Loving Ana by Shivaji Sengupta

Copyright 1999

Sex with students is something I have always avoided. I am a professor of literature, given to spontaneous outbursts of powerful feelings. Over the twenty odd years of my teaching career, I have had plenty of women students: young, romantic, attractive, brilliant. Some have even showed a curiosity about their dusky professor who reads poetry passionately. I have touched their young minds, warmed their sensibilities.

But avoided sex.

Eros is a great motivator, especially in the classroom. To those who have harbored an attraction for me, opened their hearts, desired hot blooded contact, I have looked into their eyes to give a silent message: "Let's create through passionate and intellectual contact, let's paint a rainbow of moods with words, engage in uncovering meaning. Let me touch your perfect body with my mind. Yes, I was able to sublimate their desire for me into passion for literature.

Until I met Ana.

It was spring in New York. Lilacs were in bloom. Ana came to study with me in early January, as we wistfully rang out the old year. This was a new term, and Ana was going to write her Bachelor's thesis on Postcolonial Literature. Being the only faculty member who is from an ex-colony, and with a specialization in its literature, I was considered the appropriate choice.

I had expected a young woman, precocious without life experience. Ana turned out to be a woman in her middle forties. Elegant, debonair. A face that exuded maturity and warmth. I was relieved.

Ana was about five feet four. She had a friendly, sensitive face, was a good conversationalist, with a remarkable ability to move from scholarly discussion to easy friendly chat. I soon discovered that she was also caring: noticed that I had gone through lunch without food. Would often bring me fruit juices when she came to the advisory hour. Being single again for a few years, I was touched by her concern for me as a person.

And she was a work horse. My way of working is tunnel-vision. I do not enjoy supervising others very much. I would chart out a course of research, identify for the student a point of beginning and expected the student to carry the ball from there. Ana fitted my expectation.

I realized also that on many levels Ana and I clicked. Both of us were workaholics. Like me, she thought of her work intellectually, appreciated my explanations because I gave her context rather than cryptic orders of "Do this! Do that!"

She would often bring drafts and bibliographical updates from the Internet and, without much intervention from me, weave in the work into her project. Sometimes I would simply describe what I had in mind with a few brush strokes on my easel pad. Ana had the capacity to quickly catch on. She would take notes, ask a few questions which invariably tweaked my interest further on the subject, and then would go back to writing her thesis.

Sometimes, she would simply come and ask my permission to read and write in my office during her advisement hour, thus allowing me to work on my book. I was immensely grateful to her for that. Other times, she would bring in lunch, and we would eat quietly, chatting about literature, this and that, personal stuff.

From her ring finger I knew she was married. In time I found out that her only, son fifteen years old, went to the Bronx School of Science, an elite school for genius students. She had two daughetrs, one about to graduate from high school, the other from college. She told me with a mother's pride that her eldest daughter wished to study feminist literary theory. Her husband was a mechanical engineer in a suburban General Electric plant, a union man.

Twice he was almost murdered because of union trouble, the last incident leaving him paralyzed waist downward. But he is a proud man, and would not relinquish his responsibility either to the family or to the job or, even, to the union. Moving around in a wheel chair, he worked, paid for the daughter's upkeep in college, and insisted on continuing to be the head of the worker's union. "He is a noble, upright man, doctor!" Ana said with a quiet voice that reflected affection and pride, but also a sadness.

Completely unaware of it, I began to think of Ana more than I ever thought of other students. This one was almost my age and I was beginning to think of her as a friend. I noticed her subtly sexy body, her largish, very feminine breasts, rose in soft gentle curves, maternal hips flared almost imperceptibly; a firm behind that quivered sensually when she moved, inviting contact. I wouldn't dream of touching her, though. The utter simplicity and sobriety of her clothes gave her a dignified appearance. I never saw her wear lipstick, a denial which somehow added to her sex appeal. Her lips, in their natural pink hue, was the embodiment of the natural, a sort of invisible nakedness. Tender, intimate.

All in all, she gave the appearance of a quiet, sober housewife, until you looked into her eyes. There in the deep brown irises, freckled with gold spots, a fire smoldered, something she was probably unaware of. Obviously, for her passion, like fire, was a good servant but a bad master. So she tried constantly to keep her passions in check. Her whole demeanor belied those quick-fire eyes. She was, it seemed, a little too quiet, especially in public, a little too practical, accustomed to think of others before she thought about herself.

For reasons not quite known to me, I was particularly attracted to her when she wore skirts which were of normal length, somewhere below her knees, because they hid and revealed her body in most lady-like ways.

Now that Spring had arrived, and New York grew quickly warm, she came in a couple of days wthout her pantyhose. What is it that the metaphysical poet, George Herbert wrote? "Liquifaction of her clothes"? Ana's summer dresses reminded me of those words. I had never seen any one so decently dressed look so utterly sensual.

Gradually, our friendship grew. I realized that going back to work on Monday mornings was not exactly a chore, but eminently more bearable because it was advisement day with Ana. I looked forward to our quiet lunches. Easily, I began to fall into wisps of daydreams...What if...If only once... Weeks and months passed like this and Ana's thesis progressed. Then, in April, we both realized that she would have to work harder to complete the thesis and defend it by May. I used to come in to work in my office on Saturdays.

One day Ana said that it was difficult for her to study at home with her youngest child and husband demanding attention. I suggested that she came to my office to study. Why the idea of her going to the library instead did not occur to either of us I do not know. We agreed on working together on the final chapter of her thesis on the following Saturday.

Brian, the security chief of the college lived on site. He informed me that he would be out most of the that particular Saturday and so he could let us be in the building only if we didn't leave for lunch or any thing else because that would lock us out. He would, however, let us out by 4 in the afternoon. Ana suggested that since we couldn't leave for lunch she would bring lunch. Alone with Ana for five or six hours in this huge edifice! I shuddered with excitement.

Saturday came.

Ana arrived wearing denim. My entire being stirred when I saw her sexy body, encased in tight pale blue, emphasizing every curve, the deep cleft of her womanly derriere, the soft bulge of her mound. Twin peaks. I did not hide my appreciation for her. She, it seemed, did not hide her pleasure.

But I am a dreamer. Ana sat down to study at her corner in the rather large office and seemed to be lost to the rest of the world. It was I who left my esoteric essay on desire in literature and the politics of control and went over to Ana to read a chapter that she had revised the night before. I sat down next to her, pipe in mouth, trying to look at my professorial best. Inside, I was jelly.

Our knees touched. Ana looked at me, her eyes cool, face, serious. Playfully, I asked her if she thought I was getting fresh. Her reply surprised me, "That is the thing about you doctor," she said pleasantly. "When you flirt, I am never offended. You are so gentle, yet childlike! I like it!" Encouraged, I placed my hand on her thigh, and felt the tight denim smooth fabric on the broad expanse of her thigh, just above the knee. She looked at me, her eyes, brown with spots of gold, darkening, betraying a deeply concealed passion. Ever so slightly, her tongue wet her lips. She smiled. She put her hand on mine making me incredibly aware of its warmth and silky softness. Then, catching me, completely by surprise, Ana lifted my hand and touched it to my cheek. Only her touch made me realize that it was warm and glowing.

But, almost immediately, she got up quickly and walked toward the shelves to check out some journals. Seated, I could feel a mild erection. At fifty-two my progress in these matters is slow. I just sat there, watching.

Ana went and squatted in front of the lowest shelf where the journals were kept. Her buttocks, tightly clad, spread out, challenging the seam between the cleavage. I almost came. I ran to the Men's Room, called upon my ever faithful friend, my right hand, and came copiously, spurting white semen into the toilet bowl. My head whirled.

Calmer, I went back to the office. Ana was now standing, looked immediately toward me, noticed the perspiration on my head and smiled. A faint smile trembled on her lips, passion welling in her eyes. She smiled like she knew exactly what I had done, sort of mock admonishing. With a handkerchief she wiped off the moisture on my forehead, in a tender motherly way. She said nothing.

Soon it was lunch time.

But before we actually started lunch there was another surprise.

Ana went to the Ladies' Room. Her return caught me spellbound. Gone were the jeans. She was wearing a lovely knee length summer dress, light green, the color of baby grass showing lovely round shoulders, the color of pale ivory. The fabric draped lazily over her body, suggestively covering the sensual undulation of her behind, bare legs.

The table was laid: fine bone china and tulip wine glasses; home-cooked food -- chicken cooked with delicate herbs and spices, creamy potato salad. Dry Soave.

We both ate quietly, dwelling upon the taste of the wine and just looking at each other. Ana seemed totally involved with the situation and yet was touchingly attentive to my enjoyment of the food. "More wine, doctor? Salad?" Lunch over, she made no move to get back to work. I was a bit high on the Soave but made a half-hearted suggestion about getting back to the work.

"Relax!" she said, "You have earned your rest! Now sit back and enjoy!"

Her dark eyes smiled with that wildness I noticed before, lips moved ever so slowly as she spoke as if in slow motion, her voice silky.

She took my hand and gently made me sit on the reclining chair in the office. Standing behind me, she began to massage my neck and shoulders, first softly, then kneading deeper. She bent oh so close to my face, over me bringing her heavy breasts against my cheeks. I reached back and touched her face. It was hot!

Slowly, I stood up and took her in my arms. I was surrounded by her, her beautiful, big firmsoft breasts crushed into me, our lips met hungrily, wet, spongy. Tongues darted out as I felt her mouth so hot, so slippery, the feel of her hard teeth a strikingly sensual contrast. Our lips sucked at each other, a sensual fleshly kiss that reminded me of dark grapes. Ana clasped my head with the palm of her hands and pulled me into her even more. My fifty plus penis nudged into her soft sanctuary, tingling my whole body and yet I felt utterly secure.

My hands roved of their own accord and settled on her behind.

"Oh....!"Ana moaned, her breath coming out with a raspy sound. Her eyes were closed. I caressed her behind squeezing each globe, my finger probing into the cleft, making her shudder.

She reached down and grabbed my tumescent muscle, pulled its stocky head gently and made me shiver. I could feel her breath coming irregularly as I gently pushed her into the recliner. There was no resistance.

There sitting before me, she removed deftly my trousers and underwear. My fat, little manhood with an oversized head was suddenly beginning to embarrass me when she took me full in her mouth, expertly, the whole of it, its bulbous corona notwithstanding, engulfing me in pulpy hot sesnation, as I stroked her tight dark, blond curls.

I gently pulled my penis from Ana's mouth and pushed her back on the recliner, then slowly lifted her light green dress up to her waist to reveal her pale, body now moist with a light film of perspiration. I saw her silken panties. Once more our eyes met. I don't know what mine were like but Ana's were soft, brown and tender, pleading. Her lips of natural pink hue parted revealing an innocent yet sexy mouth.

Trembling, I hooked my fingers into the elastic band and slowly slipped them down.

This was something that I had waited for months and months and months. Her mound covered with tight dark curls, and a few gray ones, were still untrimmed from the winter. Pale thighs bulged sensually out, blending in enticing curves into her upturned buttocks, the crack tantalizingly visible only in part. Here was Ana, my angel, companion, my love, naked for me!

My passion stood erect like Robin Hood's bow, tilting at Marian. Ana's face was a combination of excitement and embarrassment. It was clear to me that never in her life had she done this before. I knew how much she loved her husband, how absolutely involved she was with her children. But, here she was now, naked waist down, utterly vulnerable, utterly loving. Belying my wildest expectation, she whispered "Come to me, I need you!"

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I sat crouched in front of her, my face inches away from the core of her femininity. I still found hard to believe she was here like this, open in front of me. I saw her thick outer lips now, the left one peeking open, ever so slightly, revealing a pale pink. I spread them open to expose her jewel.

Lightly I licked, not her labia but the little valley of soft pubic hair on the side, next to where the thigh joins the groin. Teased, she moaned. I breathed into her. Her loins heaved just a little.

Then, suddenly, ferociously, losing control, I plunged in, licking her hard from her vagina to anus, making my tongue thick, dipping it in. I was conscious of Ana's body shivering, aware of her slow continuous wail. I sucked in her clitoris. Ana lifted her waist violently, letting out a huge groan and held my head tight. Her buttocks heaved up, giving me the chance to push my fingers into the crack, two fingers furrowing into the slightly corrugated flesh in the cleft, finding, then massaging the even more secret puckered opening. Ana sighed deeply.

As I caressed her seat of passion, I remember thinking of nothing but Ana's pleasure, I wanted her to feel as much as it is humanly possible to feel. I wasn't thinking of me, my satisfaction, nothing. Just Ana. It seemed as if the more she could feel me, the nearer I would be to her.

It was Ana who forced my head off her and, still holding my head but this time looking deeply into my eyes, asked,"Won't you come inside me, love? I want you so much!" She said this with such a longing, her eyes so dark and deep that I knew at once I had promises to keep, to Ana, her body her soul.

Standing up, I saw Ana's body, naked waist downward, her cunt glistening with her and my desire. She got up in a sitting position and unzipped her green dress, lifting it off in one swift movement. While she did that I saw in her arm pits the early cry of spring, wisps of the most exquisite light brown hair. It was at that moment I fell totally in love with her.

Ana next removed her bra, revealing soft, heavy ivory breasts, the darkening nipples becoming taut, turgid. The breasts, her angelic face had a mother's tenderness and a woman's sensuality. With such reverence I touched her bare bosom, as Ana impatiently pulled me to her.

A reclining chair is not the best place to make love on, especially in the missionary position. Still, lying in a heap as we did, I rubbed my penis up and down in between Ana's nether lips. With each rub she writhed sensually underneath me, this woman with a heavenly body, naked, and for the moment, completely mine. My short, fat member buried thickly inside her, finding sanctuary inside her tight viscosity, she held me in an urgent but most tender embrace. My whole body curled into a fetal like position so that I could take her nipple in my mouth. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Ohhhh!" she breathed, holding my face in her hands so lovingly, kissing my face over and over again, licking my nose, eyes, she said in a barely audible whisper, "Do it, love, I can't stand it any more! Oh! It's been such a long time!"

I pushed in, slowly, little by little in her hot, wet vagina, as she sucked me in pulling me in with w wild force. Even in that uncomfortable position, legs beginning to go numb, I didn't care. I was like a little boy greedily devouring his first sexual experience.

I reached all the way inside her, hitting her cervix, eliciting another desperate, delicious groan from my Ana. Settled, joined, breasts, mouths and hearts together Ana, my love, and I began to move, first slowly, then faster, then faster and faster, sweat breaking through her hot translucent skin, we began to move in unison.

Ana's face was contorted, eyes tightly shut, mouth open, a sensual tongue which licked her lips, they kept kissing the perspiration of my face away. We were two lives, as far apart as one could imagine, but in that vast classical edifice called a college, Ana, another man's devoted wife, and I, her professor made love in complete and utter abandon.

I held her to me as if my very life depended on her. Afraid that I will come and it will end -- perhaps for ever -- I made love prolonging every second so that it would not finish! I stopped moving in her, content just to be deep inside, feeling every twitch of her muscle, her every move, awash with her warm enveloping wetness, listening with a snug sense of security, to her heartbeat.

My stillness began to induce movements in Ana. She started to move, first just slowly, but then as I held myself hard against her cervix, Ana's movements became more and more urgent. She was at this time like a mare not yet broken in. I found it difficult to keep myself in her as her body jerked and quivered with the approach of her climax. Faster and faster she moved, becoming wilder by the second. Her face, desperately contorted, was beet red, tears in her eyes, her breath coming in short spurts until she shouted out her agony and ecstasy.

Her moans lasted a long, long time, each decreasing moan seeping into my skin as I stroked her hair, her moist and sweaty face. "Sweet love," she said, touching my cheek with a tender caress, an affection that only a mother is capable of, "You didn't come!"

"I will," I said, feeling mysef tingle again. "Ana, please let me see your behind! I have always imagined you without clothes just to see your ---!" Isomehow I couldn't bring myself to say the word, even felt some trepidation because I didn't know how she would react to the familiarity inspite of the intimate experience.. But Ana smiled and looked wistfully at me. "My behind," she said laughing a little embarrassedly. "I don't have the behind I used to have, my love, I am forty-seven and it is a little droopy! Even a few years ago, they were so firm!" Ana bit her lip with a slight embarrassment that made her look even more sexy. Then, she brushed away a stray hair on my face and said, "I wish I was young again, just for you."

"Ana, you don't now how comfortable and horny I feel around you. If you were much younger I might not have known what to do with you!"

Ana laughed and let me get off her body. Standing up, all my joints ached. It was amazing how I felt nothing while making love other than partial numbness in different parts of my body. I stood up.

Ana moved her naked, womanly body slowly around, facing the recliner's head-rest, her whole body, sensually, getting into position, the slight swing of her heavy, pendulous breasts, her stomach slightly bulgy, her waist with just a bit of fat in it. Ana bent her head on the chair like the English queen with the same name went to the block to be beheaded at her husband's command, my Ana's darkly blond hair cascading down her shoulders.

Then she demurely lifted her love-shaped glorious behind!

Oh my God! What a sight it was. Ana's buttocks raised high for me, her mentor, friend, lover, it seemed to me, in utter wantonness. With trembling hand and a once-again-erect passion, I touched it. Her silky smooth skin instantly rose in goose flesh. More confident now, I spread her thighs apart, parting the cheeks of her buttocks, getting my first look at the slightly shadowy, cleavage, and the shy, rosy hued anal orifice.

I bent down and ran my tongue slowly through the crack. She sighed. Again, I took a step back to look at her lovely, maternal behind, still round and sensual but also very tender. I licked her harder this time, letting my tongue linger on the cute puckered hole. I so much wanted to sink myself in there but worried that it might turn her off.

But Ana read my mind. Shook her bottom provocatively and pleaded, "Plase, please put it in there!" She said this so clearly, pronouncing each specific word distinctly, emotionally, that it completely took me by surprise. I never thought that Ana, of all persons, would utter such a request! My taut muscle gave a lurch, the stem painfully erect. But I still had to be sure it wouldn't hurt her.

"Ana, I am very thick, it might ---"

"No, no, please, I want it so bad, please push it in, please!" She was mewling, pleading. I could hardly believe my ears. A couple of times I thought may be all this was a dream. But no, here she was in the flesh, I slapped her bottom and made it quiver, here I was in my office. This was no dream.

I started to kiss and lick Ana's anus, slobbering over it to get it wet. I pushed my finger in and Ana quivered and opened her legs giving me a view of her soft, furry open mound, the pink nub of her clitoris peeping at me. In a flash, the scene from "Naked Came the Stranger," flashed before my eyes: Darby Lloyd Raines acting the part of the intelligent Gilly, showing herself, rubbing herself there in a frenzy.

I pushed my finger an inch deep and felt how tight her sphincter muscles were. They actually ejected my finger every time I eased my pressure on it. I removed it with a soft pop!

The office was smelling now of Ana's sex, the tell tale smell of anus. I placed mysel against the hole and applied gentle pressure. Ana moaned softly.

Encouraged I began to push in centimeter by centimeter making Ana mewl and whimper with passion. Not once did she try to wriggle away but screwed herself back into me right after she withstood the initial surprise of my entry through the back door.

Once properly in, I began the in-and-out movement, smoothly making love to Ana's motherly behind. She began to respond vigorously as she pushed herself as far as possible into my fat cock, grunting, throwing her head around wildly. I reached around her waist and moved my finger to her mound, one finger skirting through the bush, finding her hard clitoris, began to rub it in slow circular motion while engaged in steady anal intercourse.

The effect on Ana was electric. Her whole body reacted like it received a high voltage shock. She jerked upward but was thoroughly impaled by me. I never stopped rubbing her clit until Ana's body began to shudder incontrolably. Screaming my name over and over again she came. I made love in a frenzy, my jelly belly banging against her behind in rhythm with her groans, I felt a long, sharp, tingly sensation in my spine, felt the stream of my come shoot right through the stem of my penis, a sting in the underside of my bulbous corona and spewed out my come just as I was at the deepest recess inside her, I came spurting again and again high in Ana's bowels.

Ana was now crying, I was crying, rubbing my beard on her neck, squeezing her breasts lovingly, the buds of her nipples between my fingers, I stayed inside her for a long time, until my poor manhood wilted and was gently squeezed. It came out a wet, lifeless little thing, snuggling in nicely against Ana's soft genitals.

This time, I sat on the recliner while naked Ana sat on my lap, kissing me. She put on her glasses and looked so cute, like a little girl. I began to kiss her passionately again. Again, we made love, this time violently, quickly, Ana having a sharp, little orgasm, while gobs of my come overflowed her vagina and then trickled out again wetting my thighs. I couldn't believe our stamina. Later, stroking Ana's hair I joked. "Together we are 99 years old and look at us!" Ana started to laugh and couldn't stop.

Soon it would be time for Brian, the security guard's arrival. We began to dress quietly, Ana donning her jeans outfit again. There was a sadness in the way we put our clothes back on, one piece at a time. It was clear to both of us that, to some extent, we planned this assignation. Will it happen again? I looked at her face anxiously.

Ana smiled sadly. "I know you will belive me when I say I have never done this before, never been unfaithful to my husband ever. He has been paralyzed six years now. Being in the university has its advantages, there is never a shortage of propositions from faculty and students. But, until today I have never given in."

"Why me?"

Ana said nothing but gently kissed my lips.

That was almost a year ago. Ana still comes around to my office. We have not repeated our lovemaking again, but I see no change in Ana's attitude toward me. She says she loves me. But when I get horny and ask her to meet with me, Ana laughs in a destitute way and says, "My love, you know I can't."

"Never again?" I asked her one evening, leaning onto her back as she reclined on the window-sil in my office when the sun was setting beyond the deeply green forest. Ana didn't reply.

"Never again, Ana, never?" I asked, my hand resting ever so lightly on her behind. Ana did not move away. Gazed steadily with her brown-gold eyes into the darkly green trees and murmured, almost whispered:

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep, And I have promises to keep...