"What do you want to do to it?" she asked, her voice sounding strange, shrill to her ears, her blood pounding in her skull, her pussy glowing like a bake oven between her thighs.

Bertrand gulped. The expression on his face said he wasn't sure that she was being serious, that he thought she was just teasing him some more.

"Tell me," she said, running the tip of her finger round and round the visibly winking entrance to her cunt, playing with the wet sphincter. "I want to hear it, really."

He gulped again, harder. Even under the dense hair on his neck, his Adam's apple could be seen bobbing. Hope lit up his face, hope of the pathetic, manic variety. His eyes burned into her open cunt.

"Please," he mumbled, "please let me kiss it. I won't do anything else, I promise. I just want to kiss it, to lick it."

"You want to what?!" she said, in astonishment. The professor turned crimson.

"Lick your pussy," he said so softly that she could hardly hear it.

But she did hear it. The whispered words made her head spin and tickles of pleasure explode at the tips of her breasts… The famous professor wanted to kiss her cunt! He was ready to grovel, to humiliate himself for the privilege! The idea of taking her pleasure from him while she debased him was so exciting to her that she could hardly bear it.

Seeing the color rising to the young woman's cheeks, realizing that perhaps he stood a chance of doing what he most dearly wanted to do, Bertrand continued, his voice growing stronger, more assured.

"Please, let me," he said. "I'm good at it, really I am! I can make you cum, I know it. Let me lick it, please. I know I can make you happy."

The slightly more authoritative tone of his voice did not please Joselyn. It was like the sound of fingernails grating across a blackboard to her nerve ends. He was asserting himself, but not the way she wanted.