He says things like, “Yeah baby, give me a show” and tells me how pretty my pussy is. It gets me so horny I can hardly stand it. He positions himself between my legs and rubs the head of his dick on my clit.
“I want your big cock inside me,” I say, feeling bold. I’ve never talked like this to anyone before. It feels kind of awkward at first, but I like it, and by the way he growls and slaps my ass, I think he does too.
The head of his dick feels more like a fist when it pushes against me. I gasp. For the first time since my dress came off tonight, I’m nervous. I’m wet as hell and yet his leviathan isn’t budging.
Oh my god, it’s not going to fit. After all this build-up and anticipation, we’re not going to be able to have sex. It’s disappointing to say the least, but it also makes me a little sad. It wasn’t just about experiencing his beautiful dick and the fantasies I’d had after watching his video. After spending time with him, it became more about being with Loche, my teacher, a man I trust and admire.
He leans down, gently biting the back of my neck, and whispers, “I’ll be right back.” His warm breath sends a chill down my spine.
“Wait, where are you going?”
His steps thump down the hallway. What the hell is he doing? He’s only gone a few seconds. When he returns, I look over my shoulder and see that he’s holding a jar of organic coconut oil. Taking a handful, he slathers it on his cock. I’m momentarily entranced as I watch him slowly jerking his rod, the light catching the oily sheen. It really is the most beautiful dick I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
He gets into position again. I try to relax as much as possible. I fill my lungs, then slowly let it out. This time, when he pushes, the head slides right in. I jerk forward, a bit surprised by the pressure and feeling of being stuffed to capacity. It’s almost uncomfortable, how much space it takes up inside of me.
“Damn, your pussy’s tight,” he says, as he eases in more.
My eyes are pinched tight, and I bite his sheets. He takes his time, taking much care not to hurt me. When he pulls out there’s a hollowness that make me feel empty and I want him back inside, filling me up again. After a few minutes going slow, my body has gotten used to this massive intruder and now it’s not enough to go slow. I’m primed and ready for whatever he has to give. It’s time to take off the kid gloves.
“Fuck me,” I tell him.
He pauses, and I think I’ve shocked him. There’s a smile in his voice when he says, “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Trust me, I’m ready.”
He squeezes my ass and gives it a hard slap before he thrusts harder into me. I yelp at the sudden sting of pain, but I like it.
“You feel so good,” he says.
I grab handfuls of his sheets, trying to hold on as he pounds me into the bed. Each time he does this, my engorged clit grinds into the mattress, reminding me of those times when I was just discovering my sexuality and I would masturbate by humping my pillows. It’s a thrilling, wonderful feeling to be full of cock while my clit still gets plenty of action too.
That deep, aching throb is there again, waiting in the background. The same sensation I felt when he was using his fingers in the kitchen. I’ve never had an orgasm from being penetrated before—only from outer play. Having both, it’s more intense, and way more powerful. It’s explosive.
I try to keep the orgasm that’s building up at bay by relaxing my muscles; I want it to last forever. But it comes barreling toward me. There’s no stopping it. I cry out as it takes hold. My entire body quakes, shaking the bed. Wave after wave of rampant pleasure hitting me hard enough to make sparks in my vision.
Loche lets out a feral, animal sound and pushes hard into me, bottoming out, almost painfully so, before going still. His cock pulsates as he dumps his seed into me. I can feel the warmth of it coating my insides.
I’m not sure what to do after we’re done. I don’t want to overstay my welcome so I stand up, his cum dribbling down my leg. My muscles have liquefied and my limbs feel useless, barely holding me up. I can definitely see now why some people walk funny after sex.
I look around for my dress before remembering I left it in the kitchen. Great. I’m going to have to hobble through my teacher’s house naked.
Loche lies on his side, his hair tousled and sweaty, looking at me. “Where are you going?”
He has welts on his arms from when I’d clawed at him during my first orgasm. I vaguely remember doing that, but I was half out of my mind at the time. I feel like I should apologize, but that seems a little awkward. Thank you for giving me the best finger fuck of my life. I mean, wasn’t that the point of all of this?
“Back to my dorm,” I say, trying to maintain some semblance of grace even though right now I just want to flop down on the bed, spread my legs to let the cool air in, and just revel in the afterglow of amazing sex. Believe it or not, after all of that, I could still go another round.
He laughs and rolls onto his back. “I see how it is. Use me for sex then leave,” he says, mocking insult.
I feel myself blush. “I’m not familiar with one-night-stand etiquette. I don’t know what happens next.”
This time he actually does look hurt. “One-night stand, huh?”
It’s difficult to maintain eye contact while I’m butt-ass naked and trying to cover myself with my arms while not being obvious about it, but I manage. “Isn’t that what all this was?” I ask.
He ignores the question and pats the space on the bed next to him. “You can at least lie here long enough to catch your breath.”
I tell myself not to do it. Just go back to the dorm and normal life before I get sucked into something I’m not ready for. I don’t want to develop feelings for someone I can’t have. We had a fun night. That’s it. Just walk away.
But I don’t walk away. As much as I know I should, I can’t.
I nod and climb under the covers next to him. He kisses my neck, then my lips, and then we’re at it again.
I wake up at dawn, the sun yawning above the trees outside the window. Loche has his arms around me. The room still smells like sex and it’s turning me on. We’re spooning. The clock by the bed says it’s not quite six in the morning. It takes me a full ten minutes to unravel myself from his arms. Somehow I manage to break free without waking him up. Our marathon must’ve worn him out. I’m exhausted myself, but it’s hard for me to stay now that I’m awake.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watch him sleep for a moment. The covers had come off some time in the night. His flaccid dick lies across his leg. Even soft it’s bigger than most get when they’re fully erect. I’m so tempted to reach out and touch it.
His cheek is pressed against his pillow, giving him fish lips, and he snores lightly. He’s so adorable. I want to lean over and kiss him, but I’m afraid to wake him up. I need to get out of here before things get awkward.
Creeping down the hall, I grab my dress and put it on, holding my stiletto heels in my hand to keep them from clicking against the tile. I can’t find my underwear anywhere so I decide to leave it, and lock the door behind me when I leave.
Instead of calling a cab, I walk. It’s a comfortably cool morning, and I take that time to think about the crazy night I had. I’m sore from the pounding I received, but it’s a good kind of sore. The kind of ache I could get used to. Unfortunately, it was only one night. I can’t imagine a world where I could actually have a relationship with my teacher. Though I’m over the legal age of consent, there are rules against student-teacher relationships and we broke every single one of them last night. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over a tryst.
The cold cement feels nice on my feet. Something cool between my legs would be nice at the moment too. Some salve or balm, a frozen bag of peas, maybe. We ended up having sex two more times before falling asleep. I couldn’t get enough, and if it weren’t for the limits of my body, I would’ve gone all night with him.
As I’m turning the corner, around a wall of
perfectly trimmed shrubs, I run right into Serena. Takes me a minute to realize who it is I’m looking at and why she looks so familiar. When it finally hits me, my breath catches and I fight the urge to run the other way. She’s wearing a baby-blue, velour tracksuit, her hair pulled up in a messy bun on top of her head, while a Yorkshire terrier at the end of a leash shits on someone’s lawn. I look at the dog with its flashy blue collar and top knot, the blonde fur with dark roots, then at Serena. They look oddly similar.
Figures that she’d live in this neighborhood. That must be how Loche knew she and Chad were spoiled rich brats. They’re practically neighbors.
She immediately bursts into laughter when seeing me. “Oh my god, are you doing the walk of shame right now?”
I have a feeling my face is as bright as my dress. “No, I always walk around in heels and a dress at six o’clock in the morning,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. There’s no sense in denying what’s so completely obvious.