Irini Petraki

Pofessor Van Zaadvocht, carrying a briefcase, walked into the leasing office a little before ten in the morning. He saw that the small-business had four desks, but only two of them were occupied at the moment. By-passing the man sitting at the first desk on his left, he approached the far desk on his right.

“I am Professor Van Zaadocht,” he said to the woman behind the desk. “I take it you are Miss Petraki?”

The moment he said that, he noticed the nameplate on her desk, but let it go.

“Why, yes,” she replied, standing up and offering her hand. “Nice to meet you, Professor. Please, be seated.”

She appeared to be about thirty, with long brown hair, greenish-brown eyes behind rectangular horn-rimmed glasses, an olive complexion, a broad nose, and full lips. There was a look of the Mediterranean about her. Perhaps Italy or Turkey. Or Greece. She was wearing a long-sleeve pastel pink pullover. The snugness of the knit material made it obvious that she did not have on a bra underneath, showing off her shapely b-cup breasts rather nicely. A wide belt circling her waist, black skirt and stockings, and black sandal style high heels completed her outfit.

Half-turning to her computer keyboard, she began filling in the details of the type of apartment he was seeking.

“I guess just a one bedroom,” he told her. “Preferably close to the campus, if possible. I just broke up with my girlfriend about two weeks ago and have been crashing at a buddy’s pad. But I really need to find a place of my own, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Professor,” she replied as she checked a box.

“Yeah, she kept complaining that I never spent enough time with her,” he answered and then shrugged. “She’s probably right. What with my lectures, grading papers, working on my latest book. I guess I probably really don’t have much of a social life.”

“What sort of book?” she asked, looking at him closely.

“You know. The typical dry volume of history. Ancient Greece,” He chuckled. “In my world, it’s ‘publish or perish’.”

“Maybe not dry,” she remarked. “I’ve always found history fascinating… Now,” she clicked her mouse a few times. “What price range?”,

When he answered, she did a few more clicks and some key strokes. After peering at the screen for a few seconds, she flashed a bright smile at him. “I have a listing that might suit you. Normally, I would send William over there to show it to you, but we’re kind of slow at the moment, so I can take you myself if you like.”

“I would,” he answered while checking his watch, “but I have a class in about an hour.” He sighed. “Like my ex used to always say, I never seem to have enough time… I don’t know when I’ll ever be able to get back into the dating scene. It’s all kind of frustrating.”

“Well, when you get back to your office, check your schedule and shoot me an e-mail to set up a viewing,” the leasing agent suggested.

He said that he would and stood up, while grabbing his briefcase and thanking her for her time. Irini peered up at him through her glasses, and after a moment or two, licked her lips. She stood up and said, “Listen, Professor, I know how it is to… to lose someone.” She jerked her head towards an interior door. “Why don’t you come with me for a moment?”

The Professor became excited. Not just for what he assumed was about to happen, but also because if it did, it would confirm his suspicions. He nodded and followed her through the door into a conference room. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed William watching them.

====================

As soon as they entered, Irini flicked the lock and nodded towards a chair at the end of the table. “Sit down and let’s see if I can relieve some of your frustration.”

He did, placing his briefcase on the floor next to him and spreading his legs wide. Irini sank to her knees between the Professor’s thighs and smiled up at him as she reached for his fly. She had long, slender fingers tipped with silver-colored nails. He hadn’t really noticed her hands before. They were quite elegant.

The metallic sound of his zipper being tugged down was almost thunderous. When she snaked her hand inside and fumbled with the front of his briefs, he let out a loud gasp. She smiled wider at that, but made no comment; she merely continued to stare into his blue eyes. Looking up at him from her kneeling position, she decided that the Professor wasn’t a bad-looking guy. He was a bit older than her, maybe ten or fifteen years older. Clean-shaven. Medium cut dark hair parted on the side. Average build.

Not that it really mattered. She was preparing to feed. Still, she did prefer her meal to look appealing.

“Niiiice,” she cooed when she dragged out his hardening cock from the layers of his clothing. She stroked it leisurely while studying the shape and contours of the organ as it continued to swell and expand in her hand. Once she had coaxed the penis into its full size, she again licked her lips to moisten them, and opened her mouth wide. Lowering her head, she engulfed the tip of the hard, erect phallus with her mouth and started to nod her head and loll it from side to side. Concentrating on just the tip. Her long, graceful fingers sliding up and down the shaft.

And then she started to suck. Suck hard. Creating an intense vacuum around the sensitive head of the cock. Her upper body swayed from side-to-side and she lifted and lowered herself in a rhythmic manner. It was as if she was dancing and the Professor’s dick was her partner.

From time to time, Irini would moan contently, savoring the strong, stout sex-sausage she was sucking. Sucking so hard that the sides of her face were sunken in, emphasising her cheekbones.

The Professor, too, was making noises. Groaning and gasping as the lovely leasing agent practically worshipped his cock. Her full lips sliding repeatedly over the ridge of his glans. Some women give sloppy blowjobs with loads of slimy spit. But Irini was sucking him off fastidiously. With elegance and refinement. Her movements bespoke of refinement and sophistication.

“Oh, Irini…” he moaned, using her first name. He assumed that if she were blowing him, a certain amount of informality was acceptable. “You are going to make me… m-make me c-c-cum.”

“Hm-mmm,” she hummed, giving him permission or encouragement to do just that.

Her murmured reply was quickly followed by muffled “Oooo!” as she felt the first viscous spurge of sperm splatter the roof of her mouth. She immediately sped up her stroking while holding her head perfectly still. Her lips securely locked around his erupting cock. Pumping furiously on the throbbing erection, helping it ejaculate the thick creamy load of semen. She swallowed repeatedly, gulping down her awaited reward. Hungrily slurping the steamy spunk he was feeding her.

Then she leaned back, aware that the now spent jizz dispenser had nothing more to give.

“Thank you, Professor,” Irini said in a throaty voice. Her fingers kneaded the shrinking shaft as it returned to its flaccid state.

The Professor could only gasp and nod in reply. The man was totally drained. He sat there like the proverbial rag-doll. His arms hung by his side. His legs were limp. His breathing was ragged.