I was secretly hoping it would happen, even knowing how bad for me it would be.

I’m a Social Studies teacher at Marina Junior College in Southern California. I’ve been here for twenty-two years. I’m forty-four years old. I’ve had some good times with the students. Some have been bright, friendly and eager to learn and to grow as people. I’ve been attracted to a handful of the girls.

I knew when I was going to college that someday I could get into a mess like this. I probably was asking for trouble every time I looked at a pretty student. Twice I even made overtures toward them. I asked one girl out for coffee and the other girl I kept asking to stay after class so we could do extra work on the course material. I never really got anywhere with either of them romantically. But I did get close enough to them to smell their hair and their bodies. I was able to brush up against their arms and their necks – feel the softness of their skin. I’ve done such amazing masturbation while thinking about them and what we could do together. It’s their legs that I crave. I think about their thighs and how soft they must be. And I look at the muscles in their calves and imagine them wrapping them around me, especially around my neck. I become so hungry for them. And I wonder if they know what I’m feeling – that I’m not a rapist or fucker – that I’m a kisser and licker and lover of their legs, whether or not they would tease me more or less than they do. Because they do tease me – flirt with me. I know it’s only to get better grades. They’re not really interested in starting anything with me. A couple have flirted just to torture me, I know. The sadistic ones are the most dangerous ones because they’re more likely to get me into an uncomfortable position where I could make a grave mistake. But, if they’re really sadistic, they will probably just laugh at me, rather than turn me in.

I probably was in trouble with Liz even before she was my student. I teach sophomores. When she was a freshman I noticed her. She was a cheerleader and she was tall – maybe five feet ten inches. She stood out from the other girls, not only because of her height, but because she was so beautiful. Her face was immaculate, white, smooth. Her hair was long and yellow. She had obviously had breast enhancements and her bust was massive compared to other girls’. They were perfectly shaped and she took every opportunity to show them off. But it was her legs that, to me, made her different from other girls. They were very long, very full and muscular and very sexy. On Fridays, when the cheerleaders would wear their uniforms to class, the short, pleated skirt revealed lots of Liz’s legs. I lived for Fridays. When she was a sophomore, I’d look for her in the hallways, walking to class. Those low-cut tennis shoes without any socks set off her perfect ankles and calves. I tried not to stare. She was so gorgeous. I’d watch her flirting with every man she passed and some of the girls, too.

Last August, when I learned she would be in my class, I began shaking and crying. I didn’t know how I was going to handle performing for her every day. I could never keep her entertained or interested in the subject, I was sure. I just hoped I’d be able to behave myself enough that the other students wouldn’t notice how much in love I was. The first day of class was the worst. I didn’t know where I was, what time it was, or what I was supposed to do. All I could think of was that Liz would come walking through that door at any minute and I would be a puddle of goo. It eventually happened. Most of the students were already in the classroom, seated. Liz came in at the last minute. I had arranged the students in their seats so there would be only one open seat – in the front row. Liz seemed to know it was for her and sat down. She was wearing a white skirt and a red blouse. And her eyes lit up when she looked at me, looking at her. What a smile! She quickly positioned her legs so I could see most of her thighs. She sat sideways so I couldn’t see between her legs very well. I imagined that would come later. I sputtered and stammered through the first days’ lesson. And Liz didn’t speak to me for about three days. Finally, one day after class she approached me.

“Mr. Otis, Hi.”

“Hi,” I managed to get out.

“I don’t know if you know this or not. Oh, what am I saying – of course you know it. I’m a cheerleader. And we have to be places at odd times. You know – practices, catching rides to games, going to perform at different places for different things. So I might have to leave suddenly, or arrive late sometimes, or even miss class once in a while.” Just then she bent over so I could see she was wearing a lavender bra under her pink shirt. The bra was very low-cut and exposed part of her nipples. She showed them to me. “So I hope that’s going to be OK with you, Mr. Otis. Maybe I can make up the time later – like after class or something.”

I’ll have to admit I was speechless for too long. Finally I found myself saying, “Sure, Liz. That sounds fine with me. I know you’re busy. Just check in with me whenever there’s a serious problem. The small stuff – don’t sweat it.” I smiled at her. I wanted to sound official and serious but I couldn’t.

Liz looked at my eyes – right through my soul. I was embarrassed at what she saw. “I’ll do what I can, Davey,” she said, then turned and walked away.

No student had ever called me “Davey”. They all had called me “Mr. Otis”. But Liz knew she could call me whatever she wanted. My fantasies about Liz had been that she would be my girlfriend – my lover. I dreamed of kissing her deeply and about her wanting me sexually. I wanted so much to taste and penetrate that amazing body of hers. But she was beginning to make it clear that she regarded me as someone she could manipulate and use for her amusement without permitting me to be sexual with her. She had started to manifest her power over me – to embarrass me just for her fun. It was only the beginning.

The next few weeks went by uneventfully. Liz would wear amazing clothes, of course. And she would give me a good view of her body. Either she would wear a skirt and open her legs in the front row so I could see her panties and thighs. Or she would cross her legs and turn to the side so I could see a large portion of her hips and ass. Occasionally she would wear a very tight sweater that made her tits look huge – which they actually were. Or she would wear a sheer blouse and a bra underneath. And she would walk by me to make sure I could see her bra strap and the precious part of her chest that sloped downward inside her bra strap. I was transfixed by her bras and swore that someday I would own one.

Eventually I had to get closer to her. I was dying without her. She later told me that she was waiting until I came to her. She knew that signified I was desperate for her. So I caught her at the end of class and told her I needed to see her after school that day. She said, “Not today, tomorrow.” Of course I told her that would be fine.

The next day at about 3:30 Liz walked into my empty classroom. I had never seen her look so amazing. She was wearing a white dress. It stopped at about eight inches above her knee. It was buttoned all the way down the front, except the top four buttons were unbuttoned, revealing a black bra – a very small and sheer black bra. And when she walked, the bottom of her dress opened up in the front, revealing a glimpse of her black panties. She walked right up to me at my desk and said, “Hi, Sugar. You wanted to see me?”

Even though I was sitting behind my desk, I was sure she could see my boner pushing out the front of my pants. I stammered and eventually said, “Liz. How nice to see you. Yes, I want to talk to you about some of the material you’ve been missing when you miss class. Make sure you’re up to speed on it.”

Liz laughed a little and looked right through my eyes. “Is that right, Mr. Otis? I thought you just wanted to check me out, like you do everyday in class. But now we’re alone and you don’t have to be so careful about it. Why don’t you come out from behind that desk and show me what you really think of me?” Another giggle. I had never seen her so animated. Her eyes were flashing. Her mouth was wet and watery. Her breasts were heaving forward, towards me. She sat down on top of a desk and opened her legs up so I could see the entire front of her panties. She bent her legs backwards at the knees and grabbed the bottom of the desk with her feet.

I stood up and came out from behind my desk. My boner was pushing my pants out in front. I could see Liz staring at it and smiling. “I was going to ask you if you think I’m hot, Davey. But I can see my answer right there.” And she pointed right to my crotch. I said, “I’m sorry, Liz.” I didn’t know what else to say. She jumped on that. “Sorry? Why would you be sorry, Honey? You’re just a man. You can’t help yourself. You’re in love with me, aren’t you? You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

I wasn’t ready for questions like that. So I stammered, “I guess so.”

Liz was quick to say, “You guess so? You guess so you’re a man, or you guess so you’re in love with me?”

Now I really didn’t know what to say. I’m sure my face was bright red. But Liz seemed to be enjoying herself so I played along. “I guess I’m a man, Liz.” This made her laugh very loudly and long. I was afraid she couldn’t stop. Then, “But you’re sure you’re in love with me and want to kiss me?” She laughed again.

“Well….uh,” I stammered.

“C’mon, stud. This is your big chance. Tell me. Right now. Tell me. I’m ready for it.”

“Yes, I love you, Liz.”

“See. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Not nearly as hard as your little boner there. And what else?

What else?”

“And I want to kiss you.” I couldn’t believe I was saying these things.

“That’s amazing. I didn’t know that,” Liz said. Then she followed with, “I knew you wanted to lick me. But I didn’t know you wanted to kiss me. You’ve had romantic fantasies about me for how long?”

“Uh, about a year or more,” I said.

“So you’ve been thinking that we could be a couple? That somehow we’re going to end up in bed together and I’m going to want you to fuck me? Is that about it, Davey?”

I was embarrassed. But, on the other hand, what man wouldn’t have those thoughts about Liz? She was gorgeous, smart, funny. Basically she was every man’s dream. “I didn’t think of it as fucking. I thought of it as making love. I respect you too much to think of it as sex,” I admitted.

“You’re delusional. Or just crazy. Do you really think I would want you to touch me? I could never stand it. I would puke. You’re ugly, old, poor and just disgusting in every way. I have men lined up just to date me. You wouldn’t even be allowed at the back of the line. I thought you were smarter than that,” Liz said.

I guess I hung my head a bit. But I finally said, “I was hoping. That’s all. I’d look at you and see my dreams come true. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry, Liz. I’ll be careful not to bother you again. Let’s just forget it. Come to class tomorrow and I’ll try to be objective with you – treat you as any other student,” I stammered.

Liz looked at me. She had a serious look of thinking over my proposal. Finally she said. “I could do that. I could pretend you hadn’t made me sick, talking about touching me.” She gave a little shiver. “Uh, how gross! But I’m not going to let you off that easy. You’re going to make it up to me. You’re going to pay for making me sick. Do you understand?”

“I’m not sure, Liz. What did you have in mind,” I asked.

“Well, for starters, tell me about kissing me. Tell me what part of me you would most like to kiss. And be honest. Don’t say my mouth. We both know that’s a lie, isn’t it, Davey?”

This was getting way out of hand. But I couldn’t stop now. I sensed that Liz was taking control of me and the situation. She would use this opportunity to her advantage. I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of game Liz was playing, but I suspected that if I didn’t play along I would be sorry. So I said the first thing that came into my mind. “Your gorgeous ass. I want to kiss your ass.”

Liz was hysterical at this point. “Haha. Haha. That’s so funny. Like I’d ever let the lips of a pathetic, miserable ugly shit like you near my perfect ass. You are living in a dream world.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” is all I could muster. I spoke to her with respect because she was obviously in charge and much stronger than I could ever be.

“From now on you’ll call me Mistress Liz or Goddess Liz. Those are the only things you are ever allowed to call me. Except in class. You can call me Miss Liz. You and I will know it’s short for ‘Mistress Liz’. But that will be our little secret.”

“Yes, Goddess Liz. Thank you, Goddess Liz,” I said.

“Now, you really want a taste of me, don’t you, Baby?” the Goddess asked.

I was shocked by this young girl’s perception and her courage to use such explicit language. But I was also impressed with her mind and how it worked. I found myself saying, “Yes, Mistress Liz.”

“Get on your knees and crawl over here to me,” she commanded.

I obeyed. When I reached her feet she said, “Look up at me. Now beg to kiss my ass. Tell me how much you love it and love me.” As I was making a total fool of myself, telling this young girl how she was everything to me and her ass was what I wanted to kiss more than anything on the planet, I thought about how amazingly happy I was. Even though I was being humiliated beyond belief, I was close to the body of the girl who I loved. I was professing my love that was true and honest. I could see her legs and her feet. I could almost touch them. And I could see her slit through her sheer panties. She was so beautiful, so gorgeous, so feminine.

Soon Liz tired of my words and gave me instructions. “If you love me so much you must love my feet. They’re dirty and sweaty and I need them cleaned. So lick the bottoms of them until they’re clean, then begin to suck my toes and clean between them with your tongue, bitch. You may suck them as if they are cocks. I know you’re good at that, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, Mistress Liz. Maybe,” I responded.

“Maybe? That surprises me. I always thought you were a cocksucker. You look like one and act like one. Maybe you’ve always dreamed about it but haven’t done it yet. Is that it, Honey?”

She had such a wonderful voice. She could make me say or do anything just by talking to me. “Yes, Goddess Liz. You’re correct, as always.”

“I thought so. I can tell when a boy wants a cock in his mouth. Most of them do. Now lick and suck.”

Her feet were smelly, I guess. I didn’t noticed. All I noticed is that they were wet and I had part of Liz in my mouth. I couldn’t believe my good luck! Being so close to her is what I had dreamed about for a long time. I hadn’t planned on having her toes in my mouth. But…it was a start, wasn’t it?

Just as I was finishing sucking each and every toe on her left foot and was about to go to the right one, I heard a noise that sent shivers up and down my spine. It was the opening of the door to my classroom and some people walking in. I was totally mortified. It could have been the Dean or some other students. Whoever it was who would see me like this. I would lose my job.

“Heh, Baby,” Goddess Liz said.

“Heh, Liz,” I heard a female voice say.

I glanced up and there were two other girls standing within four feet of me. They weren’t my students but I recognized them. One was Tamara, a black girl who had a gorgeous face and a lot of junk in her trunk. Another was Sammi, a girl who looked a lot like Liz, but wasn’t as busty and was a brunette and was shorter. She was very pretty.

“I see you have this bitch under control,” said Sammi.

“I’m just starting with him. We’ve got a lot more training to do. But he seems willing enough. Aren’t you, Baby,” said Liz, patting my on my head.

“Yes, Goddess Liz. I’m very willing,” I said.

All three girls laughed as Liz said, “Now finish sucking my little cocks, Darling. I don’t feel clean yet.” I obeyed with more fervor than before. The girls carried on a conversation as if I wasn’t there. They talked about some boys and going out later and going shopping somewhere. But they said nothing about this teacher who was on his knees in front of them, sucking toes. It was as if I was a piece of furniture. Finally Tamara and Sammi left, leaving me alone with my goddess. As I thought I was done cleaning her, I looked up at her eyes.

“That wasn’t bad for a first try, doggie,” Liz said. “We have to get some rules down before I leave. Number One: I’ll see you when I want to see you, not when you want to see me. So never tell me to meet you anywhere at anytime. You got that, piggy?”

“Yes, Goddess Liz. I understand,” I said.

“Number Two: I probably won’t be coming to class anymore. I’ve got better things to do. But you’re going to give me an ‘A’ as a grade. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mistress Liz. I understand.”

“Number Three: As a treat to you, I and some of my friends are going to let you do things for us. It may be worshipping our bodies as you did a little today. It might by washing our cars. It might be blowing our boyfriends. It might be buying us things or giving us money. But you will obey without hesitation. Or you’ll never see me again, under any circumstances. Is that crystal clear to you, you stupid cunt?”

I was so impressed by Liz’s strength and courage. She was so young, yet so in charge of me and the situation. How did she get this way? I would never be able to deny her anything. She was so much stronger than I was in so many ways. And I adored her. I loved everything about her. “Yes, Goddess Liz, of course. I’ll do anything you say.”

“Good. I’ll call you when I want to use you. Oh, and one more thing. Are you still hard?”

“Yes, Mistress Liz. You’ve made me hard.”

She giggled. “You’re not the first little boy to say that. OK. Stand up and unzip. I want to see it.”

I slowly got up off my knees and stood up. I proudly unzipped my fly and pulled out my semi-erect cock to it’s full length. Liz poked at it with her foot. Actually, she poked at my balls.

“Nothing special. I was hoping for more. Oh, well. It doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?”

I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing.

Then Liz screamed at me. “I asked you a question, bitch!”

“No. No, Mistress Liz. I’m sure it doesn’t matter. Thank you so much,” I stammered.

“Oh, and one more thing, piggy. You’re not allowed to cum until I tell you that you can. No jerking off, although I’m sure you want to very badly. When you go to sleep at night and play with yourself, thinking about my legs, there will be no cumming. If you do, you’ll never see me again. Is that clear? And don’t think I won’t be able to tell, because I will.”

“Yes, Goddess Liz. It will be difficult, but I won’t cum.”

“That’s my baby,” she said. “Now tell me how you feel about me one more time and then I’ll leave you.”

“I love you so much, Mistress Liz. You are everything to me. You’re the center of my universe. You’re all I ever think about. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman or a person. I’d do anything to please you. Please, someday, let me worship your perfect body. Any and every part of it. I crave it. I need to lick and suck for you, like your little puppy. I am your bitch. Now and always.”

Liz said nothing. But she reached into her purse and pulled out a device and hit a button or two on it and I heard my words played back to me. Now that frightened me more than anything ever has or ever will. She had me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be had. But I guess I had volunteered, hadn’t I?

This had been quite a day for me. I woke up knowing I was in love and hoped that someday I could kiss and make love to the girl of my dreams. I went to sleep that night knowing I would never get close to Liz as a man dreams of being close to a woman. And now my career and my life were at her mercy. I had lost all hope for true happiness. Yet I was somehow full of life and thinking about what Liz might have planned for me next. I imagined things I hadn’t dared think about before. What I didn’t know is that Liz not only had thought about such things, but was confident she could make them happen. She was right.

It’s a Saturday evening, and I’m feeling feverish.

I take off my heels as I enter our home, and as my mind is elsewhere, I set down my keys and purse. Maybe it was the dirty things you whispered in my ear last night. Maybe it was that we didn’t get to see each other for lunch, and how the last time we did I let you take me against the kitchen sink.

Sometimes though… I just can’t quite help myself. It was a long day at work, and my mind kept drifting off below my skirt. Now I’m walking into the bathroom, and I take down my hair. Looking in the mirror, that playful glint is definitely in my eyes. I turn around, and there behind me is a black porcelain seat (you never did question what I was thinking when I bought it), on a white porcelain throne. The lid to the seat is down, and I idle for a moment, feeling a little antsy. Maybe I don’t mind that the lid is down, and maybe I want to use it as an excuse. I’m sure later you’ll remind me that I’m often hungry for excuses.

Leaving the bathroom, with the lid still down, I switch my course and slip into the kitchen. From the pitcher I pour myself a large glass of tea, and I take it with me into the bedroom. Sipping every so often, the layers I was wearing are removed. Starting with my sweater, I expose my arms to the warm air. Then I unzip my skirt, and drape it across a chair. The tea tastes sweet and fruity. Rolling it softly in my mouth, my thoughts drift to your appreciation of saltier fluids. My fingers undo the buttons on my blouse, and my hair brushes against my barely covered nipples. I shiver as the blouse comes off, once again, the fever in me rises.

I wrap and tie my robe, and take the empty glass back to the kitchen. Checking the clock, I can see you’ll be coming home soon. This time I choose two wine glasses, and fill them both. With one in each hand, my robe opens slightly as I walk through the house. Passing by the bathroom with its open door, I let myself look at how the lid is still down. Feeling a little hotter, I start to notice a growing need. Did I mention I forgot to let myself go before driving home?

Our glasses are on the table, but mine has a lip mark already. I’m sitting and fidgeting a little. Didn’t you say you’d come home earlier? Surely you can’t know what I’m up to. Surely you’re not letting my need get stronger on purpose. Trying not to get bothered, back to the kitchen I go. There’s got to be something to help me cool down.

Looking around, there’s nothing in the pantry or fridge that seems to stand out. Then I open the freezer door, and can’t help but grin. You got some more of that sweet and salty ice cream. That’s exactly the right thing.

I scoop some of it into a bowl, and hear the door open. Damn, I wanted to meet you in the living room. You hear me in the kitchen, and enter the room. I put the ice cream back up without seeing you, and you come up behind me. You nip at my neck, and I smile. Maybe you’re feeling feverish, too.

We say the hello’s and the how was your day’s. I spoon you some of the ice cream, and you open your mouth invitingly. I see you letting it melt, and can only imagine you tasting the salty clusters in the mix. I loose focus, and get distracted by how full I feel. You asked me some question about my day, but I must have missed it. You tilt your head, and it looks like you’re thinking that something’s going on. But I laugh, and lead you into the living room by your hand. You don’t need to know just yet.

We sit down, and I hand you your glass. You say thanks, and then ask me if there was anything I wanted to do tonight. Ah. With the spoon raised to my lips, I realize this is what you asked when I was distracted earlier. Do I just tell you the dirty thoughts that have been filling my head? Do I tell you what I plan on doing with that face of yours? I’m looking at your face, and wonder if my eyes give it away. I pretend like this bite of ice cream needs another moment to savor it, and leave you hanging. You move forward, and open my lips with your tongue. You flex it around and against mine, and I close my eyes. They’ve probably said enough.

I tangle my fingers in your hair, and you take your mouth south, nibbling my neck, and grazing my bra. The robe falls open more, and you slip your warm hand under it. Maybe you didn’t know what you’d find, but when your palm moved across my belly, a noise rumbled from your throat. Your hand stops, just above my panties. You press down firmly, but gently. I moan. You figured out the game.

I wriggle out from underneath you, vacate the couch, and take a victory drink of my wine. You might have figured out the game, but you haven’t won your prize yet. You watch me make my way across the room, and I see you have some ice cream. I turn the corner, pass the bathroom, and bee-line for the bedroom. Just as I plant myself on the bed, you come in the room, ice cream in hand.

I watch you stalk towards me, with eyes like prey. I inhale, and notice my desire dampening my panties. You set the bowl down on the table, and crawl towards me. Readying myself, I pounce and wrap myself around you. We kiss, and your hand finds the sash that lets my robe fall away. I loosen your collar, and work on the buttons down your shirt. What is going on in that head of yours, I wonder while you excitedly flip us over and unclasp the satin bra. I try to distract you, but when your hand comes back near my panties, my stretched insides do a little flip as you press on them. My voice rings out in your ear and I take a moment to calm myself. You take no such moment, and your hand disappears from view.

It comes back, and you insert two of your fingers in my mouth. I start to fight against the intrusion, and you pull them back out, letting them rest on my lips. My mouth recognizes the flavor, and I realize that you dipped them in ice cream. I coo, and dart out my tongue to lap at your fingers. We’re watching each other, and you seem pleased. I am, too.

Another sudden movement. Your hand goes away again, and with my mouth open expectantly, you trail your newly covered fingers down my breasts, over my swollen belly, and just to my thighs. My toes curl- it’s so cold! Swiftly, you bring your head down and begin to suckle. Trying to relax from the chill, I writhe in the sheets while your hot mouth moves down.

Starting with my breasts, you fondle and lick. With effort, I glance down and see the white creamy trails disappear, replaced with the warmer wetness of your saliva. Your breath hot on my skin, you take your time moving down to my rib cage. I’m coiled like a spring, trying not to pant. My mind is causing a ruckus. Wasn’t I supposed to be in charge tonight? I plan on taking the moment back from you, but with the anticipation of you worsening my need with your force… Ok. I let you finger my mouth again and decide to enjoy your ministrations.

With one hand you grasp my panties, and with the other you’re stirring up my fever, pervertedly stretching my lips with an additional finger, letting me gag a little while I moan as they move in and out. But as you pull off my last piece of clothing, and your hair slides down my torso, I gasp. God, could it be that your mouth is what I yearn for most?

Using suction, and teeth, and turning your tongue into a strong poker, you nearly drive me up the wall while attacking my oh so full bladder. I struggle against you, as waves of need roll over me. I clench my pelvis, feeling that dirty desire to just let go. It’d make such a mess on our bed. Hot, fragrant, and it’d make us glisten like honey. You know now what thoughts you’re stirring up in my head. The hand that threw my panties across the room snakes to my mound, searching for the spot that might just send me over the edge.

I rake my nails across your shoulders, bucking against you. This is torture! Withholding my orgasm, I take a deep breath. You didn’t know what I wanted to do with that face of yours, but now it’s time. You must think I’m about to let myself cum, because you relax your grip. Oh, not quite yet I won’t.

I beg for something bigger for my mouth, and while trying to not let me get too far from your nimble fingers, we change positions on the bed. Now I’m on you, working your cock in my mouth, honestly delighted to have the much better member to suck on. Pulling out the tricks, I lure you into taking more of a moment for yourself. You groan, and I imagine you picking your head up to see my spread legs right in your view. Still working on my clit, you sneak a hand around and slowly apply more and more pressure on my bladder. I’m so worked up right now, so, so close. Moving my head back and forth on the length of your cock, pausing a second each time to give the base of the head just a little more love, this alone could light my fires. I feel you struggle to keep your neck up so you can eat me out. You’re panting, and alternating between more focus on my clit, and more focus on my belly.

A memory of earlier today pops up, while I was at work, too tempted to finger myself right there, already worked up because I was naughty and read a story or two. Being brought back to the moment, we’re both bucking, but your neck has won and you can’t manage to lap at my pussy anymore. That’s my cue. I pull back from your cock, and it makes an audible ‘Pop!’ as it leaves my mouth. A strand of beaded saliva trails like a spiderweb from my mouth to your head, snapping and dripping after I’ve sat up fully. I raise my tailbone, and quickly plant my sex over your mouth. My thighs rest on either side of your ears, and I feel your breath warming my asshole as you struggle to breathe with just your nose. With one hand I squeeze your cock, and with my favorite hand, I play with my clit, just above your chin.

Rocking on you after you realized you could fuck my pussy with your tongue, you let me be the star of the show. Through my panting and moaning, I rapidly speak out to you. You better be ready, because you tortured me so much. I feel you nod weakly underneath me, trying to catch your breath in this position. Still going at my clit, I shudder as I let the peak come over me. Pressing down, I give myself sweet, sweet release. Pissing in your mouth while the orgasm overwhelms me, I force myself to keep on pleasuring myself while there’s still a stream. Feeling your jaw moving while you’re gulping, your nails dig into my thighs more and more as I continue to release into you. You start to shake your head, trying to tell me to let up. I rock forward on your face, which gives more air to your nose, but I keep my pussy locked in. No chance.

Your nails are raking now, and I can see the pink welts raising on my skin. I really did have to go, after all. Maybe I am feeling generous now that my need is dwindling. Maybe the devilish thoughts about wet sheets still have my fancy. Whichever it is, I raise up from you slightly, and halt my flow. You gasp for air, and I can hear the wetness in your mouth. After you’ve mostly had a good intake of oxygen, I squeeze your cock harder in my hand and start to piss again. Caught by surprise, you sputter but try to keep it all in your mouth. I sit on your face again, and continue pissing without caring if you’ve adjusted yourself to cover me entirely. Bending at the waist, my mouth envelopes you and I work in earnest. My thumb and index finger wrapped around your base, the rest of my hand curls to fit. I pump my head up and down with fervor, and undulate my tongue for a fast and strong tempo. Drool drips down my fingers and lubes you for my hand- which is keeping up with my head. I am swift, and I know how you want to get off.

The warm afterglow brightens my body, and my bladder is thankfully finally empty. You’re wet underneath me, and we’re both enjoying the sounds you’re making. You’re bucking at me, and just when your hips do that jerk, I remove my hand and swallow the length of you. When your cock pushes past the back of my tongue, it throbs repetitively and I just keep swallowing.

My eyes blink open and I can hear you sounding almost pleased to the point of pain. I open my throat and let you slide out. With my tongue I try to lick up some of the fluid from around my lips, but there’s really not much to be done about it. Running a hand through my hair, I sit up and get on my knees, turning around to face you.

You look so much better than my fantasy earlier today. Your cheeks look warm, and your hair’s a mess. Your face is more wet than mine, and much more golden. So relaxed now, and looking so satisfied. I take your head in between my hands and kiss away some of my droplets. You grin, knowing how dirty I love being for you.

Laying together, basking in the afterglow, I let the evening’s lateness become noticeable to me. I yawn and shift closer, finding a nook in your shoulder to rest on. Closing my eyes, just as I get comfortable, you turn your head to mine and whisper to me. Seems like you’ve got a growing need, too.

May 2018
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