Lust in the Darkroom – Photography Teacher & His Student

The Following is a True Story, About My Professor and Me

I met Professor Zimm in a one off shop class that I took just for the credits.  His passion for his teaching is what made me fall in love with just about anything he taught.  I went on to take several of his classes.  In the front row was where I sat, sometimes wearing more revealing clothing for a second glance.  The way I craved even an ounce of his knowledge and passion to be poured into me.  Even at night, alone in my bed, I thought of him – fantasized of him.  Then finally, all of those fantasies came true, when I felt the palpable lust in the darkroom.

This time, it was a photography class of his.  But like always, I sat front row.  And without the dress code of shop class, I caught him stealing extra glances at my long, bare legs.  Being an art class at a smaller state classes meant that there were only a handful of students in the entire class.  None of which seemed to feel his passion for the arts as I did.  Eventually, his after hours sessions opened up.  To my delight, I was the only one who ever showed.  We spent this time developing the class’ photos.  But, the lust in the darkroom only seemed to become stronger.  That was even after I started masturbating while driving to stave off my craving for him.

It was Hard to Focus with the Lust in the Darkroom

Mr. Zimm’s eyes stared calculated, and focused as he dipped each photograph delicately into the water, then up to hang.  Did he know what he was doing to me?  Each splash of water reminded me of the puddle growing in my panties.  Each time he pinched the edge of the photograph to a clothespin, I imagined it being his fingers around my puffy nipples.  I was always interested in older men.  Their wisdom, their salt and pepper hair, their heir of mystique and well carried confidence.  Mr. Zimm had all of that, and currently stood only 6 inches from me.

He dipped another undeveloped photo into the solution, with the faintest splash.  Again, I throbbed.  But as this photo developed, it displayed an image that neither of us expected.  Even in the dim lights, I could see Mr. Zimm flush.  The photograph was of me.  Camera in hand, and crouching to capture the right angle of my subject.  Little did I know until now, that I was his subject.  The photographed barely captured the scalloped edge of my panties underneath my undeniably short skirt.  Now, the lust in the darkroom almost felt wet.

Mr. Zimm Began to Stammer

A small part of me loved to watch him squirm while all of my suspicions of his reciprocated feelings were proven to me.  All of that coming to light, in this dimly lit room, gave me the courage.  The courage to trace my finger across the lips I’d already fantasized about being all over my body.  I felt his voice diminish to a whisper, before I pulled him against my body.  He took over then, and let the lust of the dark room carry us into an explosion of our several semester’s long craving for one another.  Mr. Zimm pulled me onto the table, and didn’t hesitate to let the developing solution splash everywhere.  The liquid dampened our clothes, and masked just how wet I was already.

In no time, we let this lust in the darkroom come to fruition.  He pulled out his throbbing member, and pulled my soaking wet panties to the side.  He traced my entrance with the delicacy I expected of such a passionate man.  Before he found right where my lips part, and thrust inside me all at once.  I melted into him as he filled me entirely.  Again, and again, he thrust into me.  I could feel my pussy clenching around him, and coaxing his cum into me.  Then, I whispered into his ear, and begged for it, just before I came in return.

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