Standing in the shower, a small wave of anxiety washed over me. My center shot unresolved as I finally realized what it was I was showering for in the first station. This meeting, rendezvous, get-together, date, whatever you want to address it, was only a half hour away. I slowly washed my white meat and tummy with my loofa, trying to convince myself that the longer it took for me to get ready, the more clock time would slow down, and the more 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 self regard that tended to air on the side of meat of arrogance when it came to dates that always keep on me in control condition. I knew that I had a power 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 overtop them. But this man was the exclusion the prescript. In my own way, I had worked at this. It felt like a phantasy of mine was finally coming honest, and my emotions could hardly take sensory faculty of it. He had been something in my life I wasn't sure I would ever be able-bodied to have, and it made me want him all the more. Now that it looked as if I had finally sunk my teeth into him, I was sure I did not want to mess it up.

I stepped out of the rain shower, dried myself off and looked at the outfit that was folded up on my toilet buttocks : blue and tweed pinstripe cotton fiber frill-top pants that stopped just before the ankle and a tweed spaghetti strap top that I would wear without a bra, as to get my nipple piercing easily visible. Even if I was oddly skittish to see him, at least I knew I would look amazing.

Walking toward my bedroom, the juxtaposition of its coldness and the moistness oestrus of the bathroom sent a chill down my spine. Examining the place, I determined that it looked satisfactory enough to invite soul into for the night. My bed was uncharacteristically made, floor freshly vacuumed, and my desk was cleared of the wads of useless document, tampons, books, and one-half empty Methedrine of piddle that it typically hosted. I tossed my towel in my hamper near my desk and closed the door to get a good look at myself in the mirror. The good deal of my own manifestation sent another chill down my spine, but it wasn't one of anxiety or nerves, thankfully. It was of authority. I couldn't remember ever having liked the way I looked so much before. My skin was truly radiant from point to toe. The box braids on my head cascaded down and framed my face perfectly, but didn't take away from my favorite facial feature : my high cheekbones. Turning my head to the left hand, 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 roundabout smirk spread across my face.There couldn't have been a better night to kip with my former college professor.

Just as I'd dressed, turned on some mood music, and finished pouring one of the two glasses of pinot noir there was a knock on my room access. He'd arrived. I took my time going over to let him in, as I wanted to shit trusted I left every trace of nerves behind me. I'd waited so long for the opportunity to do this On my way to recognize him, I took an oversized sip of the wine I had in hand a deeply breathing place, and slowly opened the door.

He had been my professor in my Junior yr British Literature course of study. I was a linguistics John Roy Major, and I wanted to take as many courses related to Book and language as I could, even if it meant choosing them as elective course. When the time came to show, I was certain I wanted to take the course with the like woman who had taught my Semantics and Phonetics class the year prior, Professor Wesley. She was a singular fair sex whose influence over me was both professional and motherly, and I told her many time that if I ever finished the book I'd been working on, I wanted her to write its foreword. My respectfulness 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 professor Stanley, some guy who'd transferred from a college upstate. I tried with all my might to interchange my class schedule and workplace agenda to make it possible for me to be taught by my one and only dead on target role model, but to no help. My whole summer leading up to that fall semester was spent in thwarting, wondering why my perfect tense design 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 spate of adrenaline. I wanted him right then, I could feel my body responding to his mere presence, but I kept my assuredness. I needed him to require me more than. professor Francis Edgar Stanley, or Matthew, as I took to calling him, was gorgeous. He nearly towered over me, standing at a full 6'1"while I was 5'4 ”. He was muscular, had a wax head of salt and capsicum pepper plant hairsbreadth and wore thick rimmed glasses. Honestly, he could've been a GQ good example if he was 20 years younger.

"good evening, gorgeous ”, he said in a low voice, still wearing that smile. His green eyes twinkled.

"Hey, Mister ”, I replied, trying not to think too concentrated about how hot I'd become in the last ten mo. Hesitantly, he leaned in for a hug, his left hired man resting firmly but gently on my bare skin. The scent on Matthew's disastrous button up was intoxicating, and his strong, tender chest pushed up against my face sent my head reeling. He was a stereotypically virile 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 mind, but I brought a little bite for us. I've been obsessed with this Vietnamese situation a couple miles away from the university, so I thought I'd institute some spring rolls. I also picked up some sake. You okay with that ?"

I smiled, nodded. and decided to make a motility. I wasn't sure if he would, plus, I was unbelievably randy. I walked over to him and kissed him deeply. Pulling away, I looked into his eyes, and in an flash, his lips were on mine again. I felt his big hands on my pelvic girdle. We were doing this now.

Panting and pushing our bodies into one another, we stumbled into my bedroom and slammed the door shut. St. Matthew the Apostle grabbed my face like he owned me, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. My body was riddled with ecstasy and I noticed I was trembling as his custody slid down my face, back, and hip, picking me up by the back of my thigh, giving my ass a firm squeeze and slap on the way down. I whimpered as he began sucking on my breasts and cervix, and I chuckled to myself, thinking about what I would end up saying to avoid explaining to acquaintance and coworkers that my former college professor had given me a zit.

"God, every bit of you tastes so fucking goodness ”, Matthew sighed. His grimace looked completely different than it did when he first walked into my apartment hallway fifteen minutes ago. He looked completely different now, his chicken feed removed, small string of beads of sweat on his hilltop and bureau, the dilation of his schoolchild. He looked completely fleshly, like just being in the Lapp room with me was all it really took to get him off. I realized that, in this minute, he felt like he needed me. This revelation sent adrenaline charging through every single in of my soundbox. I was wide-cut of ability, intensity level and ascendency.

"Put me down,"I whispered.

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

"Put me down, now."This time, my phonation mimicked the power I felt inside. His hired man reluctantly loosened its bobby pin on my second joint, and after a consequence my toes met the carpet. The atmosphere suddenly shifted. Matthew's face was now obscure, uneasy and scared. It turned me on. I let the quiet form for a few more seconds ; I quite liked the uncomfortable look on Matthew's pretty picayune side. When I was cook, I turned him around, pushing his face against the door with my script and forced myself up against his back.

"Okay, you had it your way. You had your fun, Matthew Stanley."Quickly, I reached into his Jockey shorts and tightly grabbed his cock, making him gasp. His erecting began to fleet when I took charge, but after a dyad seconds, His foul-up was back. I stroked it slowly before whispering,"But now it's my turn. This is my nursing home, and you'll do what I say."He moaned deeply, passionately, and I could palpate him trembling. Stepping back once, I moved my paw from the side of his face to his mentum, forcing his nous back. I kissed his backrest and shoulders tenderly, softly tracing his spine with my digit, and punctuated it quickly with a smack of his ass. It felt softer and liberal than I had anticipated.

"This ass is mine, you got that ?"

"Mmm, yes ma'am. It's all yours ”, St. Matthew sighed. I was surprised to hear his voice had soften as much as it had, and I looked down to see pre-cum escaping his hard-on. He knew what I was ready 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 follow me. We were closing to the Inner Light, and I could see his expression better than I could previously. He had completely submitted to me, and all it took was a couple judgment of conviction. The longer this went on, and the more he readily responded to my authority, the more aware I was of the moisture in my scanty.

"Take those off,"I demanded, pointing to the just article of article of clothing he still had on : his pre-cum stained blue boxer briefs. Grabbing the waistband and avoiding eye contact with me, he began to slide his underwear off his hips, until I stopped him.

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

"Yes… yes ma'am, it is,"he replied. He turned around removed his underwear, and again, I was shocked at how big his ass was once there was nothing left to enshroud it up. His ass wasn't hairy, and neither was his hollow. I could see he'd also bleached it. He was ready. After a mo, he turned around and looked at me. His cock looked even harder. I smirked.

"Now, be a good 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 Little Joe and arched his cover, spreading his wooden leg out to reveal his rigorous 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 backdoor, and so despite my desire to play with a man's ass, I'd never met one who wanted to not only give it a try, but who was positively obsessed with it. St. Matthew wanted me to do anything I wanted to that ass of his, and I knew it. It'd been for a while since he'd slept with a cleaning woman who wanted to do this with him, and his craving for a strap on in his dickhead was so hot that I wanted to attain him recount me exactly how he wanted this to go.

"Little Matty,"I began to ask as I moved around on the bed and began to advertise my wet pussy against his ass. It felt so good and soft."I know you want me to bed your short golf hole. I can tell how badly you want to rebound up and down on that didlo I bought just for you. But before you do, I need you to tell me in groovy detail exactly what you want."Again, I leaned forward and pulled his top dog back toward me by his hair.

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

"I want you eat my ass. I've gotten off on the thought of your natural language around my hole while I use my hips to grate your face.I want you to spread my ass cheeks out so I can rub it against your natural language and backtalk. I love it when you squeeze and grab and slap my ass, it makes me feel owned. Like my torso isn't mine, but yours. I would bonk for you to lick my taint and gambling with my turncock with one hand. I want to you fuck my ass so deep and punishing, grabbing my pelvic arch and making my ass bouncing against your sexy torso. I do, I do want 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 a good deal he'd turned me on quite yet. He could not bear had a more complete ass either : smooth skin, a little muscular but still balmy enough that it jiggled when I slapped it, perfectly round. I just wanted to feel it against my clit for a while. I slid my hands slowly down his arched back and slapped his brass with both handwriting, then grabbed a handful of each, causing St. Matthew to bound, then groan. He arched his back even more, showing me his rigorous hollow once again. I could not wait to have that pressed up against my tongue. But I wanted to make him expect.

My deal migrated from his balmy ass to his hips, pulling him in finisher. Pointing my groin a little more upwards, I began moving my hips against his ass in a round motion. I loved watching as his ass squished against my soundbox. Steadily, I built a short hurrying, and his hips started twisting as well, rubbing his right field brass right up against my clit. It felt so undecomposed I couldn't help but let out a groan, and he followed suit. My pap were now tough and I noticed I was biting my lip. He was had me so fucking wet. Matthew's excitement was building too, as he pushed his ass into me harder and harder. Suddenly, he stopped the aphrodisiacal swirling of his hips and took to bouncing his ass back on my button. I remained still, watching as his ass moved forward and backward, jiggling every time, making a slapping sound as his hide made contact with mine.

I had to have him, and I had to make him now. I slid back on the bed to lie on my abdomen, reaching out to grab his hip joint and pull his ass down to meet me face. Pushing his ass cheeks apart, I buried my face into him, the mouldy perfume sending a shockwave from my nipples to my swollen-headed clit. I made broadside move with my lingua on his tight little arse and felt his dead body tense from the chroma of the whiz. Matthew released the longest, most desperate moan I'd heard in all my years, and it sent me reeling. After lubricating his hole with my saliva, I slapped his ass and went to townsfolk. I couldn't fucking believe this was, how sexy it was to feature my face between this man's cheeks, and how very much he fucking loved it. I bit his left field buttock, then his right wing, 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 part, his head turned back to me and his decently hand holding my heading right where he liked it. Now he was bouncing his ass up and down, rubbing his wet hole on my eager tongue. I felt I could do this for minute. We continued for a spell, me slapping and grabbing his ass, spitting on his hole, flicking my tongue this way and that way, sliding my tongue down periodically to lick his taint and suck on his balls ; him humping my face, moaning and swearing with pleasure, tugging on his cock. After a moment, I sucked on my finger and slid it into his mess, and was surprised to feel him push himself into my manus. The moaning got louder as I moved now to using two fingers and he twisted and gyrated his hips. I soon noticed I was moaning too, and I was so wet I could feel my own moisture running down my thighs.

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

"Yes, delight screw me. fucking 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 lubricator came next ; once we started, I didn't want there to be any understanding for us to hold on. Matthew looked at me longingly. I could see the anticipation in his eyes. He was so set up for me. Positioning myself just so behind him, I slowly pushed the strap on into him, being heedful not to go too fast. He let out a suspiration of satisfaction, so I sped up a touch. My hired hand were positioned on his hips, and the longer we went the more he arched his back, his ass bouncing against me again. I kept slapping it until it was red.

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

"Fuck yes, fuck me difficult baby. Ooh, yeah, fuck my ass."His groan were growing louder, and much to a greater extent effeminate. He was so fucking hot. I couldn't wait to seduce him cum. I fucked him hard, really voiceless. He tugged on his cock, and I noticed a piddling syndicate of precum underneath him. Leaning forward and making his dorsum arch even more, I pulled his tomentum, causing his head to accrue backwards. I could find out his groan better this way.

"Oh God, I'm gon na cum. FUCK yeah, I'm gon na cum !"Saint Matthew the Apostle 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 nighttime, after we had eaten the Annamite food for thought, smoked dope and drank the saki, he fucked me and went house. I showered and opened my windows to rid it of the odor of sex when I heard my speech sound gong. He'd texted me. I opened the message to a picture of him, set over with a finger in his little yap. I had no idea how he'd gotten that picture.

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

"Scheol yes ; )"I replied, and went to kip .