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Two in one day October 15, 2010

Posted by Leah in Cunnilingus, Fucking, Repeated hookups.
6 comments

I woke up this morning in Gavin’s bed. After my afternoon interlude with Dr. Williams, the horniness remained unabated. I masturbated myself while replaying the encounter mentally.

Lately I have been ignoring Gavin’s texts, but last night I accepted his offer to hook up a second time. We shared a bottle of wine at his place. The clothes came off. The best was when he had me stand on two chairs, legs positioned wide apart. He placed himself between them, and I lowered my pubis onto his face. His tongue stretched inside my cunt, and his jaws chomped. My pussy gushed.

Office hours October 15, 2010

Posted by Leah in D/s, Fellatio, Fucking, Masturbation, Repeated hookups.
3 comments

I sat on the floor across from his open door, legs upright. He was in his office with undergraduates, answering their questions about his lecture. It took him a few minutes to notice me. Behind his desk, he smiled. Positioned as I was, he saw into my bouncy black skirt. I had removed my tights in the toilet when I arrived and balled them into my backpack along with my sweater. The panties were bright white, silky, shiny, and nearly inconsequential; they showed as much of the lips as they covered. My chest pressed forward, brushing against my thighs, as I read an article and waited.

In ten minutes, he had ushered the students away and invited me inside.

“I was in the neighborhood,” I told him, as I deposited the backpack by the bookshelf. In fact, this was an impromptu visit.

He shut the door and locked it.

I went to my knees. He pulled the cock from his pants and stuffed it into my mouth. Almost at once, the thickness and the quality of the flesh transformed. Once the prick was erect, I rubbed its length across my upturned face. I kissed his balls. He didn’t want a prolonged and sensual experience, however. His penis stabbed past my lips. Hands fisted in my hair and controlled the movements of my head. The crown muscled into my throat. It caused my neck to bulge. He pounded his cock at me, smashing my nose, rendering my lips swollen and puffy. The hard floor bit into my knees and the top of my shins.

The telephone rang. Saliva spilled over my chin when he withdrew the penis from my lips.

“It’s my publisher,” he whispered, covering the mouthpiece of the phone. “I absolutely have to take this call.”

Hastily, he buttoned his trousers and fastened the zipper.

The last time I had visited his office, I sat under his desk and sucked his cock and masturbated myself with his feet while he Skyped with colleagues abroad. It is easy to vary the stimulation to keep a man on the brink of an orgasm. I had taken him to the edge repeatedly, but wouldn’t let him complete. This time I decided he would erupt while on the telephone. As before, it was his job to command his reactions during my blowjob.

He dug papers out of his briefcase and sat in the rolling chair at his desk. I placed myself between his legs, unfastened his pants, and continued.

Sitting parallel to the desk, he mostly listened on the telephone, answering the woman on the opposite end of the connection only in monosyllables. Because his hands were tapping away on the keyboard, I was bereft of his guidance. He was distracted by the conversation anyway. The hardness of the erection diminished perceptibly. I did not wish to lose his tumescence. I abandoned the gentle tease of the tongue around the head and along the underside and forced the glans back inside my throat. Swallowing around the gag reflex, my lips made a tight seal about the shaft, and I bobbed up and down as hard and as fast as I could. His pelvis magnified and receded as my head descended and retreated. The shift in the field of vision made me dizzy. I shut my eyes while I worked him. Fingertips batted at the sac.

Whatever else he may have been thinking about, the stiffness returned to his cock. His grip tightened on my shoulder to steady himself. Eyes closed in extreme concentration, he wheeled the chair forward and backward minutely as the head pressed at the back of my throat.

I allowed the cock to slip out momentarily. It made a satisfying pop as I pulled it free of my lips. I looked him directly in the eyes. “I want you to come for me,” I whispered. “Come in my mouth. Come for Leah.”

At hearing these words, he jerked the phone away from his face and gave an expressive groan.

Once more, I face fucked the shaft rapidly. The glans burst into my throat within half a minute.

Semen leaked from the corners of my lips. It dripped onto the floor and splattered the side of his shoe. I swished the come in my mouth and spread my jaws to show him the briny whiteness that had coated my tongue. I gargled and blew bubbles with the come before swallowing. Bending low to the ground, I vacuumed the seed from the floor. The side of a finger swept the leather sole of the shoe. My tongue ran along the edge. I didn’t want his spendings to go to waste.

Harsh breathing had resonated above me during my oral ministrations, but he had remained otherwise silent, successfully schooling his responses and concealing the fact of fellatio from his publisher. After cleaning his penis with kisses and long, catlike swipes of my tongue, I stroked the shaft back to nearly maximal hardness and placed a condom at the edge of his desk.

“I will wait here,” I said, assuming the seat opposite the table. I brought a foot onto the cushion of the chair and hitched my skirt up. Drawing the panties to one side, I fingered my pussy. His stare bored into me while the index finger spun tight circles around the clitoris. The blowjob had me galvanized already. The state of being on display for this man, exposing myself to him, showing him how I liked to masturbate myself multiplied my arousal ten thousand fold. My fingers swam in my cunt. I could have creamed at any instant, but deliberately chose not to let go. The wet, squelching sounds, which were perfectly audible over the voices on the telephone, and my soft and desperate moans filled the office. He stroked his penis while he talked to his publisher.

Once he hung up, he was instantly over me. He dragged me from the seat and threw me over the desk. Piles of papers crashed to the floor and scattered. Pausing only long enough to roll the rubber on, he filled my pussy. An ecstatic groan escaped my lips on entry. It felt so good to have his cock inside me at last.

“You be quiet,” he insisted, and cuffed my cheek with flattened fingers.

I placed his hand on top of my throat. “Fuck me,” I demanded. The penholder on the desk clattered to the floor.

He placed one leg against his shoulder. The other hooked around his back. My buttocks was at the edge of the desk. I gripped the side of the table while my lover rammed into me. As he pummeled me with his cock, his hand constricted my neck.

Because I had not allowed myself to orgasm while I masturbated, a swift climax seized me straightaway. The muscles in my pussy collapsed around the shaft, wringing it. Since he had spermed only half an hour before, while his thighs tensed, he managed to forestall the incipient explosion. His movements became frenzied though. The desk shook. I liked its solidity, how the wood was rigid and unforgiving beneath my back. He clutched the ankle of my black leather boot and pulled the right leg down against him as he penetrated my pussy. Heedless of the admonition from before, I squeezed my tits through my shirt and moaned loudly. The scent of sex was heavy in the air. It blanketed our exertions.

“Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me,” I chanted. I compressed my vagina about the shaft.

The cock was relentless within me. When I came a second time, the muscles kept on twitching. The nerves in my pussy were alive with vibration. The discrete instant of climax stretched out into seconds. My cunt flooded. The orgasm went on and on, the walls squeezing the cock beyond any conscious volition. The aftershocks were also endless. Their ripples continued for minutes afterwards.

His eyes glinted at me. His underarms were dark with sweat. I noticed the muscles in relief under his shirt. I saw the animal lust in his face. He bared his teeth. His jaws had clenched. The lips sprayed spittle. “Oh, you slut!” he named me.

“I am your slut,” I agreed. “Use me. Take me. I want your big and powerful cock to own my cunt.”

He grunted.

I clenched the front of his shirt and compelled his body down. “Harder. Fuck me harder,” I begged.

He responded by speeding up his movements. Then he deliberately slowed down. “I am going to come, Leah.”

“Yes, please: give me your come. Come in my tight little pussy. Come inside your dirty slut. Come. Come for me. Just come. Please.”

He ceased holding back. He hammered me with the cock. The surface of the table rocked below me.

He shuddered when he bottomed out. His balls slapped against my buttocks as they emptied. The explosion electrified the lines of my body. I felt it in my cunt and in my spine. I shivered under the force of paroxysm in a near orgasm of my own. My legs lowered so that they dangled from the table, and I pushed off the top of the desk with my hands. My arms wrapped his back. With my chest pressing against his, I held him through the last of his spurts.

Once we disentangled, I unwrapped the penis and cleaned the package up. I sucked the semen from the sides of the shaft and rubbed the soft glans over my cheeks and forehead. My hair was disheveled. I was a complete mess. I straightened up as well as I could and made my exit. The next time, whenever that might be, I promised to let him spank me again.