"Yeeeee!!!" she squealed as the bottom of the world dropped out from under her, as orgasm illuminated her brain pan, as the powerful muscles of her pussy commenced to milk and tug violently on the professor's deeply imbedded tongue.

Somewhere above her, on some other plane of existence, she could hear the sounds of agony he was making as her vagina wrung out his tongue threatening to uproot it. She giggled, then moaned as her consciousness plummeted into the abyss, every fiber of her being vibrating with the joy of climax.

Slowly, she returned to the real world, coming back up from the depths, her fingers, her toes, her nipples tingling with the afterglow of orgasm. Dr. Bertrand was still between her legs. Obviously, he hadn't learned his lesson. He was hungrily licking her sloppy wet cunt, sliding his tongue up and down the deep, central gulley.

"Enough?" she exclaimed, placing her hand flat against his forehead and giving him a hard shove. He sat back on his haunches, giving her a sorrowful look as she closed her thighs and returned the crotch-band to its rightful place. Not that it covered much of anything, as it was so stretched out of shape. Her droopy labia were still visible on either side of it. But it was the idea that was important, that was painful to him, the idea that she was withdrawing the carrot.

"I was just getting started," he said, miserably. "Yes, I can see that," she said, looking down at his thigh. Prom above the knee to the ankle, running down the inside of his leg was a thick line of pearly white goo. The line of goo started somewhere under his Bermudas, somewhere in the vicinity of his now flaccid cockhead. "Started on your second time around."

"Please, let me do it some more," he whined. "I can't get enough of it. I love its taste."

She shook her head.

"You've already got the assistantship job, if that's what you're thinking about. Come on, open your legs," he said.