Head Over Heels

Head Over Heels

By

J.M. Christopher

Published by J.M. Christopher

First edition ©2013

Electronic edition ©2013

Published in the United States of America

Copyright 2012 by J.M. Christopher at E-Spice Productions

Published in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations for reviews.

The characters and events written about in this book are completely fictional. Any resemblance between the characters and persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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She was a goddess. At least, she should have been. She could have been Aphrodite in human form. Her beauty was indescribable and she had pretty much taken me in the first time she walked into my classroom.

I teach the Freshman Seminar Class at a northern four-year college. So, I get to see what many of the students call “fresh meat” each and every semester. I’d been teaching there for about ten years, and had pretty much gotten used to seeing all the fresh, young 18 and 19 year olds, away from home for the first time, both excited and nervous not having mommy and daddy around to tell them what to do.

Yeah, I was attracted to many of the girls, and in my younger days had even dated and bedded some of them, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of that vixen when she walked into the room on the first day of the fall semester.

It was my afternoon class, and she walked in wearing her cheerleading uniform. Practice must have been right after my class was over and she’d decided it was easier than rushing to change. Maybe it was the outfit that first made me notice her, or maybe it was because she wasn’t quite five feet tall. It left her stomach exposed and that short skirt left little to the imagination. The girl could have walked into my room wearing a bikini and I might have been less aroused by the sight of her.

I taught my lesson, giving my twenty or so students the rundown of what they could expect from my class, but all throughout my eyes kept wandering over to my goddess. Her auburn hair cascading down her shoulders, the way her stomach sucked in when she giggled at my jokes, how she inadvertently displayed her cheerleading panties to me every time she switched positions—it was enough to drive even a gay man insane with lust.

After class had ended, I began packing my things up to head home. Most of the class had left, but I was aware of the presence of someone behind me. The faint scent of jasmine reached my nostrils, and as I turned around, I saw my petite cheerleader leaning over my desk.

“What can I do for you, Miss…?” I began to ask, then realized I didn’t even know her name.

“Nicole… well, Nikki,” she said.

Oh God, even her voice was sexy. It was high enough for her to still sound really young, but it had a hint of a throatiness in it that made her all woman. I really had to have this girl and the sooner the better.

“I’m Professor Smithson,” I told her, not knowing what else I could possibly say. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Not much. I was just wondering how much work this class is going to have.” She backed up so I could see her whole body and quickly waved her hands over her outfit. “Like you can see, I’m a cheerleader, and it’s going to be hard keeping up with everything.”

I wanted to tell her what she could do to guarantee herself an A in my class, but I didn’t think it would be a prudent option—not yet anyway. “Well, you’ll have to keep up with the work, just like everyone else. I can’t show favoritism.”

“I’m not asking you to. I just want to see if I could get some help if I fell behind.”

Every fantasy I’d ever had about any of my students ran through my head in that second. I pictured Nikki coming to my office one evening, wearing her cheerleading uniform with the top unzipped just slightly so I could see her full breasts underneath, complaining that she was failing my class.

“You’ll just have to work harder,” I’d tell her.

“There must be something I can do,” she’d say in a seductive voice. “Don’t you give extra credit?” Then she’d bend over and let me see a bit of her cleavage.

“No,” I’d say. “Extra credit isn’t something I usually give.”

“Really?” she’d ask me. Then she’d really lean over me. “I’d do anything.”

“Anything?” I’d ask her as if I had no idea what she was talking about, even though my thoughts would be mirroring hers perfectly.

“Anything,” she’d repeat. Then she’d unzip her top the rest of the way and let it drop to the floor, revealing a set of perfectly tanned and perfectly shaped breasts for my eyes and my eyes alone to feast upon.

I would reach up, tentatively at first, still not quite believing this beautiful girl was giving herself freely to me, and grab each of her tits in my hands. I’d squeeze them, and I’
d pinch her lovely nipples, making her scream out in ecstasy.

Then, she’d bend down in front of me and unzip my pants, slowly sliding them down my legs. “Oh my God,” she’d say staring at my hardened dick still enshrouded within my boxers. “I’ve never seen one so big!”

Then Nikki would pull them down and stare wide-eyed at my member for a moment before taking it in her hand and slowly stroking it.

She’d do that for about a minute and I’d moan, “Take it in your mouth.”

“Professor Smithson?”

The fantasy disappeared in an instant and I was once again standing in front Nikki, still clothed, and staring at me like something was wrong.

“Professor? Is something the matter?”

I shook the remainders of the dream from my head. “I’m sorry. I got distracted for a second. What were you saying?”

She sighed, but smiled at me as she said, “Could you help me out if I fall behind?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Sure. Just come anytime during my office hours.”

She looked so happy I’d said this. “Thank you!” I thought for a second she was going to bound around the desk and hug me, but instead she just bounced out of the classroom with a elated skip in her step.

As I thought back over the whole conversation, the parts I wasn’t dreaming about screwing her anyway, the whole thing was perfectly innocent on her part. The girl didn’t seem to hav
e any idea what I was thinking—and it was probably better that way.

As much as I wanted the girl, I knew my fantasies were just that—fantasies. But, I had all semester, and we would see what might happen.

**********

It was only a few weeks later when she did indeed come knocking at my office door. When I looked up from the papers I was grading and saw her
tiny body standing there, my heart literally tried to beat a hole in my chest. There she was, in that cheerleading uniform again. It was practically the only outfit I’d ever seen her in.

“Professor Smithson?” she asked in a meek voice. She’d barely spoken to me over the last couple of weeks, only to say “hello” or “goodbye” before and after class. She did tell me she loved my lesson on narrative writing after one class, but left before I could respond.

More than ever, I knew this girl was completely innocent. She might have been a cheerleader, but the way she carried herself didn’t lend itself to being the slutty princess,  as was stereotypical of most of these girls. I had my doubts about whether the girl had ever even been kissed before. The thoughts of her innocence made me want her even more.

My dick literally jumped at the sight of her. But I kept myself composed as I answered her.
“Yes, Nicole. What can I do for you?”

She ran her hands through her reddish-brown hair nervously. “Ummm… that essay that’s due tomorrow… ummm…” She paused. Maybe this would be it. Maybe this would be my chance to exploit that innocence.

“Go ahead, Nicole.”

“Can I maybe… ummm… get an extension? We have a competition tonight and I don’t think I’m going to get to finish it.”

“Oh I’ll give you an extension all right.” It’s what I wanted to say. It’s probably what I should have said. She didn’t want to fail, and she probably would have let me do things to her to get her way. But again, this was just fantasy.

Instead, I found myself saying, “Okay. Why don’t we say on Monday, that way you’ll have the weekend to do it?” I really couldn’t say no to this girl.

She practically jumped across the office and this time she did throw her arms around me. “Thank you!” she exclaimed.

My hard-on was standing fully erect now. She pressed her breasts into me and I could feel their firmness even through her top. Little did she know how much I longed to rip that top open and feel her bare flesh underneath.

Not knowing what else to do with this girl, I slowly put my arms around her and patted the smooth, bare skin on her back. Each pat lowered a half-inch until my finger just barely grazed the top hem of her skirt. Then she pulled back.

And with that, she was once again gone.

If she’d only given me five more seconds, my hand would have been patting that sweet ass of hers. But once again, the girl seemed to have absolutely no clue what she was doing to me, and what I wanted her to do to me.

Or maybe she did know what a tease she was, and the innocence was all just an act. Either way, I had to wait nearly twenty minutes before my dick went soft again and I was able to get up and leave my office.

**********

I always went to the home football games. Being a professor of the college did have the advantages of not only getting my tickets early, but also getting them for free. Needless to say, I selected seats nearest to where the cheerleaders would be performing.

It was the first home game of the season, so the stands were packed. But there I was, front row, with a perfect view of all the nubile young women, dressed in scanty outfits doing flips and shaking parts of their bodies in ways that would make strippers jealous.

Hell, if I went down to the strip club in town, there was a good chance I’d see one or more of these young ladies swinging from a pole—college girls have to earn money somewhere, after all.

So, anyway, there I was, watching more of the cheerleaders than the game. Nikki was hot. Since she was so small, she got thrown in the air a lot. She’d do flips in the air, and spread her legs real wide. This would give me an awesome view of the cameltoe she was displaying in those tight blue cheerleading panties.

And the way her tits bounced up and down when she would do her cheers. I wished I could see it all in slow motion. But I would simply have to settle for watching her bounce in real life.

It was fourth quarter and the sun was going down, bringing a slight chill to the air. Fall comes early where we’re from. Our team was up by twenty points and it with only a few minutes left on the clock, there was little chance of us losing.

This was the point where I usually left. We couldn’t lose unless tragedy struck, and traffic getting out of the games was always hellish. But I decided to stay just one minute more to take one last look at my goddess. And I was glad I did—very, very glad.

The cheerleaders, working ever so hard to get the crowd cheering—not that they needed to—were doing a good deal of acrobatic tricks. Like I said, because she was small, Nikki was the one to get tossed up in the air.

I cheered as Nikki did a double backflip nearly ten feet above the ground. But as she came down, one of her spotters misjudged and didn’t catch her correctly. Nikki fell down awkwardly, landing on her foot at an odd angle. She went down and so did the girl who tried—and failed—to catch her.

“AHHH!” she screamed.

I jumped up from my seat and ran down to the field. They let me on the field without question—again, being a professor at the college had its perks. I ran over to where Nikki was laying on the ground, clutching at her ankle. She was crying out in pain.

I don’t know why, but I genuinely cared about this girl and wanted her to be well. I barely knew her, other than seeing her in my class, so I shouldn’t have had this kind of emotional attachment. But I did. I cared for her.

“Are you okay?” I asked, looking down at her ankle.

She shook her head as the tears streamed down her face.

“C’mon, let’s get you to the emergency room.”

“No,” she said immediately, placing one of her dainty hands on my chest as if to ward me off.

“Nicole, we need to have a doctor look at your leg. What if it’s broken?”

She shook her head again. “I don’t have any insurance. I can’t afford a doctor.”

I sighed. I truly had sympathy for her. So many of these kids couldn’t afford even the minimal insurance coverage the school offered them. “Okay,” I told her. “But we have to get you out of here.”

I scooped her up. One hand cradling her under her back, and the other on her bare thigh just inches from her sweet ass. She didn’t think anything of my hand being there—after all, I was helping her out here.

I carried her out of the stadium and out to my car. She’d probably walked over, since the stadium was right there on campus and freshman weren’t allowed to have cars. So I never bothered to ask if she had a ride or not.

“I hate myself. They’re going to cut me from the team,” she cried.

I caressed her leg in a sort of soothing gesture as I carried her.
“No they’re not. People get hurt all the time. They might sit you out for a game or two, but you’ll be allowed to stay on the team.”

“But what if it is broken.”

“Then we really will have to take you to the doctor,” I explained. “Either way, they aren’t going to cut you, I promise.”

She nuzzled her head into the crook of my neck. “Thank you, Professor Smithson,” she said. “For helping me and everything else.” Then she gave me a kiss on my cheek before nuzzling into my neck again. Again, I’m sure the action was innocent, but the messages it was sending to parts of my body were to wake up.