Alexis Haley had blonde hair, penetrating blue eyes and fascinating lips that always seemed to be frowning. She was a graduate student at Priapis State University where I was finishing my bachelor’s in psychology. I had met her two years ago when I first switched my major from English to Psych. She had ignored me, which wasn’t surprising. I’d had a tendency to blend in and she was a hot, snooty senior who was about to graduate with honors.
Two years later, not only was Alexis Haley still hot and snooty, she now had authority as well. Yup, I hated to admit it, but I was hopelessly outclassed.
Miss Haley, as she insisted we call her, regularly ran labs for Doctor Octavian Bennis, the dictator of behavioral psych. The doctor was out for a week with the flu and so Miss Haley was now also covering his senior classes. It was a mixed blessing.
It was a sweltering September afternoon in Berridge, Ohio, and it was all anyone could do to keep their eyes open, much less focus on periodization of social evolution in rural Cuban, Haitian and Dominican populations. Apparently unaware of our intellectual and physical discomfort, Haley was continuing to lecture without mercy.
Perhaps it was the heat, perhaps the subject matter. Perhaps it was the fact that if all went well, I would be graduating in one month and had a serious case of senioritis. Regardless, at some point I realized I had completely tuned out what I was supposed to be learning and was basically just staring at my teacher. She stood in the front of the classroom wearing a short dark skirt and white blouse with the top several buttons open, exposing the gentle alabaster curves of her breasts. Her honey blonde hair was twisted artfully in a bun, held with two miniature black samurai swords.
Sweat glistened on her neck and I watched, rapt, as a liquid line ran down and disappeared under her shirt.
Damnit, dude, I thought. You gotta get a hold of yourself. I shook my head, trying to clear the heat from my brain. I needed an A in this class to keep my GPA in line. Haley’s cleavage wasn’t helping me concentrate at all. Okay, I could do this. Just had to listen. What was the class talking about?
“The evolutionary challenge,” she was saying, “for any third-world group is no greater than any other, regardless of socio-economic status. All developing nations struggle equally.”
A hand in the back went up. A dark-haired guy named Carlos disagreed, citing the example of some Congolese villagers fighting to stay alive in the middle of a brutal war. Surely, he argued, natives living in the jungle in Brazil wouldn’t struggle quite so hard.
“It would seem so on the surface,” Haley answered. “Men with machetes chopping off arms and legs randomly to prove their dominance is horrible, regardless of your background.”
Carlos nodded his agreement.
“Except,” she went on, “the Amazon is one of the deadliest places in the world to live. Comparing apples with killer apples, the Congo has only perhaps ten-thousand men at any given time fighting to kill or maim their perceived enemies. The Amazon has over a million varieties of deadly plants, animals and insects all at war for their own survival. One statistic I’ve heard says the average European without a guide in the Amazon lasts a total of eleven days before their death. That’s not including the indigenous tribes, many of whom are warlike. It may be horrific to have your hand chopped off at the wrist, but how much worse would it be to see your next-door-neighbor in a stew pot served as a main course?”
The class laughed and Carlos frowned and went silent. A smug smile touched Miss Haley’s lips. Then it disappeared. She was looking at me and somehow…
“…I might disagree?” I heard myself saying.
Wait, what? What the hell was I doing? Apparently I was arguing with her? I hadn’t planned on speaking up but the flush on Miss Haley’s cheeks with the heat was apparently short-circuiting my natural shyness.
“Ah, Mister Hall,” Haley said, locking her dark blue eyes on mine and smiling confidently. “So nice of you to join us.”
I usually didn’t add much to group discussions, on account of my natural desire to blend in with my surroundings. Social camouflage my dad called it. I called it fear of looking stupid. The class turned, vaguely amused, to Miss Haley’s next victim.
“So what do you disagree with?” Her voice was clear with a note of challenge in it.
My stomach did a small flip.
“Well, um,” I said. “Er…”
I didn’t know how to phrase it exactly, so I just decided to sit there and sound awkward. It’s not like I didn’t already look it.
“Er?” she asked. She was not impressed. Neither were my fellow students.
Think brain! I said. Whatever your issue is, please get it out of your system and then shut up!
My brain did not respond the way it was supposed to.
Not at all.
I planned to say “My mistake. Please continue.” Instead, what came out was “What about sex?”
The class was shocked.
There were quiet whispers, a rumbling of voices and somebody in the back hooted “Hell yeah!” A number students cracked up.
“Alright, settle down,” Haley said, rolling her eyes. “I know you all are psychology students so this subject is very special to you, but let’s try to keep it in your pants for the moment.”
She left the whiteboard and came around to the front of her desk. I caught a glimpse of her smooth legs as they disappeared under the soft black cotton of her skirt. She looked directly at me and my heart went into my throat.
“So what about sex, Mr. Hall? Please don’t mistake me, it’s certainly a vital subject. I simply fail to see how it relates to comparative social evolution.”
She frowned slightly, the edges of her lips turning down a fraction more than usual. I couldn’t say why, exactly, but the movement made heat rush towards the center of my body.
The class was now perfectly quiet, unwilling to miss a single syllable of this tête-à-tête.
“People who have sex less, um, that is to say,” I hesitated, trying to figure out where the hell I was going. Haley tapped a manicured pink nail against the desk impatiently. I was failing. Come on man, I begged. Please just stop talking.
Apparently I couldn’t stop.
“Species, uh…I mean groups of people, like the women of Lesbos or the Viking tribes, specifically the Nordic clans that were the ancestors of the modern Dutch…”
I could feel my palms sweating in my hands. I balled them into fists but the words were coming a little easier now. I had actually studied this subject last year for a project in human sexuality. As long as I could remember what the hell I was talking about.
“Um…” I fumbled for words. “Well, there are a series of historic peoples who were able to beat the evolutionary odds, so to speak, by coming together at a sexual…um…level…”
Yes, I thought frantically. Keep going. Don’t lose it.
“…that is,” I continued, “I mean, instead of fighting, they were, you know…”
“Fucking?” Haley finished.
The word, so casually from her lips, made me hard in my pants instantly.
The class roared. Haley grinned wickedly and right before she turned around towards the white board I could have sworn I saw her wink at me, but it had happened so fast I couldn’t be sure.
Whatever. Just keep going, I told myself. Just don’t lose it.
“Right,” I said, my heart still pounding. “I mean, um, like Brown and his partner studying the desert tribes and how they fought less, because, they were too busy doing other stuff.”
The class buzzed quietly. Haley, now back at the board, drew a vertical line and then at the bottom of the line drew a horizontal line. She wrote the words “Sexual Repression” on the vertical and then “Violent Culture” on the horizontal. She drew a diagonal line between them.
“In almost every instance,” Haley said, “there is a direct one-to-one ration of sexual repression and violence. Mr. Hall has made an interesting and potentially significant point. Just in the past two years there have been a handful of new studies, Brown and Littenger’s seven-year Saharan investigation chief among them, that suggest it may be possible to increase a civilization’s creative output if it could channel a man’s desire to destroy into his desire to procreate.”
A bell rang sharply. I jumped, startled. Students were diving for their bookbags and knapsacks. It was already 2:50pm. Class was over.
“Alright, no more learning for today,” Haley sighed. “On your way out make sure to pick up the material for Thursday’s test, including all three handouts from Spencer. Oh and Doctor Octavian wants to make sure you remember the test will also cover Balinski’s analysis of the Porcupine Machine, both the movie and the autobiography.”
The students were filing towards the door and I followed them. I needed to get out of the room and get some fresh air. I needed to figure out what the hell had just happened. Tucked in line between Rachel Linscombe and Daric Summers, I was almost free when I heard a soft voice behind me.
“Mr. Hall, could I have a moment.”
Crap, I thought. It wasn’t a question. I turned around and found my hands sweating. The last three students filed past me and then the room was empty except for the instructor and me.
She bent down and picked up her brown laptop bag. As she did, the material on her dark miniskirt stretched taut over a well-toned ass and I couldn’t stop myself from staring. She stood back up and I suddenly became very interested in the ceiling.
“Yes?” I replied, trying not to sound guilty.
Haley was staring at me, her frown made her soft lips pout just slightly. I tried to hold her eyes, dark blue and full of something I couldn’t comprehend. A natural force, like a thunderstorm. She blinked at me and then walked past me and out into the hallway.
I followed, falling behind. I found myself staring at the way her four-inch heels seemed to exaggerate the movement of her hips, rolling smoothly first to one side and then back, her ass hypnotic in its rhythm. I’ve noticed some women seem uncomfortable in heels, as if they’ve never quite been able to balance on the little stiletto point. Alexis Haley looked like she went running in heels for several miles every day after class.
It took a few seconds before she noticed I had fallen behind. She turned around and caught me ogling her openly. I was rewarded with a disapproving look.
“Well? Are you coming or not?” she said.
“Honestly?” I said, and before I could stop myself, some inner, uber-confident bastard said, “I apologize, Miss Aleck. But I have to admit I was enjoying the view.”
My part-time psychology professor froze. The blood in my heart went to ice. I had gone too far. I didn’t know why I had said it. It was a terrible idea.
I was about to apologize when she took three steps back to me and then kept going, stopping only a few inches from my face. We were so close I could feel the heat from her body. She smelled like fresh peaches and something else I couldn’t place. Something darker. I could feel blood pounding in my wrists. A drop of sweat gathered at her temple and slid down the contours of her cheek.
Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed.
“Mr. Hall,” she said, her voice low, “I assume you are aware of the sexual harassment guidelines at Priapis University?”
Her chest moved as she breathed and her breasts rose and fell. I swallowed.
“Um,” I said. “Uh…”
She was so close that I was having trouble concentrating on anything except her lips. They curved downwards sweetly at the ends. This explained the riddle of why she always looked like she was frowning.
“Go ahead,” she said impatiently. “Spit it out.”
My stomach turned over.
“You…” I stammered, “you mean inappropriate comments, for example. Like why you’re not supposed to stare, I mean say sexual things to a fellow student…or…”
“Or a teacher,” Haley finished.
“Even if they deserve it,” I said and immediately bit my lip. Apparently I had a secret inner wish to get expelled from college and hell, maybe a quick trip to jail while I was at it. There was something about this woman that was re-routing all my circuitry.
Her eyes widened for a split-second and I had a terrifying urge to run down the hall. But I was frozen. Paralyzed.
The two of us stood silent. A strange combination of terror and defiance rushed over me. She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something, then closed it. Her burning eyes never left mine. Finally, she broke the quiet. Her voice was businesslike and stiff.
“Mr. Hall, I’m going upstairs to the teacher’s lounge,” she said, “where I have a great deal of work to do. I’m sure you have similar pressing needs to take care of.”
She took a step back, her chest rose and fell several times as if she was breathing deeply. She turned and started towards the upstairs classrooms and then paused.
“I would advise extra time,” she said, over her shoulder, “on the Balinski for Thursday. It’s difficult on the surface…but once you’re inside…”
Her face had a strange, turbulent expression that I had never seen before and couldn’t read. Then she was disappearing up the steps, the crisp sound of her heels on the wood fading as she went.
Damn, I thought, still staring after her. My heart was racing and I felt disoriented. What time was it? Where was I?
Focus man, I told myself. You need to get your shit together. You just managed to sexually harass your admittedly super-hot professor arguably three different times in as many minutes. This had to stop. I had to get the hell out of here before…
Once you’re inside
I shook my head. It didn’t make sense.
Whatever, I told myself. It didn’t matter how logical it was. The truth was I did have things to do. A lot of things. Important things. I had a gripload of statistics papers I owed Dr. Owen from when I had been sick two weeks ago. I still had a French paper that was due yesterday (Je jure, je suis en retard pour ma propre naissance). I had to co-ordinate the study group for our French presentation. My mom had left three messages on my phone about graduation hotel arrangements for my east-coast family. I was supposed to “swing by” the financial aid office and see Corky Nelson. Andrew was meeting me for a workout at five…
It’s difficult on the surface…but once you’re inside…
I did not remember climbing the stairs to the second floor of Grast Hall. Nor did I remember walking down the north corridor, past the watercooler and the massive map of Africa outside the Ethnic Studies department, or taking a left to the end of the hall. Yet somehow I had traveled this entire distance in a kind of delirious fog and now stood staring at the door that said “Psychology and Social Science” in black letters on bubbled glass.
The door was cracked open, but just barely.
I should have just opened the door and walked in. Or at least I should have knocked at the door. I did neither. Instead I found myself peeking furtively through the open crack into the psychology professor’s lounge.
I could only see the left hand side of the room and two office doors. One of the doors was closed and the lights were off. The other door was slightly open and I could see faint movement. Then I realized I was seeing a reflection of the fan. The psych department’s large, old-fashioned fan was blowing loudly in the room, oscillating back and forth. I couldn’t hear anything else.
It felt like I shouldn’t be here. Why was I peeping through the door into the teacher’s lounge? I looked back down the hall but the building seemed to be empty. There was a school picnic currently happening on the main grounds of Dover Field, which might explain where some of the students and teachers were. Plus it was hot. I reached up and felt my collar sticking to my neck. It was really hot.
The already aggressive temperature was even hotter up here on the second floor. Grast Hall was the oldest at Priapis University and had only recently been upgraded with modern air-conditioning. Apparently the AC hadn’t been fully installed yet. No wonder the place was deserted this afternoon.
The hair on the back of my neck went up. There were multiple psych professors with offices in this lounge. If anyone caught me, how was I going to look peeking through a barely open door?
That made me feel ridiculous. No, whatever I was doing I was going to do it openly. Yes, I told my told myself. Absolutely. But what the hell was I doing in the first place?
My brain compromised by helping me stand up straight, but instead of knocking on the door, I gently pushed it open and slipped inside.
The room was rectangular with a spacious inner quad of black leather couches surrounded on three sides by offices. Within the square of couches, a huge black marble table lay low and impressive. Inlaid on the marble were the words Inviglio En Partis Illimino En Fuego. Most of the table was covered with textbooks, clinical magazines and a few floral boxes of kleenex. I couldn’t see all the words but I know they were there; I had translated them the first time I had visited this room almost four years ago. The secret fire that illuminates the mind.
The sun streamed through the windows of the west facing offices, bronze light glinting off the steel handles of filing cabinets and the exposed surfaces of the polished marble. It took only a second in the room to realize the temperature had jumped another ten degrees. I could feel my shirt sticking to my chest.
A low sound cut through the whine of the fan and then it was gone. It barely registered but I was so keyed up at this point that I jumped anyway. My first thought was that it was an animal, but that made no sense. Was it possible the air was so hot I was hallucinating?
I looked around the room, trying to locate the source. The slightly open door was on the east side of the lounge, the room beyond it hidden in shadow. I heard the sound again, a little louder this time. I found myself tensing, nervous once again. I should definitely leave, I thought. Definitely.
Instead, I quietly moved toward the open door until I was close enough to see through the space into the office itself. My heart was hammering in my chest. I craned my neck to peer into the darkened room. It took my eyes several agonizing seconds to adjust to the light.
What I saw next rocked my entire universe.
Alexis Haley was thrown back in her chair, one leg on the ground, the other leg bent, heel firmly rooted against the edge of the desk. Her skirt was bunched up and underneath her, a pair of thin white panties had been discarded, forgotten on the ground. Her white blouse was unbuttoned halfway and a lace bra had been pushed down, revealing a glorious breast. Pink fingernails pinched and kneaded the small hard nipple. Her other hand was sunk deep into her center. From where I stood, her long, white leg obstructed my view of the penetration but I could watch the muscles in her arm tighten and twist. Her hips gyrated in tiny circles. Her mouth was open and I heard the low sound again, this time louder still. Her eyes were clamped shut. A tiny shadow of smeared mascara haloed her eyes. A single dark rivulet of black had begun to run down her cheek. She shuddered and hitched and the muscles of her leg clenched and released and clenched again.
I tried to process what I was seeing but my mind failed me utterly. My cock, on the other hand, throbbed painfully in my pants.
“Ohh huhhh,” Haley moaned, twisting her nipple. Then, apparently unsatisfied with only a single breast, she abruptly pulled the lace of her bra away from the other nipple and began twisting that one, evening the score.
Her hips were still undulating, bucking in a small, controlled rotation. Her hand disappeared further into the space between her trembling legs.
Unconsciously, I began to stroke myself through my pants. More than anything I wanted to free my dick, to allow myself the release that I suddenly, desperately needed.
Haley slipped her hands from between her legs and put three fingers into her mouth, sucking greedily. A thin trail of wetness lingered from her lips onto her fingers. She hesitated just a second, opening her eyes to stare at the juices. A small pink tongue reached out and licked her index finger.
God this girl was ramped up.
I grabbed my cock harder and tried to jerk it through the material but I was only managing to make myself more frustrated. Fuck it, I thought, as Haley’s fingers once again found her pleasure center. She moaned again and this time I unzipped my pants and pulled out the steel rod that was waiting. The skin of my cock was electric and I didn’t realize I had closed my eyes until there was a sudden gasp.
I opened my eyes, my heart crashing in my chest.
She was looking at me.
My heart stopped.
Haley had frozen, one hand covering her breast, the other still between her legs. My cock was jutting out of my pants, my hand gripped around the white-hot rod.
A lifetime passed while I thought of everything that was going to happen to me. Expulsion. Lawsuits. Jail. Castration. Oh man, I was fucked.
Completely and utterly fucked.
So fucked, in fact, that the only option left was to enjoy myself for the last few seconds I had left. So much fear and lust were flooding my system that I could no longer think logically. All I could do was stare in awe at the stunning woman in front of me.
Haley looked at me and then down to the huge erection in my hand and then back into my eyes. Amazingly, the corners of her lips turned up just slightly.
“I take it,” she said with a breath, “you are enjoying the view?”
Wait, what? I was dumbfounded. Was this actually happening? Did the woman of my dreams actually like me?
It took me a long time to realize she was staring at me and I remembered I was supposed to say something.
I had no idea what to say. Did she want me to be sexy? Aggressive? How do you respond to your teacher when she asks you if you enjoy watching her masturbate? My brain went through a hundred responses but none of them were right. If I screwed up here it was all for shit.
I had nothing.
Literally my brain was blank.
I had to say something.
A minute went by. A lifetime.
Please brain, I begged. Just let me show this girl how I feel about her.
“You…you’re beautiful,” I blurted.
And in that moment I knew it was the truth. Alexis Haley had always been gorgeous before and now, in the glow of her deepest intimacy, she was positively radiant.
She responded in a way I never would have imagined. Without taking her dark blue eyes from mine, Alexis Haley put her leg back down on the ground, stood up, and, ignoring the dress hitched around her waist, walked up to me. Then she gently pressed her lips against mine.
The world dissolved.
She pulled away and then kissed me again. Her lips were like wet satin and I could smell fresh peaches mixed with coconut and the dark redolence of her sex. The combination was more than I could bear.
I slowly pushed her away. Our lips separated with a soft smack and she leaned ever so slightly towards me as we parted. Her eyes asked me why I had separated us and I answered by taking a deep breath, filling my lungs with her fragrance, with the heat of the room, with everything. I let it out and gave her a sideways grin. She shook her head and laughed gently.
“This…” she breathed, “This is a terrible idea. Do you know how much…”
This time I kissed her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I kissed her deeply, our lips mashing together. Her tongue sought mine, wanting to taste me. The peach flavor gave way to peppermint in my mouth. I picked her up, my fingers reveling in the soft, tight skin of her naked ass and she instinctively wrapped her legs around me. I held her for a moment, simply enjoying the weight of her in my arms. She didn’t feel light in my embrace or heavy either. No, it was the substance of her that I felt. I was holding her, I was holding this beautiful woman and the strangest feeling came over me. It felt right to held her. Like I was supposed to hold her.
She kissed my neck, raining small kisses like snowflakes along my shoulder and I shuddered with pleasure.
I set her down on the desk and stepped back from her and we simply absorbed each other. I stood with my penis proudly erect, my belt unbuckled and my pants around my ankles. She leaned back on her elbows on the desk, her shirt and bra open revealing naked breasts, her black skirt crumpled around her waist, her legs apart, the thin coral pink lips of her pussy prominently on display.
I looked at her and she looked at me and suddenly the whole thing was so amazing, so ridiculous and so impossible that I couldn’t help but laugh. Then she was laughing too.
Haley leaned forward and curled her finger, making the come-here gesture and I went to her. She pushed her hips up to the edge of the desk and then lifted both legs until her ankles rested on my shoulders. I watched her close her eyes, waiting for me.
I realized I wanted her to wait. I began to kneel. When Haley felt her legs lowering, she opened her eyes, looking up with a sleepy but curious and slightly amused expression. A moment later they snapped wide as I took a deep taste of her pussy. I licked upwards from the bottom of her lips, dipping deep into the nectar of her honey and dragging my tongue upwards and settling right under the edge of her clitoris. She tasted like cloves here too. Cloves and arousal. I tasted her again and then again.
Haley moaned loudly. I gently sucked one of her thin pink outer lips and then the other. She curved her feet and rested them lightly on my shoulders. When I pulled away for a moment to look at her she shook her head reprovingly and flexed her calves, pulled me back towards her swollen mound. I held my ground and grinned back evilly.
“Kinda pushy aren’t you?” I said.
“Mmmm mmm,” she said, shaking her head. Then, somehow, she had slipped both hands around the back of my neck and pulled my tongue towards her clitoris.
I figured I could argue at this point. Make life even more difficult for her. Say no. Resist. But then I had an even better idea. I would take her to the edge but not let her come. Oh yeah, I thought. Torture. I would make her beg for it.
I let her pull my tongue to her clit and I fit my lips over it. Haley quivered with pleasure, her hands playing with my hair. Her fingernails lightly traced circles and strange runes on the skin of my scalp.
I sucked in, pulling the sensitive flesh up between my lips. In response, I felt her fingernails quickly sink into my neck. Pain and heat and pleasure all flared at the points of her nails; I couldn’t tell which.
“Oh…” She started with a tiny gasp of horror. Both of her hands instinctively flinched away. “I didn’t mean…I’m sorry…”
Without moving my mouth, I reached up with one hand and laced the thin, soft fingers of her hand with my own rougher counterpart. I looked deep in her dark blue eyes, squeezed her fingers and simultaneously sucked on her clitoris. She clamped her fingers against mine, her eyes a fury of blue as I pulled her clit into my waiting lips. I took her inside me, over and over, fucking her with my mouth. She clawed desperately for my other hand and the second my fingers found hers she cried out and came.
Well fuck, I thought. So much for torture.
Then I realized her spasming thighs were clamped down on both sides of my head. Her legs were stronger than they looked and I was surprised and actually a little bit worried when my head started hurting. A split-second later she released my head and flopped back onto the table, spent.
It took a few seconds before the circulation returned to my brain. Then again, it wasn’t like I was using it anyway. I stood up to admire my handiwork.
My beautiful professor was a still-life of post-orgasmic bliss. I was so turned on I could only absorb individual details. Sweat-smeared mascara. Wild, honey blonde hair matted dark to the sides of flushed cheeks. Fingers on one hand playing absently in the air currents of the sweltering room, almost as if conducting a silent symphony. Calves and feet hanging over the edge of the desk, toes on each foot alternately contracting as tiny aftershocks continued to roll through her.
I forced myself to take a mental picture for later. I wish I could have spent an hour just staring at her like this, but the painful rock-hardness of my cock simply couldn’t wait.
“Turn over,” I told her.
Haley opened her eyes wide, shocked at my sudden aggressiveness. But instead of arguing she flipped over and then slid down so her legs were both on the ground. Bent over the desk, her ass was now obscenely exposed. The bright pinkness of her sex and the darker pink of her star were vividly on display.
She turned her head and looked at me over her shoulder, eyes narrowing.
“What’re you thinkin’ there, sailor?” she said.
I thought that she might have the best ass in the world.
“I think,” I said instead, “that you have a fat ass.”
“Fucker,” she responded. Then she laughed, reaching back and grabbing an ass cheek. “I know, I know. No matter how much work I do, no matter how much time I spend on the treadmill, it’s still a ghetto booty.”
I stared, transfixed. She watched me watching her and then took her other hand back and spread herself open, her rosebud crinkling and then expanding. I felt myself, somehow, get even harder.
Without meaning to, I reached out and gingerly touched her flesh. It was hot, smooth, wet with sweat and taut under my finger. I pushed my fingernails in and scratched three wet lines down the curve onto her thigh.
She hissed in response.
I did the same thing on the other side and then, while Haley was processing my assault, I stuck my tongue in her asshole.
“Ahhh FUCK!” she cried.
She let go of her ass and grabbed the edge of the desk in front of her. I reamed her in a slow circle, savoring the taste of her dark musk and the soft clamp-release clamp-release of her star. The muscles of her ass worked involuntarily, shuddering with pleasure and newness.
Clamp-release clamp-release clamp-release.
I sensed, heard, tasted and felt her all at once. It lasted probably ten seconds before I realized what I needed to add.
“FUUUUCKKKK JESUS OH YOU OHHHH”
My beautiful professor came again, covering the fingers I had just slipped into her pussy with wetness. She thrust herself backwards over and over at my fingers and my tongue and I held onto her, riding the wave of ecstasy.
She moaned when I pulled my tongue out of her. Still rocking against me, she whispered something that I didn’t hear.
“What did you just say?” I asked her, moving so I could see into her eyes. They were on fire now. Wild. It was like looking into a hurricane.
“Do it,” she whispered.
I played innocent. “Do what?” I asked, my fingers maintaining a gentle rhythm against her g-spot.
“Shut up…bastard,” she hissed, fucking back onto me. “You knowwwww…hhhuuuuuh….what…”
I supressed a grin.
“Mm, you mean, go work on my homework for next week?”
“Nooo! Ohhhh.” Another tremor washed over her and she shivered. “Come on baby. Please.”
Holy shit. She was begging. The iron bar of my dick was so hard at this point that I was worried it may never return to normal. My psychology teacher, the hottest girl in the school, hell, the hottest girl in any school, was begging me for anal.
I couldn’t wait any longer. It was physically impossible.
“You want me to fuck you…”
“…in the ass. Yes. Right now.”
“Say it again,” I said.
Haley hissed again, this time with frustration.
“Ugh, you ARE an asshole!”
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and focused. Her voice was sultry and nasty and exactly what I wanted to hear.
“Eric Hall, I want you to fuck me in the ass with that big cock of yours. I want to feel it in me. Do it. I need it. I need to be fucked. Please.”
She was practically mewling at this point.
“You are dirty aren’t you?” I said, but I was really only talking with about ten percent of my brain. All the blood was elsewhere. I really almost didn’t care anymore what she was saying. All I could focus on was the heat radiating from her core, her center, as I brought my cock up and held it in front of my prize.
“Pull yourself open,” I said. “I want to see it.”
She did. Her rosebud opened, stretched, shivered closed and opened again.
A thin stream of saliva slipped down from my lips and slid along the crack of her ass. I pointed my shaft at her and pushed. The head of my cock forced its way through until it was almost inside. The sensation of her contact against me was so intense I had to stop. Haley moaned and pulled harder on her ass cheeks, spreading them wider for me.
I waited, savoring the delicious contact, the heat blossoming from inside her.
“More,” she whispered, her voice husky.
I leaned ever so slightly and the bulbous head disappeared.
“Ohh huuuuhh,” she whimpered, involuntarily clamping down on me. The sensation of her slickened ass gripping my dick like a vice was almost too much. I bit my lip until blood flowed in my mouth. It was still almost too much.
Dear God this was hot.
Clamp-release clamp-release. Clamp…
“More,” she whispered. “At least I think I can…?”
“So…so big…” Haley was breathing heavy now, trying to relax, to accept the violation of her tiny hole. “Okay…go slow…”
I held her hips in each hand and closed my eyes, trying to feel everything at once, trying to memorize her from the inside. I felt myself sinking deeper into her and I realized Haley was doing the moving for both of us.
Her hips rolled in a tiny circle, a mirror of the movement I had seen earlier except this time in miniature.
Flex, roll, twist, release.
Flex, roll, twist, release.
I watched her for what seemed like a million years until I found myself adding another step to her dance. At the end of her circle I pulled out a fraction of an inch and then pushed back inside.
Flex, roll, twist, release, pull, push.
We were like statues, almost. Statues embedded on and in each other. Statues that were torn between permanent, frozen bliss and agonizing, microscopic motion.
Statues slowly coming to life.
Haley whispered something and I didn’t hear the words but the push of her ass was clear enough. She needed it deeper. I responded, sinking another inch into the hot velvet of her most intimate part.
Damnit, I thought. Too fast. I was about to pull back but Haley reached back and grabbed my wrist.
I opened my eyes and saw her gazing up at me. Her expression was equal parts pain and need.
“Alexis…” I said, and a wave of pleasure pressed against my chest. It was the first time I had ever called her by her name.
She bit her lip and her eyes narrowed. It was if she was deciding something. Finally she nodded a fraction of an inch.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Don’t stop.”
“Are you sure…”
“Goddamnit, fuck me alright?”
Her words hit home. I was being too gentle. I pulled out of her an inch and then pushed back in, the pleasure rushing up my spine.
“MMMMMMM huhhhhhh,” Haley cried. I fucked back into her again. And again.
My eyes were clouded with spots as my vision began to blur. I pushed deeper and deeper into her. For some reason my right hand started throbbing with pain and I realized Haley was sinking her nails into the flesh of my palm. Her hips thrust back and all at once I was all the way inside, my cock sheathed completely inside her.
“GODDAMN YOU,” she yelled.
I saw tears spilling down her cheeks.
What the hell? I thought, panicking. Something was wrong. I was tapping into something much deeper than I was prepared for and I knew in that moment I had no idea who Alexis Haley really was. The only thing I knew for certain was that this woman was genuinely hurting and I was the cause of it. I was actually hurting her. Maybe more than just hurting her. I started to pull out.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t cause her pain, no matter how good it was. At least that’s what I told myself, but when I pulled out of her completely, she whimpered. Then she pushed those amazing legs and that fantastic curvature outwards, just slightly, towards my cock.
What the fuck was going on here? She was hurting, she was suffering, it was wrong and yet she wanted to keep going, wanted something. What the hell did she want from me?
Then I knew.
“Stand up,” I told her.
Shivering, she slowly pushed herself up off the desk and turned around so we could look at each other face to face. The intensity in her eyes was as fierce as anything before, but now there was a new note. Fear. She was scared of me. I took a deep breath and told myself I knew what I was doing. At least I hoped I did.
“Lay down,” I said. “On the ground.”
Haley nodded and as I moved the chair she started to lay on the thick afghan rug facedown.
“Not that way,” I said, touching her gently. “Turn over.”
She did as I requested, her eyes searching mine silently. She seemed smaller somehow now. Fragile. It was fascinating but I think with the heels that she always wore combined with her ferocious intelligence, Alexis Haley had always seemed larger than life. But in reality she was probably only about 5’2. I had never seen her like this and a new wave of feeling swept over me. Protectiveness.
I lay down on her and she slipped her arms around my sweat-soaked back, holding me tight to her. I kissed her neck and we remained quiet, absorbing each other. My professor was the first to break the silence.
“I want you to come,” she said, her voice soft in my ear.
The jolt that went through my body at her words nearly brought her wish instantly. I laughed gently and pushed myself up to look at her.
“Woman, I’ve been about two seconds from coming for about an hour now. I almost came when you said that.”
She laughed and when her chest shook I become aware, once again, of my cock, trapped between the heat of us.
“Good,” she said. “Then if I did this…”
She reached down and grasped my cock gently in one hand, the small fingers playing over the rock hardness she found.
“And then this…” She lifted her hips, slid backwards and I felt my pubic bone pressing against her sex, while at the same time the tip of my cock was swallowed by intense wet pressure.
I shuddered and felt my arms begin to give way. I leaned forward onto her and she thrust up against me, burying me in her ass.
“You…huhhh ohhhh jesus….”
I was flush against her, our lips inches away from each other. She held my cheeks in each hand and the softest smile crept onto her face. Her hips fucked up against me and I shuddered again.
“Eric…you…uhhh….hurt me….sooouhh…so good…”
I found her rhythm, gentle this time, her ass tight but insistent against my heat. I followed her, watching her face, her eyes, as they closed each time I penetrated deeper. Her mouth opened in slow, quiet breaths. My brain was lost. I couldn’t focus on anything. The pressure inside me was an exquisite fountain. Expanding. Expanding…
“I…” I whispered, incoherent. “I can’t…”
I felt her legs wrap around me and pull me flush to her.
“Please,” she whispered, hoarse, begging. “Me too.. can’t…uhhmm…wait…”
The world turned to colors.
It was not one of my better days in Sri Lanka. My wife was in England “re-thinking” our marriage following her discovery that I had been exchanging explicit emails and photos with a young masseur we had shared during a short stay at a local beach resort. While she did not mind sharing men with me, she took a very dim view of my having solitary adventures. No matter how much I protested her love to her, she persisted, for some unknown reason, in regarding the men I slept with as a threat to her own position. She never seemed to understand that I wanted them only to satisfy certain physical desires. I had no intention of making any of them a partner. Indeed, I had no interest in any aspect of them except their bodies. To me, they were nothing more than pieces of lovely brown meat that should be honoured to serve and service my large white cock.
As if my wife’s absence was not bad enough, I had also just dismissed my housemaid and cook after the disappearance of some money from my desk. I had no idea which one of them had taken it so the fairest thing to do was to get rid of them both. The stupid women had, of course, reacted very badly, yelling and crying, first claiming I had made a mistake, then begging me to keep their jobs, then cursing me when they saw I was not to be moved by their appeals. They had both been quite hysterical and were still screaming obscenities at me when I ejected them forcefully through the front gate.
Their absence from the house meant that I had to venture to the local market and by my own food for the very first time. Usually, this was the task of my servants or occasionally my wife. I considered such tasks beneath my dignity. To me, the market was a smelly, overcrowded place and I hated having to push through the crowds of sweaty poor people and haggle with the traders. I had a particularly nasty encounter with an elderly man that morning, a tall, bony individual with an arrogance that was quite unsuited to his station. The argument ended with me overturning some of the items on his stall and loudly calling him a cheat and a thief. He called a policeman but I smoothed things over in the usual manner and left him fuming as he cursed me in terms rather similar to those used by my dismissed servants.
Once home, I took out my foul mood on my gardening staff. I should explain that I was renting a large house with an equally large garden at that time. It was situated on the edge of the village with no overlooking buildings and high walls around it to ensure absolute privacy. My wife had insisted on it as she liked to sunbathe nude by the pool. Of course, she did not mind the servants seeing her. They did not really count as people.
Anyway, the garden consisted of a large lawn with a number of flower beds and several trees. Gardening was my wife’s passion and I usually paid it little attention apart from sitting in it. She had told me the names of our gardeners when we first hired them but I had no need to remember them as she was the one who issued their orders. On that particular day, only one was on duty, watering the lawn with a hose in a manner which was, quite frankly, lacklustre. He was around thirty, tall and muscular with a broad chest, his hands and limbs grown strong from years of manual labour. He was definitely not my type though. I liked smooth-skinned young men from the cities and the coast, not rough-hewn labourers with missing teeth. The other man in the garden, a local man brought in to trim the coconut palms (he was clambering up one at that very moment) was even less the kind of man who filled my fantasies. Dark and wiry, he was almost 40 and there was nothing attractive about his almost naked body except his well-defined muscles. That had never been enough for a man of my refined tastes.
As I have said, I was already in a foul mood. The sight of my gardener only half-heartedly attending to his duties only served to anger me further. Planting myself in front of him I began to berate him in English (I had no idea how much of the language he knew), wagging my finger at him and threatening him with the same fate as my other servants. He just looked at me in a most curious manner which I took to be stupidity. I stepped closer and he lifted his hose in surprise, wetting my T-shirt in the process. I swore at him but he seemed to have difficulty understanding me. By the time he removed the hose, my T-shirt was completely soaked through.
Angrily, I pulled off my shirt and threw it onto the ground. I was fuming but the gardener did not seem at all repentant. Quite the opposite in fact; he was smiling. Smiling and looking at my naked torso with what could only be described as unadulterated lust. I should know. I had worn that exact same expression when the masseur had first stripped naked for me. The thought that this uneducated peasant was interested in my body was both flattering and distasteful. I had no wish to lower myself to consorting with the likes of him. My response was, therefore, to step even closer to the impertinent lout and shout louder at him. He simply laughed and turned the hose on my crotch. In a matter of moments, my shorts were as wet as my shirt had been.
Still shouting, I backed away from the force of the water. The gardener followed me every step of the way, never lifting the water jet from my shorts. I turned my back on him to spare my cock and balls from the stinging effect of his attack. That only gave him the opportunity to hose down my arse cheeks. My shorts were completely soaked now and they were clinging to me in a most uncomfortable manner which, combined with the force of the water was almost painful. Since the gardener gave no indication of wanting to end his assault, there was only one way in which I could relieve myself. Bending over and presenting my arse towards the gardener, I pulled off my shorts.
The moment I was naked and vulnerable, the gardener cast his hose aside. Turning back to face him, I saw him running his eyes up and down my lily white body and grinning lasciviously. His gaze rested on my shrivelled cock and he first laughed the closed his fist and started moving it up and down rapidly. It was obvious what he wanted me to do. Indignant, I refused, shaking my head and telling him so in blunt language. Instantly, his expression changed to one of pure aggression and he made a threatening position with his balled fist. For a moment, I considered fighting him but it was a ridiculous notion, He was much stronger than me. Indeed, apart from his teeth, he was much superior physically. My whole dominion over him had been based on my wealth and social standing. Now, standing there naked before him, all those advantages were gone. He was the man in charge. In many ways, he was the man.
I began to slowly stroke my cock, doing my best to make it as hard as I could under the circumstances. The gardener’s eyes were firmly fixed on it now and his hand was under his sarong. Obviously he was playing with his own cock. As I have already mentioned, I have always been proud of my own rather large appendage and I now decided that I would make my cock grow as large as possible in order to both impress my unwanted lover and to re-establish my superiority and therefore my dominance over him. After all, I had yet to see any Sri Lankan cock which could match mine for length and girth. It did not occur to me until later that when I was stroking my cock so hard, I was doing it for the approval of the gardener. I wanted him to acknowledge its superior size, yes, but above all I wanted him to see me in all my glory.
When I was dangerously close to cumming, I looked questioningly at the gardener. Clearly, he had other plans for my cum because he signalled me to lift my hand from cock. A moment later, he untied his sarong and let it drop to the ground. I had been slightly taken aback by his lack of surprise at the size of my cock and now I understood why. His cock was just as impressive. Shorter it may have been but it was a good bit thicker than mine. It was the largest cock I had ever seen on any Sri Lankan. All my hopes of re-establishing my dominance vanished. I knew now that I was the weaker man.
Still, at least fucking the gardener would not be altogether unpleasant. He may have been ugly but his muscles were beautifully sculpted and from what I could see of his buttocks, his arse was rock hard. Smiling weakly, I pointed to my cock and gestured to him to step forward and suck it. To my complete and utter surprised, he scowled at me and shook his head then pointed to his own cock. It had never occurred to me he would want me to suck him. I had never sucked a local man. They sucked me and then I fucked them. That was how it worked. I was a man, not a woman. I gave, they received and no-one was left in any doubt as to who the dominant partner was. The thought of first sucking and then being fucked by brown cock, especially the brown cock of an ignorant servant was repugnant to me, at least mentally. My cock, on the other hand seemed excited by the prospect. As I pictured the gardener’s thick cock entering my white arse, it gave a little jerk. I blushed bright red and the gardener laughed. He pointed to the ground then gestured towards his cock and snapped his fingers.
I decided it was best not to keep him waiting any longer. Falling to my knees, I crawled submissively to his feet and knelt beneath his erect cock. The gardener snapped his fingers again and I leaped into action. Taking his cock in both hands I kissed and licked its tip then ran my tongue over every inch of its shaft, worshipping it so diligently that it fairly glistened with moist saliva. That, done, I turned my attention to his balls, kissing and licking them too before sucking them in my mouth. I even gave his arse a little lick even though its smell was less than appealing. Lifting my head again, I then began to suck on his cock, taking it further inside my mouth and throat with every bob of my head. It was not a very easy task. As I have already said, the cock was very thick and it was a tight fit in my mouth. I even choked a couple of times which made the gardener laugh. I began to worry about taking the cock in my arse but that only spurred me to work harder. The wetter I could make it, I reasoned, the less painful my fucking would be.
I had just taken the whole shaft in my mouth and was starting to suck faster when I felt the gardener’s broad hands on my head. It seemed he did not want me to speed up, just to suck at a steady, gentle pace. Obviously, he was saving all his cum to christen my arse. I had no objection and allowed him to guide me in whatever way he desired. As he did so, my hands set to work fondling his balls and stroking his arse cheeks. I found them incredibly strong and firm. It was the sort of arse that radiated strength and made my own buttocks, which I had previously considered firm, seem decidedly flabby.
Without a word, the gardener lifted his hands from my head, placed one on my neck, and spun me round. It was time for my fucking. Resting on my hands and knees, I lifted my arse and presented it to him. I felt his rough hands pry my cheeks apart and then he spat three times directly onto my arsehole and rubbed his saliva into it. That and the saliva I had expended on his cock were the only lubricant I was to receive. A moment later, I felt the tip of the gardener’s cock press against my entrance and then it was inside me. A few gentle pushes later, I had accepted half the shaft. A few harder strokes after that and I had swallowed the monster whole. It was not the first cock I had taken, although it was the first brown one, but it was the thickest. I was grateful the gardener had been so gentle with me. Even so, it was painful and I am afraid I cried out. The gardener responded by slapping my arse hard and muttering some words which I did not recognise but whose meaning was clear. I did not protest again.
The gardener began to fuck me faster but he soon slowed again. I wondered why until I realised he was angry with my performance.
“You are woman now.” he said, leaning over me and using the first English words I had heard him speak. “You fuck me like woman or you make me angry!”
I apologised and began to act more as he wished me to. For some reason, I had started to forget how unwilling I was to be his sex toy and was more interested in making sure I satisfied him. He had threatened me, of course, but the way I responded to his touch and his instructions was less because I was afraid of him and more because of a much more powerful emotion.
Lifting my arse up higher, I began to rub it against his balls and thighs. Then, once he started fucking me again, I made sure that every single one of his strokes was matched by a reciprocal movement of my arse, ensuring that his cock was always as deep inside me as possible. The faster he went, however, the more difficult it became to keep up with him. I did what I considered to be a pretty good job of pleasing him, nonetheless. He certainly came fast enough when he finally pulled his cock out of me, threw me onto my back and shot jet after jet of cum into my mouth and onto my face. He had fucked me on all fours as if I was an animal and now he was marking me as an animal would mark its property.
“Eat!” he snarled, then looked down at me and laughed heartily as I scooped his cum from my face and greedily licked it from my fingers.
“Up!” he ordered and I rose to my knees.
He patted my head as if I was a dog.
“You are very bad man but very good fuck. Your cunt just like a woman’s.”
“Thank you!” I smiled, strangely proud, despite myself, to have won such praise from him. “You were very good also, very strong. You are a real man, not like me.”
He grinned. Apparently he too liked to be praised . “May I know your name?” I asked “I am ashamed to say I have forgotten it. Please forgive me.”
His face darkened and for a moment I thought he might strike me but it seemed he was only thinking.
“My name” he said eventually “is Sir.”
He pointed to his feet and I bent down and kissed them as a mark of respect and submission. When I looked up again, he was grinning from ear to ear. Only a short time I would have been furious to be humiliated in such a way by a mere servant. Now, I simply ejaculated.
Sir jumped back as the cum blasted his leg and sandals but he did not get angry. I suppose he saw it as a tribute to his superior manhood. Perhaps it was. I had lost all understanding of what was happening to my emotions and my body.
“Eat!” he commanded and I licked every trace of my cum from his strong brown body.
“Good.” he said “Now you fuck again. Fuck good like before.”
“Are you ready again so quickly?” I said in surprise as his cock was still flaccid “You really are a great man!”
Sir laughed, pleased by my compliment.
“Not me. My friend. He want white man too much.”
He pointed to where the other worker was now sitting naked under a coconut tree, stroking his cock and smiling. He looked hideous.
“Please, no!” I said, looking imploringly at Sir “You are a great man, a strong man but he is an ugly man, dark and ugly not beautiful and brown like you. I don’t want to fuck him!”
Sir’s face grew angry.
“Listen good!” he said threateningly, lowering his head and pressing his face against mine “You not boss man now. You just meat, white meat for Sri Lankan men. I am boss man. I say, you do or you sorry. You understand?”
“Yes sir.” I said, trembling fearfully. “I am sorry sir.”
“Come!” barked Sir, standing up and starting to walk towards his friend.
I stood up and he halted in his tracks.
“No! You not walk on two legs. You not man now, you animal. You walk like animal now. You walk on four legs.”
So it was that I crawled rather than walked to the feet of the man who would fuck me next. I crawled like a dog and like a dog my hardening cock swung between my legs as I did so.
I had expected the tree man to simply give me a quick fuck but he proved rather more creative than that, much to my discomfort. He did not even allow me to suck on his long but thin cock. Instead, I was made to stand at the foot of the coconut tree while he clambered back up it.
“Look!” said Sir, pointing upwards and I looked up to see the tree man’s black arse directly above me, He was straddling the tree in such a way that his arsehole was plainly visible. Sir smiled and said something and then the tree man started to move again only this time he began to descend.
Instinctively I stepped back but Sir pushed me against the tree again. “Master coming home.” he said “Welcome Master with kiss like good wife.” Looking back up at the gaping black arsehole, it was clear what he meant. I held up my trembling arms and the tree man lowered his arse right into them. He was thinner than Sir but his muscles were just as solid. He slid down lower still. My hands rested on his thighs. I craned my neck upwards and kissed both buttocks then licked round the rim of his hole. The tree man gave a little whoop of delight and lowered himself onto my tongue. He smelled and tasted disgusting but I was too afraid of the consequences to try and run away now. So, abandoning whatever pride I had left, I started to lick him out as hard as I could.
“Good!” smiled Sir and then walked away, leaving us alone.
The tree man was still holding onto the tree with remarkable upper body strength but gradually he was lowering himself down. Every time he did so, I had to bend lower down in order to keep pleasuring his dirty opening. Finally, his feet reached the ground and he stood with his feet on either side of the tree, his arse pressing into my face while I sat on my own arse, my legs splayed on either side of his. Now I had to begin my work in earnest. Prying his arse cheeks apart, I buried my tongue inside him and licked away furiously. He reached back and took one of my soft hands in his and placed it on his wiry cock and without receiving a single command, I began to wank it. This went on until my new “husband’s cock was as hard as his other muscles.
Standing, he grinned lustfully down at me and then walked around behind me. He snapped something at me in Sinhalese. Although I could not understand his words, they could have only one meaning. Clambering quickly onto all fours, I spread my legs and offered him my arse. He was on me in an instant. His cock was thinner and shorter than Sir’s but he used no lubrication and he had none of the latter’s concern or gentility. He fucked me hard and he fucked me fast, pounding me with such ruthless energy that I was almost knocked off my limbs. Already tired from my previous fucking on all fours, I found that I had to grab hold of the tree for support. This only seemed to excite my fucker even more. He had a great deal of stamina but eventually he too tired. Pulling his cock from my pain filled arse, he did the same as Sir had, spraying my face with his cum and making me eat it. He found it hilarious that I came myself as soon as I tasted his load and made me lick up the drops which had landed on his body.
Sir had returned by now. He called his friend to him and they sat side by side eating some local snack, chatting and laughing and occasionally pointing at me to the accompaniment of even more laughter. They did not think to offer me any food, not that I would have taken it of course. They just left me to lie, exhausted on the ground like a discarded piece of meat while they went on with their daily lives. To be honest, I was too tired to care. I had also given up trying to analyse my appalling reactions to that morning’s traumatic events. I just wanted to be left alone to sleep and recover.
I should have known it was a forlorn hope.
“Up!” said Sir, kicking me lightly in the ribs just as I closed my eyes.
“Please!” I groaned “I’ll give you money, anything. Please just leave me alone.”
It is mid-morning. The gym is normally empty at this time of day, so Vanessa has decided to go for a work out. After a hard session of running and cycling, she decides to do some work on the weights machines. Her legs aching from such intense exercise, she sashays her fine ass over to the weights room and opens the door.
Vanessa scans the room and sees her favourite machine is just being vacated by some muscle-bound brute. She looks at the weights and is astonished to see how much this guy was lifting. She adjusts the machine and sits down. The seat is still warm and moist from its previous occupant.
The big guy, who is now sitting over to her right, catches her eye. He is tall and muscular, with skin as black as coal. As he works his huge arms and strong back on the machine, Vanessa notices how muscular his calves are and works her gaze up past his thick, ripped thighs. Her eyes are drawn to a particular spot. Are his pants rucked up, or can he really be that well endowed?
Vanessa becomes aware that she has been caught staring and, embarrassed, looks away. Smiling, the guy stands up and walks towards the door. He walks unnecessarily close by Vanessa and announces “Time for me to hit the shower,” to no one in particular as he passes by.
Vanessa can’t help staring at his broad frame as he saunters out. Even standing up, she can tell through his baggy pants that he’s massively well hung. After a minute, she gets up and follows him out of the door.
Across the room, Vanessa sees him disappearing into the men’s locker room. Glancing around, she sees that there is nobody about. Knowing that she shouldn’t, she hurries after him, pushes the door and sneaks into the locker room.
Rounding the corner, she sees him. He’s already removed his top to reveal his supremely chiselled torso and he’s looking straight at Vanessa.
“Yeah, I saw you checking me out, girl. You see something you want?”
Intoxicated with lust, Vanessa walks straight up to this stranger and puts her slim hands on his firm chest. “Umm, maybe!” she says as her hand slides its way down over the ripples of his abdomen and into the loose waistband of his pants. She feels her way down until she reaches the base of his flaccid cock.
She gasps at how thick it is and almost moves her had away as the stranger grabs her by the waist. “And what do you think you’re gonna do with that?”
Vanessa slowly feels her way down his cock. Down and down and down…. Finally she reaches the tip and holds it in her hand. “Oooh…. I don’t know…. What do you want?” She strokes it along its length as it grows and stiffens.
The guy pushes his pants down a little and Vanessa flops his massive dick out over the top of them. Biting her lip and looking up at him, she drops to her knees and sucks on the tip of his cock. As it grows in her mouth, she rubs both her hands over it. It must be at least 11 inches long, thick, veiny and now, rock hard.
Vanessa works the stranger’s massive dick with her mouth and hands. “That’s right. You like that? Why don’t you stand up and turn that ass around?”
Vanessa gets up and turns round. She slips her pants down over her sexy round ass and they slide down to her ankles. The guy walks over and she bends over, bracing her hands against the wall. He fondles her ass cheek in his big, rough hand and works a finger towards her pussy. He strokes it to find it’s already dripping wet.
He puts his finger inside her and it pushes it in to the knuckle. Pulling his lubricated finger out, he pushes it against her asshole, at the same time rubbing his dick against her pussy.
Reaching around behind her, Vanessa pulls her ass cheek to the side to open herself up. His monstrous cock slides into her pussy at the same time as his thick finger penetrates her ass. Vanessa gasps with pleasure. Never before has she felt something so large inside her. The stranger fucks her hard and she quickly arrives at a crashing orgasm. Her screams echoing around the otherwise empty locker room.
“Mmmmm, yeah. You really want this, don’t you?”
“Oh YES! Give it to me. I want it!”
“Let’s see how much you want it….”
He pops his finger out of her ass and withdraws his huge dick from her dripping wet pussy. He positions the tip of his glistening wet, veiny dick at the entrance of her asshole.
“Oh, yes. I love it in my ass, but you’re too big. Just go slow, okay?”
He pushes the tip of his dick into Vanessa’s ass, which clings tightly around him. He withdraws from, then re-enters her ass several times, easing her open. As her ass opens and relaxes, he moves further and further in with each stroke. Soon he begins fucking her ass deeply with long, deliberate thrusts.
Vanessa feels from his urgency that he is getting close. He pushes himself into Vanessa’s ass further than she thought imaginable, then quickly withdraws.
“Lie down there,” he says as he manhandles her towards a bench. Vanessa lies down as he flings her legs up and puts himself back into her ass. He fucks her strongly as Vanessa ogles and fondles his powerful body as it looms over her. She comes again as he continues to pound away at her ass.
Panting, he pulls out and moves round. He puts his dick into her mouth and fucks it as he spills his thick, copious load into her. Vanessa obligingly swallows it down.
Just as he is about to speak, they hear the door to the locker room creak open….