All American back in the stone age." All the lust in my body wanted me to say yes but the the words that came out of my mouth betrayed me. "I think my teammates and coach Pam would think it's weird." "Pam and I competed together in college. I can talk to her if anyone says anything. Besides, it's not weird for people to dive together." A wide and playful smile lit up his face. Was I imagining things? "I'll be back in a few," he called over his shoulder.

I went into the locker room and showered to warm up a little and think. "This must be a dream," I kept saying to myself. Or I'm truly crazy. Perhaps I was talking to myself outside and just imagining him there. I waited 12 minutes and headed back out. Luckily, in that time most of my teammates had left.

"I thought maybe you'd chickened out" he called from the top of the diving board as I walked toward the deep end of the pool. "Nope. Just needed to warm up in the shower a little." He took a few practice bounces and then walked toward the end of the board, effortlessly performing a reverse dive.

"So what do you wanna learn?" he asked as he reached the side of the pool. I blushed, being unable to quiet my inner dialogue. "What's your weakest dive? he asked without a pause, but also smiling. "I don't know, Professor Thompson, I'm not great at inwards. I'm a little scared I'll hit the board." "Call me Dylan" my professor stated, chipping away at the academic wall dividing us. I nodded my head and felt like I continued to look like a bobble head for the next significant amount of time, as he explained, demonstrated and critiqued the inward one and a half. And while I was having an decent time, it was a relief when he finally said "everyone's long gone, sorry for rambling on, let's call it a night." I agreed and briskly headed toward the locker room, quite cold at this point.

I was just about to reach for the door when his hand grabbed my arm. "I was hoping that since we have the place to ourselves..." his words trailed off and I believe my mouth fell open. I really must be dreaming, I thought. I looked down at his Speedo and noticed an unmistakeable bulge. I put one hand on his chest. "Can I take that as a yes?" he asked. I nodded my head, still standing there dumbstruck. He pushed the door open and I followed him into the women's locker room.

We were barely through the door before he started pulling at my swimsuit. As my single garment fell to the floor, he pulled me close, kissing me with intensity. I willed myself to be present, but only with partial success. His hands moved up and down the curves of my body. I buried my head in his shoulder, soaking up his smell, despite the overtones of chlorine.

I began shivering, perhaps out of cold, but more likely from anticipation of something unimaginable. "Let's get in the shower," he said turning me around and guiding me by the hips. I could feel his cold swimsuit against my butt and began reaching to pull it off. He let go of me and turned on the water, allowing me to easily undress him. He turned to face me as the warm water started pounding on my body. It was almost too much to bear - sweet, soothing comfort of warmth and his beautiful body in front of me with the happily protruding sign of his desire. I kneeled down to suck his cock. For a moment I worried that I wouldn't be good enough, but then I quickly calmed down seeing his eager delight and reminding myself that it wasn't as if this was my first time. I began working his shaft with my mouth and hands, at times letting one hand wander - balls, anus, legs and chest. Just when his breathing started to really get short, he stopped me. Leading me to one of the nearby benches, he laid me down and spread my legs. He kissed my breasts, stomach hips, naval and as his fingers moved inside my wet vagina, his mouth went to work on my clit. I too was soon gasping for air. However with the tables turned, I didn't stop him as he moved me toward climax, instead letting myself explode in his arms. As I lay there our eyes met and he spoke slowly. "Before we go any further, I just want you to know that this is something I've done before. Slept with students." "Ok" I replied. "You're not my first either." "I actually do it with some regularity," he stated, admitting a more complete version of the truth. "I'm okay with it," I responded, shoving away my unease for the pleasure of the moment. "Alright then. As long you don't have long-term expectations."

Leaning toward me and kissing me deeply, his tongue explored my mouth. He pulled me up to a sitting position and went around behind me. As I leaned over the bench, his hands grabbed my sides and his penis slowly eased into my wet pussy. The thrusting and our moans built in speed intensity and volume. For a moment I thought about the possibility of someone else coming into the unlocked locker room. That thought and the banging I was receiving pushed me over the edge. My pulsations and bucking in pleasure during the orgasm led rapidly to his climax. We slid off the bench and lay next to each other on the floor, my head on his arm, as we listened to the sound of running water.