Authors note: This story takes place about a year before chapter 1, the story of John and Maggie’s meeting, and eventually first time. Thank you to everyone who has patiently awaited this chapter. If you’re looking for a quick sex story, skip to the end.


John opened the door to the optical office and its little bells clanked against the door, sighing to himself for leaving his glasses on his bed during his nap yesterday. His alone time on Tuesday afternoon was disrupted.

“I’ll be with you in a just a minute, sir,” came a woman’s voice at a nearby desk. She was helping a young girl get fitted for her first pair of glasses.

John followed the sound of the voice to a sweet brunette in her mid twenties and exchanged smiles with her. “Sure,” he said roaming to the excess of men’s eyewear on the wall. He didn’t need new glasses but there isn’t much to do to pass time in the optician’s office.

He looked over at the desk from afar, specifically at the store associate, sneaking little glances as she giggled with the young girl. The optician showed the little blonde girl the mirror, “You’ll be rockin’ at school now,” she said.

The optician was sexy in the girl next-door sort of way. A woman who would bake for you and blow you while her delectable treats were in the oven. She was young, later mid twenties, but old enough to have seen the world and develop her life. She wasn’t terribly young, but compared to himself at thirty-eight, its was an acceptable age difference.

John tried not to stare and occupied himself as if he were picking out a pair of glasses. He tried on a few pairs that he couldn’t really waste money on with the mouths to feed at home. His ears listened to her voice, soft with a slight hint of southern twang, as she went over insurance information with the mother.

He was able to glimpse at her in the mirror when he was trying on frames. Her lavender blouse continued to draw his eye. She was professionally buttoned up, not flaunting her cleavage, but his mind strayed to where that small strip of skin led.

He fumbled to put back a pair of glasses on the back light wall, distracted by the sales girl’s alluring smile. His eyes were drawn to her glossed lips and pearly whites. He casually slipped his glasses back on his face and rubbed his mouth trying to sidetrack his thoughts, “Sloppy Joes, or spaghetti for dinner…”

As he stole peeks at the woman his glasses kept sliding off his face, reminding him why he was here.

The associate got up with the girl and her mother and led them to the register. Her movements drew John’s attention; he quickly admired her dark purple skirt that hugged her hips and thighs, flaring out around her knees.

While walking behind the counter, she looked over at her waiting customer, “What can I help you with today, sir?” she asked.

“Just an adjustment, take your time,” John said pleasantly. He wasn’t rushed from being in the presence of a striking younger woman.

She smiled back to him, genuinely thankful for his courtesy.

She went about her work, explaining the forms to the girl’s mother and paying her out. He watched how she interacted with her customers. Gracefully, was the only adjective that came to mind.

Her brown hair danced lightly just below her shoulders in soft layers. Her breasts gave the chest of her blouse a bit of a snug fit. He didn’t mind. It made her curves stand out even more.

He shook off his thoughts; he still had to talk to this woman. He saw her smile a cheesy grin with the little girl and thank them for their business. It might be because he hadn’t been properly laid in nearly a month, but he couldn’t help but ogle the features of this stranger.

“Let me see if I can fix those glasses for you,” she said kindly.

“I left them on my bed and one of my kids thought it would be fun to jump into bed to wake me up from my nap,” he said with an uncomfortable chuckle, approaching the counter.

The associate raised a brow and smiled, “Your kids attack you while you’re resting? That is so unlike anything I’ve ever heard about kids,” she teased him. “Well, let me have a look and see what I can do.”

She looked him over quickly. A man in his late thirties, some grey speckling in his brown hair, good height, his nose was large but it fit his strong features, and pretty darn handsome in a black sweater-vest, gray shirt, and tie. “Well hello there, handsome,” she thought to herself.

He came up to the front of the counter and took his glasses off his face, thanking God his vision wasn’t terrible and he could still look at the sales girl. He handed his spectacles to her and squinted at her etched silver name-tag, “Thanks, Maggie.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” she said looking at the bent earpieces. “I’m going to use the heat and bend these back into shape for you. I do have glasses, just wearing contacts today. You can trust me,” she winked.

Maggie smiled as John chuckled at her comment and turned around. She took a few short steps to the machine and turned it on, as she walked her hips swayed gently.

John got a slightly fuzzy, but good look at her legs for the first time, he looked down to her nude stockinged calves, “Are those stockings or pantyhose?” he wondered.

Maggie bent over just a bit as she used the machine, the slit on the back of her skirt opened up and he got a glimpse of lace stocking tops on her thighs. “Stockings! Fucking goldmine!” his inner voice screamed.

Suddenly his mind was invaded with visions of her bent over the counter and him plowing her from behind with her skirt pulled up over her hips. She continued working and he fantasized about the color of her bra and panties, if she was a moaner, if she talked dirty, and if she was wearing garters.

Maggie felt his eyes on her; enjoying the attention, she smiled to herself. She purposely bent over a little further and arched her back just a little bit more than she needed to. Her ass lifted up in the air for him, nonchalantly drawing more attention to her as she bent the earpieces back into proper shape.

His heart sped up a little and he closed his eyes, committing the view of her curved ass and hips to memory. His mouth had gone dry as he admired her body.

John’s collar felt tighter around his neck, his mind running rapid as he waited patiently, and his cock stirring under his black slacks. He imagined pulling on her brunette mane and spanking that round bum as he fucked her juicy pussy. He wanted to fuck her on top of the counter, her legs pulled back so he could dig deep into her holes, her lavender heels above her head.

He wanted to fuck this young woman properly, ravaging her body and make her scream. His cock was swollen and strained against his slacks. He wanted to do things to her he could never get from his wife.

Maggie turned around and John coughed. She smiled a knowing smile, blushing a little. “You should be all set, lets take a look at these on your face first,” she said a bit flustered, giggling at herself.

John leaned over a bit and let her slide his glasses onto his face, closing eyes to clear his thoughts. Maggie bit her lip in concentration sliding her fingertips along his temples, setting the earpieces behind his ears.

His nostrils opened, breathing in her scent as she moved in closer. She smelled like pure and clean soap. No fruit or flowery scents, just honest soap. She smelled natural, heavenly and intoxicating. He looked down for a moment and caught a glimpse of her breasts underneath her shirt, pushed up in her bra with shiny black satin cups. His inner voice praising the view as her soft, delicate hands adjusted the glasses carefully on his face.

“Look at me,” Maggie said taking her hands away from his face.

John cleared his throat, thinking he’d been caught looking. He raised his soft green eyes to hers. The hazel of her eyes was a gentle blend of brown and green. He found himself lost in them.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing.

Maggie smirked, “Nothing to be sorry for, I just need to make sure they fit properly.”

“Oh, oh, yes, of course,” John held still as she looked over the frames. He blinked a few times and took a few glances around at random places, feeling his eyes readjust slightly.

“Would you like me to clean these for you, too?” she asked and rubbed her glossed lips together. She gently pulled them off his face before he could answer and reached for a bottle of lens cleaning spray.

“That would be fantastic, thank you,” he smiled.

Maggie sprayed the lenses and picked up a cloth, her arms squeezed her breasts together as she cleaned his glasses. John couldn’t help but ogle her cleavage line that came further up her chest. He imagined what her tits would look like painted with his cum.

She handed him his glasses back with an innocent smile, “Anything else you need today, sir?”

“No, thank you, Maggie,” he said slipping his glasses on and blinking at the clarity. “You don’t have to call me sir, I’m John. John Gottschalk, or Professor Gottschalk on my better days.”

Maggie smiled and chewed her lip for a moment, twirling a brown lock on her finger. “Professor Gottschalk,” she said with a slight bow of her head, “well, it’s been my pleasure.”

He looked at her eyes one more time before leaving, she looked so innocent, but under he wondered what filthy rotten things she hides. “Thank you very much, have a great evening,” he said calmly.

“You too. If you need anything else, we’ll be here.” she said smiling.

John turned and left the office feeling giddy. His lips were curled into a huge grin and his mind was filled with fantasies of the cute, young optician. He could still feel her hands touching his face and her aroma in his nostrils. She flirted with him, gave him that bit of attention that no one could take away from him, something he’d been lacking for the past while at home.

He headed home and took a quick shower before his wife got back. While soaping up he let his mind run free with the image of Maggie pleasuring him. He stroked himself to the thought of enjoying her body in the shower. His imagination ran wild, with her on her knees, his cock in between in her pouty lips, hot water running down his back. He wanted to push her up against the tile wall and thrust in and out of her, feeling her limbs wrapped around him, the steam from the hot water filling the air. He imagined shooting his load into her cunt. Instead, his load was wasted, pulled apart by the current of the hot water and jettisoned down the drain.

As days passed, Maggie continued to think about her customer. She spent her downtime at work daydreaming of him. She knew he was married. She saw his ring and he talked about his children. “There’s nothing wrong with some innocent flirtation, right?” was one of many thoughts in her head.

Saturday night, John got an urgent phone call to go to an early season Chicago Blackhawks game. John convinced his wife to let him go have a guy’s night. He took this opportunity and went out for a night of beer and hockey with his good buddy William. Between the first and second period, they got overpriced beer refills out on the concourse. As the men made their way to their seats, they checked out women in the arena walking by in heels that aren’t meant for sporting events. They joked with each other about John’s wife giving him a hard time about going out tonight as they sat back down.

John and William took their seats in the eighth row from the ice. They were stationed above the penalty boxes.

Early into the second period, the Blackhawks scored and the crowd rose up in jubilation. Unfortunately, one of William’s wayward arms collided with John’s refreshing beverage. He stared out in horror as his entire beer rained down upon the woman one row in front of him.

The woman screeched, cold beer soaking her shoulder to her stomach. She quickly turned around, her brown hair swishing through the air. She glared at him for soaking her shirt, “What the hell?”

The Fratelli’s “Chelsea Dagger” blared on in the background as John’s cup spun to a stop at his feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” John yelled quickly.

The woman lowered her glare as she recognized him at the same time he did for her.

“Oh, Maggie?!” he asked nervously, trying to rise above the sudden din of the crowd. The woman he had imagined naked countless times in the last few days right in front of him.

The joyous crowd finally quieted down for John and Maggie to talk.

“I’m so sorry,” he fumbled to find the extra napkins he stashed for his nachos earlier. “I’m so sorry, please let me buy you a new shirt or something. I’m so sorry, you don’t deserve to be soaked all night,” he said, noticing her wet chest and the apparent lines of her bra underneath her black t-shirt as he handed her the napkins.

Maggie blotted the stain on her shirt, getting a hint of butterflies; she blushed for no other reason. “Yeah, I don’t really want to smell like beer the rest of the evening.”

“Are you okay?” Maggie’s girl friend asked.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. This is John, he came into the office earlier this week,” she introduced her friend to the man that had been occupying her thoughts, “John, this is Liz.”

John nodded and smiled, “Nice to meet you Liz, sorry it’s because I soaked your friend.”

William cleared his throat, wanting to get in on the conversation between his friend and two pretty young women. His eyes focused on Liz. She was blonde and petite with delicious curves that hugged the hips of her jeans and the chest of her red Blackhawks shirt.

“This is my buddy William. This is Maggie; she adjusted my glasses this week, and her friend, Liz.”

William took note of Maggie’s bubbly blonde friend with a smile of appreciation. Liz batted her eyelashes flirtatiously as she was introduced.

“Come on, let’s get you a new shirt. I told my kids I’d buy them something tonight, anyway,” John said.

Maggie stood up, her shirt half wet with beer and her medium wash boot-cut jeans hugged her bum. John raised a brow and smiled, committing another vision to his memory. Both of them told their friends they’d be back shortly. Maggie followed John up the stairs of the loud arena, thinking about giving his ass a squeeze through his khakis. “You really don’t have to do this, I’ll be okay. I was joking about smelling like beer,” she said as they entered into the concourse area.

They walked next to each other on the way to the souvenir shop. “I know I don’t have to. But I’m a gentleman,” he smiled.

“A gentleman who wants a free wet t-shirt contest,” Maggie teased him.

She unconsciously grabbed his hand and stepped in front of him, leading him through a crowd of people. John was shocked; her hand was so soft and small fitting inside his palm. He grinned and took her lead, savoring the slight touch of another woman. She expertly darted in between standing lumps of people, tugging him behind.

Maggie blushed and pulled her hand out of his when they got through the crowd, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“It’s quite all right, being led around by a pretty girl doesn’t happen often for me,” he said.

She smiled as he opened the door to the souvenir shop, thanking him with a bow as she passed inside.

“So you have kids, how old are they?” Maggie asked as she looked through the racks of women’s t-shirts.

John stayed closely behind admiring how she gracefully moved. “Three kids, ten, eleven, fourteen.”

Maggie looked over and raised a caramel brow, “Oh, I assumed younger from them jumping on your bed, like you said.” She pulled a shirt off the rack, looked at it carefully and put it back.

John chuckled, “Well, I lied. I rolled over my glasses, I thought it was a better story.” He picked up a standard red team logo shirt for his wife.

She shook her head and laughed, “I may have to report you to my manager!”

Maggie smirked and turned back to a set of shirts. She hummed softly as she picked out a dark grey fitted t-shirt with vibrant red and golden yellow diamonds in an argyle print and Chicago Blackhawks, printed in script at the breast.

“Ooh. This one’s cute,” she said softly, peeking over at him, wanting his approval.

He watched her pull the shirt off the rack and drape it over herself; grinning as he watched her.

Maggie looked at the price tag tucked far inside the collar of the shirt, grimacing a little. “It’s thirty-five dollars, that’s too much.”

“If that’s the one you like, get it. I think it will look good on you, and you can always remember me.”

She looked down at the shirt again and back at him, “Thank you. You are very kind, John.”

He hung on her words, the way she said his name wasn’t how he’d ever heard it before. Her tone gained eroticism when she said it and it turned him on. It might be the gentle southern charm in her voice that he wasn’t used to, “You’re not from here, are you?”

Maggie walked through the little store taking her time browsing, “That is correct,” she looked over at him, “I’m from Texas, moved here about two years ago when the company I work for opened a new store. Do I sound like a hick?”

“No. No, it’s very nice. You don’t sound like a hick at all,” John said, reassuring her. He looked at her feet as she browsed through the kids’ stuff, reaching up to pull something off a rack in her silver ballet flats. “Chicago is a long way from home, how was the move for you?”

Maggie stayed on her tip-toes, scanning through the shirts on the top rack, “It was hard at first when I didn’t know anyone. But I thought of it like an adventure.”

“We all need adventure in our lives,” John said, approving of her stretched legs and the contour of her bum.

“Do you have girls?” Maggie asked coming back down flat-footed.

John blinked a few times focusing again on the conversation. “Yeah, the older ones are girls.”

She pointed to a high rack for him to get something down from a higher up rack, a stylish black t-shirt with the noble Blackhawk’s logo faded. “They’d like those, I think.”

He reached up to take down two girls shirts, “I’d like you,” John’s mouth said before his brain could catch up.

He felt the heat rise on his cheeks as Maggie’s mouth dropped open in surprise, a shimmer of light on her silver tongue bead caught his eye.

Maggie fluttered her eyelashes trying to think of something to say. “Oh wow,” she gasped quietly.

John pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for being blunt. Maggie’s lips kiss his cheek ever so lightly, sending warmth through his being.

“It’s okay,” she whispered then stepped back. “Let’s get something for your son.”

John nodded apologetically and held the shirt hangers on his fingers making his way to the novelties. Maggie followed close behind looking at posters. John rummaged through the mini hockey stick varieties.

“Does he have a favorite player? Or something more artsy like this ‘original six’ poster?” Maggie asked pulling out a tubed poster.

John smiled and settled on a hockey stick, “So am I going to tell my kids that this cute girl picked out all their souvenirs?” he teased her.

Maggie rolled her eyes playfully, “They will wonder how you suddenly got such good taste.” She handed him the poster and they walked to the register. While the cashier rang them up, they stayed quiet as Maggie and John exchanged a smile usually reserved for new couples. Then, he thanked the cashier and took his over-sized bag and gave Maggie the smaller one with her shirt inside.

They walked side by side until they neared the restroom. “I’m going to hop in there and change real quick,” she said.

“Of course, I’m going to grab a few more beers and I’ll meet you back here,” John answered.

Maggie headed off to the restroom to switch shirts and give her hair a quick brushing. John bought four beers and carried them in the holding tray. Maggie smiled as she came out seeing him coming up to her.

“That looks really good on you. I told you it would,” he smiled back and they went back down into the arena.

The Zamboni was cleaning the ice when they returned. Liz and William had chosen to sit next to each other on the lower row to watch the game together. John and Maggie filed into the upper row and sat down behind their friends.

John handed out the beers and Maggie tapped her friend on the shoulder and waved “hi,” as she sat next to her crush. Liz smiled and mouthed, pointing to William, “he’s cute.” Maggie winked and rested back into her seat.

They enjoyed their semi-alone time for a few minutes, sipping beer and talking while their friends took pleasure in each other’s company.

Maggie stayed close, leaning to her left but keeping enough distance. She felt oddly comfortable at his side, listening to his voice and her heart fluttered. “What do you teach?” she asked against his ear in the loud arena.

He leaned in against her earlobe and she closed her eyes as he told her about his career. “History. Early history, medieval is my specialty. Barbarians, the Crusades, Christianity in the middle ages, things of that nature,” John said.

“That’s sexy,” Maggie replied.

The Blackhawks scored again on a power play and the crowd rose up in cheer, breaking off their conversation. Shouting and singing ensued.

The uproar died down and both couples settled back down in their seats. Liz patted Maggie’s knee and giggled in a bubbly blonde sort of way and went back to her handsome “date.”

John leaned back, “Was that a joke?”

Maggie looked back at him as she slowly sank back in her chair. “What, you teaching history?” she asked.

John nodded taking a few gulps, finishing off his beer.

“Totally serious. There’s something very desirable about teachers,” she said quietly, making John lean in close to her mouth. “Professors specifically. You give the gift of knowledge and have a part in someone’s life. People respect you,” Maggie said as she trailed one finger lightly along his fingers on the armrest. “Professors are intelligent, dedicated and influential. I mean come on, how is that not sexy?”

John lifted his head and looked at his pretty, girl-next-door, fantasy woman, “You make it sound much better than it really is.”

Maggie shrugged and smiled, “I call it like I see it.”

The period ended quickly after and the fans celebrated a shut out win. William and John gave each other a “this is between us guys,” nod before escorting the ladies up the stairs and out of the arena. John picked up his souvenir bag and followed Maggie. The pairs parked on completely opposite sides so they said goodbye outside the gate.

“I really enjoyed spending some time with you,” Maggie said softly. “I guess I’ll see you around sometime.”

“If we’re lucky,” John said sadly. “I enjoyed myself too.”

He looked over at his unmarried friend occupied with Liz. He kissed Maggie’s cheek and she closed her eyes, appreciating the feel of his lips and goatee on her face.

He pulled back and blushed, “Goodnight.”

Maggie smiled, “Goodnight, John.”

They stepped away from each other and rounded up their friends. On the car ride home, Liz chatted about William, practically giving Maggie a rundown of everything about him. Maggie politely nodded, keeping things about John to herself as she listened to her friend.

When Maggie got home she stood in front of her full-length mirror, admiring her new shirt. She ran her hands down her curves and turned slightly to the slide. She looked at herself and her new shirt, “Something to remember you by,” she said to herself.

John was running wild in her thoughts. She was completely drawn to him after just a small amount of time spent together. “He’s married. He’s off limits. Don’t do anything stupid Maggie,” she kept telling herself.

Maggie pulled herself away from the mirror and pulled her shirt off her head, shaking her beer stained hair. She wore a shiny pink satin bra that stood out against her milky flesh as she undid her jeans and shimmied them down her hips, revealing her equally shiny pink panties. “I wonder what sorts of things he’d like,” she said out loud to herself, stepping out of her jeans.

Maggie walked across her nicely decorated bedroom. She had been quite happy with the soft purple walls. Her apartment was quant, but it was home. She sat down on the edge of her bed, leaning over to pull open the second drawer of the bamboo style nightstand. Inside were her toys, handcuffs, a few vibrators of various colors and styles and her vibrating tongue ring in its plush case.

She picked out a thin, curved rubbery plastic hot pink vibrator, the curve led to the bulbous head on the end. Then she turned the dial on the bottom to make sure the batteries still had juice. After she was satisfied she turned it off and set it in the middle of her bed.

She turned on the bedside lamp and leaned up on her knees to pull the light on the fan, turning it off. Once her room was pleasantly dimmed, she reached behind her back unclasping her bra and dropped it on her mattress. Maggie laid back on her queen size bed, settling into her pillows.

She opened her knees a small bit and rubbed her palm against her pussy over her panties. She bit her lip as her eyes closed, letting her mind go to John. Her fingers stroked over her panty covered labia, a rush of warmth settling over her.

Her mind brought her to a fantasy of fucking John in his office and she slipped her panties off and kicked them away. She had grown wet and dipped her fingers between her lips collecting some of her juices. Then she trailed her fingers over her clit, drawing elicit moans as she rubbed it with calculated care. Her clit jewelry, slickened by her own arousal, teased against the hidden contours of her nub.

Her thoughts drifted to her kneeling beneath his desk, throbbing hardness behind her tight lips. She knew she had skills that would make him groan and lose his breath. Maggie reached over and picked up her vibrator and brought it to her mouth. Her fingers continued to rub her clit, collecting more juices by slipping her fingers into her tight, squishy hole.

Maggie kept her eyes closed and licked the head of her toy and sucked it into her mouth, picturing sucking John’s cock. She wondered how big he was and imagined showing him her tricks she picked up over time. Her fingers slipped down to her cunt and she began steadily fingering herself. She was wetter than she had been in ages.

She smeared her fingers along her walls, softly pumping her fingers in and out. Her spread knees buckled a little as she began thinking of John eating her pussy as she was sitting on his desk. She turned on her vibrator and brought it to her clit. Its buzz made her moan and squirm.

“Oh god, professor,” she moaned. “You’ll make me feel so good, won’t you?”

Maggie circled around her clit with the head of her toy still fingering herself. Her cheeks became flushed and she rubbed her head against her pillows, arching her back with the pleasures she was giving herself.

She slid her fingers out of her slick hole and brought them to her mouth, tasting her own juices, “You’d love how I taste, professor,” she whimpered.

Maggie moved her vibrator down to her cunt; her heart was fluttering in her chest. She pushed the toy inside and began working it in her hole. She fucked herself with it and clicked the barbell of her tongue ring against her teeth. In her mind, John was fucking her on his desk, biting all over her neck, telling her how good she felt.

“Oh fuck me, John, Fucking fuck me,” she screamed out into her bedroom.

She dragged her heels across the sheets and her moans became more intense. She rubbed the toy against her g-spot as she pumped it inside herself. Her cunt was pulsing around the vibrator, making it harder to continue pushing it inside.

“Fuck, fuck,” she moaned, “you’re going to make me cum, professor.”

Her walls pushed the toy out and she dropped it between her thighs. She quivered and groaned as her cunt squirted her hot cum out of her. Her sheets got soaked and she was left shuddering in post-orgasm bliss. A sweet smile curled on her lips and she lay there for a minute, letting her heart calm down. Then she rolled over onto a dry area of her bed and drifted off to sleep smiling happily, thinking about John.

The next morning Maggie woke from her blissful sleep and cursed herself for sleeping in her contacts. She stretched her nude body, extending her arms above her head as she lay in bed, rubbing her head in the pillows and arching her back. She rolled out of bed to the shower, tossing her sheets and comforter across the bed.

Maggie opened the door to her bathroom and stepped onto the soft green shag rug in front of her sink. After brushing her teeth, and applying drops to her red eyes, she stepped over to another rug and pulled open her clear with retro style green circles shower curtain. One color matched her rugs, the other a complimenting darker green. After turning the water on she let it warm up for a few moments before stepping inside the garden bathtub. She let the hot water run over her body, waking herself up.

As she massaged shampoo into her hair John crept back into her thoughts. “I wonder what school he teaches at. Well, no harm in doing a little personal search on the internet,” she talked quietly herself, leaning in and out of the hot water, rinsing her hair. “A little search wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Maggie let her mind wander while she conditioned her hair, and then lathered her body in exfoliating Dove body wash. She carefully cleaned her body enjoying the fresh smell of soap, cleansing her body of the previous day. “That wouldn’t be creepy, not like I’m going to just show up and stalk him outside his office.” She turned off the water and slid into her coral pink bathrobe, letting it dry her body as she blotted her hair dry with a towel.

Maggie picked out a thin white snug little t-shirt and a pair of simple black cotton boy shorts. Her typical loungewear was a t-shirt and panties. She let her hair air-dry and slipped into her minimal outfit. After hanging up her robe she slipped on her black, cute-nerdy-girl-style glasses.

She strolled into her living room and dug her phone out of her purse. She texted her mom back about dinner tonight then opened up her laptop. She went about her daily internet activities then made a bowl of cereal in her kitchen.

Maggie’s apartment was adultly decorated; she took pride in her home. The couch and chaise lounge were both black soft velour. The walls were a soft shade of green; she would have to repaint her apartment when she moved out. She decorated the walls with paintings and black wood shelving covered in books and picture frames.

She plopped back down on the couch and flipped on the television, settling on a news show. She munched on her Rice Crispies and did a google search on her crush. She quickly found his faculty page out of the several universities in the Chicago area.

She read about him, where he earned his various degrees from, what his area of focus is. His faculty picture showed him a few years ago with a younger, happier, dorky smile and longer curly hair. Maggie giggled and smiled as she looked at his gentle eyes. She closed her eyes and let her cunt tingle thinking about him for a moment. “Nothing wrong with a little fantasy,” she smiled to herself, and then wrote down his office number and building.

She chose not to write down his phone number or e-mail address. That would be too much too soon. She did, however, search the campus map for the location of his building and saved the page to her bookmarks for easy finding later.

She folded the piece of paper with his information into her wallet and went about her day.

Tuesday evening, after work, Maggie went to the grocery store to pick up a few necessities for baking snicker doodle cookies. She passed through to the dairy area and saw him. Her heart fluttered into her throat, and she debated if she should talk to him or not.

John saw her a second later. Maggie waved to him and took a step towards him. Panic flashed across the professor’s face, and he quickly shook his head, surprising his younger friend. With an armful of cheese, John’s wife returned, dumping it into the cart. Maggie ducked into the nearby aisle, and listened in on the conversation.

What followed was quite predictable. John’s wife spent most of the time complaining about the mothers of their children’s friends. This went on for the two minutes that Maggie eavesdropped on the conversation.

John and wife finally dispersed, and Maggie was able to quickly collect a dozen eggs.

She hurried to the floral section and picked out two gerber daises, one pink and one white. She held them to her nose, smelling their sweet aroma as she walked to the card section. She thought about John. Maggie picked up a little pink card, simple and plain. After she concluded her shopping she hurried to the registers, avoiding John. One run-in was enough for today, especially with his wife there.

The next morning she woke up early. She didn’t have to work until noon, but this morning she was going to John’s office. Maggie hopped out of bed, anxiously. She hurried in the shower and blow-dried her hair before slipping into a pair of grey pinstripe slacks and a white sweater with a pink collared shirt underneath.

Maggie’s heart was racing as she opened up her laptop to check the campus map once more, double checking the building’s location. She slipped on her glasses and stepped into her pink pumps. She looked in her fridge then closed it, “I’ll get breakfast after,” she said to herself. Then she plucked the daises out of a small vase on her coffee table, the card attached by a thin and curly, white gift-wrap ribbon wrapped around the flowers. She picked up the scotch tape she had set on the table the previous night and grabbed her purse, hurrying out the door.

The drive seemed like an eternity, though it was only a few miles away. Maggie wasn’t used to morning commuters on top of her time constraint. Her heart pounded in her chest, making it hard for her to breathe as she wandered among the buildings, wide-eyed, taking in everything in for the first time. She checked her watch and rushed several more yards to a brown stone building with large windows. She looked at the sign and back down at her paper “224,” she said aloud and went inside.

The building was quiet as she looked around for the stairwell, finding it just behind the wall with chairs lined up against it. Maggie took a deep breath and headed up the stairs, carefully climbing up in her heels. She arrived on the second floor, it was quiet but a few office doors were open with lecturers and professors checking up on e-mails and getting ready for their classes. Maggie walked quietly as she could, wanting to bring as little attention to herself as she could as she passed by the open offices.

She set her purse down softly in front of the office labeled 224. She glanced at the nameplate that read “John Gottschalk” next to the door and the schedule posted underneath. Maggie carefully taped the daises to the door, the pink one layered just under the white one, giving each one’s petals enough space. The card dangled on its ribbon against the door. Maggie gave it a little tug to make sure it wouldn’t fall off then pressed her hand softly on the door before scurrying off back down the hall.

Maggie checked her watch, hurrying to get out of the area before he’d possibly see her. She returned to her white Jetta and headed off to breakfast to snag a bagel.

When John arrived at his office, he saw the flowers on his door as he came down the hall. He smirked and set his brief case down against the door and cautiously peeled the tape from the door. He looked over his shoulders before he opened the card, inside in bubbly handwriting it read “From your secret admirer” and a little heart drawn under the words. John took a quick smell of the flowers before opening his office door. He had a good feeling who they were from and smiled big at the attention she was giving him.

Between classes in the afternoon John masturbated in his locked up office. He daydreamed of Maggie riding him in his executive chair, her pretty brown locks bouncing on her shoulders as she whimpered, digging his cock into her. His hand glided along his shaft, groaning softly to himself as his eyes closed. He imagined her smooth cunt gripping his cock as he held her ass, fucking her deep. He quickly rubbed one out into a tissue and cleaned up before his next class.

Friday afternoon, Maggie stopped at a local coffee shop after work. She saw John sitting outside, seemingly alone, in what looked like the same slacks and sweater vest he had worn during their first meeting. John looked up from his laptop as he heard her approaching and smiled.

“Fancy meeting you here,” John said, looking Maggie over in her black dress and white cardigan.

Maggie smiled, “Are you alone?” she asked then took a sip of her latte.

John pushed some papers over on the table, making room for her to sit down. “Yes, madam,” he replied.

She nodded and sat down next to him, admiring a stack of what seemed to be student’s papers. “A professor’s job is never done?” she teased him.

“It’s done when I want it to be,” John said sipping his black coffee. “Or when the students get ancy.”

Maggie crossed her legs and leaned to her right, towards John, “Do you mind some company?”

John shook his head, “Of course not, but I need to ask you a question first.”

“What’s that?” Maggie asked, raising a brow.

“Did you do some stalking and leave flowers on my office door the other day?” he asked writing a grade at the top of a paper then looked over at Maggie.

She blushed.

“Well?” he asked again putting the cap on a red pen, putting it down on top of the stack of papers.

“Maybe, maybe I did,” Maggie said, smiling softly.

John smiled, “I thought it was you.”

Maggie sipped her latté quietly, grinning behind the cup.

“Why did you do it Maggie?” he asked.

“Because you deserve to smile,” she replied softly, raising her eyes to John’s.

John looked at her pretty hazel eyes, part of him wanted to grab her and take her into the restroom and fuck her silly. But he pushed those thoughts away, “I smiled all day, thank you.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

They began talking about his work, plans for the weekend and standard coffee shop conversation. Eventually, Maggie had to know, “So, tell me about your wife.”

“My wife,” John looked at her slightly puzzled, “what do you want to know?”

Maggie made a thoughtful face and finished up her drink. “About her, about you and her, about your relationship.”

John sighed and fingered the insulator sleeve on his coffee cup, “Well, we’ve been married fifteen years and I’ve begun to split my days into good days and divorce days,” he said softly. Maggie listened intently as he continued. “It’s more often bad days.”

Maggie nodded, showing concern, “Do you fight a lot?”

John shook his head, “Arguments, no. But non-verbal quiet fights, yes. She’s my wife and I love her. But now-a days…”

Maggie reached over and gently set her hand on top of his, squeezing softly.

“It’s probably almost over, I don’t know how much longer we can last. Or, I should say, I can last like this.”

Maggie gulped, “I’m sorry.”

John squeezed her hand back, “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” he smiled reassuringly.

She nodded, “Just do what makes you happy because you deserve it.”

John nodded back with his new friend and changed the subject, “Oh, this might sound silly, but I have a band.”

“A band?” Maggie asked, keeping her hand softly cupped in his.

John grinned, “Yes, a band. More like, friends getting together and playing to let off steam.”

Maggie playfully smiled, “What do you play?”


Maggie’s smile widened as she rubbed her slender fingers against John’s long callused fingers, “Bass, huh? You keep upping your sexy meter.” She felt his fingers, her mind wandering to how they would feel inside her.

John laughed, “Well, I’m not sure about that.”

“I am,” she said with a twinkle in her eye making John blush.

He cleared his throat before continuing, “Well, we have an open mic night show next Friday…” he trailed off.

“Is that an invitation, professor?”

John nodded, “I’d be very pleased if you came.”

Maggie let go of his hand, reached onto the pile for his red pen and wrote her e-mail address down on a napkin, “Send me the information, I’d love to come.” She folded up the napkin and smiled handing it to John.

John took the napkin and put it into his pocket. He looked down at his watch, “Damn, I was supposed to be home ten minutes ago to start dinner. I’m sorry Maggie, but I have to run,” he said loading up his laptop quickly and the papers and notes into his bag.

Maggie watched him scramble and picked up both their cups from the table and threw them in the trash. “I’ll see you next week, then.”

John stood and walked out of the coffee shop with Maggie, “I just hope I don’t embarrass myself in front of such a pretty lady as you.”

She chuckled and got her keys from her purse, “I’m sure you won’t. Have a good night, John,” she said and they both went to their cars.

As the week passed both Maggie and John continued having recurring daydreams about each other. Maggie wanted him: inside her, around her, over her. She longed for his lips on hers. She became infatuated with thoughts of him. She could go out of her way to see him, but she didn’t. Constantly she reminded herself he was married. Could she be the other woman? Did she have that in her? It’s just, so, wrong. But, when she thought about him, she pined for him. “I’ll be good. He’s married, it would be his decision to cheat, not mine,” she thought as she went to sleep Thursday evening.

John spent his week in and out of class, busy with his kids and attending open house at the eldest’s school. To his surprise, his wife came onto him Wednesday morning before she had to leave for work. He started slow with his wife, mounted between her thighs, driving his cock in and out of her. John used his fingers, tickling her clit as she moaned and sighed beneath him. She orgasmed quickly as her husband drove into her carefully digging himself inside her. Her cunt quivered and clenched around him.

Once she was satisfied, he picked up the pace. Unlike their usual lovemaking sex, he began ramming her, grunting as the force grew. He fucked her hard, thinking of Maggie, fucking his wife how he dreamed of fucking Maggie.

His wife groaned in disgust as he used her. She tried to get him to stop, complaining that she would be late for work. But he didn’t stop. He rammed and pounded into his wife, eyes closed, blocking out her pleas. He roared as he let out his built up seed into his wife, panting as she stared up at him wide eyed and terrified about what came over her husband.

John rolled over onto his back and smiled. His wife was stunned for a moment before shaking her head and crawling out of bed.

Friday was an eternity for both John and Maggie. The weather had turned colder, a hint at the upcoming winter. Finally, the sun had begun to set as Maggie drove to the edge of downtown to a quaint bar’s address she had written down. She wondered if his family would be there, if this was really a good idea. She parked her car and checked her makeup one last time in the flip-down mirror before slipping out into the parking lot. As she walked up the sidewalk, she grew nervous and clasped her hands into fists inside her coat pockets.

Maggie fumbled with her wallet to get her ID out of its window sleeve. She smiled as she handed it to the doorman.

He looked it over and looked at Maggie, “Twenty-six, I wouldn’t have guessed,” he said as he handed her ID back.

Maggie smiled and put it back into her wallet, “Thanks, I get it all the time,” and she passed into the bar.

Her heart fluttered as she looked around, unbuttoning her coat due to the warmth of the stuffy bar, exposing the full length of her dress. Her tea length dress sat just below her knees. Mostly white with a black flower pattern that grew thicker as the skirt of her dress flowed out. A black petticoat peaked out under the hem of the skirt and a dark red sash clenched high on her waist, tied at her back. Maggie looked for a small empty table and draped her coat over the back of the chair and hopped into the high seat, crossing her stockinged legs and hooking the heel of a black strappy stiletto into the bar of the chair.

Maggie’s eyes darted around and she felt her face heat up, a mix of nervousness and the over working heater making her go flush. A chipper waitress stopped by and took her drink order, and promptly returned with an Absolut screwdriver. Maggie thanked her and spun the straw in her drink looking around for John.

Suddenly she saw him out of the corner of her eye, his unmistakable face complete with a coarse goatee framing his mouth accenting his thicker nose. She tried not to stare, watching him talk with his wife. His kids climbing on him, too big to do so, but he didn’t seem to mind. Maggie smiled to herself with the straw between her lips.

He hugged his kids goodbye, who seemed to wish him luck, and kissed his wife gently on the lips. Maggie sank in her seat as she felt like someone had stabbed her with a knife when she saw him kiss her. She knew he was taken, even married. But she never thought she’d see him kiss her.

Maggie sucked the rest of her drink down and the waitress took note, returning with another. Maggie thanked her and tried to take deep breaths, closing her eyes to shake the hatred for a woman she didn’t even know rising inside her. Was she jealous of her? Why would she be jealous, it’s just silly? He had never lied to her. Maggie considered leaving, she didn’t know if she was up for this, whatever this was.

She saw John’s wife, seemingly happy, approach her. Maggie straightened out as his middle daughter started skipping and hopped into a seat in front of her. His family piled into the chairs around the table. Maggie rubbed her fingers through the condensation on her glass and took a few more deliberate sips. She told herself she was being stupid as she heard his kids start talking to their mom about how excited they were, sipping on their Shirley Temples.

Maggie tried not to stare, but snuck glances at John’s wife. She wasn’t ugly, or pretty, she had aged as her children grew up and the last time she actually cared about her hair was probably her wedding day. She was of average size, and had a few wrinkles around her eyes that got deeper with each passing year.

John had emerged on stage with his band mates, one of whom was William, setting up his drum kit. They did some last minute set up and sound checks. More people had begun filling in the open areas in the bar until it was full. It was a rather large crowd for an open mic night.

Maggie continued watching him, studying the way he moved, so focused. She smiled, adoring his punk-teacher look; he wore a light blue untucked dress shirt hanging around the hips of his chinos and a dark blue striped tie that was tied oddly around his neck. He wore his glasses and Maggie smirked as he ran his hand through his curly hair before picking up his bass and putting the strap over his shoulder. “You’re so fucking sexy,” she whispered to herself.

John fumbled with the strings on his bass, tuning it. He looked out to the crowd, to his children and wife and smiled and waved. Then his eyes moved just a bit further and he saw Maggie sitting up with perfect posture, sipping a cocktail from the tiny straw between her lips.

His heart leapt. She had come. She was here for him and that meant everything to him. Maggie bowed her head just slightly and smiled as their eyes met. John puckered his lips, it was meant for her, but his wife sat directly in front and giggled in response.

The singer and guitarist, a man about John’s age but seemed to have less of his life taken by stress and family came up to the mic and said, “Sound check. Check, check. One, Two, check.”

There was a moment of pause and some sound work done. All four men fumbled around with their instruments. The crowd buzzed, unfocused. But Maggie’s eyes were stuck on John.

“Thanks for coming out everyone. We are The Ruffled Feathers. I hope you enjoy us,” the singer said.

Maggie chuckled at the band’s name then batted her eyelashes and looked at John from across the room. He bowed his head this time and she smiled big in response, giggling in a giddy schoolgirl way. It was too loud in the bar for anyone to hear her delightful squeal.

The Ruffled Feathers opened with a funky song. The lyrics were kind of mumbled but Maggie didn’t care. She watched John pluck the thick strings on his bass, his fingers slapping the strings and body of the instrument. He was crisp and precise even with the funky bass line. Maggie couldn’t have told you what the song was about, but she didn’t mind.

They played three songs, all rock with funk and jazz undertones. The band’s nervousness seemed to fade, as they got deeper into the set. During the songs John’s eyes would dart to Maggie as if he was playing to impress her. Maggie slowly sipped her drink listening to the music and smiling when he smiled at her.

Between each song the crowd clapped and cheered, apparently a lot of people liked The Ruffled Feathers. She noticed that his son had begun leaning against his mom like he was getting tired.

“We have one more song for you guys, stick around for Billy Beane’s Prospect Farm after this,” the singer said into the mic.

Silence lingered for a moment. Broken by the sound of John’s bass slowly pumping out a heavy, thick line. The rest of the band slowly came in. Maggie watched more intent than before, she felt the sexy thrum of the rhythm between her thighs grow into a slow crescendo with the song. Maybe it was that she was a little bit buzzed and the reverberations of the music flowed out into the audience but she rubbed her thighs together. The words to the song became a blur to her after the first few lines. The tingles in her body, everything, telling her she needed to have this man.

The music faded down to the same bass line the song began with and Maggie clapped loud with a huge grin painted on her face when they finished. The band got their equipment off the stage to make way for the next band.

Eventually, John returned from back stage and headed for his family. Maggie bit her lip, sipped her drink and patiently waited. She listened and watched him interact with his kids and wife. The woman he was married to seemed distant and just plain exhausted. His wife sat quiet while his daughters climbed into his lap hugging him, telling him how great he was. Maggie nodded to herself in agreement with their statements.

Suddenly the girls’ bliss was broken, “Come on girls, we need to head home. Johnny needs to get home, he’s not feeling very well.”

“But I wanna stay!” the oldest daughter protested, grabbing onto her father’s arm.

“Me too! Me too!” the other chimed in after her sister.

Maggie giggled quietly watching how cute his girls were.

John kissed both his daughters cheeks, “You two need to get home, its getting too late for little angels like you to be out.”

“Are you staying?” his wife asked coldly.

The girls piled out of John’s lap as he replied, “Yes, its proper etiquette to stay and watch the other bands.”

His wife rolled her eyes and sighed, preparing to shuffle the kids out of the bar before it became overcrowded with youth. “Don’t stay out too late. We have brunch with the Donaldson’s tomorrow.”

John nodded and got up, holding both his daughters hands as he walked his family out.

Maggie waited patiently for him to return, in the mean time she ordered and received another drink and spun the straws ritually. She was infuriated with how his wife acted towards him. “You can’t show him any love when he just stood up there and played in front of all these people? Fucking bitch. And what was that about not staying out too late? He’s not a kid,” she mumbled to herself as the next band began their sound check.

John returned and went to his friends. He knew Maggie was there but he had priorities. She saw him across the room at a table with his band mates, cheering and downing a beer with them. She stayed in her seat for several minutes before picking up her drink and purse and walking across the room, squeezing between tables and standing patrons.

Maggie tapped John lightly on the shoulder. He quickly spun around, his eyes widened at her striking beauty accented by her delicate dress. John’s friends looked at her like they had never seen a woman before.

“Hi,” she said with a soft smile.

“Hello,” he returned the smile, “I’m glad you came out.”

“I am too. You were great.” She looked out to his friends and winked at William, “You were all great,” she said before looking back up at John. “You didn’t embarrass yourself one bit.”

John chuckled, “Well, thank you.”

Maggie ran her fingertips lightly along his shirt covered forearm, “That last song, who wrote it?”

“I did, why?”

Maggie blushed, “It was a really hot song, I mean really hot. Made me get all tingly inside,” she whispered.

John cleared his throat but his voice remained husky, “Is that so?”

Maggie nodded, “Yes sir. But, um, I should probably be going,” she continued whispering.

He frowned and looked down at her, “Oh, that’s not good news, I wish you’d stay for a bit longer” he paused. “Let me walk you to your car.”

“I need to grab my coat, I’ll be right back,” she said as she pulled her hand away from his arm and walked back across the bar.

John smiled as she turned away and he went back to his friends finishing his beer.

The singer chided him, “She’s fucking hot, if you’re not going to bang that, I will.”

“Shut up,” John hissed.

William gave him a knowing smile and shook his head behind his beer.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” his friend continued leaning his head to the side to get a better view of Maggie as she walked across the bar and picked up her coat. “I mean come on, look at those legs, that ass, she’s pretty and I bet she screams real loud while a cock is being pounded into her tight little…” His words were cut off as John jabbed his elbow into his ribs.

“I said shut up,” he grumbled. “She’s a lady, and you don’t talk about ladies like that.”

His friend rubbed his side and surrendered, “Sorry, man. Sorry.”

John looked over at the door and saw Maggie waiting for him. He put some cash down on the table and told the guys to get a round on him. He walked over to her. His heart raced. Was his friend right? Did she scream like a silly slut when she was being fucked? Was her cunt so tight it could suck the life from him?

He shook his head to get those thoughts from his mind as he neared her and replaced them with a smile, “Maggie, I really wish you could stay a bit longer. I promise my friends don’t bite.”

Maggie laughed and buttoned her black, wool, trench coat up, the hem of her dress peeked out underneath, “I said I’d love to come see you play, but I do have to work in the morning,” she said with a smile as they walked out the door.

“Fuck!” they both grumbled as the cold wind hit them on the face outside.

Maggie shivered and John instinctively wrapped his arm around her, bringing her close at his side. It felt natural. They walked, locked together down the sidewalk.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, smelling the sweet smell of her hair against his chest.

Maggie made a little giggle, “Thank you. And you’re handsome as ever.”

John left his coat inside but her warmth was all he needed for the moment. “Can I see you again?” he asked as they stepped into the parking lot.

“If we’re lucky,” she teased him repeating the same words he said to her two weeks ago, nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

John kissed the top of her head before he let her go from his embrace, suddenly freezing, he wrapped his arms around himself and hopped around like a little kid needing to use the restroom. He waited for her to dig her keys from her purse and open the door.

He held it open and helped her slide into the drivers seat, “You okay to drive?” he asked.

Maggie nodded, her voice clear, “Yes sir. Pinky promise,” she smiled and put the key into the ignition. The smile faded as the car clicked but wouldn’t turn over. “But, apparently my car isn’t.” She tried again several times before letting out a sigh and slumped back into her seat.

John looked down at her. Her lips were folded into the sweetest pout, and she was suddenly a damsel in distress needing to be saved.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, “Pop the hood, I’ll try giving you a jump. I’ll be right back with my car.”

Maggie nodded, still pouting.

John ran to his car across the parking lot. The professor parked his black family sedan nose to nose with Maggie’s white Jetta. The married man retrieved his jumper cables and attached the red to the red and the black to the black.

Maggie peeked her head out from the corner of her open door, “Thank you.”

John smiled, “You’re welcome.”

Then he went to his car and started revving the engine. He and Maggie worked together trying to pump juice into her battery. After several minutes he undid the cables and she tried to start the engine once more. Nothing.

“Fuck!” Maggie screamed from the drivers seat, slapping her hands on the wheel.

John came over to her and squatted down by her open door, he placed his hand, tentatively, on Maggie’s knee. “Hey, hey. It’s not a big deal. The battery is probably just shot. Tomorrow, just come up here with someone and change it out. I’m sure it will be just fine,” he said calmly, rubbing her soft skin under her stockings, his fingers caressing her flesh.

Maggie frowned and pouted out her bottom lip, looking over at him. “Thanks, for trying though. Let me call some friends and see who can come get me.”

John shook his head, “That’s absurd. I’ll take you home, Maggie.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to put a damper on your evening with the guys.”

John’s fingers stretched out and grazed across the warm flesh of her low inner thigh, he wanted to push his hand further up, but he continued to just touch her softly.

“I am sure. It’s no trouble,” he smiled reassuring her.

Maggie whimpered softly at his touch. She ached for more; she ached for him to take her for his own and forget everything about his life, at least for a few moments. She simply nodded after a moment and slid out of her seat and locked up her car. He took her hand and helped her out, watching her dress cascade down around her knees, flowing perfectly with the gentle petticoat.

“I have to run inside and get my coat then I’ll be right back. Go ask the attendant how much it will be to keep the car overnight. You don’t want to get towed,” John said, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a few twenty-dollar bills.

Maggie looked at the money then back up at him, “You don’t have to, you’re already doing enough.” She pushed his hand back towards his pocket.

John grabbed her wrist and crumpled the money into her palm. “You came out here for me, it’s the least I can do. I’ll be right back, I promise.” he said, leaving the money in her hand and hurried back inside.

When he returned, Maggie was returning from the attendant with a little card in her hand. She opened her door, stuck the parking pass on the dashboard and locked up again.

John came to the passenger side and opened the door for her, the case for his bass slung over his shoulder. Maggie smiled and slid inside, though she couldn’t help but think about how many times his wife had sat in this seat before. She wanted to be here with him so she shook off the invading thoughts of his wife as she buckled her seatbelt.

John slid his bass into the backseat and went to the drivers side and plopped down in his seat, and then started up the car, “Where to?”

“I live off Nottingham. It’s not even a mile from the store where I saw you last week,” Maggie said as he pulled out of the parking lot and took a left.

“Gotcha. You know, that’s not too far from my place,” he said as he joined the other cars on the road and started heading to Maggie’s apartment.

His arm rested on the console, fingers drumming nervously on the gearshift. He didn’t know what he was going to do when they got back to her place; it all seemed too easy, too perfect.

An awkward silence lingered for several minutes and Maggie stared out the window, “That last song, the one I liked, is it new?”

John rolled to a stop at a red light and looked over at her. Her beauty illuminated by the city streetlights, “Yes it is. Why?”

Maggie kept her eyes out the window and fiddled with her fingers in her lap, “Did you write it for me?” she asked softly.

“Sort of. Yes. I mean, no. Well, yes,” he fumbled for words.

Maggie laughed and looked over at him, catching his eyes with hers, “Well, what is it? I don’t think I imagined its intensity.”

The light changed to green and John hit the accelerator. Maggie rested her hand on top of his, slowly drawing her fingers over the bones of his hand.

“When I wrote it, I was thinking about you, yes,” he admitted. “You are my muse, if you will. I wouldn’t say I wrote it for you, specifically,” his nerves tingled at her gentle touch. “But, I would say you inspired it.”

Maggie smiled and returned to looking out the window, watching people pass by in their cars. After a few moments she spoke, “I’m glad I can provide you with inspiration.”

The rest of the ride was filled with common conversation until they reached her apartment and she led him through other buildings to hers. They pulled into her assigned parking spot.

“Would you like to come in? I baked cupcakes; tomorrow is my work friend’s birthday. I have plenty. It’s the least I can do for all your kindness,” she said looking at him, longing to stay together if only a little longer.

John turned off his car and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with Maggie. He went over the pros and cons of a cupcake that could mean a lot more in his head before answering. “Maggie…”

“I’m so stupid. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she said rushing her words, shaking her head violently.

John squeezed her hand in an effort to calm her down, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’d love a cupcake.”

Maggie clenched her fingers around his hand, “Sorry, I just… Sorry.”

He leaned over and brushed a few stray chestnut strands from her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’d love a cupcake, but first, tell me what kind it is.”

Maggie’s lips broke into a quivering smile, “Strawberry with cream cheese frosting.”

John made an approving sound and returned her smile. “Sounds delightful.”

They both unbuckled their seatbelts and Maggie led him across the courtyard to her apartment. They walked in silence, accompanied by the wind rulsting the trees.

She opened the door and let him inside, both of them too nervous to say anything. John looked around her apartment. The grown up decor was comforting. He knew she wasn’t an overgrown adolescent. She knew what she was doing, what she wanted and where she was going.

He watched her unbutton her coat and hang it in the coat closet by the door and walk to the bar to feed her four beta fish, each a different color and each in their own bowl. She glided across her apartment in her stilettos, her dress ruffling around her knees.

The apartment smelled of vanilla and cinnamon candles she had lit earlier. He was being welcomed into her home, her charm, her grace, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to control himself. He removed his jacket and draped it over the backrest of the chaise lounge.

“What are their names?” he asked as she fed the last fish.

Maggie turned and grinned, “This is Sammy,” she said pointing to the dark green fish, “Pinkie,” the pink one, “Hellfire,” the red one, “And this is Stinky, or Spot, but his nickname is Stinky cause he has the worst bowl to clean out.”

John came to her side and bent down to look at the separated fish, “My oldest, Abby, has a pink beta, like that one. He tries to jump out of his bowl too much for my comfort.”

Maggie giggled, “Yeah, I used to have one that liked attempted suicide as well. I put a screen over it and held it with a rubber band. It worked well.”

John smiled, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Good tip. Thank you fish lady,” he teased her.

She shook her head and sashayed her way into the kitchen. John couldn’t help but watch her hips sway and enjoy the ruffle her petticoat gave. He eyed her stocking legs for the first time. He knew they were stockings, this time he was sure. His cock stirred in his khakis as he watched her move. He settled down onto the chaise to block his view and calm down.

Maggie returned with a white frosted cupcake and a napkin and handed it to John. “Enjoy,” she said with a warm smile and sat down next to him. She could feel her heart beating in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.

John took a big bite out the cupcake, smearing icing into his mustache. “This is really good,” he said covering his mouth as he chewed.

She winked and patted his thigh, “I have more where that came from.”

John coughed and then took another nervous bite of his treat. Did she want him as badly as he wanted herWas this all his imagination built on a fantasy that turned into a deep-rooted infatuation? He didn’t know her well, but he knew he needed to have her. Somehow. He ate slowly, enjoying the perfect cupcake, in this perfect apartment, with this perfect woman.

Maggie looked at him shyly, like she wanted to say something but kept her lips sealed. He finished the treat and wiped his mouth with the napkin.


“Yes, Maggie?”

She looked away for a brief moment then back at him, his face seemed to hide the angst bubbling inside him. “What time do you need to be home?”

He looked at his watch, “Sometime between now and an hour or so.”

Maggie rubbed her lips together before speaking, “Would you like to lay in bed with me?” John raised a brow. “Not sex, just lay in bed. I know it’s weird. I just want to lie together. I promise, I won’t do anything bad.”

John turned a bit flushed. He wanted to pick her up, take her to bed and ravish her. Not tonight. At least he didn’t think that would be tonight. “Sure,” he said.

Maggie stood and held out her hand for him to take and follow her into her room. He took it and followed close behind, watching her bum bounce as her hips swayed. He adored the red sash high on her waist and how it drew his attention to the curve of her chest. She looked over her shoulder to him as she opened the door to her bedroom.

Once again, he was delighted with the tranquility her apartment exuded. He stepped out of his shoes and left them below the foot of her bed. She chose the right side by her night table and sat down.

His pulse pounded as she crossed her legs and the skirt of her dress rode up and flowed down. He could see the taste of nude lace across her thighs a shiny purple garter attached. His cock stirred in reaction.

Maggie bent at her waist and leaned over, her cleavage inviting his eyes. He took a stuttering breath as she delicately unbuckled the ankle strap of her heels. Her bosom gave a delightful jiggle as she switched legs. John licked his lips as she took off her other shoe, and then pulled his eyes away. He went to the left and sat down on top of her crisp white down comforter.

He waited until Maggie laid back and he followed suit, falling into the soft fluffy pillows. Her bed was supportively soft. He always loved soft beds, but his wife wanted the really firm bed because it was better for her back. He let out a satisfied and content sigh.

Maggie smiled over at him, her hair beautifully draped across the pillows. She rolled over onto her side and softly laid her hand on his chest, stroking the silk of his tie. John scooted over a little, lessening the space between their bodies.

Maggie draped her leg over his, her fluffy skirt strewn over the bed. She closed her eyes breathing in his scent, complemented with light cologne. John closed his eyes and brought her closer with his arm around her back, hand resting on her side, just under the curve of her breast.

“John,” she said, looking up, trailing her fingers softly around the outline of his goatee.

His organ pulsed in his slacks as he ran his hand over her curve, fingers barely grazing the side of her bust. He felt the smooth fabric over her dress scratch under his roughened fingertips. He didn’t answer, instead he relaxed in the moment, her warmth against him, nervous but content with Maggie so close.

“I have a confession to make,” Maggie whispered, lifting her face so she could see his eyes. Their noses were close, barely nuzzling each other. “I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about you since the day we met. I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.”

John blinked his eyes and lifted his hand, caressing her cheek, “I know, I’ve felt it too.”

Maggie rested her forehead against his, and laid her head on his pillow. Their lips so close. It felt like sparks were passing between them. “I want you, but it’s wrong. I need you, but you’re married. I don’t want you to cheat,” she said as she trailed her fingers down the buttons of his shirt, carefully feeling his body.

Their mouths brushed against the others as they spoke, too timid to press together, but oh, so close. Every touch made Maggie and John both grow warm.

“I’ve never thought about cheating,” John said slowly, the words making him sting inside. “But, I met you and now it’s all I can think about.”

Their pulses grew steadier in unison, audible in their breaths. John traced his fingers along the lines of her jaw and collarbone, his other hand holding her. Maggie’s nose brushed against his and her palm flattened and rubbed his lower stomach, fingers daring to keep going.

“I could care for you, John. Maybe even love you. I could give you what you need and desire,” Maggie said. Her words making John’s manhood ache as he fought with morality. “But I can’t and it hurts.”

John used his hand to angle her head down and pressed his lips against her forehead, “I know,” he said after gently kissing her.

Maggie pushed her fingers down, grazing over the erection evident beneath his pants. She rubbed for a moment, John let out a hoarse groan feeling her hand on him, knowing the pleasure it would bring.

Suddenly she pulled her hand away like she had touched something scalding hot, “Sorry. I’m sorry,” she said.

John took her wrist and shook his head. He placed her hand back over his crotch and she obediently massaged his strained cock.

“See what you do to me. Do you see how you make me feel?” John whispered.

She whimpered and rubbed her stockinged toes against his calf. Her hand cupped and rubbed against him.

John groaned, “No one else has touched me for fifteen years, Maggie.”

Maggie rubbed her thighs together under her dress, her panties damp. His arousal prominent to her, she felt the ridge of his head through the clothing.

“I want this so bad,” she whispered, stroking her hand against him, her fingers reaching all the way behind his balls. “I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want people to get hurt.”

John covered her forehead in tender kisses, moaning against her face as she groped him. “You’re not a bad person. Naughty, maybe, but not bad.” He leaned away from her so he could see her eyes. They looked so concerned, yet full of lust. “But not tonight. If this is going to happen, it won’t be tonight. I have to get home. But god, Maggie, I want you. But not tonight, okay?”

Maggie slowly pulled her hand away and nodded, “I understand.”

“Are you upset?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not. You’re married. I can never be upset. Just know there’s a girl here who wants you.”

John smiled, “Be a good girl for me. If this is right, it will happen.”

Maggie kept her eyes on his, biting her lip and nodding. “I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I took your invitation and came inside. I followed you to your bed. It’s choices Maggie. You didn’t make me do anything,” he said rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “You’re beautiful, you know that right?”

Maggie blushed and played coy, looking away.

John chuckled, “It’s true. And trust me, It’s hard to turn this down, but I have to get home.”

Maggie leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Let me walk you out.”

“I’d love that,” he said. He then sat up, leaving her warmth behind and got his shoes back on.

Maggie watched him, propped up on her elbow. She slid out of her bed when he was ready. John held out his hand and helped her out of bed. She led him into the living room. He put his jacket on and Maggie kept a soft smile on her lips though inside she was aching. This was reality.

They got to the door and John looked down at her. “Be a good girl, for me,” he said planting a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll miss you,” Maggie whispered, reaching for the doorknob.

John nodded, “Just wait. The time will be right, someday.”

Maggie opened the door and let him out. He walked through the courtyard back to his car, unable to believe that he turned her down. Maggie locked up and went back into her room, undressed herself, leaving her clothing in a heap on the floor. She threw a pink t-shirt on with her purple lace panties and crawled into bed. She rested her head on the pillow he was using and fell asleep breathing in his scent.

Days passed slowly. Maggie felt like this was all a dream and didn’t want to push herself on him anymore. She fought with demons inside of her, begging her to act, begging her to do what she wanted.

On the way to work Wednesday morning, she found herself in the visitor parking lot of the university again. She picked up her purse and a sealed envelope out of the passenger seat and turned off her car. Her hands shook as she walked through the buildings. “Was this too much… Is this just a game?” she thought as she hurried through campus.

It was later this time. Late morning. It was too late for him to not have gotten to his office yet. She took a deep breath that came out in a fog before she opened the door. This time she new exactly where to go. Up the stairs to the second floor, take a left down to room 224, passed the other offices and weaving in and out of other professors and students.

As she approached her heart sped up. His door was open. She heard his voice coming out into the hallway accompanied with a voice of a young male. She stood next to the door and waited patiently, listening to John discuss the lecture topic from today with his student. Her fingers trembled. She continued to wait, rubbing her toes inside her pumps on the tile floor.

Several minutes later, the student came out of his office. She waited a few more moments, not wanting to be too obvious, and then she stepped into the doorway and rapped on his door. John looked up from his computer, delightfully surprised. He took in the view of her wearing a pink and red argyle sweater vest over a red button down, black slacks, a hint of stocking on the top of her foot inside her black heels. He was stunned, admiring how her layered top hugged against her tits that he had gotten so close to feeling in his hand. If only he had let down his guard.

John cleared his throat but his voice remained husky, “Maggie,” he greeted her.

“Professor, do you have a moment?” she asked and smiled, admiring his tan tweed suit, complete with a very professor-like yellow bow tie. Anxiously, she rubbed the bead of her tongue piercing between her lips. The silver of her tongue stud caught John’s eye. She kept reminding herself to be calm and professional.

He peered at her after the rims of his spectacles, “Come in, please. Have a seat.”

Maggie walked into his office; the room exuded his fine choices and education. She walked slowly, looking at his degrees and the over stuffed bookshelf.

She stopped at the front of his desk, resting one hand on top of the beautiful worn cedar, “Thank you sir, but I don’t need a seat. I just have something to give you,” her voice was soft, nervous for anyone outside the office to hear.

John raised a brow and leaned towards her, “You do? Let’s have it then.”

“Yes, sir,” Maggie placed the envelope on his desk and pushed it towards him.

Their fingers brushed and teased each other as he took the envelope. He leaned back in his chair, pressing all his fingers against the envelope. It felt soft and he knew something was in there besides a few sheets of paper, but he kept his cool.

“Thank you Maggie, I will get right on this after class.”

She nodded and leaned further across his desk. John could smell her familiar sweet soapy aroma.

She whispered, “It’s very important you are alone when it is opened.” She placed her hand on top of his, traced his fingers with hers and then turned on her heel and left his office without another word.

John looked at the time; he hadn’t opened the envelope and put it into the top drawer of his desk. He continued grading for the remainder of his office hour and another student came in with a few questions. His student continued with chatter passed his office time, he politely told him he needed to get to lunch and shuffled him out of his office. He closed and locked his door and sat back down behind his desk.

His stomach turned to anxious knots as he pulled the drawer open and laid the puffy envelope flat on his desk in front of him. “Professor Gottschalk” it said in beautiful flowing letters across the front. His mouth went dry as he opened it.

Green lace caught his eye, “Oh fuck,” he mumbled. He dipped his fingers inside and pulled out the flimsy green lace with genuine care. He laid the panties down on the desk, running his fingers over the lace.

He examined the details. Soft green sheer lace with an innocent flower pattern was dominant over the expanse of the garment. In the middle of the front ribbons came up from the crotch to the top in a criss cross pattern closed off with a pretty silk bow of the matching green. The hip band was made solely of lace and met together at the back forming a sweet classy thong. He picked up the panties in his hand, rubbing his fingers together over the sexy womanly lingerie. John opened the letter than had accompanied the panties. He quietly read aloud:

John, I need you to know how much I want you. When I go to sleep, I keep myself warm with thoughts of you and hope I will be lucky enough to see you in my dreams. When I find myself daydreaming, you are always there. When I think about you, my heart speeds up and my body aches. I want you, John. I need you. The attraction I have for you is stronger than anything I have ever felt. I know it’s terribly wrong and I won’t push you anymore. You have my word. Just know that there is a girl who is plagued by thoughts of you, who desires to give you everything you want, who wants to fill the void inside you. I know you have needs that you can’t deny. I know you used all your strength to not ravish me last week. But please, don’t do anything because of me. Do it because you want to, and when you’re ready, one day, you will be inside my panties. Until then, professor, know that you will be the object of my fantasies. Love, Maggie

As he finished reading his cock was aching, he was too occupied with the panties and letter to give it notice before. He unzipped his slacks and pulled his aching organ out of his fly.

“Oh Maggie, Maggie, what are you doing to me,” he said as he held the panties in his hand and began stroking himself. The lace was soft against his erection, carefully dragging his hand along his pole and his eyes fluttered closed. “I need you too, Maggie. I need your soft lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me inside your mouth. Oh yes, that would be so fucking good,” he mumbled, easing the tension in the shaft with his hand.

Inside his mind, Maggie was on her knees, worshiping his cock with her mouth, suckling and licking his erect flesh. She’d run her tongue over his balls and work her hand over his slick erection. “I need to know what you feel like, oh god. I need to be inside you… fuck…” He quickly grabbed a tissue and closed his eyes again, “You’re so pretty with a cock in your mouth, aren’t you, Maggie… Rubbing that tongue stud all over my cock,” he grumbled and groaned, “fuck,” his chest heaved as his cum emptied from his balls into the tissue. “A nice creamy load for you, Maggie,” he said quietly with his head back against his chair.

Days passed typically, and Maggie began to wonder if she had gone too far. She checked her e-mail regularly for any sign of John but always came up short. She had to remind herself he had priorities. He had children, and a wife. “I’m just being silly. This is just silly. I mean come on, this is stupid,” she had said to herself staring out the windows at work Saturday afternoon, willing John to come in.

Little did she know John had a terrible day. In the morning, his mother came to pick up the kids for a few hours. He thought this would be an opportune time for him and his wife to have some alone time. He was wrong. She was cleaning up after breakfast with his help. While he rinsed and she dried the dishes he looked over at her, “You know Tammy, we’re alone,” he said to his wife with a naughty twinkle in his eye.

“I know,” she replied, continuing to dry dishes.

John finished and turned off the water, he helped dry the last few plates and put them away. He set a skillet on the counter and came up behind his wife and kissed her neck.

She sighed as he began to softly grind against her ass, “Come on honey, and let me treat you to something special this morning. I want to make you cum for me, please, honey.”

“Not now, John, I, we, have things to do,” she resisted and nudged herself away.

He wrapped his arm around her, taking her breast into his hand, kneading carefully. “It can wait, I want to please you. I need to taste your pussy,” he whispered in her ear.

She almost gave in, letting her eyes close for a moment. Then she suddenly turned and pushed him away by his shoulders. “I said not now,” she growled.

“Come on. Why the hell not?” John demanded. “No one is home. This never fucking happens. All I want to do is let you lie down and relax and pleasure you. I don’t need anything, I just want to give to you.”

Tammy started scrubbing at a stain on the counter top, frustrated and annoyed, “You can’t just snap your fingers and have me at will. I’m your wife not some tramp off the street.”

John stared at her with his mouth open, “I never said you were ‘some tramp off the street,’ all I wanted was to have a good time with my wife. Fuck. You’re taking this too far.”

“Maybe I am,” she hissed, throwing away a wadded up paper towel into the trash. “Or maybe I just want to get some stuff done, like go to the grocery store without the kids begging me to buy chocolate and sugary pop.”

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath running his hand through his hair, “I’m sorry. I just thought… never mind. I’m sorry,” he said then left the kitchen.

The day went from bad to worse. The tension from the morning simmered all day, bubbling up around the edges. He left mid afternoon and went to his office at school to try to get some work done, but it was a pointless effort. He was too hurt from being turned down by his wife. His insides ached and turned. There was no way he could focus on work, so he came back home.

The kids had returned by then and Abby was practicing for her upcoming recital at the piano in the living room. He stood at the door watching silently as his wife was hard on their daughter. Every mistake she made was terrible, every blip and slipped finger seemed to be the worst thing in the world. It was too much, “She’s just a kid,” he thought, feeling anger nearly burst inside him. Once Tammy started her “Only quality counts and you should only be exceptional ” speech it was too much for him.

“Give her a break!” John thundered from the doorway. Both his wife and daughter gasped and turned around. “Abby, darling, it sounds great! Yeah there’s a few rough spots but you have a few days to work it out. It will be great, don’t let her get you down,” he said.

Then he turned his attention to his wife, “And you need to stop being so wicked. This is practice. That’s what you do; practice. Don’t make her hate it. Then, she won’t want to play anymore.”

Tammy stood quiet with her arms closed over her chest and Abby slipped off the piano bench, nodding to her father before leaving them alone. They had a quiet fight in the living room, not raising their voices so the kids wouldn’t hear. The subject went from piano, to work, and to all sorts of family problems. Eventually it all came against him. His wife was picking him apart right there in the living room.

“And you’re quite the model of perfection yourself, aren’t you John?” she said, glaring at him.

John clenched his fists together, finding some way to let his pent up anger escape without doing anything stupid, like breaking that lamp he hated that sat on an end-table. It was completely out of place. “I’m going to leave. I can’t be here. Not with you. Not tonight. I might come back to sleep or I might check into a hotel. But I don’t want to see you for a little while.”

Tammy just stared at him, mouth gaping. Once he left to go grab a few things, she realized he was serious. She hurried up after him into the bedroom, “You’re kidding right?” she asked watching him in the closet picking out a few articles of clothing.

“No, I’m not. I’m not leaving forever. But just leave me alone right now. Please,” he said as he stuffed a shirt and pair of jeans into a small duffel bag. He quickly got a pair of boxers out of a drawer then zipped up the bag.

“Why? What did I do?” she scoffed.

“You’re being yourself and I just don’t feel like taking it right now,” he said, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He felt taller and stronger in front of his wife than he had in a long time. “I don’t deserve to be torn apart and treated like dirt by you, or anyone. I need to get away for a little while. And if I don’t come back by ten o’clock, you’re going to tell the kids I’m spending the night at my brothers. Why? I really don’t care, you can figure that out.”

“No, no, you can’t!” Tammy gasped.

John turned and walked out the bedroom door, looking over his shoulder, he said, “Watch me.”

He quickly told his kids that he was going to the gym then meeting up with his brother. They begged to come but he said it was a boy’s night and that he needed some guy time. He promised them they could go with him next time.

It was still early in the evening when he left. He drove through the city. John went up and down busy roads for a few hours, trying to clear out his head. He passed by the office where Maggie worked. It may have been on purpose, but he wasn’t really sure. It was obviously closed at this hour on a Saturday night and he began to wonder if Maggie was home.

He tried to occupy his mind with other thoughts, but the gorgeous woman who said she could give him everything he desired kept popping into his head. John slammed his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. “I’m a thirty-eight year old man!” he screamed at himself, “A fucking man, and not some bitch to my wife.”

He stopped at a coffee shop, and stayed inside, sipping his caffeine and watching young adults chatter about their immensely difficult lives. At least it was a small distraction.

Around ten-thirty he left the coffee shop and drove to the nearest cheap motel. He checked in, put the room on a credit card, and got back in his car. He drove around to the back lot and parked his car and sat.

He closed his eyes, calming down for the first time, truly, all day. He left the car on for heating purposes only, and tried to figure out what he was doing. After a few short minutes, he put the car in reverse and left the parking lot.

He drove down the street, remembering clearly where Maggie lived. His heart began to race the closer he got, “Is this stupid? What if she’s not there? What if this had just been a string me a long kind of game that a young woman found amusing?”

He went through the apartments. He kept hearing Maggie’s voice in his head, directing him where to go. He passed by her parking spot and sighed with anxious relief when he saw her car parked. After searching the street for a spot, John got out, zipped up his coat, took a deep breath and headed for her apartment.

He hadn’t been this nervous since he went out on a date in his undergraduate years. His heart pounded in his chest, and its sound was audible to his ears. John arrived at her door, looking down at the familiar welcome mat, knowing he was in the right place.

John lifted his hand, took a stuttering breath and knocked on Maggie’s door.

Inside, Maggie jumped, startled from a knock on her door near midnight. She closed her book and pulled the blanket off her legs before going to the door.

He waited a few moments, rubbing his hands together to keep them warm. He looked up when he heard the deadbolts clicking. If his heart were to beat any faster, he’d go into cardiac arrest.

The door opened, and the beautiful creature standing inside took John back. She was everything he wanted, he was sure now. He was certain this was no longer going to be a fantasy; this was about to become real. It could be the worst mistake of his life, but he didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t live not knowing what could have happened.

He drank her in with his eyes. Suddenly the wind didn’t feel as cold against him. Maggie stood there, quiet, letting him look her over and take in everything she encompassed. Standing there in her foyer, wearing only a snug little white t-shirt, no bra and with the cold air coming in from the outside her nipples swelled quickly underneath, poking against the fabric, clearly visible. Her lower belly was on display above her sweet pink and white polka dot silk bikini panties.

She was everything he wanted, everything he had fantasized about since he was young. Standing there she looked like a teen rocker girl he would imagine before bed. But, she was real. She was Maggie.

Maggie moved to the side, stunned for a moment that he was here before she welcomed him inside. She felt confused, she wanted to ask questions, to find out what brought John to her door at nearly midnight. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and closed the door.

“John, are you alright?” she asked, watching him take off his coat and drape it over the back of her sofa.

He took a few steps to the stunned girl, seeing her tremble with excitement and a hint of fear. He held her face in his hands and brought her eyes to his, “I’m here, Maggie,” he said quietly, looking into her soul.

“Are you sure?” she asked equally quiet.

John leaned his face into hers, tilting his head just a bit to the left. “More sure than I have been about anything in a long, long time,” he said, bringing her mouth to his.

Maggie closed her eyes and shuddered a moan against his lips. She dropped her head back against the wall, letting his tongue glide over her lips and into her mouth, accepting him.

She raised her hands and placed them around his neck, bringing him closer. Their mouths opened and closed together, in perfect harmony. They tasted each other’s tongues and mouths. Maggie ran her tongue over his bottom lip, savoring every morsel of him. She felt him, his built up lust and desire spilling out into the way he kissed her. He was gentle and rough, tender and sweet, slow and fast, all mixed together.

John pressed harder against her, feeling her need. No words were needed. She sucked his tongue into her mouth, rolling her tongue around it, giving him a hint to what that little tongue stud could do. She then gave him her tongue in return. He slid his hands down from her cheeks, over her neck and shoulders, past her erect nipples and down her belly, around to her round silk covered ass. He squeezed her cheeks and lifted her up, Maggie responded by wrapping her limbs around him, climbing into his embrace.

Their lips never parted as he brought her through the living room to her bedroom. Their kissing grew even more intense as he carried her, the lust boiling over. He held her ass and rubbed against her. He bumped Maggie against the door. She giggled against his mouth and reached over, opening it for them.

John brought Maggie to her bed and laid her down and he straightened out his back, looking down at her. She stretched out across her bed smiling sweetly, inviting him. Her eyes twinkled and her lips shined with saliva from the hungry kiss just moments ago. John admired her laying there.

“What are you waiting for, handsome?” Maggie giggled, sitting up a bit on her elbows.

John leaned down and put his hands on her hips, pushing her little shirt up over her tits. Maggie lifted her arms and shook her brown locks as he pulled her shirt off. Her breasts were more beautiful than he imagined, full, round and creamy with hints of veins running through behind her flesh. Her nipples were perky and erect with brownish pink areola surrounded by the sweetest little bumps.

“You are everything I have ever wanted,” he said as he looked at her body and trailed his hand over her hipbone just above her panties.

Maggie blushed like a little girl and bit her lip. Her stomach trembled as he touched her.

John leaned down again and kissed her lips, licking her soft mouth. Maggie loved how his goatee scratched her face as he moved his lips across her cheek to her neck. His hands groped her, holding her tight as if he was worried she would change her mind and run away. She reached for the bottom of his sweater and pulled it up. John’s hands only left her for a moment so she could pull it off.

Maggie opened her legs so he could climb on top of her. He lifted his knees onto her bed and pressed his chest against hers. Her swollen nipples poked through his chest hair. They found each other’s mouths again and fought for control of the kiss, playfully fighting with each other’s tongues. Loud smacking sounds filled the room as they greedily kissed.

John played with the tongue stud in her mouth, flicking it with his tongue and playfully pulling on it. Maggie hurried with his belt and fly then lifted her feet and pushed his pants down his legs; John kicked them off to help her.

John held her tit with his left hand and felt it’s weight, squeezing and tugging on it just a bit. He steadied himself with his other arm, holding his hand around Maggie’s head. Her hands gripped his sides and hips, pulling him closer to her. Together they began grinding against each other through their underwear.

Maggie’s panties were gathering wetness with each passing second and John’s erection somehow had not poked out of the fly of his boxer briefs. Their mouths parted for a moment and they both opened their eyes, panting against each other’s mouths.

“John,” Maggie said with heavy breath, “May I worship you?”

“Worship me?” John asked, raising an eyebrow with a grin painted on his saliva stained lips.

Maggie nodded, “Yes sir, please,” she replied then wiggled out from under him.

He rolled over onto his side and let her slip away. She got up onto her feet and shimmied her panties down her hips. John watched eagerly as her bare pussy came into view. He hadn’t seen a shaved a woman except in porn. His cock was standing straight up, making a tent of his underwear and he wasn’t shy about it. He watched as she slowly pushed her panties down, a lingeringly slow strip tease just for him. Finally, her lips came into view, shiny with juices.

“Damn,” John mumbled, “Maggie, you are utterly amazing.”

“Thank you sir,” she smiled sweetly as she stepped out of her panties and dropped them to the floor.

Maggie reached for his hand and he willingly gave it. She pulled him off the bed to his feet in front of her and leaned up and dropped a peck on his lips before dropping down to her knees in front of him.

“John,” she said as she pulled his boxer briefs down and his cock sprang out at her. Her thoughts were stopped for a moment as she ogled his length. He was on the larger side over average, thick and veiny. Throbbing and fully erect. Her mouth was near his cock and he could feel her breath on it, “I am going to worship you and give you the most amazing head you have ever had.”

“That sounds like quite a statement,” he teased and reached down touched his erection, just to make sure he was as hard as he thought he was. He couldn’t remember a time he was this erect.

Maggie’s eyes were up to his and she stuck out her tongue dragged it in a slow circle around his bulbous head. “I don’t lie, professor.”

From that small sensation John’s toes curled. He kept his eyes down on her and moved his hand to her hair, brushing a few strands off her face.

Maggie began to work, holding his cock around the base of his shaft and lapping up along his length, coating his flesh in a layer of saliva. She felt the ridges of his veins against her tongue as she licked and took the time to flutter her tongue against his frelenum. John stuttered out a moan.

Maggie grinned and spit onto his shaft. Using her spit as lube she began gently pulling him, slowly. Her small hand just barely closed around his girth. Her mouth disappeared under him and her back arched forward as she kissed his sac through his pubic hair. He admired her ass from this angle; it was perfect.

His eyes fluttered closed and he groaned as she sucked his balls one at a time into her mouth. He rarely got head and it never included attention to his balls. He wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her in closer between his thighs. Maggie complied and slapped her tongue against his taut flesh, reaching back to his taint. She gently tugged on his ball skin with her teeth, and then kissed the area that she pulled on. The grip she had on his cock tightening now and her wrist turning just slightly as she stroked him.

“Oh god, Maggie, that’s good,” he mumbled.

Maggie sucked on his balls for a moment longer then pulled her mouth away, “That’s not all I can do.”

John just nodded, he had no reply to that and wouldn’t dare tease her about her skills.

“You ready?” she grinned, her hand pulling his cock hard and fast now.

“For what?” he wheezed.

Maggie dropped her hand and her mouth opened. Her lips spread over the head of his erection, he felt the warmth of her mouth as it surrounded him. John tried to moan but nothing came out from his lips.

She pushed her mouth further down his shaft and he praised how pretty she looked with her mouth wrapped around his member. Her lips stretched and cheeks were sunken in. He felt his cockhead pressing against the entrance to her throat.

Maggie reared her mouth back and spit on his shaft. Her spit dangled from her mouth to his aching flesh as she spoke “Oh my goodness, I can’t get it in my throat,” she said in a playful tone. “It’s just so big.”

John twirled his fingers in her brown locks, “It’s okay, don’t worry about…” before he could finish his sentence, Maggie’s mouth had swallowed his cock and down into her tight soft throat. She didn’t stop till her nose was pressed hard against his pelvis. “Fuck!” he groaned so loud it could have shook the walls of her bedroom.

He reached over and steadied himself on her dresser, his legs could give out at any moment.

Maggie fed on him, slurping and gagging, turning her head side to side, never letting his erection leave her throat. John’s consistent groans just encouraged her, causing her to work harder. All she wanted was to service her lover. Her lips slid up and down his cock as she looked up at him.

Her tongue wiggled inside her mouth, pushing her tongue bead against his organ, massaging the base of his shaft while grinding his cock into her throat. She pushed her tongue out of her mouth with his shaft completely hidden behind her lips and pulled his balls up with her hand to lick them.

John just stared, when his eyes were able to stay open, “Holy fuck, I thought that only happened in porn,” he moaned. His chest was heaving with heavy breath, he didn’t want to cum yet but he wasn’t sure how long he could hold off.

Maggie started giggling and had to pull back to keep from choking. His cock fell out of her mouth with a pop and he gasped. She spit lewdly several times onto his flesh and smeared it along his shaft. Her other hand found her warmth between her thighs and she parted her pussy lips and ran her fingers over her wet folds.

“I want to taste your cum,” she begged. “Please sir, empty your load into my needy mouth.”

John nodded and spoke in a husky tone, “You’ll get it slut. I’m going to fuck that pretty face of yours.”

Maggie grinned a Cheshire grin, her legs twitching as she rubbed her clit, “Oh goody!”

John took his grip of her hair and angled her head back slightly. Her mouth dropped open and he filled the void with his thick meat. Maggie kept her throat loose as he pushed inside. Quickly, he began thrusting into her mouth, drilling his cock into her throat. He felt strong and powerful, and Maggie willingly obeyed.

Dirty sounds of gagging filled the room with John’s groans. He pushed deep inside her and dug his shaft into her throat as far as he could. Maggie had begun digging out her cunt but he didn’t notice. Her mouth was the only thing on his mind and she gave it to him freely.

Her tongue slithered around his shaft when he buried himself inside her and her cheeks sank in as he pulled away. Drool spilled out of her lips and ran down her chin to her tits. He could feel his cock throbbing and the warmth in his loins about to explode. He pulled her face to his pelvis as his body started shaking.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” he roared as his seed shot into her throat.

Maggie gulped it down without hesitation and John pulled back allowing the last rope to drop on her tongue. His musky tasting cum coated her mouth and throat and he finally pulled away with a relieved gasp.

She wasn’t ready for him to pull away yet. Maggie suckled his vulnerable flesh, gently taking his cock back into her mouth. She swirled her cum splattered tongue against his member. The sensations were overwhelming and John’s entire being twitched.

Maggie sat up, one hand still working her pussy, with the other she wiped her lips after swallowing, “Very delicious, professor, slightly salty and musky, just how I like it.”

John shook his head and wiped the sweat off his brow, “You’re right, I never had a blow-job like that, ever.”

Maggie smiled, “You’re very welcome.” With his help she got back to her feet.

“I’m going to need a minute, I hope that’s okay,” John said as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Of course,” Maggie kissed his forehead, “Would you like a glass of water?”

“You are the perfect woman,” he replied.

Maggie nodded, “I do my best,” and scurried off to the kitchen.

She returned promptly with a glass of ice water and handed it to him. She sat down on the bed next to him and gently trailed her nails along his shoulder. He gulped down the water then looked over at her.

“Tell me something, John,” Maggie bit her lip as she teased his earlobe with her fingertip. “Tell me something else you’ve never done sexually.”

John finished the water then leaned over her to place the empty cup on the nightstand, “Well, one thing comes to mind.”

Maggie nodded for him to continue then began kissing along his jaw line.

“I’ve never had anal sex.”

She lifted her head back up and had a concerned look on her face, “You’ve never fucked a girl’s ass?”

John shook his head, “Always wanted to, but the Mrs. would never let me. I stopped asking ages ago.”

Maggie kissed his lips, “I’m your slut John, and you can do anything you want with me.”

He nibbled her bottom lip, “That you are,” he said then pushed her down onto the pillows.

Maggie’s legs opened for him as he maneuvered himself to his knees and climbed on top of her. He got his first view of her available pussy and the shiny green curved barbell that adorned her clit hood. He flicked it playfully with his finger, “I’ve never seen this before.”

Maggie squirmed as the flick of the jewelry teased the hidden area of her clitoris, “Do you like it?”

“I do, it’s very pretty,” he continued to play with it, dragging his fingers over it and tugging just slightly. “Did it hurt?”

“Surprisingly not one bit,” Maggie replied as she stacked the pillows so she could rest with a better view of John. “The worst part was taking off my pants for a total stranger. But he was professional, and I didn’t even realize he had done it until he said he was finished.”

John chuckled as his hand caressed the beautiful pussy of his lover. Her lips folded in on themselves flawlessly. Her cunt was neatly tucked away behind her bare folds.

Her warmth radiated onto his palm, “So the rewards definitely outweigh the risk, then?”

“Oh absolutely, very much worth the fifty dollars and bit of humiliation it took to get it done.”

His has stroked her soft bare skin for just a moment longer before he leaned down and licked up the slit of her pussy. Her scent immediately over powered him and he was hooked. She tasted better than she smelled. Her folds were soft and the flesh behind them was like velvet. Her fluids coated his tongue as he tasted her. Maggie let out a soft satisfied moan and pinched her nipple.

His tongue poked into her hole and more fluids seeped out into his mouth. She tasted like heaven. He probed his tongue into her cunt. John groaned into her body then flattened his tongue as he lapped up to her clit. His tongue flicked against the barbell and Maggie squirmed. He drew circles over her clitoris and enjoyed feeling the jewelry move in his mouth.

Maggie’s toes curled and her moans begged for him not to stop. She cupped and groped her breasts, tugging on her nipples as he consumed her.

He held her thighs open. Her juices leaked over her ass and down onto the sheets. He sucked her clit into his mouth and gently bit on it. Maggie’s hips bucked against his face and his tongue slid back down to her cunt. He poked his tongue inside her, teasing her, and then took long careful laps from her hole and up to her clit over and over until his lover began panting.

“Please sir, please put your fingers inside me,” she moaned.

John kissed her hard clitoris and moved his hand to her cunt. He traced the outline of her entrance with his fingers, feeling her silken juices. John pushed his pointer finger inside her.

Her walls were soft; they felt like satin with sponginess along the top. He gently pushed his finger in and out. She was tight and he pushed his second finger inside. Her body welcomed it and her hips pushed into his fingers. He dragged his fingers along her smooth walls, fucking her tenderly.

He looked up over her body as his tongue wiggled on her clitoris. Her eyes fluttered between open and closed and her mouth hung open as she moaned. Her stomach sunk in with every deep breath showing off her hipbones and the outline of her ribs as he pleasured her.

He lifted his mouth off her pussy to get a better view. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Maggie was comfortable and in touch with her needs.

Her juices leaked over his hand as he dug inside her. Driving his two fingers in and out as Maggie fucked his fingers. Her hips rolled and ground onto his hand.

“Oh my goodness, that’s so good,” she panted.

John pushed her hand off her tit and he bit her breast. His teeth sank into her flesh as he drove his fingers into her body. He licked and kissed where he bit her and then drew his tongue over to her nipple. Her body was hot against him and her cunt was boiling around his fingers.

His cock had come back to life, standing at attention and begging to be touched.

Her body trembled violently and her heels dug into the sheets making them ripple across the bed. John lifted his mouth from her breast to watch the beauty of her face as she neared her orgasm.

“Oh my goodness, oh fuck” she whimpered. Her chest and cheeks flushed red as the pleasure over powered her.

“That’s a good girl,” John said, coaxing the orgasm out of her as she rode his fingers. He curled them up inside her massaging her g spot, “Cum for me, cum for me, my slut.”

Maggie spoke in broken words, only “fuck, oh god,” and “John” were audible between her purrs and moans.

Her cunt gripped his fingers, squeezing tight and releasing rhythmically, until forcing them out. Maggie had gone silent and her orgasm squirted violently put of her. Soaking John’s body and the sheets.

John was stunned.

Maggie’s eyes slowly opened as her breathing calmed, “oh wow,” she said softly.

“That’s… Wow, I’ve never seen that before either. You are just full of surprises aren’t you?”

Maggie rubbed her cheeks into the pillows as her body shook with post orgasmic quakes, “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding me!” he laughed. “That was amazing!”

Maggie giggled as John settled down on the pillows next to her, “Thank you sir. I want to amaze you.”

He kissed her lips gently, “Please don’t stop.”

She pecked his lips several times, tasting herself on his mouth as she climbed on top of him, “I won’t, I promise.”

Her hand found his erection once again and she sat up on his hips, hovering over him. She placed her knees on either side of him and her pussy less than inch from his cock.

“John, I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” she said as she teased his cock against the folds of her dripping pussy.

“I know, I have too,” he said, looking at the stunning creature on his lap. “I haven’t wanted anything this bad”

Maggie smiled sweetly and lifted her body, settling his cock right at the entrance to her cunt, “Fifteen years John, fifteen years since you have been inside another woman, are you glad it’s me?”

“Oh god yes, Maggie. You are well worth the wait,” he held her hips as she lowered down onto his shaft.

Her heat engulfed him. Her body slid down his pole and settled on him, wrapped around his cock.

“Oh god, your cunt is so soft and wet and hot,” he groaned, looking up at Maggie.

Her heat spread to him and filled his body with warmth. The walls of Maggie’s cunt stretched to fit his girth inside. Maggie rocked just slightly on his lap, holding his organ deep inside her. Her mouth dropped open in pleasure as their eyes locked.

They were connected, completely, finally.

Maggie lifted her hands behind her head as she began bouncing on his erection. Showing off her body as her hips danced in his lap. A private show for John’s eyes as she rode him.

He lifted his hips and met her thrusts, grinding himself into her. His cock pushed against her cervix as her body came down on him. She let out a yelp of pleasure as she felt his member in her stomach.

“Holy fuck, you fit so good inside me,” she moaned, dropping her head back. Her breasts bounced in circles on her chest and her hair danced around her shoulders. Her hips rolled down into him, digging his organ inside her.

“I could fuck you forever,” he moaned back, in awe of her body bouncing and rocking on his.

“Please do!” Maggie squealed.

John groped her tits, squeezing them together roughly, and pulling her nipples between his fingers. His large hands filled with soft breast flesh, fingertips sinking in.

“Do you like my tits?” Maggie asked, biting her lip.

“I love them,” he grunted as she impaled her body on his erection.

Maggie dropped down and catching herself on her hands next to his head. She kissed his lips and moaned into his mouth. John grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her skin, pulling her into him. Their bodies worked together in pleasurable unison.

Maggie’s walls squeezed John’s cock as she pulled up and loosened as she came down. She milked him with her cunt.

“I love how you feel inside me. You’re so thick, my cunt has to stretch for you,” she panted against his mouth.

“I can feel your fluids leaking on my balls. You’re such a hot slut,” he grunted then covered her mouth with his.

Their bodies rocked together firmly, filling each other’s needs. John’s organ slid into her and he pressed his hips up to fill her completely as she came down on him. Their tongues wrestled as they moaned back and forth into each other’s mouths. John relished the sensation of her hard nipples rubbing along his chest.

A thin layer of sweat coated both of their bodies. The room smelled of sex and the strong, delicious aroma of Maggie’s cunt.

John could feel himself getting close again and wasn’t ready for this delight to end just yet. He pulled Maggie’s hips down onto him. Her cunt continued to pulse around his throbbing erection.

“What’s wrong?” Maggie asked, nuzzling her nose against his.

“Nothing, nothing at all. I just don’t want to cum yet,” John grinned.

Maggie rolled her hips just slightly as she caught her breath.

“I still want your ass,” he said.

“So take it!” Maggie beamed.

With those words John lifted Maggie off him and put her on the bed. He slid off then pulled her off the edge by her ankles causing her to squeal.

“There’s lube in the nightstand,” Maggie said as she positioned herself on her hands, bent over the side of the bed.

John reached over and rummaged through the drawer, quickly finding warming lubricant. He squeezed a couple drops onto his finger and Maggie reached behind her and pulled her ass cheeks open.

Her bud was tiny and welcoming. John smeared lube onto it, tenderly massaging the entrance to her ass.

Maggie looked over her shoulder as she giggled and squirmed, “Sorry, it tickles.”

John swatted her ass with his other hand, “Stay still slut,” he said firmly.

“Owwie!” she squealed, “Yes sir.”

“Do you like that?” he asked and spanked her again, harder this time.

Maggie’s body writhed and she wiggled her ass, “Oh yes sir, very much.”

He worked his finger into her tight asshole and lubed up his cock, “I should have known, sluts like you always like to be spanked.”

“I love it sir, it feels so good when you spank me,” Maggie moaned and pushed back against his finger.

John pulled out his finger and positioned his member at her asshole, “I make you feel good other ways don’t I?” he said then pushed his cock into her tight hole.

He pushed past her rim and her anus sucked his cock inside. He sank into her and Maggie let out a deep guttural moan as her back arched.

“Fuck yes, you do, professor. You make me feel wonderful,” she purred.

Her hands dropped from her ass and she held her torso up on the bed as she backed up into his pelvis.

John stood still for several moments, feeling Maggie’s tight ass suck on his erection as she rocked back and forth on it. He held her hips idly, breaking only to spank her, which made her anal walls squeeze tighter around him as she shimmered with pleasure.

“Fuck my ass professor, fuck my dirty little hole,” Maggie begged as she slammed her body back into him.

“Filthy little girl,” he groaned and pushed her chest into the bed and began drilling into his slut.

Maggie winced from the intense pressure of his weight slamming into her anus and gripped the sheets. His hand spanked her ass and the other reached under her and pawed at her nearest tit.

“Fuck yes, that’s what your slut wants, fuck my ass just like that,” Maggie cried out.

John slapped her ass repeatedly, drilling into her hot, smooth anus. He pinned Maggie to the bed with his weight. His balls slapped against her pussy with every thrust. He groaned and bit down on her shoulder. Maggie screamed out in gratification as his teeth dug into her flesh.

Pure animalistic lust had over taken them both.

Maggie slipped her had underneath her and found her clit. She rubbed it wildly, making her legs quake as he used her ass for his pleasure.

He licked her shoulder where a trickle of blood had leaked. Maggie was completely his now. He knew it. He bit down and sucked hard, leaving another mark on her shoulder.

Maggie’s anus milked his cock as she panted and moaned. John’s groans turned to roars as he pounded into her ass even harder.

John fucked his slut into the mattress, using her body, thrusting everything he had into her ass. Maggie screamed and cried out in satisfaction as he tore her anus open. He squeezed and spanked her ass so hard with his hand; he left bruises on her flesh.

Maggie whimpered, “Cum with me, please sir, I beg you.”

John wanted to say something to tease her, but he knew he was too close, he just grunted, “Yes, Maggie.”

He felt his balls tighten and the rush of intense pleasure flood through his cock and shoot deep inside her anus. He growled like a beast as he emptied what felt like a huge load inside his slut.

Just as he came he could feel Maggie under him, her body writhing helplessly. Her ass clenched tight, pulsing on his sensitive cock. Her breath was fast and her heart pounded as she gushed down her thighs.

He collapsed down on her, barley getting his knees on the bed so he wouldn’t slip off. His erection relaxed, but stayed snug in her ass as they lay together. Maggie slid her hand over and found his and squeezed it. He rested his hot cheek on hers. Both of them were covered in sweat, Maggie’s hair was stuck to most of her face.

Blissful moments passed before John slipped out of her ass and off her. He moved up to the pillows and laid back. Maggie followed him and snuggled up into his nook.

There weren’t any words needed, but John said them anyway, “Thank you Maggie, that was amazing.”

Maggie nuzzled into him and wrapped her arm over his chest, “No need to thank me,” she purred with her eyes closed.

His cum leaked out of her ass and down onto the sheets.

“Maggie…” John whispered.

“Yes?” she asked raising her face to look at him.

“I don’t want this to be a one time thing, you know that right? I don’t want to sound clingy, but that was the best sex I ever had.”

Maggie grinned and dropped a kiss on his mouth, “I know, it was, and I don’t want it to be either.”

John kissed her flushed cheeks and brushed the sticky hair out of her face, “I’m going to get in trouble with you around.”

The smile didn’t leave her lips and she ran her fingers over his nipple, “I can keep a secret, if you can.”

John pulled her face closer to his kissed her hard, with deep rooted passion, before slowly pulling away. “I absolutely can.”

Maggie nuzzled his cheek and whispered, “What do we do now?”

“We go to sleep.”

She laughed and pulled her face away to look at his eyes, “No, I mean, after tonight.”

John traced her cheekbone, getting lost in her eyes, “I go home tomorrow. Then we see each other when we can.”

Maggie opened her mouth to say something and John placed a finger gently over her lips. The realization of their relationship came over them and he could see it on her face.

“Maggie,” he said gently, “I’m going to see you any time I can. This is a new thing to me, so we are going to have to work out some kinks, but we will do whatever we can, okay?”

By my own estimation, I was a bit of a slut in college. I dated a few women seriously but I wasn’t averse to waking up next to a naked stranger and asking her name. Some hot times were had, you can be sure of that. Still, I don’t think the collected stories of all my other college sex partners can compare to the tales I could tell about one woman – Gina. I dated Gina for almost two years, easily the longest relationship I had in my five years of school.

Gina was two years my junior and she was a lovely sight. She was gorgeous; simply stunning. She had a huge smile, her lips seeming insufficient to hold back the big gleaming white teeth behind them. Her hair was medium-long and dark, thick and wavy, soft and smelling of tea roses. She had full young breasts that hung heavy in her blouse, shapely legs she liked to show off, and a wonderful hourglass figure. Her hips were a touch wide but that just made her deliciously voluptuous. It made her luxurious. She was sexy in an intriguing mix of womanly body and girlish charm.

She was a lusty wench, too. Her enthusiasm was nearly boundless and almost anything suggested to her would eventually come to pass. She would act horrified at first but given some time to think about it she invariably became more and more excited by the idea. Her imagination, however, was somewhat stunted and she didn’t know how to release her fantasies. Well, at first. She learned.

After a while our sexual relationship became a little stale as we reached a point were we were too afraid or too insecure to push each other or really ask for what we wanted. We decided to try something we called being “in charge,” which was a date where one of us was to follow the other’s commands without fear of hurt feelings or unfulfilled desires. I don’t think it was really a dominance and submission thing, at least not at first, just a more one-way affair where one person got to be the center of attention for the night.

I went first to get the ball rolling, and that night was fairly successful. We didn’t do anything shocking or revolutionary, but it gave us both a certain comfort level to be a little bit selfish and really express what we wanted. It gave Gina all kinds of ideas for her first night to be in charge. We set that up for a Wednesday night since I had no classes on Thursdays and her first class didn’t start until 2:30. I lived alone in a rare single room in the dormitories so it was my place or no place. She came over after dinner.

She knocked on the door near sundown and I answered it quickly. Gina’s wide, glorious smile engulfed me and lit a fire in my heart just like it always did. She was dolled up in a short skirt that showed off her legs and a red blouse that hung open a little more than necessary to display her generous cleavage. She knew she was devastatingly pretty and she wanted to hammer it into my skull that I was one lucky bastard. I certainly knew it.

She sauntered straight into the room and took a seat in the dorm-provided “comfy chair,” crossing her legs and assuming a commanding air. Without a word spoken I could tell she was really into the spirit of the evening. I was at least as excited as she was. I closed and locked the door and approached my queen.

“How may I serve you tonight?”

“I have a list!!” she proclaimed, actually pulling a small stack of note cards from her bra and making a bit of a show out of it. My adrenaline surged a bit as her fingers dipped in there, but I had to be patient.

“May I see it?” I asked. Her mischievous grin answered me before her voice did.

“Oh, no. That would be telling.”

“I see. Then I reiterate; how may I serve you tonight?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a CD. “Start it on track 4.”

“As you wish.” I popped the CD in and set it up, then punched play. In a moment a slow, sexy blues groove filled the room.

“Now I’ll give you your first command,” she said, holding out one of the note cards with an impish grin on her pretty face. I took the card and read it.

strip teasE

Aw, fuck! I think I would have preferred it if she had whipped out a dildo and wanted to stick it in my ass. Look, I think I’m a bit of a big shot in the sack, and generally in life I’m a confident man, but I hate dancing. I talk a good game and I think I’m a fairly smooth operator, but I’m clumsy as fuck and I can’t dance to save my life. I fear nothing, but in that moment I was flat out terrified. I almost didn’t notice the odd capitalization on the 3×5 card.


“Dance for me, bitch!”

I’ll try not to horrify you with the precise details as I’m sure I failed miserably at most of the things I tried. You go ahead and imagine a Chippendale’s dancer doing his best as you read this and I’ll try to keep it brief.

I reminded myself that my girl was worth it, closed my eyes and started moving my hips to the music. I turned around and wiggled my butt in her face a little and she rewarded me with a swat on the ass. A bit more swaying to the sultry blues beat and I started taking off my shirt. Thank God I was in shape back then so my torso and chest were nice to look at. My shirt came off and I tossed it to her. She twirled it over her head and cheered like a drunk trucker in a titty bar.

I think I managed to make the belt somewhat sexy at least. I popped the buckle and pulled out a few inches of leather, then held it in my hand as if it were my dick. I moved in close to her and offered her the belt, which she took. She gave it a tug and I held tight, acting as if she were pulling on my cock and making an appropriate face of feigned ecstasy. She rightfully laughed at that but I did my best to push on through this heinous act. I moved away and let go of the belt and she pulled it through the belt loops and off.

I popped the button and tried to gyrate suggestively as I slowly pulled the zipper down, trying to make it as loud as possible. The wide, amused smile that had not left her face since this whole debacle started finally showed the slightest wisp of lust as my pants opened. She reached out but I moved back out of range. I turned around and swayed my hips in front of her as I pushed the blue jeans off my ass so she could see my boxers. Sorry — tiny G-string, for those of you still imagining the Chippendales dancer.

About this time I regretted leaving my belt in her hands. A sharp crack of leather on my backside pulled a curse out of me and ruined any kind of rhythm I might have had, but judging by the howl of laughter from Gina she thought it was worth it. I turned with a touch of anger in my eye but it’s hard to reach a position of righteous indignation with your pants around your knees. I kicked the strip tease into high gear and lost the shoes, then pulled the jeans and socks off together leaving me in my underwear and damn near the end of the first item on her list.

Being the trooper I am I did my best to at least finish on a high note. I pulled my BVDs down my hips, moving the hem lower and lower as I slowly approached her. I worked it down to the base of my cock and just a little further, showing her the first glimpse of myself. I moved in as close as I could and tried to strike a pose, arms up and flexed, chest stuck out and torso slowly swaying to the music while shoving my pelvis at her. Again, she took the hint quickly and reached up to pull the hem slowly down until it barely held the head of my dick down. Now the twinkle of amusement in her eye was definitely turning to lust, and that suited me just fine.

She ran a finger up and down the shaft a few times, a feather-light touch that made me shudder in anticipation.

“Don’t quit your day job,” she gently chided, referring to my dance. I was just glad to be done with it and was hoping her next task had something to do with me fucking the hell out of her. Of course she made me wait for that, but not before getting my hopes up by yanking my underwear down and setting my master monster free. I stepped back and kicked them all the way off and stood before her completely naked. I did enjoy the look in her eyes as she ogled me.

“What’s next?” I asked. She picked up her cards and sorted through them, raising an eyebrow theatrically.

“I think you’ll like this one.” I took the card.

Come in my mouth

“Seriously? You want me to stand here,” I picked up my cock and moved in close to her, invading her personal space and giving her a very intimate view, “and put my cock in your mouth?”

“That’s not what it says. You are on your own, stud. I won’t help you get there. I’ll just take care of the end result.”

“Right. So, you just want to watch me jerk off?” I wrapped my slowly thickening rod in my fist and began tugging gently, trying to make it a good show for her.

“Exactly,” she said sweetly, her lovely eyes beaming up at me. “Now get to it. I want a snack.”

“The least you can do is take your tits out so I’ve got some encouragement.” She considered that for a moment.

“I don’t know. That’s not on the card. Besides, don’t I get you horny enough just sitting here?” She leaned back in the chair and struck a pose of her own, legs crossed and showing a fair amount of thigh in her medium-short skirt, blouse open enough to allow easy view of her ample cleavage, and of course her amazing high-beam smile that could just about make me hard all by itself.

“Baby you know you are hot as Hell, but just sitting there like that you could be at your parent’s dinner table. You have to give me something. Something sexy. Either set them free or talk dirty to me.”

“Ooh, I like that!” She leaned forward and put her face near my slowly moving hand, almost using my prick as a microphone while I jerked off.

“I love the taste of your cum. Did you know that? And did you know I’ve never tasted another man’s cum?” I instantly forgave her the mention of ‘other men’ due to context. “In fact this big, hot cock is the only one to ever pass my lips.” She opened wide and almost let me in, licking her lips with a slow, lurid tongue. If I had lunged I could have easily smeared her lipstick a bit, but I was patient.

“I gave plenty of hand jobs before you, and every guy’s little prick would spit up this nasty, slippery goo and I couldn’t wait to wipe it off my hands. But then I met you. Mmmm, baby you have no idea how bad I wanted your cock in my mouth from the moment I met you. One look at you and I knew I was through with all those little boys. The first night we made out and you took your shirt off I could smell you.” She took a long, slow whiff of me and smiled. “Mmmmm…you smell like sex. And I just wanted my tongue all over you.” Again her tongue slipped out and flirted with the end of my rigid cock. I was good and stiff at that point and I was slowly increasing my pace, caught between racing for the orgasm and wanting to keep it slow to hear what she had to say.

“And when I saw your dick for the first time…oh, you just don’t know how hot that was. That long, thick, meaty cock was all for me, and I wanted it. Bad. Remember how I used to say I thought it would be gross? How I would never, ever in a million years let a penis in my mouth? I was lying. I knew it would be amazing, but I was afraid I’d like it too much. I wanted it so bad it scared me. I wanted to feel it, to smell it, to lick it, to take it in my mouth and suck on it, and most of all I wanted it to come on me, in me, all over my mouth and tits and everywhere. I wanted to be covered in it, drenched and dripping on my knees in front of you.”

Her delivery was flawless, slow and dusky. Her large, dark eyes moving from my cock to my face and back again, her suggestive mouth so close but not touching, her warm moist breath on my skin, and the husky, sexy tone of her voice all conspired to make it a hell of a time.

“Remember the first time I took you in my mouth?” I’d surely never forget it. “The night before I had a dream about it. I dreamed I was on my knees and you stood above me. You were all in shadow, except for your cock. It was bright and beautiful and terrible and sexy and scary all at once. You took my head in your hands and pushed it down my throat and I was helpless. You just flowed into me and filled me up. When I woke up I had to masturbate immediately I was so horny. But I knew I had to suck your cock that day.”

She turned her face and gently brushed her cheek against the head of my cock. I left a little trail of wetness on her flesh. She wiped it off with a finger and considered the little smear of pre-cum.

“But when you came in my mouth the first time and I tasted you…mmmmmm.” She licked her finger lewdly. “Did you know I came at the same time? No? Well, you were a little preoccupied at the time. But I did. When that fat cock erupted and filled my mouth with its hot, sticky cream I lost it. I wasn’t even trying to come but I did. That’s how much I love your cock, baby.”

Jesus Christ what an actress! I was jacking off quickly and I could feel that I was getting close. I grabbed a post of my loft to steady myself and I raced for the finish line.

“Cum for me, baby. Fill me up. Fill my mouth with that hot, nasty cum.” She turned up the heat and her tone became needy as she begged and pleaded for my orgasm like she was in a porno. I couldn’t wait to oblige. “Come on, baby! I want to taste it, I want it all over my tongue and on my lips, I want it all baby! Come on, give it to me baby, cum in my mouth, cum for me! Cum in my mouth! Fill me up baby, I need it sooooo bad!”

The moment finally arrived and I leaned in close, aiming my cock at her wide open mouth. I put the end of my dick on her tongue and barely managed to keep myself steady as the first contraction launched a shot of semen into her face. I wanted so badly to drive down her throat and come properly but I had to follow her rules, damn it! A second spasm sent more cum into her mouth, and a third and fourth added to the growing slurry of spit and sperm. The gouts turned to spurts, and the spurts to dribbles, and as I squeezed out the last few drops she closed her lips around the head, quickly whisking them away.

I took a half step back and watched as she gave me a show, opening her mouth again and showing me the pool of milky fluid coating her tongue. She closed her mouth and swallowed with a serene, sexy look on her face as she did so.

“Mmmm…that was nice,” she said, licking her lips dramatically.

“I love the way you talk, girl. Hell, I love the way you do everything. I can’t wait for my next instructions.”

“Good.” She pulled out another card.

Undress me

“Easy enough.” I held out my hand and she stood gracefully, her perfect smile beaming at me. I unbuttoned her blouse, nearly desperate to see her heavy breasts. I hadn’t really been a tit man before Gina, but her perfectly plump breasts were pure heaven. They were just heavy enough to be ‘big’ without going too far, and at the age of 19 they were young enough that gravity hadn’t done its damage yet. The blouse dropped to the floor and the front clasping bra followed it quickly. Her lovely ladies were pale and smooth, full and round, perfumed and perfect, and as I went after one with my tongue she pushed me away.

“Follow our instructions, please.” She was deliriously pleased to put me in my place. She was enjoying obviously enjoying power of being in charge.

“Yes, my love,” I whispered, dropping to my knees to help her out of her skirt. I pulled down the zipper and peeled it down off her hips, revealing only lacy back panties. Those soon joined the rest of her clothes in a pile and she stood there above me, gloriously nude. I stayed on my knees because I figured she would like it. I think I was right.

Hands on hips, legs akimbo, she looked down at me and smiled.

“Oh, I like you this way. I might have to rearrange my cards now.” She leaned over to the cards on the desk and picked them up, then rifled through them. I could see the gears turning behind her deep brown eyes but she decided to keep her original schedule. She handed me another card.

Kindle my flames

Ah, the meat and potatoes. Let me tell you about Gina; she loves foreplay. LOVES it. I tell the hot stories of our latter period but for the first six months or so I got no more than a hand job from this girl while putting in marathon sessions of heavy petting, kissing, licking, nibbling and manual stimulation. I got to third base on the first date and stayed there for half a year.

Now I didn’t mind the slow approach on Gina. I enjoyed playing her skin like a piano and she was incredibly responsive to my touch. You always knew where you stood with Gina, and if you had one of her many erogenous zones under our finger or tongue she’d let you hear about it. While she encouraged me, I just plain enjoyed touching the girl. Her skin was smooth and pale, her breasts heavy and round, her waist narrow and high, and her ass was full and curvy. A slow tour around Gina was a nice time indeed.

As we progressed in our sex life the foreplay receded a bit. Gina was always so eager to race up to her limit, and once her limit was a bit higher we had plenty of options. But that evening was all about her whims and it looked like she wanted a slow burn. No problem. That would give me time to recuperate.

It started with a backrub. She went face down on the giant pillow I used as a lounge chair and I straddled her butt. Good thing I had just cum, otherwise I would have wanted to plunder that ass immediately. But my lust had been sated for the moment so I took it slow and gentle, running my hands over her back, sides, shoulders, neck and arms, running my fingers through her hair, and generally making nice to her with my hands.

Then I got off her butt and gave a similar treatment to her legs, rubbing her ass, thighs and calves, massaging her feet, and finally dealing with her toes. I slithered my tongue between her toes, gently suckling on the pink painted piggies one by one. She cooed softly while I worked. Neither of us had any particular foot fetish but she enjoyed attention to just about every square inch of her body so I figured I might as well be comprehensive.

I moved the tongue bath steadily northward, licking and nipping at her ankles, calves, and thighs. I skirted her nethers because I knew it was too soon to let my tongue loose down there. Up her back, her sides, and up to her neck I nibbled and nipped while she purred her happiness. Once I got up to her ear lobe she spoke.

“Now the other side.” I got up and let her roll over, and she raised her foot into the air with a giant grin on her face.

I started back at the toes, again licking, nibbling, suckling and nipping at her. Calves, thighs, a quick trip past her wispy brown bush, and on to the navel I went. Naturally I spent a great deal of time on her luscious breasts.

Gina’s breasts were easily the best I had ever had the pleasure to handle. They were full and heavy but she was young enough that time and gravity hadn’t done her any damage. They weren’t so big as to be floppy and cumbersome but they were the perfect compliment to her womanly hips. Her nipples were dark and medium sized and they stiffened up at the drop of a hat. Her areolas were smallish and sensitive, and like most areas on Gina they reacted very well to gentle stimulation, and even better when things got more energetic.

I ran my tongue underneath their bulk, around their circumference, in between them up and down her cleavage, and then spiraled in to her nipple. I flirted with the edges of the areola first, not touching the nipple at all. My hot breath flowed over her buds and she started to squirm. I continued my teasing and she squirmed more, soon trying to force her tit into my tongue. Still I teased her, putting my hands on her shoulders and pinning her down while I changed my tactics.

I started drawing lines on her tit with my tongue, starting far away from the nipple and moving in, always stopping just short of her needy hot button. If my tongue had been a paint brush her breast would have looked like a sunburst.

One of the readers of my story How it all Began, the first Nikolaus and Lauren story, objected to the appearance of Eric in the tale because he did not like gay male sex. He (I’m assuming that he is a he since “Anonymous” is the classic unisex name) suggested that I put a disclaimer on my stories whenever I’m introducing something like that. Of course I’m not going to do that, but I’ve decided to use key words here as well in Literotica’s story tags to “warn” you about the themes that I’m trying to explore in my tale. Please tell me what you think about that… and anything else too, of course.


Nikolaus gazed at his wife, Lauren, a beautiful, dark-skinned woman; a wet dream on legs with a perfect, voluptuous figure, full round breasts with a large dark areole and thick long nipples, perky black woman’s ass and long shapely limbs. He had imported her from Jamaica during his first visit to the Caribbean to find himself in the rich reggae culture of her homeland. When the smoke cleared he had to admit that he’d not done too badly for someone not in complete possession of his faculties.

“Good morning, Mrs. Lindborg!”

“Good morning, Stig!”

Nikolaus frowned. Again? How many times had the gardener come in during this month?

“You’re looking great as usual, Mrs. Lundborg!”

“I could say the same for you, Stig!” Lauren giggled, glancing slyly at Nikolaus.

“What!” Nikolaus exclaimed. “Are you flirting with our gardener?”

“No, I’m just being pleasant,” Lauren replied, innocently.

Stig was the son of the people next door and he mowed the Lundborg’s lawns to earn a little extra money before he went to his second year in college. Nikolaus had even considered giving him a break at the company, but for some reason he did not like the young man and so had kept him at bay. His dislike of the young man had intensified when he had noticed him watching a topless and sunbathing Lauren over the fence with his binoculars one day.

Trust Lauren to pick up on that and use it to make him jealous. He was going to teach her a lesson that she’d never forget! He grabbed his wife’s arm and dragged her struggling to the bathroom. He slammed the door.

“Let me go, Nikolaus! What is wrong with you?”

“Shut up!”

“What is the matter with…!”

“I said SHUT UP! Not another word from you!”

With that, he grabbed the front of her jacket and ripped it away, causing the buttons to fly. He wrestled it off her and dropped it on the floor.

“Stop that!” she shouted.

He grabbed at her bra and dragged that down, freeing her other breast and leaving her exposed to his hungry eyes. She covered herself with her free hand while trying to break free of his grasp but he just held her even tighter. God, he wanted her!

He wrestled her to the sink, forcing her to bend over. Pressing against her heavily with his body he grabbed both of her breasts and squeezed hard. She cried out in pain and mortification.

“What are you doing Nikolaus? Stop this!”

“It should be obvious by now, my dear,” he growled into her ear. “I’m going to milk you like a cow. I want to teach you that the only person allowed to look at these udders from now on will be me. There will be no more sunbathing while Stig is at home for the summer and there will definitely be no flirting with him and encouraging him to come here more than twice per month!”

And he squeezed even harder. He pulled and twisted her nipples and forced long streams of milk down the sink. He punished her by squeezing for all he was worth whenever she struggled and tried to escape him. Her firm milk-filled melons became softer and puffy under his 20-minute onslaught. She cried but he didn’t care, he held them like a vise and squeezed them until they were both painfully empty and she was breathing raggedly, begging him to stop; alternatively between declaring her innocence and desire only to take advantage of the unusually good weather and promising that she had learned her lesson.

“Not yet my dear,” he whispered gently into her ear. Then he leaned up and dragged at the waist of her skirt, popping the button there and bursting the zip. He dragged at her skirt and panties, tearing them down in one swift motion.

One-handed, he reached for the bottle of lubricant on the vanitory and rubbed some hastily on his engorged dong. Then he bent her over some more by slapping her roughly and eased himself into her ass.

She groaned and tried to pull away, but his grip on her was firm. He made her take him. Then once settled, herode her hard, finding a frenzied rhythm, reciting a series of new rules that she would have to observe from then on. He rode her until he was satisfied and he felt his cum explode warmly, deep in her body.

“Oh Go…” she groaned arching into him.

“Shut up!” he warned her, nipping her on her shoulders, nuzzling her hair, kissing her neck.

Eventually, he managed to pull himself out of her body and she slumped from the vanitory to the floor, her legs falling apart.

“Get up and get dressed, you have to go to work,” he said roughly.

She struggled to her feet after a while and limped to their bedroom to get a change of clothing.

“You are not wearing any underwear today so just a skirt and jacket,” he ordered hoarsely.

“You can’t be serious?” she said, annoyed. “You know that I need the support, Nikolaus,” she protested. “I don’t want to shine through my clothes and you know that that will happen if I don’t wear a bra. What

the hell is the matter with you? You know that we don’t take our sex life outside this house.”

“We do now… Everyone in your office will know the sort of slut that you are,” he smirked meanly.

“I beg your pardon!”

“You’re saying that you’re not a slut? Then why are you so wet?” he asked as he moved suddenly and plunged his finger into her throbbing cunt. He tickled her clit and she hung her head, trying to pull away

from him.

She stared at him warily and noticed a new kind of hunger in his eyes; a need to dominate her. It made her want to drop to her knees and swallow his cock whole but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how turned on she was. Not yet anyway.

She complied, choosing the loosest fitting things that she could find. She kept her body turned away from him, suddenly shy, but trying to remain righteously indignant at the way in which he had treated her.

Nikolaus noticed as she stormed away from him breasts jiggling and glutes bunching, the effect of her high heels, that she could hardly walk and that where the material touched her, her nipples hardened and signalled her arousal to the world. He smiled, they would play later, but in the meanwhile, they would have to endure the day at work.

Nikolaus sighed as Lauren strode into her office, her back straight, her head held high. She’d caught his eye as she climbed out of the car and winked at him. He knew that she must be sore all over but she’d die before letting the people in the office know that.

Look at her! She belongs to ME! Nikolaus thought joyfully. I still want her. We’ve just fucked like mad dogs and I still want more! What the hell is happening to me? What did they say in that movie? ‘Once you go black, you never go back…’ Hell no! Why would anyone give up this much of a good thing?

His Lauren would do ANYTHING with him. They’d exhausted all of his fantasies in the three years that they were married and were well on the way with the ones that he didn’t even know he had! Her fantasies had shocked him at first but he’d decided to be open-minded and so plumbed the depths of his hitherto unsuspected dark side. He’d never hurt a woman before meeting her while in exile in her homeland in the exotic Caribbean. He didn’t think that he could, but she loved him so much for what he did for her that it led to frequent encounters like this morning when he milked her like a cow over the bathroom sink before raping her ass; punishment for trying to make him jealous by flirting with their neighbour. Oh Jeez… he was getting hard again!

“Hello Nikolaus.”


Nikolaus blushed. He hadn’t wanted to be caught staring at Lauren like a lovesick schoolboy; and in any event, he had to get to his own work. It would be a long day of meetings. He didn’t know how he’d manage to concentrate through them all but he’d have to try. He turned away and waved heartily before the woman could notice his hard on.

“Running late” he called out as he fled.

He’d expected her. He’d wondered about her all day. She came at about 3 o’clock, clutching some files to her chest to hide herself. He was chatting with his secretary when she entered his office. As CEO of his own company, Nikolaus felt blessed to have the dedicated staff that he did. This staff included his wife.

“Have you got a minute?” Lauren asked.

“Sure, we’re just finishing up here,” His Girl Friday, Astrid smiled. She packed up her papers quickly. “Come to check up on your husband?”

“No, not really, I’ve come to discuss the schematics for the new IT protocol with the boss. The bid’s next week and we need to be ready. I have some ideas that should seal the deal for us…”

“Aahhh! Sounds good! Let me leave you to it then…” Astrid said leaving the room, graciously.

“Do you think she believed that?” Nikolaus asked when they were alone.

“Not really, but at least she can tell people that you’re in a meeting with Strategic R&D.”

“I’m sure she’d have done that anyway. We need to get her some flowers when this is over. She’s a gem!” Nikolaus declared. “So, what exactly, can I do for you?”

“Gosh Nikolaus! Lauren groaned. “They hurt. I need some relief… Please!’

“Please what?” he deadpanned.

“Please help me,” she said more shyly.

“Please help you to do what?” he insisted.

“Nikolaus, please!” she whispered desperately as she clutched at him, trying to bring his head to snuggle at her chest.

Nikolaus resisted. Ah, yes! This was going to be good. He’d see how long it would take her to realise that she was still in punishment.

“Are you trying to say that your breasts are engorged? Do your nipples hurt because you need to be milked again?” They both stared at each other in shock; neither quite believing the words coming from his lips.

Okej then…

“Could you be more crude, Nikolaus?” she asked smirking, breaking character. She had had to work hard on his “dirty talk” and it seemed that the lessons were paying off at last.

“Be careful, my Dear; you were the one who came to me for help, remember?” he smiled lazily at her, the cat about to get the cream.

“So are you going to help me or not?

“Okej, take your clothes off, let me see the size of the problem we have here.”

“Take my clothes off? All of it? she asked wide-eyed.

“No, leave your shoes and stockings on,” Nikolaus whispered, staring straight into her eyes.

Lauren broke eye contact first and reached desperately for the buttons of her jacket. She hung the garment on the back of a nearby chair and turned to face her husband defiantly. His mouth watered at the sight of her breasts heaving from her shallow breathing.

“I said that you’d be wearing only your shoes.”

“Not here Nikolaus!” Lauren whispered frantically. She was much braver at home than in the public domain.

“Outside in the lobby then? Nikolaus asked innocently.

They both giggled.

“Okej, here!” she said stripping from her waist down after a while. She unconsciously tried to cover herself with her hands. She bowed her head, unable to look at her husband.

“Remove your hands from there,” Nikolaus said sternly. “Do not ever try to hide yourself from me again. When I say I want to look at you, I expect an unimpeded view. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Nikolaus; I understand,” she snapped.

“Yes Sir,” he corrected her gently.

She sighed. Nikolaus took his time staring at her magnificent boobs. Then his eyes raked down her body to her fat cunt. It was trimmed neatly, not shaven; and the hair glistened with her juices.

“Please…” she began squirming, sexily, under the weight of his gaze.

“Shut up,” he ordered. “Come to me,” he said softly. “NOW!” he barked when she hesitated. She came to him quickly, the rustle of her stockings inflaming him further. He pulled her to him. “Now tell me what you want me to do for you.”

“I need you to suck me, Sir,” she whispered, grinding against him like a pole dancer. She thrust her swollen breasts up at him, begging, silently, for relief.

“Like this?” Nikolaus asked taking a sip at one of her teats. He didn’t latch on, and so the saliva-moistened nipple only glistened and hardened in the cool air as it popped noisily from his mouth.

“Please Nik… Please Sir!” she sobbed. “Please…” She pressed even harder into him, begging.

“I told you to shut up,” he reminded her.

And so he toyed with her: first sipping at one swollen teat then nibbling the other, then kissing the first before licking the second again and burying his face in her cleavage to bite her orbs… and beginning the cycle again, and again, and again, and again, and still one more time. All the time he did this he held her naked form still, pressed up against his own fully clothed body, by massaging her firm round ass, squeezing it, kneading it like dough, slapping it, slipping his fingers between the cheeks to tease the hole to her anus and dig insistently into her tunnel.

She dared not speak while he tortured her. She was limp with desire. If she opened her mouth she would scream and alert everyone in the building to what they were doing. She already guessed that he was going to deny her satisfaction and she could only hope that it would only be until they got home.

Feeding and putting little Jonas to bed seemed to take forever. The baby would not settle down despite three stories and a song. Eventually Nikolaus went to Lauren’s rescue promising his son that he would take him to the zoo if he went to sleep like a good boy.

Nikolaus closed the door. It would be counterproductive to awaken the child. They were alone at last. Hours of sexual frustration meant that there was no need for further foreplay and so they fell on each other like two starving animals after the same choice morsel. A second ruined suit for the day and Lauren was on her back, naked, clutching desperately at Nikolaus; forcing him to mount her in a classic missionary embrace. She was soaking wet and he painfully hard; he sliced into her like a hot knife through butter.

“Oooohhhh, yessssssssssss, Nikolaus please NOW,” she sobbed.

He understood and this time he latched on to her swollen breast, and he suckled her while his cock nailed her to their bed.

“Ooooohhhh Baby! Yesssssss, yessssss, yesssssssss… Harder! Yesssss! Oooooohhhhh yesssss.”

It didn’t last long. It couldn’t; they were both too far gone after his extraordinary teasing in a long day of waiting for each other. It only took the edge off though and after 15 minutes of lazy cuddling they were at it again; a gentler sampling of each other’s body this time, a lick here, a nibble there and sips, kisses and caresses everywhere. A worshipful pas de deux in which they showed each other how in love they were.

Although this is a teacher/student story, please rest assured that Evie is over 18!

Evie James chewed absently on her pen, her chin resting on her hand, elbow on the desk as she stared towards the man who had long been the subject of her daydreams. Her eyes melted away his black shirt, imagining what might lie underneath. Would he be hairy? Smooth? Waxed? She imagined deftly unfastening those shirt buttons, running her hands across the planes of his chest, his nipples. Maybe she might kiss him, and then –


She jerked out of her reverie with a start, elbow slipping off the desk. Oh, shit. He was looking right at her. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks.

“I — er – sir?”

“I asked you whether you could provide some insight as to why our protagonist acts the way she does in the opening chapter. Obviously not.” He looked at her with disdain, turning to address someone else. “Carla? Perhaps you can fill in the gaps in Ms James’ knowledge.”

Evie slumped down in her seat as Carla, ever happy to oblige, fixed the class with a dazzling smile and a bat of her eyelashes. As she watched the other girl’s mouth move, her mind was again elsewhere. She was fucking up this class. Badly. Something had to give.

The bell rang to signal the end of the session, and Evie let out a sigh of relief. She clumsily slid her belongings into her bag and made to leave the room with the other students. She was almost at the door when he spoke, not even looking up from his desk.

“Evie. A word.”


She hesitated and then moved to stand in front of his desk, dropping her bag on the floor, suddenly uncomfortably aware of his proximity. The thing was, she knew she wasn’t the only one who wanted him, and it wasn’t as though she could help it. He wasn’t that much older, really — fifteen years, tops — and so worldly, so clever. He had lived. In a way she despised herself for it. A crush on her teacher. It was so adolescent she felt like punching herself. Surely this was something she should have grown out of years ago, not carried across to college. She was 18 years old, for goodness’ sake. This was ridiculous.

He still hadn’t looked up at her. She cleared her throat and saw the smallest hint of a smirk playing about the corners of his mouth.

“I’ll speak to you when I’m ready, Evie. Have some patience.” He finished the line he had been writing, carefully placed the lid back on his pen and looked up at her. “Have you finished your assignment? You know it was due last week.”

“I — no.” Evie looked down at her feet. “I haven’t. I’ve been having some trouble at home and –”

“I don’t care. You knew full well what was required of you when you signed up for this course. You’re lazy, girl. Too busy daydreaming to focus on the task at hand. I’ve spoken to the department head and she agrees with me; we can’t carry on like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“You get that assignment to me tomorrow — first thing, by 9 o’clock — or we’ll have to ask you to leave the course.”

“Sir! That’s impossible — there’s no way I can do it.” Evie’s mind raced, panic flooding her body. She had tried to start the assignment so many times, but each time something more important had come up. There was no way she could have it complete by tomorrow.

An idea popped into her head, one so ridiculous that she dismissed it immediately. But it was persistent, and kept coming to the front of her mind. It was something she had read, seen in the dirty videos she secretly watched at home — but this was real life — surely it would never work? A little voice inside her head piped up, arguing with her rational side. Do you want to get kicked off the course? It’s got to be worth a try.

“Sir.” She almost cringed as the word left her mouth, trying as hard as she could to make it sound as sultry as possible. “Maybe… maybe there is something else I can do…” There was an awkward pause as her words hung on the air between them. She felt a blush spread from the roots of her hair down throughout her entire body. He stared at her for a moment, almost disbelieving, and then let out a harsh bark of laughter.

“Are you seriously suggesting that I fuck you to let you stay on the course? Jesus, Evie. Have some self-respect. Besides,” he added with another smirk, “I know it’d be more for you than me anyway.”

“I — I don’t –”

“Oh, come on, Evie. I’m not stupid. I know what you’re thinking about when you daydream in my classes. I’ve seen you pouting at me.”

Oh, god. Evie had never wanted to disappear more in her entire life. Here she was, failing her class, making a complete idiot of herself, and he was mocking her. This was awful. She straightened her shoulders and stood as tall as she could, trying to seem in control.

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll have the assignment to you first thing tomorrow. Was that everything?”

He paused and leant back in his seat, looking her up and down.

“One more thing. Show me your tits.”

“What?! But — you said — “

“I’m not going to use sex as a means to let you stay on the course. But I want to see your tits. Show me.”

Her heart pounded, and almost without thinking her hands came to the hem of her shirt, ready to pull it up. But then she stopped, and looked at where she was, the grubby classroom and the door ready to open at any moment.

“I don’t think I can, sir.” He shrugged.

“Fine. Suit yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, returning to the papers he had been going over. She hesitated. Was that it? He couldn’t want to see them that badly if she was so easily dismissed. And she couldn’t do it anyway, but if that was the case, why couldn’t she bring herself to leave?

Her hands shook. She closed her eyes as she grasped the front of her t-shirt, lifting it up over her stomach, over her chest, clumsily tugging her bra up so that her bare breasts were exposed to the cool air of the classroom. She opened her eyes. He wasn’t looking. She cleared her throat again. He looked up at her without expression, and then stood up and began to walk around to the front of the desk. She took an instinctive step back and stumbled as her foot became tangled in the strap of her bag.

“Don’t move.” He stood directly in front of her, eyes fixed on her breasts. She watched as his left hand moved to grasp one of her breasts, fingers expertly tweaking her hard nipple. She bit her lip to stop from crying out. His other hand, she realised with a mixture of horror and pleasure, was tracing a path up her thigh. He gripped the top of her leg, his thumb pushed between her thighs, trapped in the heat there. “Unfasten your jeans.”

Dumbstruck, she did as she was told, fumbling with the button and zip. He grasped the waistband of her jeans and pushed them down her legs, not all the way, but enough to allow him to slide his hand inside and down the front of her panties.

“Just as I expected, Evie. You want me to finger fuck you, don’t you? I’ve never felt such a wet little cunt.” She stared down at his wrist disappearing into her jeans, unable to speak as two of his fingers slid inside her. He didn’t look at her at all as his hand began to move, his fingers pushing roughly in and out of her cunt, his thumb grazing across her swollen clit. She let out a gasp as he slid a third finger inside her, stretching her so that it was almost uncomfortable. At the same time she found herself bucking against his hand, silently begging for release, pressing against his fingers.

His other hand was still groping at her breast, roughly squeezing and rolling her nipple between the fingers and palm of his hand. As he pinched her nipple so hard that she cried out, it suddenly hit her: her orgasm smashed over her in waves, and she ground down on his hand, wanting to feel him as deeply inside her as possible. As the waves died away she slumped forwards slightly, panting as she tried to get her breath back. His hand slid out of her, away from her body.

The orgasmic fog that had built up around Evie began to rapidly clear, and she realised with a jolt where she was. What had she just let happen? Fuck, fuck, fuck. As she fumbled to pull her jeans up and get them fastened, he returned to his seat behind his desk, calm and smooth as though he hadn’t just been knuckle-deep inside her.

“That will be everything then, Evie. Don’t forget to have that assignment to me by tomorrow morning.”

She nodded dumbly, picked up her bag and almost ran from the room. Tomorrow’s class was going to be interesting, then…

A bus. An ordinary bus on an ordinary day. Its not peak hour any more, I’ve worked late and the time has passed since the heavy tussle that comes with the afternoon. Now things have slowed down with more places to sit on each vehicle. The book I am trying to read isn’t good. I look up and about. Such is the world that we live in, few people are doing the same. Even those without a phone to play with or a friend to talk to, stare ahead squarely at nothing, as if real life is a distraction.

A man sits behind me, four seats further back. He catches my eye. Grins. His sea blue eyes are luminous, his stubble unpracticed, and his impromptu happiness breaks an otherwise handsome face into an expression of lopsided mischief. Who wouldn’t be hooked? My heart pounds. I look away. The driver breaks unexpectedly and elderly passengers make annoying noises of disapproval as they bend forward, riding the motion, their old bodies like carriages at a rail yard suddenly brought to a halt.

I look out the window to catch a glimpse of my own reflection in the day’s fading light and open my face up into a smile. I read somewhere if you are happy enough to smile when no one is watching, you must really mean it. Someone is watching me today. Blue eyes from the back seat makes me self conscious.

A colleague told me I looked like a nurse earlier, my work shirt is blue and white check. It accentuates my breasts and I don’t mind that it brings to mind a uniform. I’ve left the morgue and I like to pretend I have been at an office, working somewhere that smells less like disinfectant and has a view, preferably of water and trees.

Blue eyes focused in my direction cause the hairs on the back of my neck to tingle. A few delicious minutes pass by. I shift in my seat, watch members of the geriatric community pick their way carefully down the aisle and out into the strange, suspended, autumnal sunset on the street, their large, practical handbags held with purpose under fleshy, under-used arms.

I flinch. The man at the back of the bus shows me a dimple and I imagine he might share my sense of humour. I pause to scratch an itch on my leg. My stockings dip under the weight of my nails and I’m careful to alleviate the itch with a featherlight touch. These are my last pair.

Blue eyes gets up from the back of the bus. My stomach lurches. If he leaves it will just be me and the sky, the high pitched noise of the bus breaks at each stop and row after row of shops and houses. He doesn’t get off. The action of his hand curling around the arm rest near my shoulder has a sensual flavour, as though he’s caressing skin, not the thin aluminium rail.



He sits behind me. I swivel to look. I want to start a conversation but my throat is dry.

“Your eyes are questioning.”

“This is my poker face.”

He laughs. It’s magic. I bite my lip.

“I’m Paula.”


“Hi Tim. Want to come home with me?”

I haven’t thought about the words, they come out of my mouth before I’ve willingly formed them and it leaves me with a strange sensation in my middle. Say yes. I don’t want to fail.

“I might…?”


“Paula are you always this forward?”


I glance out the window and realise my stop is coming up. I ring the bell. Up the front of the bus feet shuffle as the elderly prepare themselves for the stop. It puts my nerves on edge. We grind to a halt. I get up without looking back. I can sense the heat his body gives off as he follows me. The bus pulls away in a blast of hot air and brake noise. Highway sounds hide my confusion. Tim gestures for me to lead the way. I start walking.

After only four paces, maybe five, he tugs on my arm and I lurch to a halt. I hadn’t realised I was practically running. His palm is warm and calloused as it slips into mine. We don’t say anything. I start off once more, slower this time, towing him away from the heavy noise of the street.

We take a turn, heading further away from the steady traffic and into cool, overhanging peppermint gums lining the road.

“Wait!” he says “Are you real?”

“I don’t know.” It comes out in a whisper.

I want him to kiss me. Silence feels like foreplay. I’m angry at the mundane, suburban setting. In the world of my imagination my handsome stranger would tug me into an alleyway. We would embrace with passionate, frantic urgency.

I look up from my own thoughts into unsettling azure blue. I can’t bear to keep staring. We’re holding hands, facing each other like lovers. He uncurls his fingers, releasing me. I feel the cool afternoon air where his palm has been connected to mine. He raises his hands to my face, encircles my cheeks in an intimate gesture. I catch my breath.

“Do you want me?”

He leans forward and kisses my nose. I brush the softness of my cheek through his waiting hand, eyes closed. I don’t answer the question, I don’t feel I need to. I just wait.

“Do you come here often?”

“Every day.”

Humbled. Obtuse.

He strokes his thumb across my lower lip. I know my torso trembles. I can feel my body reacting to his touch and I can hear it too, in my quiet, jagged breaths.

The not knowing is over. I stretch up on tippy-toes and connect my lips to his. Hot and full, a reward for all the pissing about. I assess their weight, time and again before drawing the courage to press for an open-mouthed gesture. He complies. The afternoon threatens rain. Tim tastes of salt and aniseed, promise and apricots. He pulls away. I don’t know what he sees.

“Can we go somewhere?”

I smile, open my eyes wide and grin like the world is winning. My familiar street fades and I start to look at the surrounds as though I have never seen them before. He doesn’t take my hand as we move off. We don’t speak.

In the hall at the apartment block I fumble for my keys. For a moment I’m nervous. He slides a warm hand across my kidney as I rummage in my bag. I forget what it is to be nervous. It’s a game, a foregone conclusion.

I open the door to my rooms and we go into the silence together. I take a drink of water and look across at him as I down the lukewarm liquid. I imagine his cock in his pants and how it might taste. I close my eyes, letting the water run over my tongue in the darkness. When I reopen them he stands with his hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground. His brown hair obscures the expression on his face. He plays with his feet, leaning on the arches, balancing and then bringing them flat to the floor.

Tim looks up. Clears his throat.

“Come here.”

Before I’ve closed the distance between us entirely I’ve started work on the buttons of his shirt. It’s a light plaid, not dissimilar to mine and I want it gone. It feels like I’m unwrapping a present. He brushes my hair back behind my ear, assisting me and at the same time adding a tingling sensation to my face, my neck and the zero-ing heat in my middle.

A gentle finger under my chin draws my eye line away from small, clear buttons. This time it’s Tim who leans in, offering his lips for an embrace. The moment feels quiet, fragile, a palpable amount of trust in the air. In my minds eye our passion explodes like sex in a foreign film, all heaving breaths and rank, rabid movement as the participants devour one another in love play. Tim takes his time. He presses kisses on my mouth as though savouring the taste.

With my eyes closed I will him to hurry up. I don’t want gentle, I don’t want affection. My body sings to be fucked. I lean in, opening my mouth, our teeth click. My eyes are closed as I fumble for shirt buttons, clearing the material from his chest, bending my head, biting his nipple. He squirms, swats me away. His eyes are a deeper blue, steeped in lust. I lick my lips and flick his belt buckle.

Tim takes a run at my shirt, foregoing buttons, a few of them pop as he slides material over my breasts, over my head, discarding the garment carelessly on the floor. I’ve a light pink lace bra and my nipples stand to attention trapped beneath it. Tim bends his head and adds moisture to the lace, embracing first one aureole, then the other in a sloppy, covetous kiss.

“Oo Oh.”

I can’t help it. I squeeze my thighs together. He rubs the front of my skirt, cupping what he can find of my pussy in my tight, navy work skirt.



“Tell me what you want?”

I open my eyes. He drags a thumb across the wet material on my nipple, expertly distracting my thoughts.

“I want you to take all your clothes off. I want to watch you do it. By the time you get to naked I want your stiff cock to spring free, begging to be buried in me. I want you to stand in front of me and hold onto it. So I can see you throbbing to fuck a woman. Then I want you to go find my bedroom. I’ll get undressed. I’ll follow you and I want you to start by eating my pussy. What I want most is to have your head buried between my legs… You know, you’ve got beautiful eyes”

“And you’ve a dirty mouth.” His voice is uncommonly deep, desirous.

I take a breath, close my eyes to steady myself.

“Will you do it?”


Tim unclasps my bra and removes the lace garment. My breasts feel heavy, needy. He cups them in both hands and slides his palms up my torso. I snap the catch on his pants. My shaking thumb and forefinger find the zipper, the cotton of his jocks and the cock beneath. His adam’s apple bobs in amazement. I take the flesh and grasp his meat in my hand. It grows and grows. Tim kicks off his shoes.

He leads me to the couch, just a few steps away and seats me facing him. We kiss. It’s an encounter loaded with promise and heavy breathing. I revel in it. Our messy tongues find warm, moist flesh. Tim rips my tights. He rolls them down, off my thighs and shimmies up my skirt. My knickers are damp and he tugs my hips towards him, I slump in the seat. He drags my knickers to one side and tastes my pussy, wetting the material and my flesh with his tongue. It’s delicious. I squirm, reaching to bury my hands into his hair.


My knickers slide off in his deft hands and I spread my thighs wide. Tim licks and toys with my clit. I tremble, I ache. I ply at his shoulders, willing him to break contact with my wet skin. I want his cock to slide inside me. I can feel an orgasm blooming.

He inserts digits. I lose control. On the verge of orgasm I pull on his arms. Come to me. Don’t let me die in your arms. Lust and blackness engulf my vision. I feel him pull back, finally, moments before my surrender. He sits astride the coffee table, creating distance between us. His proud, protruding member is hard and thick. I lick my lips, crawl on my knees towards him but fail to take the meat in my mouth. Instead we exchange sticky kisses, he tastes of sweat and me. It’s exhilarating. I waste no time beginning to slide my pussy down his pole.

His blue eyes are hidden behind dilated irises. Tim’s breath is short and his chest heaves. I feel so proud. We both look down at the connection of our sexes, my pussy juice coating his shaft. Before I’m sunk full of cock, he braces his heels and moves us, until I’m buried in the couch, my back to the cushions, cock meat all the way in.


I bite my lip bury my nose in his neck. I don’t want him to stroke. I feel sated, played, he’s all the way inside me and I’m full up, dominated, aroused. With his big hands, Tim tilts my hips. His thumbs press upon my hip bones and his cock begins to glide in and out. Blue-black eyes feast on my expression. I stare back up at him, relishing the unfamiliar feeling of being taken, ridden, enjoyed.

I use my hands to steady us and make an effort to push back. The couch is too forgiving and the sensation dwindles. Wordlessly we switch to the floor, dragging a cushion for my pelvis and another for my head as we shift. My toes touch his ears as he drives into my softness. I’m alive. I tingle with knowledge and the precipice beckons. I don’t know when I’ll fall.

Tim leans back, he takes a moment to watch his cock as it hides and reveals itself. Then he licks a thumb and thrusts it towards my clit. I grind on his hand and explode into shards of delirium. Tim stops the action of his fingers and shifts his weight. He pistons into me, shaking with the effort of it. I hold onto his back, his butt; spent and waiting for him to cum.

He doesn’t. Instead he withdraws, I keep my legs spread and he beckons my hands, willing me to jerk him off as I lie underneath him. Blue eyes wander over my prone body. I feel him go extra-specially hard in my hands. He cups my breast. I bite my lip and concentrate on the action of pumping his purple cock. He shudders and a ribbon of semen explodes onto my belly. His cock pulses, still in my hand. Spoof runs down my digits.

He drops his weight onto his hands and leans down to kiss me on the lips. He’s panting more than I and we are both slightly sticky with sweat. I let go of his penis. I wipe my hand along the cooling cum on my belly and taste it, just for effect. I get dimples as payoff. Tim flops down onto the floor at my side and for a moment we both stare at my familiar ceiling.

Shyly I slide a palm over his hip. I lean on one elbow, looking at my freshly-found lover. After a moment he opens his eyes.



“I’ve never picked up a woman on public transport before.”

“I wanted to fuck you on the bus.”

“You have a terrible poker face.”

Tim kisses my nose.

It never fails. When I think of you, my nipples seem to stay hard constantly and my pussy throbs at the slightest provocation. I fantasize about sex with you, about the sights, smells, and sensations of our sex at its most raw, passionate level. I think about it, dream about it, I am constantly reminded of past erotic exploits we’ve shared, throughout the warm, sunny days and steamier, hot nights. I CRAVE you in my life, the man with whom I can express myself, my uninhibited, unashamed, primitive, primal, sexual self.

I need you lover, I need to let down my guard with you, express myself without fear or shame, when I fantasize about you I know that I can share my body with someone who cares about me outside the bedroom and who desires me completely inside it. I want hours and hours of hot, sweaty fucking that leaves me drained of my every bodily fluid. I want to make a huge wet spot on the sheets and then fuck those same sheets off the bed.

I want you. I want MY lover. I don’t want to share you; I don’t want to question your fidelity. I want to suck your dick like no other woman has ever done, no; I want you to fuck my mouth like you fuck my pussy. I want to lick every inch of your stiff erection; I want to swallow you whole, spit running down your balls. I want you to play with my nipples while I’m blowing your mind and tell me that you love the way I give you head. I want to lick your nuts and feel them rolling around on my tongue. I want to spread those beautiful asscheeks and look at your asshole as my mouth waters. I need to let my tongue flutter softly, gently over your sensitive skin, making you jump and moan.

Just when you’re going out of your mind, when you think you can’t take any more pleasure, I will roll you over and make a feast of your dick again, stopping just when you’re about to blow. It’s not that I don’t want to taste that hot cum; I want you to save it for me. I want you to pump your sperm deep inside me, to be driven to unload your ball juice deep in my pussy because you crave me so much.

I need you to fantasize about me. Close your eyes and let your mind drift away with images and sensations of our intense love-making. There is no greater pleasure than feeling you pleasure my nipples, licking them softly, sending delightful sensations directly to my clit. Feeling your tongue gently flick those hardened brown peaks, cupping my full breasts to your mouth, back and forth, it’s indescribable. Kissing your way down my body, I can spread my long legs for you, giving you access to my treasure. I can feel your masculine fingers part my moistened pussy lips; expose my hardened clit, your warm lips just inches from my aroused sex. Hearing you inhale the scent of my wet cunt tells me that you crave me, my essence, all that I am.

I long to feel your fingers invade me, manipulate me, to make me bite my lip trying to hold back my moans and sounds of pleasure. Knowing me so intimately, you would know that a flood of profanity will follow the minute you start licking my juicy slit, tenderly coaxing my hardened clit from its hood. Giving you all access, pulling my legs back to my chest, exposing myself completely to you, feeling decadent and sexy being so vulnerable, I want to feel your tongue lick me from my clit to my asshole and every inch in between. I need your fingers in my asshole while you softly suck my clit, my legs wrapped around your head, grinding my pussy on you, holding you to my mound while I try to cum so hard in your mouth you think you’re drowning, coating your face with my juices as I BEG for you to fuck me.

When you think of me, make no mistake about it; fucking me is what I want. I can fantasize about all sorts of foreplay, even about how adventurous we could be as a couple, playing in public or playing with others. But all the mental stimulation in the world always ends up at the same destination. I want to be penetrated by a beautiful, strong, loving Black man. I miss the sensation of having that dick rub my pussy lips, teasing me, sliding up and down my slit, making me anxious and excited for that split second when we connect, that instant when I feel you enter me and we become one. I can’t think of a better sensation than feeling that thick, hard dick thrusting into me, pumping me, filling me with ecstasy.

If there is a heaven, it’s having your full weight on top of me, hearing you whisper in my ear, “Damn baby, your pussy feels so good on my dick, I love you,” with my nails digging in your ass, pulling you deeper and deeper inside me. And I crave you deeper, harder, faster, fucking me with all your might. From behind, I want you to grab my hips, to feel my tits swinging while your thrusts with all your might as you put your finger in my ass. On top of you, I want to use your dick like my dildo, making myself cum, rubbing my clit up and down the shaft of your penis while I feed you my tits. Finally, with my legs pressed back and your tongue in my mouth, I long for that explosive finale when I can feel your dick POUNDING me, making me scream, tears in my eyes and ready to receive your precious gift when I’m getting thoroughly fucked.

Copyright 2010 AfroerotiK

July 2018
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