Standing in the cascade, a small Wave of anxiety washed over me. My oculus shot open as I finally realized what it was I was showering for in the first place. This meeting, rendezvous, get-together, date, whatever you want to call it, was only a half hr away. I slowly washed my white meat and stomach with my luffa, trying to convince myself that the longer it took for me to get prepare, the more time would decelerate down, and the Thomas More clock time I had until he arrived on my doorstep.

Usually, men don't make me nervous. As a 26-year-old, I felt I knew what to expect from them, and I had a ego esteem that tended to air on the face of hauteur when it came to escort that always kept me in mastery. I knew that I had a ability over men, and I knew I could make them need me considerably more than I could ever want them without hardly any effort. I knew I could predominate them. But this man was the exception the rule. In my own way, I had worked at this. It felt like a illusion of mine was finally coming true, and my emotions could hardly constitute sense of it. He had been something in my lifespan I wasn't sure I would ever be able to have, and it made me require him all the more. Now that it looked as if I had finally sunk my teeth into him, I was sealed I did not need to mess it up.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off and looked at the kit that was folded up on my toilet can : blue and white pinstripe cotton frill-top drawers that stopped just before the ankle and a white-hot spaghetti strap top that I would wear without a bra, as to stimulate my nipple piercing easily seeable. Even if I was oddly nervous to see him, at least I knew I would look amazing.

walking toward my bedroom, the collocation of its coldness and the damp heat of the bathroom sent a tingle down my spine. Examining the space, I determined that it looked acceptable enough to call for somebody into for the night. My bed was uncharacteristically made, floor freshly vacuumed, and my desk was cleared of the heaps of useless papers, tampons, Koran, and half empty glasses of water that it typically hosted. I tossed my towel in my hamper near my desk and closed the threshold to get a honest look at myself in the mirror. The hatful of my own mirror image sent another iciness down my spine, but it wasn't one of anxiety or nerves, thankfully. It was of confidence. I couldn't remember ever having liked the way I looked so a good deal before. My pelt was truly beaming from psyche to toe. The box tress on my head cascaded down and framed my face perfectly, but didn't take away from my front-runner facial feature : my gamy cheekbones. Turning my principal to the left, I peered at the strap on harness I had purchased specifically for the guest I had coming over. I looked back at myself in the mirror and watched as a circuitous smirk spread across my face.There couldn't have been a better night to sleep with my old college professor.

Just as I'd dressed, turned on some mood music, and finished pouring one of the two Methedrine of Pinot grape noir there was a knock on my door. He'd arrived. I took my clip going over to let him in, as I wanted to do sure enough I left every trace of nervus behind me. I'd waited so long for the opportunity to do this On my way to greet him, I took an oversized sip of the vino I had in hand a deep breath, and slowly opened the doorway.

He had been my professor in my third-year year British lit path. I was a linguistics major, and I wanted to take as many course of action related to words and language as I could, even if it meant choosing them as elective course. When the time came to register, I was sealed I wanted to take the line with the Lapplander charwoman who had taught my Semantics and Phonetics class the year prior, prof Wesley. She was a noteworthy woman whose influence over me was both pro and motherly, and I told her many times that if I ever finished the volume I'd been working on, I wanted her to drop a line its foreword. My respect for her was unmatched, and I wanted to absorb every bit of information from her as I could. Thus, I was nearly in a rage when I learned I would be taking the class not with her but with a prof Stanley, some guy who'd transferred from a college upstate. I tried with all my might to transfer my class schedule and body of work schedule to make it potential for me to be taught by my one and only true character simulation, but to no service. My whole summer leading up to that drop semester was spent in defeat, wondering why my perfect programme had crumbled before me, that is, until I finally met my new instructor.

-- -- -

He stood in front of me, smiling that sexy smile of his, and I felt a massive hurry of adrenaline. I wanted him right then, I could feel my body responding to his mere mien, but I kept my cool. I needed him to need me Sir Thomas More. professor Francis Edgar Stanley, or Levi, as I took to calling him, was gorgeous. He nearly towered over me, standing at a wax 6'1"while I was 5'4 ”. He was muscular, had a full head of saltiness and Piper nigrum whisker and wore midst rimmed Methedrine. Honestly, he could've been a GQ model if he was 20 long time younger.

"trade good evening, gorgeous ”, he said in a low spokesperson, still wearing that smile. His leafy vegetable center twinkled.

"Hey, Mister ”, I replied, trying not to reckon too severely about how hot I'd become in the go ten moment. Hesitantly, he leaned in for a hug, his left hand resting firmly but gently on my bare pelt. The perfume on St. Matthew the Apostle's mordant release up was intoxicating, and his inviolable, warm up thorax pushed up against my boldness sent my head reeling. He was a stereotypically manly man, and it made me want to take him for my own even more. The embrace eventually came to an end, and I moved to the side to let him in.

"Hey, so I hope you don't idea, but I brought a niggling collation for us. I've been obsessed with this Annamite spot a couple miles away from the university, so I thought I'd make for some spring rolls. I also picked up some sake. You okay with that ?"

I smiled, nodded. and decided to do a move. I wasn't sure if he would, plus, I was unbelievably horny. I walked over to him and kissed him deeply. Pulling away, I looked into his oculus, and in an instant, his lips were on mine again. I felt his big hands on my hips. We were doing this now.

heaving and pushing our soundbox into one another, we stumbled into my sleeping accommodation and slammed the threshold shut. Matthew grabbed my fount like he owned me, and I wrapped my limb around his neck. My body was riddled with ecstasy and I noticed I was trembling as his hands slid down my face, back, and pelvis, picking me up by the binding of my thighs, giving my ass a firm squeeze play and smacking on the way down. I whimpered as he began sucking on my knocker and neck opening, and I chuckled to myself, thinking about what I would end up saying to avoid explaining to Friend and coworkers that my early college prof had given me a love bite.

"God, every bit of you tastes so fucking good ”, Levi sighed. His expression looked completely different than it did when he first walked into my apartment hallway fifteen minutes ago. He looked completely different now, his field glass removed, pocket-sized beads of perspiration on his brow and chest, the dilation of his educatee. He looked completely carnal, like just being in the same way with me was all it really took to get him off. I realized that, in this moment, he felt like he needed me. This Book of Revelation sent adrenaline charging through every individual inch of my organic structure. I was wax of major power, metier and control.

"Put me down,"I whispered.

"What ?"Matthew's face dropped, his features reading confused.

"Put me down, now."This time, my vocalisation mimicked the world power I felt inside. His hands reluctantly loosened its grip on my thighs, and after a second my toes met the carpet. The atmosphere suddenly shifted. Saint Matthew the Apostle's face was now confuse, queasy and daunt. It turned me on. I let the silence body-build for a few More irregular ; I quite liked the uncomfortable looking on Matthew's pretty small face. When I was fix, I turned him around, pushing his typeface against the room access with my hand and forced myself up against his back.

"Okay, you had it your way. You had your fun, Matthew Stanley."Quickly, I reached into his briefs and tightly grabbed his tool, making him gasp. His erection began to melt when I took charge, but after a couple seconds, His boner was back. I stroked it slowly before whispering,"But now it's my round. This is my home plate, and you'll do what I say."He moaned deeply, passionately, and I could feel him trembling. Stepping back once, I moved my hand from the English of his face to his chin, forcing his head back. I kissed his back and articulatio humeri tenderly, softly tracing his spine with my finger, and punctuated it quickly with a smack of his ass. It felt softer and bigger than I had anticipated.

"This ass is mine, you got that ?"

"Mmm, yes ma'am. It's all yours ”, Matthew sighed. I was surprised to find out his voice had soften as much as it had, and I looked down to see pre-cum escaping his erecting. He knew what I was set up to do to him, and he wanted it. I fucking loved it. Squeezing his ass again, I walked over to the bed and told him to espouse me. We were closing to the light, and I could see his saying better than I could previously. He had completely submitted to me, and all it took was a couple sentence. The longer this went on, and the more he readily responded to my bureau, the Thomas More aware I was of the moisture in my pantie.

"Take those off,"I demanded, pointing to the only clause of clothing he still had on : his pre-cum stained blue boxer briefs. Grabbing the waistband and avoiding eye touch with me, he began to slip his underwear off his pelvic arch, until I stopped him.

"No. Turn your spine to me. I want see your picayune ass when you bent over. It's mine, isn't it ?"

"Yes… yes ma'am, it is,"he replied. He turned around removed his underclothing, and again, I was shocked at how big his ass was once there was zilch left to get across it up. His ass wasn't hairy, and neither was his trap. I could see he'd also bleached it. He was set up. After a mo, he turned around and looked at me. His cock looked even harder. I smirked.

"Now, be a unspoilt boy and come lie on the bed with me."

Matthew was excited, despite his demeanor. He crawled onto the bed and did More than I was expecting : he got down on all tetrad and arched his back, spreading his legs out to unwrap his cockeyed asshole. Oh, fuck, I thought. This is so hot. I'd never been with a man like him before. So many men are afraid of their back door, and so despite my desire to spiel with a man's ass, I'd never met one who wanted to not only commit it a try, but who was positively obsessed with it. Matthew wanted me to do anything I wanted to that ass of his, and I knew it. It'd been awhile since he'd slept with a womanhood who wanted to do this with him, and his craving for a shoulder strap on in his dickhead was so hot that I wanted to work him distinguish me exactly how he wanted this to go.

"Little Matty,"I began to ask as I moved around on the bed and began to push my wet pussy against his ass. It felt so good and soft."I know you want me to fuck your little pickle. I can order how badly you want to bounce up and down on that didlo I bought just for you. But before you do, I need you to distinguish me in majuscule particular exactly what you want."Again, I leaned forward and pulled his head back toward me by his hair.

"Yes ma'am, I will."He paused, cleared his pharynx, and spoke.

"I want you eat my ass. I've gotten off on the opinion of your tongue around my hole while I use my pelvis to cranch your face.I want you to scatter my ass cheeks out so I can rub it against your natural language and lips. I love it when you squeeze and grab and slap my ass, it makes me feel owned. Like my body isn't mine, but yours. I would do it for you to lick my taint and play with my turncock with one hand. I want to you fuck my ass so deeply and hard, grabbing my hips and making my ass bounce against your aphrodisiac body. I do, I do desire to bounce on your dildo. I want it so badly. I want you to do whatever you want to my ass. It's yours."

God, that was so fucking hot. I had to use everything in me to resist my temptation to moan right then. I didn't wan na let him in on how much he'd turned me on quite yet. He could not have had a more perfect ass either : smooth peel, a little muscular but still soft enough that it jiggled when I slapped it, perfectly round. I just wanted to feel it against my clit for a piece. I slid my hand slowly down his arched back and slapped his cheeks with both hands, then grabbed a handful of each, causing Gospel According to Matthew to jump, then moan. He arched his back even more, showing me his tight gob once again. I could not waitress to have that pressed up against my glossa. But I wanted to make him wait.

My hands migrated from his soft ass to his hip joint, pulling him in finisher. Pointing my groin a little more upwards, I began moving my hip joint against his ass in a broadside movement. I loved watching as his ass squished against my physical structure. Steadily, I built a lilliputian speed, and his pelvis started twisting as well, rubbing his right impertinence right up against my clit. It felt so good I couldn't help but let out a moan, and he followed suit. My tit were now hard and I noticed I was biting my lip. He was had me so fucking wet. Matthew's upheaval was building too, as he pushed his ass into me harder and harder. Suddenly, he stopped the aphrodisiac swirling of his rosehip and took to bouncing his ass back on my clit. I remained still, watching as his ass moved forward and backward, jiggling every time, making a slapping sound as his skin made contact with mine.

I had to have him, and I had to induce him now. I slid back on the bed to lie on my stomach, reaching out to snaffle his coxa and perpetrate his ass down to meet me face. Pushing his ass nerve apart, I buried my face into him, the mouldy smell sending a shockwave from my nipples to my swollen clit. I made throwaway movement with my clapper on his mean minuscule asshole and felt his body tense from the volume of the sensation. Matthew released the tenacious, most desperate moan I'd heard in all my years, and it sent me reeling. After lubricating his hole with my expectoration, I slapped his ass and went to townspeople. I couldn't fucking believe this was, how sexy it was to receive my aspect between this man's cheeks, and how much he fucking loved it. I bit his left cheek, then his rightfield, then I tongue fucked him, with him moaning and sighing and panting all the while.

"Oh fuck yeah, eat that ass,"he said in a breathy voice, his head turned back to me and his justly manus holding my head right where he liked it. Now he was bouncing his ass up and down, rubbing his wet hole on my eager natural language. I felt I could do this for minute. We continued for a while, me slapping and grabbing his ass, spitting on his maw, flicking my tongue this way and that way, sliding my glossa down periodically to lick his contamination and suction on his balls ; him humping my face, moaning and swearing with delight, tugging on his cock. After a moment, I sucked on my finger and slide it into his hole, and was surprised to palpate him push himself into my hand. The moaning got louder as I moved now to using two fingerbreadth and he twisted and gyrated his hips. I soon noticed I was moaning too, and I was so wet I could finger my own wet running down my thighs.

"God, I want to fuck you so bad,"I said, my fingers still inside his bunghole."I want that ass so bad."

"Yes, please be intimate me. Fuck my like you mean it,"he replied.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed the strap on and, fumbling all the while, I slipped it around my coxa, adjusting it just so. The lube came future ; once we started, I didn't want there to be any reason for us to stop. Matthew looked at me longingly. I could see the anticipation in his optic. He was so ready for me. Positioning myself just so behind him, I slowly pushed the strap on into him, being careful not to go too fast. He let out a suspiration of gratification, so I sped up a touching. My script were positioned on his pelvis, and the longer we went the more he arched his rachis, his ass bouncing against me again. I kept slapping it until it was red.

"You like that ?"I asked him while trying to catch my breath.

"screw yes, fuck me heavy sister. Ooh, yeah, roll in the hay my ass."His moan were growing louder, and much more than effeminate. He was so bonk hot. I couldn't postponement to make him cum. I fucked him surd, really strong. He tugged on his cock, and I noticed a short pocket billiards of precum underneath him. Leaning forward and making his book binding archway even more, I pulled his hair, causing his heading to decrease backwards. I could hear his groan better this way.

"Oh God, I'm gon na cum. FUCK yeah, I'm gon na cum !"Matthew gasped, panted, and pushed his bouncing ass into me even harder. A whimper was released, and I knew that he had cum all over my comforter. I pulled the strap on out of him, and leaned back to catch my breath. We both giggled.



Later that Night, after we had eaten the Vietnamese food, smoked mourning band and drink in the sake, he fucked me and went plate. I showered and opened my windows to rid it of the smell of sex when I heard my phone chime. He'd texted me. I opened the message to a picture of him, bent over with a finger's breadth in his little fix. I had no idea how he'd gotten that picture.

"No one has ever made me cum that heavily before. Let's do it again side by side week ?"read his message.

"Hell yes ; )"I replied, and went to catch some Z's .