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Orgasmic Chemistry

My first submission...Here goes...

Leila told herself it wasn't a cliché. Seeing her professor—her married professor. Meeting at a hotel not far from campus. At least she wasn't his student anymore, she rationalized for the hundredth time since it had become clear that the fascination she had been unable to suppress had come out into the open. Why she didn't know, but he had claimed to regard her with a similar interest, and then they had concocted this god-awful plan. Her hands shook as she attempted to insert the key card into its slot.

She had wanted this from the very first day of class with her organic chemistry professor. In a large lecture hall, there usually isn't much interaction with professors and students. But as her physical attraction and intellectual admiration for him grew, she worked up the courage to attend his weekly office hours. She couldn't help but be one of the sharpest students at these small group question and answer sessions—partly because of her attraction and partly because of her love of the subject, she had hung on to every syllable with rapturous attention.

Accompanying this desire was a cavernous consciousness of guilt. He had made mention of a wife, a son, and a daughter in various anecdotes. She knew it was wrong to want to come between him and his family. She knew she was young and inexperienced and couldn't possibly give him anything he wanted or needed. He had twenty-five years on top of her virginal twenty, and she was not more than four years older than his daughter. Any relationship that might come of the affair would be reviled by her own family as well. Plus, of course, he was her teacher, her mentor—she could not break the sacred bounds of education. For all these reasons as well as the fact that she had no seductive bone in her body, she never ever would have acted on her fantasies, no matter how badly she longed to do so.

No, it took a very awkward, chance conversation at the semester's end, in which he asked her outright if she had a "crush" on him. She had blushed furiously, only too late realizing he was joking. And then he had surprised her with his own admission. He then suggested the hotel and she couldn't help but shyly accept his offer.

She had gone up first in the elevator to the room because although they could probably have passed for father and daughter, both were too jumpy to risk being seen together. She didn't have any hopes of getting a relationship out of the affair, not that her conscience would have allowed much of a relationship. Her desire ultimately outweighed her misgivings, however, and she steadied her hand to enter the suite.

Perhaps what scared and spurred her on at the same time was the fact that she was still a virgin. She had no idea what he expected from her. She saw herself as a fairly introverted nerdy girl with very average looks and hoped he did not somehow imagine her to be a goddess in the bedroom. Again, she began to doubt herself but couldn't help her wishful thinking again. She had never been more acutely attracted to someone before, nor had anyone she liked reciprocated her feelings before.

As she fumbled to turn on one of the bedside lamps and then questioned whether or not to turn it off again, a soft knock was made at the door and in came Dr. Heller. Despite the notice he had given, she still managed to jump a little.

"Sorry, I didn't want to startle you. How's the room?" He was easing her through this, almost like he'd done it before.

"It's...great," she managed. He walked past her to the armchair and set his backpack on the coffee table. Leila then awkwardly sat on the bed. She knew she had to tell him, even if it risked the chance of being with him. "I...have to tell you something, Dr. Hel—"

"Ben, Leila, call me Ben." When it's just us, of course, she noted he didn't bother to add.

"I...I'm," she stuttered again, "I'm still a virgin." There, she'd said it. When he didn't speak for several moments, she started blurting her apologies, "I'm so sorry for not telling you before—I completely understand that you don't want this anymore. Honestly, I wouldn't want to be with me either, especially in your position. I promise I won't bother you any further. I...I can pay you for the hotel." Her cheeks were burning—all she could feel was an enormous wave of shame for somehow misleading someone she admired so much.

After this melodramatic speech, Ben's eyes shifted from the carpet to Leila's, now brimming with tears. Finally, after running his fingers through his graying hair, he spoke, "Leila, I will admit that I did not think you could be a virgin, although you have always seemed innocent in some way. That being said, I have no desire to hurt you whether now or at some future time and place. There are no prospects for any kind of unrestricted relationship with me, so it is probably for the best that you go home now. I have already paid for the room and I take full responsibility for inviting you here."

Leila knew he was right, but it still hurt hearing her thoughts spelled out so coolly. She rose from the bed on unsteady legs and gathered her keys and purse. She couldn't bear the thought that she had disappointed her former professor. Leila turned to him, fumbling for one last apology and an appropriate good-bye. Before she could think of anything, however, Dr. Heller stood and walked over to her.

"But...this hasn't diminished my attraction to you. You're a very beautiful, intelligent young woman. If you still want this and if you're comfortable with it being a very limited encounter, then...well, I hope that you'll stay, frankly." He smiled kind of sheepishly at her, and then, with slightly less conviction than his earlier speeches, added "Of course, I'll respect whatever decision you make."

Leila could not believe how the tables had turned. Knowing he still wanted her was enough to set aside all her shame and guilt. With more daring than she thought she possessed, she closed the distance between them. "I want to stay. I want you," she breathed out. At this, Ben pulled her to him, her purse falling to the ground. He kissed her gently, sweetly, sending shivers down her spine. His kisses grew more heated, more zealous and he began leading them to the bed. Kissing along her jaw and the nape of her neck, he whispered, "If you're sure, I'll just be a moment." She nodded vigorously her consent once more and he procured a towel from the bathroom as well as a condom from his backpack.

They resumed kissing and began exploring one another's forms. Ben's hands found their way under her sweater, triggering the formation of goosebumps on her untouched frame. He tugged her sweater up further, helping her pull it over her head. He kissed down her chest, appreciative of her petite figure. She forgot to exhale as he cupped her breasts. Then she was the one removing his shirt, happily noting he was as toned and fit as she had surmised from his many tight t-shirts over the semester. Soon, they were fully bare, lying in each other's arms, kissing deeply. Ben reached down to apply the condom and spread the towel beneath them on the bed, then positioned himself over her. Leila said something to the effect of, "I'm happy it's you," and Ben gently inserted himself between her legs, slowly feeding more of his length into her, until she cried out sharply in pain. After a moment, growing used to the feeling of fullness, Leila pulled him in for a kiss, signaling him to continue. He began to increase his pacing while also varying his maneuvers and before long they were both in states of bliss. Ben collapsed contentedly onto his back. Leila didn't know how long they just lay there, minds vacant, but at some point, she noticed the blood and fleshy pieces between her legs. "I'm going to take a shower, Ben," she said softly but he just grunted in her general direction.

Under the stream of water of the showerhead, Leila's mind was once again filled. Overarching these thoughts this time, however, was the euphoric feeling of having successfully given up her virginity to her long-coveted professor. She wasn't at all sorry to have turned down her prom date's "magnanimous" offer two years before.

She began humming a little tune as she lathered up with soap. She turned to rinse and then felt a coolness on her backside as she realized the shower door was open. "Mind if I join you?" Ben was leaning on the door frame sexily, the sight of his member with her blood on it causing Leila to blush.

"I'm almost done, come on in," she chimed out. She had finished rinsing and was about to get out, dodging Ben's overt staring, but he pulled her back into the water, pressing her against the tiled wall.

His grip was strong as he raised her arms above her head. "You still have some sodium stearate on you. Let me help you with that," and he began soaping her up again, rubbing his palms all along her body. She had forgotten how to speak at this, her breathing once more in serious disrepair.

When his hand reached her navel, he asked with a glint in his eye, "What do you get when you hydrate propene via the acid-catalyzed pathway?"

Leila gasped and stammered out, "The...Markovnikov alcohol, so...2-propanol?"

He began pleasuring her with his fingers, "And what is the product of 2-butyne plus an alkali metal in liquid ammonia?"

The stimulation, both physical and mental, was almost unbearable, but Leila cried out between pants, "Trans! The trans alkene!"

Ben grinned and grasped at her clitoris, "IUPAC nomenclature?" Despite being overwhelmed by the pressure on her sex, she burst out, "Entgegen 2-butene!"

He stopped his machinations and bent his face into her neck, rumbling with laughter, "Did you just use the full German nomenclature? No wonder you got an A in my class!"

Leila, ever blushing, pulled his head up for a kiss, the water streaming over them. It was a passionate, wet kiss, growing sloppier and sloppier, as they dissolved into each other. Shortly, Ben began impaling her soapy cunt on his much-recovered member, his rate of reaction having substantially increased since breaking her hymen.

She cried out—this time in pleasure, "Oh, Dr. Heller, please fuck me!" to which he happily complied.

Panting himself in the steam-filled air, he continued their game, "What do we get when we react cis/trans 2-bromo-1,3-dimethylcyclohexane with sodium methoxide?"

"Oh god, professor, oh god!" She yelped, as he shifted her up off the shower floor and positioned her thighs in the air. "Uh, good nucleophile...good base...on a secondary haloalkane...so both substitution and elimination products. That's...SN2 and E2...ci...cis/cis 2-methoxy-1,3-dimethylcyclohexane with the inversion at 2 and, uh, anti-coplanar beta hydrogen elimination, so...1,3-dimethylcyclohexene...stereochem maintained at the 3 position. Oh, fuuuuuck!"

She began to contract around him, her tight walls ensuring that his own ecstasy was not long off. He came on her still soap-covered stomach. Finally, he let her down to rinse off.

She sighed and said, "So, that's what they call 'orgasmic' chemistry..."

He laughed—"Wait 'til you finish orgo 2, sweetheart!"

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