There is nothing like the feel of both genders savoring your heated sex in tandem….
Nothing like a couple in love, letting loose their lewd hungers, fighting one another for the first spurt of my seed.
I can feel the ever-changing, dueling rhythms, sometimes in synch, sometimes surprising in the turnarounds.
There’s the gentle scrape of his scruff on the underside of my mushroomed head, as he tentatively licks his first taste of precum. And her fearless press as she wraps her lips about the shaft and nudges him to swallow my balls, hoping to meet in the middle, and kiss each other near the base.
The slip-slide of both sets of hungry lips as they slink up and down the sides of my shivering shaft, French-kissing across the humming pole; and the secret finger she slips into my anal ring to bring me ever closer to a monster eruption.
In no time I will have a fist in each of their manes, hoarsely whispering a revolving series of “yes… so close… don’t stop… yes”
And as they drive me over the edge, I will fight to keep my eyes on them to witness their ravenous vying for every shot of fuck cream they have whipped up from inside of me.
I want both mouths coated in my cum, both tongues lapping at both chins, wantonly dripping with my willful, savory spray.
Then, I long to crumple down and taste my own spoils from their brilliant faces, in endless filthy kisses, digging into both throats for evidence that they indeed drank me dry.
She dared to ask her big brother in a very private moment in the dorm, if I thought her pussy looked really odd or really sexy without any hair.
As she tugged her panties down, there was a long crackling silence between us, and I swear I could see her sweet pink lips glisten with a hint of daring, instant arousal.
"I had it waxed. It hurt like a mother fucker, but it’s sooooo soft and smooth now."
Another bubbling silence hung with an unspoken “feel how smooth” in the taboo-laced air.
One gentle, cupped touch to her silken dampening curve; one soft sigh with half a moan from her throat, and we could not stop.
He told Meg that he would pay to see her and her girlfriend have sex. “Girls are so fucking sexy together. You fuck with toys too, don’t you? I mean, videos are okay, but I sooo wanna watch that in the flesh!!”
She giggled and brushed him off, as she quietly considered what her advantage might be in a secret arrangement with him.
"What would you pay?" she asked coquettishly.
"Any. Thing." he answered emphatically.
"Really. Hmmmmm, let me think about it." She mulled it over for a bit, with wicked intent, then said, "I don’t think Paige will mind, though it might be more fun to have it be our little secret."
She could see him fidgeting from his obvious erection.
"Mmmm, this might be fun", she thought to herself. After all, the girls were both bi, and to have a boy at their beckoned call, owing them anything they demanded, could be fun.
And he didn’t have to know that both girls were in on it ether. Secrets can work both ways.
So she made it happen for him, first time he watched them in the shower, while she watched him cum all over himself in the shadow of the doorway. Then he got to see them in action in the bed, toys and all, and the girls put on quite the show. Now he owed them big time.
The day that the girls exacted their first dirty price, he found himself bound to their bed, face down-ass up, while the girls were negotiating on who gets to peg his ass first, and how big of a dildo they should use.
"You know, he really does love to watch girls fuck." Meg taunted with a newly-minted, wicked idea. "Paige, roll that full length mirror over here. We’ll dress him up in a skirt and lingerie and he can watch both us fuck him as a girl. Oh, and I’ll get the video camera. That way he can watch it on vid and in the flesh”
He was squirming, and not necessarily in a good way.
And just before the wild fuck party started, Paige leaned in and whispered, “Be careful what you wish for, mister… you just might get it.”
This was his first male ass to ride.
He paused, drinking in the feeling, letting this new breed of desire register deeply. If he was going to do this at all, he was not going to hold back. In fact, with this sturdier body before him, he might let loose even harder…
He could feel the tense anal ring dilate and quietly plead against his dripping head for breach. That brought his attention back to the long, virile body, sprawled out willing for his use, a sturdy male form ceding to him, offering that tight raw portal as a new kind of carnal canal to bury his rising hunger inside.
It made him hum a soft mantra in his head, as he spit on his fingers and gave that taut opening one more helping of slickness.
The mantra repeated over and over on a simmering loop, as he spread those wanton cheeks under him, and fixed his weapon for the first full thrust
"This. Is Going to Be. So. Fucking. Good…."
He gripped the tilted hips beneath him, and drove intently through the doubts and into the feral, moaning heat.
By the time he emptied his first shivering load inside the snaking cavern’s grip, he knew that he would keep what he had just claimed.
He would add this to his hunt for feline plunders. He knew without a doubt that he would now always want both flavors of lust on his depraved menu.
(a little something penned and submitted recently, in response to a call for some dirty poetry, by the lovely tlcrmt)
You wait with wetting thighs
For the evening’s surprise
Who and how many will I bring
To taste and tease and taunt and devour
Promising you everything?
How long will you be able to bear the throng’s nudges to the screaming edge
Before your stirred feral hunger begs for a leap from the shivering ledge?
You will sing in ways you’ve never imagined while bound
And in the spattered, breathless aftermath, there will be just you and i
To tangle in the mess, as I reel you back in from the filthy heavens
Safe and sated and sound.
Ms. BBGL’s sizzling hot Bi Fantasy story… Very. Hot. Read.
The gym is nearly deserted this time of night. I was delayed at the office and debated about just heading home but I have some steam to work off. I make my way through the front doors, sign in and begin unbuttoning my blouse as I walk down the hall toward the change rooms. I am about to turn into…
Damn girl, I wasn’t supposed to be masturbating this morning… see what you’ve done? ; P
(for those who requested the next chapter)
RAIN DANCE - ACT 2
(Find Act 1 - HERE)
It was barely drizzling the next day, even though the forecast called for much more of a torrential downpour. But she knew he’d come, and she awaited his arrival, like the hungry lover she was, anticipating her stealthy mate, feeling that he was just a hint late for their tightly-timed tryst. She stood this time at the window, wrapped in her long terry robe, licking her painted lips, and softly wetting her other set below, with stirring, purred, anxious joy. From within the room, she steamed the glass with her warming breath, when she saw he was headed her way, and wrote in a backwards wobble, the Wonderland words: “E AT M E”.
He was startled to find her upright and expectant, not prone and self-impaling, but she smiled at him in a way that made the rest of his world of worries disappear…for now. He looked down at the fading message. He knew now what he owed her, and he was actually deeply relieved, as his burning guilt and hyperactive imagination had had him quietly terrorized, with all sorts of rabid visions of the things she might have demanded of him.
She opened the glass, and tugged him all the way inside the room, by the solid blue necktie. They stared just inches from one another in silence, until she pulled him gently towards her, and slowly suckled his lips, like they were glistening oysters hiding her favorite treasured pearl. When the two parted, she let out a long, luxurious “Mmmmmmmmmmmm”.
And this time she spoke, in a soft, but voiced manner. “Yes, those will do nicely.” Her British accent completely melted his insides, and sent his mind in yet another unexpected spin. ‘Oh God’, he whispered to himself in his head, ‘I was already hooked, and now this?’
She loosened the tie that she’d not yet let go of, and pulled it from his collar, but left it looped about his blushing neck. Then she began intently opening his shirt. “Jacket off, please” she smiled. “We don’t want to get you in trouble, do we?”
He began to try and explain…something….even he didn’t know what. She pressed one musky finger to his scruffed lips, and said calmly. “I know. I don’t know. And I don’t want to know. But you do agree you owe me, right?” He actually blushed full-faced, and then nodded a sheepish ‘yes’. His blush made her melt a little, and she kissed him sweetly again.
She unloosed his shirt as he tossed his jacket, and when she peeled his chest to bare, her anxious clit did a double pirouette. “Very pretty” she purred, as her hand traced the fit torso of lush masculinity before her. She suckled his nipples, and nipped at them a bit , then checked his blooming crotch for signs of arousal. She let out one more “Mmmmmmmmm, yessssss”, like she could still taste his seed in her dirty, white throat from yesterday’s sword-swallowing.
Then suddenly, she shifted gears, recalling the incessantly ticking clock, and said, “That’ll do…for now. You have work to do, mister”, and again that accent just had him tweaked, yet another gear sideways. With one swift eloquent movement, she dropped her robe to the floor, and as she crumpled to lie back upon it, she yanked lovingly at his necktie leash, the only thing adorning his upper body now, to join her on the voyeur’s sex carpet.
She pulled him to her face first, and knowing how her voice and accent turned him into a puddle, she gave him another taste, in “propah” British. “Do your best, do your worst, make me cum, my Shadow Man. Remind me how brilliant older men can be…please.” She kissed him with a thrusting tongue, then pushed him right down to her pleading, hardened nipples.
One taste of her and his cock was trying to figure out how to unzip his trousers with no hands. She was a scintillating lavender and cream flavor, with other wistful scents he could not quite place. Her nipples tasted like almonds, and thought he knew he needed to worship her every curve, the mere thought of being buried tongue-deep in her honey-drenched cunt, had him dying to dive down and devour her outright. But like a good and patient lover, he set about to please this lush wench, and overpay his obscene debt to her, in hopes of having a little leverage of his own. Having ventured to these depths already, he wanted to be able call a shot or two without losing her, if, and only if, his situation called for it.
He began to remember things he’d done to earlier lovers, since his wife was less fond of oral play, showing him some surprisingly prudish colors, after they were hitched. He tried not to think about what she hadn’t allowed, lest he do even more rash things than he was already mired in. And in pushing those thoughts away, he drove in full force to the task set before him. He had Rachel’s right nipple gently taut in his teeth’s stretching grip, flicking his tongue in feather-light speedy passes, and just as she thought he would let go, his finger curled into her buzzing cunt’s nest hive, and nuzzled the underside of her buzzing clit, until she wept sweet syrup all over his hand.
She gripped his hair, and tried to fuck his finger, but he kept it hooked right on her front end’s hot spot, tugging now and then at her pubic bone, and not giving in. He felt her ankle hook about his neck, and a soft hum whirr in her throat. Mostly, he was happy that he hadn’t forgotten some of those old tricks he’d learnt some time ago. When his mouth moved to her left breast, she whispered not to forget her back door. And like an obedient boy, that finger traveled downward, and hooked into the inside of her anal wink’s grip, and the two played tug-of-ass-war, while he primed her wanting breast.
When he let go of her nipple this time, she growled and tugged his face to hers, kissed and bit his lip, and hummed “Clever fucking boy. You do know your way around.” He wanted to say “It’s been awhile”, but before he could, she added “Mouth. Fingers. Everything. There. Both holes. Now, pleeeease.” And with fists in his hair, she pushed him right down to her arching hips, and her pink, slippery pussy puffs, already swelling with liquified lust.
There was one more hot shot of guilt that ran through him, before he drove his tongue right through those petaled cunt curtains. She thought he was just teasing her, and she loved that predatory perch, but he was quietly reminding himself that he’d already passed the point of no return by simply entering the room, so… why not enjoy the fucking buffet set out before him? His stubbled chin finally assaulted her, and his tongue began to paint figure eights and floral patterns on her sopping slit’s nerve endings, then he probe-thrust his long licker into her depths, as far as he could reach, and she wrapped a second ankle around his neck like a noose. He was not getting away until she’d had her fill, and he meant to give her that and more.
In no time, she had stuffed an errant pair of her own knickers into her mouth, to muffle her all too loud orgasmic arias. He was oh, so much better than she’d ever imagined he would be. His fingers were everywhere, toying in both holes, sometimes together, sometimes in opposites; sometimes hard and deep, other times slowly torturing. This was the planned lover’s oral test, and he had already turned the tables on the bold girl, and nearly had her pleading through her musky gag. She began to ride and pull at his face, like it was an unthinkably enormous horse phallus, and she was going to fit as much of it inside her as she could, before she burst all over it.
When he had both of her holes plumbed with the fingers and thumb of his right hand, he suddenly recalled something that he knew would set the fuse, and send her screaming into the dynamite box. He pinched the long finger deep in her hot little college ass, against his thumb that was in her sweet warbling cunt, the thumb he’d pressed intently to her pussy’s puddled floor, and in doing so, he captured her perineum membrane betwixt both digits, and began taunting it, in firm, slow massaging circles. Meanwhile, his tongue went into high speed flicks and swirls, until he eased them on purpose, then he would vibrate his hand inside of her, sending electric shockwaves up her Jello-ing spine.
He could hear her muttering holy obscenities from her stuffed mouth, and he knew she was just short of lift-off. He kept his rhythms steady, but gently rising, and added a soft, low hum against her bones. When her triggers finally hit, she did everything she could not to pound on the fucking floor. This was not the time to be interrupted, fuck it all.
He kept taunting away at her adjacent begging inlets, her hips levitated off the robed floor and her whole body shook, as she blasted through a multi-peaked eruption, cramming her cunt even harder into her mystery man’s face. She thought she might have even begun to squirt all over him…something this girl had near managed before… but didn’t really know if she had. It was just that intense. Either way, he was happily awash in her gushing cum honey, and as soon as she could focus, she nearly ripped his hair from his skull pulling him up to her panting mouth.
She kissed him hard and deep, then wrapped around him, still gasping for breath. He tried to wriggle away from her sopping wetness, lest he soak his trousers in a stranger’s cumwash. When she could speak clearly, she said “Where have you bloody been since I arrived. Never mind, I know. It’s been so lonely here being away, that I’ve fucking needed this for months now. Holy fucking hell, Mister Shadows. Please promise me you’ll do that again.” She licked her own juices from his face and smothered him in another kiss when he shyly nodded ‘yes’. What was he going to say? He didn’t want to promise anything, but….
She was wired, sated, but momentarily frustrated with his off-kilter embrace. When she looked down to see the pool of girl cum slathered over her pelvic grin, and no doubt soaking into her robe beneath, she understood. “Kneel” she commanded like the sex queen she was in this moment. Like a good puppy, he did. She unbelted him and tugged his trousers and boxers down, and gestured for him to step out of them and place them in the “Do not soil” pile, with his jacket and shirt. Then she pulled him down close, and tangled her legs about his naked ass. “I need you against, please, even just for a little, okay?”
They both began to roll and rock gently on each other, as the feel of their naked shamelessness seduced them into a further carnal reverie. “Well done, you, mister. Well played, and very well payed.” She kissed him with a lush soft moan. He was relieved that the debt to her had vanished, but their wriggling, naked proximity was making any imminent escape an utter improbability.
She let her hands explore his strong back, and reached down to grip his sweet ass with hungry claws. She even niggled about at his anal ring, when she complimented him on “that perineum move thing”, or whatever he called it. She teased him with questions about what he liked, being careful not to mention the other woman he was bound to. She taunted him with hinted promises of things she might do to him, if he’d let her.
One More Time, and then some…
His cock was full and rolling back and forth across her still swollen, oil slicked clitoris. She was headed for another bout of irresistible need, and was loathe to let him go. She nipped at his ear and softly pleaded with him to engage in an encore. “I’ll owe you this time, if you do…. if you can manage it in time.” He shivered, then dared to admit, that he had more time today, without further explanation. She didn’t need to know he had sent his wife on a long, important errand, that would take an extra hour or two, just for this tryst’s elongation. He could feel the shame soaking his soul, the way she had just soaked his face in her sweet, slippery filth.
"Brilliant!" she whispered. She sat up, and coquettishly asked him "Please make me cum, just like that, once more. This time, from behind. That’s my favourite, and no one’s done that to me in for-fucking-ever. Remember I’ll owe you - Big!" She knew he’d be hard pressed to remember the word "No" now. Then she whispered to him, not to forget to tongue-fuck her back door. "It’s very clean… just for you".
She turned her back to him, and wriggled down into that position, knowing he’d be battling with himself as to who got first shot, his mouth or his dripping cock. She craned her neck back as she spread her haunches wide. Two words was all it took “Eat. Me.”
She let his mouth have just enough to become re-addicted, then she stopped him, knelt up and caressed him behind her. She leaned back, feathering his hair, and in a soft luring plea, she said,”Promise me something, please, my rainy day man… promise you’ll fuck me. If not now, then soon. And if you want me to owe you forever, just fuck me in the rain.” The thought of him doing that to her, made them both weep pre-cum from between their naked genuflections.
She felt fear in his eyes, simmering against the nape of her neck. “It’s okay, lover.”she purred, “I know the perfect place, very near. And no one will know or see.” He began to breathe again. “Either way, Shadow Man,you need to fuck me, at least once.” His weakened will had already, silently answered for him ‘Damn right, I do’.
Without even knowing what he was doing, he made that verbal promise. The deal was sealed. She kissed him quickly, then flopped down, with her hot wiggling ass up, to be feasted upon once more.
She would hold him to that promise.
To Be Continued…
This is why she loved weddings.
There was nothing more deliciously dirty than doing unsavory, orgasmic things to semi-strangers in crisp, pristine formal wear… then, returning to the party, and licking up the mess while kissing the relatives.
If it combusted again with him, fine. If not, there were others to tempt into the lush grass for a quick suck or a good old feral rutting in the bushes.
After this one, she might try a girl or two, as dusk shadowed in.
(I was reminded recently of a well-received story I wrote one year ago, posted on another blog. With the new spring rains, comes a call for revisiting. ‘Tis long for some, yes, but here is Part 1 of 3. Let me know if and when you care to read Acts 2 and 3)
RAIN DANCE - ACT 1
The Unintentional Voyeur
She waited for him like this every day now. It only seemed to happen in the rain. Until it didn’t.
His front path always flooded, getting worse each time, so on stormier days, he began to walk up the rise, and ‘round to the back, passing right by this window, one he never before had reason to peer into. It must have been the light that day, that odd bit of sun, cracking through the dampened shadows, that caught his eye and drew it to the primal motion within.
He was the married man from next door, young, offbeat good-looking, awkwardly dressed in a decent suit, but carrying it off somehow. Quiet, masculine but with a kind face, and shamed, but hungry eyes when first he caught her hand movements through his preoccupation.
Rachel was a relatively recent addition to the neighboring home, an exchange student from the UK, and unabashedly hornier than the day was long. She loved reading sensual stories to the sound of rainfall, but it always made her body’s baser hungers swirl, and eventually her naked core was sending whispered missives to her gathering libido’s fury: “You need to be fucked in the rain…noooowwwww.”
This continually led to dropped books, lowered knickers, and sopping wet, digging fingers. Then, there was a fist in her mouth as she came, as no doubt someone from the host family might hear, if she didn’t muffle her filthy moans.
The two had never formally met, but they had seen one another in passing, nodded, smiled perhaps, in undistracted moments. Imprints were made, but nothing of note was exchanged, as of yet.
After their first drive-by lustfest, Rachel decided she didn’t want to know his situation, or even his name. It sufficed that her lithe form and rampant sexual vibrations were enough to pull this handsome joe away from his homestead reality, which lie only a mere paces away. As for Michael, the moment she unintentionally invaded his consciousness, the honey of her aura seeped into every dusky corner of his being, and the wet bees buzzed inside him incessantly, begging him to taste more and more of it.
The Accidental Incursion
The first time he wandered by the tall, un-shuttered panes, and had his life’s frail framework hijacked by the vision of her, she was in mid-masturbation, half-dressed, panties to her thighs, two fingers circling her slickened clit, then dipping deep and deeper into her levitating cunt’s nest bottom. He watched, mesmerized, and in no time started unconsciously rubbing himself through his trousers, unaware of anything around him, even his own rising heat and flesh.
When Rachel’s tongue lapped at her own mouth, and her teeth imprinted themselves on her bottom lip, she began to tug at the bottom of her shirt to pull it up. He was panting, huffing a circle of fog onto the pane between them, anxiously awaiting the new reveal…. when her eyes popped open. The two froze, locked in disbelief, deer in headlights, not one breath was taken on either side of the barrier… until she recognized his face, and almost half-smiled, unwittingly baring a secret little fantasy she kept about him, never imagining any reality ever to materialize. She’d certainly never envisioned this.
She stayed honed in on his drooling gaze, then, ever so slowly, she began to seductively move her shirt upwards again, letting her petite unharnessed breasts, play peek-a-boo at first, then perk into full view, spiking the electricity already hovering in the damp air. This time, as her rigid nipples emerged, it was he who was chewing at his own lip. The daring partitioned game was now shamelessly afoot.
She watched his every eye flutter and hand move, as she pulled at her nipples on fire, and intently fucked herself with an ever-rising fervor. She had already been close to the edge before he appeared, but now, with his rapt attentions on her every obscene, writhing thrust and tug, his hands’ rhythms soon synched to match hers, as he continued to half-consciously rub the growing bulge through his trousers.
She couldn’t tell if it was rain or precum, but it looked to her like the latter, as a dark spot grew in a widening circle under his belt line. The mere thought of making a man’s cached cockhead so wet, that he would soak right through his wollen suit pants, as she exposed her dirty self-pleasuring self, shot her right over the orgasmic edge. She nearly forgot to stuff her hand in her mouth, as she let out a raw fuck-me moan, that he could hear though the echoing glass.
When her eyes fluttered opened again, and her heart began to ease its pace down from her cum-rocket ride, he was still there. His mouth was open as wide as his raincoat. the stain under his belt had grown even bigger. He hadn’t cum, but his cock must have been soaked in slippery, promising pre-syrup. God, how she wanted to reach through the glass, unzip him and lick him clean.
She arched up from her lying down position, just enough to place her open palm on the glass. But as he reached to match hers on the other side, someone apparently called to him. His head jerked sideways, he yelled something back. When he turned back, his face was beet red, and he was stuttering, trying to speak to the half-clad, encased siren before him, but unable to form the thoughts or the words.
He gestured that he had to go, then his head swiveled away again, to be sure no one saw just where he was. Before he looked one more time at his sultry exhibitionist, she knocked on the glass. He spun back to her gaze, to find her one finger pointing to his belt. He looked down to see the tell-tale pre-cum circle on his suit pants, nodded, smiled as if to thank her, closed his coat securely, and scurried off, craning his neck back, as if to memorize her entirety in the nano-second he had left.
Rachel was deeply grateful that it was forecast to rain all the week long. She waited for him. This time, it would happen on purpose.
He, the good husband, tried to pass by the window without looking, but he heard the raven’s knock once more, and his heart did a triple backflip, half in caught fear, and half in a “I fucking thank the lord” prayer. They stared at one another for a brief eternity. Then, as time began again, she slowly peeled her panties off, as he watched through the glass. Rachel fingered herself, gazing endlessly into the dirty corners of his sexual soul. As she lifted her top to pull at her swollen nipples, she ran her fingers down the glass, begging for him to join her. He looked around, and unzipped himself. He was hard as a jousting pole, and thick and cut and beautiful. And in a wicked heartbeat, once again, he was already dripping in arousal, from the very thought of her.
Oh, how she longed to push her tongue through the glass, then catch his mushroomed head in her teeth… and never let go.
And yes, the window could open, but she knew it was too soon. The desire and the mutual show was enough… for now.
They locked eyes, and willfully bared their filthy, masturbatory trade secrets to each other, as they ferociously steered themselves toward voyuer’d mutual explosions. When she erupted, it made him cum unexpectedly, in jerking, grunting rockabye motions, spraying his seedlust all over her window, the carnal cream sending wafts of musky steam into the cool air.
He was shaken by his own misdeeds, but mostly by the fact that he had never cum so hard in his life before this. And he kew what that meant. He was fucking hooked with no cure in sight. He kept a wary eye out as he lingered, almost too long. But it was just long enough to see her lick her cunt-dipped fingers clean, and gesture to him to taste his own carnal flotsam. He scanned his surroundings first, then mirrored her, tasting himself for another to see, for the first time in his sexually sheltered life.
When he finally zipped up and sidled off slow as molasses, she cracked the window, reached out and stole some of his seed cream from the blushing glass, just to sample the flavor of his sex. Once she had, she knew that she would definitely need more of that; much more.
Third Time’s the Charm
The next day it poured so badly that, even though, in an effort to break the spell and regain his orientation, he’d promised himself he would not go near her window, his front path was a sheer disaster, and left him no choice. He was led back to temptation’s trail, past the siren’s song that oozed from the weeping panes, and dared him not to look as he hurried by.
Never mind that he’d half-consciously left work a little earlier, to make time for today’s ambrosial, peepshow play date. It was his own shuddering guilt that made him want to pretend it had never really happened. With his home in one eye, whipping up his denial, and her window in the other, fondling his crotch like an aggressive street whore, he might have stood in the street for hours unable to move. The rain’s fallout guided him gently to his own blissful ruin.
She was stretched out on the rug, naked but for her white knee socks, reading her book, like a naughty schoolgirl, nonchalantly waiting for her daily disciplinarian’s paddle to her misbehaving rump. And without ever touching herself, the sheer anticipation of his arrival, had droplets from her weeping folds seeping into the carpet. Had he been awaiting behind her, he could have slipped oh, so effortlessly, halfway to her back wall’s paradise, with nary a catch.
She, too, had prepared herself early. It was all she could think of today, because she had plans for them, beyond mere “show and tell and cum”. The taste of his seeded cream, that he left on her sopping surface yesterday, stirred the next level of wanton behavior in her, and she would no longer settle for less.
He tried to rush past, but once again, the ‘nevermore’ knocking rapped at his libido’s consciousness, and his already half-risen cock’s will, spurred on by his own burning denial, made him swivel and gasp to himself. How could she have known about his schoolgirl fetish (‘or did every man have one?’, he wondered). Never mind that. There she was, a Lolita come of age, her perfect little bottom begging to be spanked and breached and ridden. His face was also more than willing to be its perfect settee cushion, if she so desired.
In the first moments, she could see his fixation with her luscious rump, so she arched and wriggled it just enough to make him drop his satchel, and not remember the important papers within. She made one more lethal gesture, tucking her knees close to her hips, head to the pile while facing him, and the wide vee of her thighs, rising in a ‘fuck me now’ arch, as if it were headed for the dripping sky.
He was gone, surrendering to ever base desire he’d ever had, his other existence a mere mist in the thunder, as if he’d stepped into a parallel universe with a different name and life. She rose to kneeling, and faced him, pressed her heated breasts against the cold glass, and kissed the pane at his cock’s level.
She drew a rudimentary penis in her breath’s fog, then licked it. He shook visibly, then looked about like a spy being followed. He unzipped and unleashed. He was full and yes, again with glistening tear-dropped tip. She began to rip at her nipples and spank her own clit, and the lightning fire that ran up and down her flesh made her hips rock and beg for that cockpole, that whispered lewd promises through the forbidden barrier.
He was stroking and dribbling, his eyes fluttering now and then, when he wasn’t making sure that he, the masturbating watcher, was also being watched. The nearness of his other life, and the deeply dangerous game he was playing here, sent his soul into carnal overdrive. He couldn’t believe how much he was obscenely revved up from this act, living a new, dreadfully filthy scenario for real, soon to be blasting a college girl’s portal anew, with his shamelful depravity.
And just as that thought hit him, her hand reached to the floor and unlatched the window. He watched it as if it were occurring in slow motion, and before his mind conceived what was indeed in motion, she leaned out slightly, then her feline fingers slipped under his hand and flicked it away, as they wrapped around the girth of his luscious meat. She began painting her lips with his precum, using his shaft and head like a lip gloss applicator, with a wicked upward gaze.
She doe-eyed him from her naked kneeling place, and he could swear she mouthed the words “I want.” Her lips captured his swollen head, then popped it out again, then she insistently licked into his drooling slit. She began a rhythm, wrap-pop-lick, wrap-pop-lick. He steadied himself on the window’s frame, and once or twice forced himself to look around, though he was too lost in sensation to comprehend anything he saw.
She cupped his balls with an angel’s touch, then suddenly pushed her face into his pubic bone. When his umbrella’d tip punched past her throat’s welcome mat, he let out a long audible “Ohhhhhhhhhhh”. She hummed back in retort, and wiggled her face on him. There would be no turning back now, no matter who might be viewing. He might as well have been a mating dog, knotting and fully locked into his bitch’s nethers. Nothing could remove him from her angelwhore’s assault now.
She took him to the edge of the creamy White Cliffs of Dover and back, over and over, and when he began to mutter obscenities under his breath, she smiled to herself with her mouth full of him. Then she intently pushed her throat to lock onto his mushroom cap, gurgled and wiggled, then shoved a honey-dipped index finger past his boxers, driving it in hard, and wriggling deep into his unsuspecting ass’s tight grip.
He growled much louder then he meant to, and his whole body shook as he emptied a quart of spurting betrayal into his lewd schoolgirl’s gullet. She moaned as she milked every wanton gush from him, letting his cum dribble from the sides of her catnipped grin. He held onto the window’s borders to keep from buckling into the wet pavement below, though how he would do that with the girl’s finger digging into his ass, he hadn’t quite conceived yet.
When she finished, she took his still jumpy cockflesh, and smeared it all over her face, then deftly cleaned his rod off with her tongue, before tucking him back into his shorts, petting his thick meat, then zipping it away…. until another day, she thought.
She smiled up at him, with a face bathed in his sticky syrup, and purred at the sight of him still holding on for dear life. She stood slowly, their eyes whispering secrets to each other in the breathless silence. His gaze strayed for a moment, but only to drink in the visual before him: the face and torso of this ravenous sexual womanchild, soaked in his willful, wanton sperm. He dare not think of more than that in the moment.
She wiped her sticky hands on her luscious bottom, then feathered his hair and pushed his face to her breasts, as if to say, “At least clean those up for me. I’m keeping the face cream.” He suckled her nipples, and licked his spoils from her body’s petite curvatures. She moved him up to her lips and kissed him, then wiped the tell-tale sex gloss from his mouth. For the first time, words were spoken. Only three, slipping like whispering snakes from her cum-washed tongue: “You owe me.”
Once more she smiled and nodded, knowing better than he what he needed in this moment. She buttoned his coat, and turned him in the direction he needed to go, to get back to that reality he lived in without her, next door. He’d almost forgotten how to walk, so she gave him a gentle push, and off he went.
She had no doubt she would be paid back tenfold.
To Be Continued….
She was suddenly in the groove with this toga party idea at the sorority.
She was half goddess, half amazon, though she had not quite the stature for the latter.
She wondered just which of her new sisterhood would beg for a taste of her perfect creamy petite; and which favored one she would keep to handle the honey below.