The Professor ( 3 )


Anal, Pegging
Standing in the cascade, a small Wave of anxiety washed over me. My eyes shot open as I finally realized what it was I was showering for in the first gear place. This meeting, tryst, get-together, date, whatever you want to call it, was only a half minute away. I slowly washed my breasts and abdomen with my loofa, trying to convince myself that the longer it took for me to get cook, the to a greater extent time would slack down, and the more time I had until he arrived on my doorstep.

Usually, men don't make me queasy. As a 26-year-old, I felt I knew what to have a bun in the oven from them, and I had a self admiration that tended to air on the side of arrogance when it came to dates that always continue me in command. I knew that I had a power over men, and I knew I could throw them require me considerably more than I could ever need them without hardly any elbow grease. I knew I could dominate them. But this man was the elision the rule. In my own way, I had worked at this. It felt like a phantasy of mine was finally coming confessedly, and my emotions could hardly make horse sense 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 require to mess it up.

I stepped out of the shower, dried myself off and looked at the outfit that was folded up on my lav seat : blue and white pinstripe cotton fiber frill-top bloomers that stopped just before the mortise joint and a livid spaghetti shoulder strap top that I would wear without a bra, as to take 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 iciness and the dampish heat of the bath sent a thrill down my spinal column. Examining the space, I determined that it looked acceptable enough to bid someone into for the night. My bed was uncharacteristically made, floor freshly vacuumed, and my desk was cleared of the stack of useless papers, tampons, Bible, and half hollow meth of water that it typically hosted. I tossed my towel in my hamper near my desk and closed the door to get a good tone at myself in the mirror. The sight of my own reflection sent another gelidity down my spine, but it wasn't one of anxiety or boldness, thankfully. It was of assurance. I couldn't remember ever having liked the way I looked so often before. My skin was truly refulgent from head to toe. The box gold braid on my school principal cascaded down and framed my fount perfectly, but didn't take away from my darling facial lineament : my high zygomatic bone. Turning my head to the left, I peered at the shoulder strap on harness I had purchased specifically for the invitee I had coming over. I looked back at myself in the mirror and watched as a devious smirk spread across my face.There couldn't have been a better night to log Z's with my former college professor.

Just as I'd dressed, turned on some mood music, and finished pouring one of the two meth of Pinot noir there was a knock on my door. He'd arrived. I took my meter going over to let him in, as I wanted to make sure I left every vestige of nerves 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 hired man a bass breath, and slowly opened the threshold.

He had been my prof in my next-to-last year British Literature grade. I was a linguistics major, and I wanted to take as many line related to words and language as I could, even if it meant choosing them as elective course. When the time came to read, I was sure I wanted to get hold of the form with the same cleaning lady who had taught my Semantics and Phonetics form the class prior, Professor Wesley. She was a singular woman whose influence over me was both professional and maternally, and I told her many times that if I ever finished the Scripture I'd been working on, I wanted her to pen its foreword. My respectfulness for her was unmatched, and I wanted to take over every bit of entropy from her as I could. Thus, I was nearly in a rage when I learned I would be taking the course of study not with her but with a prof Stanley, some guy who'd transferred from a college upstate. I tried with all my might to change my socio-economic class schedule and work docket to build it possible for me to be taught by my one and only rightful role model, but to no help. My completely summertime leading up to that nightfall semester was spent in frustration, wondering why my perfect plan had crumbled before me, that is, until I finally met my new instructor.

-- -- -

He stood in front man of me, smiling that aphrodisiacal smile of his, and I felt a monolithic rush of adrenaline. I wanted him right then, I could find my body responding to his bare presence, but I kept my cool. I needed him to want me more. Professor Stanley, or Gospel According to 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 full head of salt and peppercorn hair and wore midst rimmed glasses. Honestly, he could've been a GQ model if he was 20 class younger.

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

"Hey, Mister ”, I replied, trying not to think too intemperate about how hot I'd become in the final ten second base. Hesitantly, he leaned in for a hug, his left script resting firmly but gently on my bare skin. The odour on Gospel According to Matthew's melanise button up was intoxicating, and his strong, warm chest pushed up against my grimace sent my head reeling. He was a stereotypically manly man, and it made me require to direct him for my own even more. The embrace eventually came to an end, and I moved to the side of meat to let him in.

"Hey, so I hope you don't mind, but I brought a little snack for us. I've been obsessed with this Annamite spot a couple geographical mile away from the university, so I thought I'd bring some spring bowl. I also picked up some sake. You okay with that ?"

I smiled, nodded. and decided to puddle 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 eyes, and in an split second, his lips were on mine again. I felt his big script on my hip. We were doing this now.

heaving and pushing our body into one another, we stumbled into my bedroom and slammed the threshold shut. Gospel According to Matthew grabbed my face like he owned me, and I wrapped my weapons system around his neck. My dead body was riddled with ecstasy and I noticed I was trembling as his paw slid down my face, back, and hips, picking me up by the rachis of my second joint, giving my ass a firm credit crunch and smack on the way down. I whimpered as he began sucking on my breasts and neck, and I chuckled to myself, thinking about what I would end up saying to avoid explaining to friends and coworkers that my former college professor had given me a hickey.

"God, every bit of you tastes so fucking good ”, Matthew sighed. His face looked completely dissimilar than it did when he first walked into my apartment hallway fifteen proceedings ago. He looked completely unlike now, his glasses removed, small drop of fret on his brow and chest, the dilation of his pupils. He looked completely fleshly, wish just being in the same 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 Apocalypse sent adrenaline charging through every single in of my body. I was fully of baron, strong suit and control.

"Put me down,"I whispered.

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

"Put me down, now."This prison term, my voice mimicked the power I felt inside. His hands reluctantly loosened its grip on my thighs, and after a moment my toes met the carpet. The atmosphere suddenly shifted. Matthew's cheek was now confused, nervous and frighten off. It turned me on. I let the silence soma for a few Thomas More seconds ; I quite liked the uncomfortable looking on Matthew's pretty picayune typeface. When I was ready, I turned him around, pushing his face against the door with my hand and forced myself up against his back.

"Okay, you had it your way. You had your fun, St. Matthew the Apostle Stanley."Quickly, I reached into his brief and tightly grabbed his cock, making him gasp. His erection began to evanesce when I took charge, but after a duet seconds, His boner was back. I stroked it slowly before whispering,"But now it's my twist. This is my home, and you'll do what I say."He moaned deeply, passionately, and I could finger him trembling. Stepping back once, I moved my bridge player from the slope of his face to his chin, forcing his head back. I kissed his vertebral column and shoulders tenderly, softly tracing his spikelet with my finger, and punctuated it quickly with a slap of his ass. It felt softer and openhanded 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 hear his voice had soften as a good deal as it had, and I looked down to see pre-cum escaping his erection. He knew what I was gear 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 follow me. We were closing to the Light, and I could see his face 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 cognisant I was of the moisture in my panties.

"Take those off,"I demanded, pointing to the only 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 pelvic arch, until I stopped him.

"No. become 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 underclothing, and again, I was shocked at how big his ass was once there was nothing left to cover it up. His ass wasn't hairy, and neither was his mess. I could see he'd also bleached it. He was make. After a moment, he turned around and looked at me. His shaft looked even harder. I smirked.

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

Saint Matthew was excited, despite his deportment. He crawled onto the bed and did more than I was expecting : he got down on all fours and arched his back, spreading his legs out to expose his sozzled asshole. Oh, piece of tail, 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 flirt 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. Saint 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 woman who wanted to do this with him, and his craving for a strap on in his asshole was so hot that I wanted to gain him tell me exactly how he wanted this to go.

"Little Matty,"I began to ask as I moved around on the bed and began to crowd my wet pussy against his ass. It felt so good and voiced."I know you want me to make out your fiddling hollow. I can tell 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 nifty detail exactly what you want."Again, I leaned forward and pulled his headspring 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 persuasion of your tongue around my maw while I use my hips to grind your face.I want you to propagate my ass cheeks out so I can rub it against your clapper and lips. I love it when you squeeze and grab and slap my ass, it makes me finger owned. Like my body isn't mine, but yours. I would love for you to thrash my taint and fun with my cock with one hand. I want to you fuck my ass so deep and hard, grabbing my hips and making my ass bounce against your sexy body. I do, I do require 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 eff hot. I had to use everything in me to resist my temptation to moan right-hand 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 perfective tense ass either : smooth skin, a slight muscular but still flabby enough that it jiggled when I slapped it, perfectly beat. I just wanted to feel it against my clit for a piece. I slid my hands slowly down his arched back and slapped his cheeks with both mitt, then grabbed a handful of each, causing Matthew to jump, then groan. He arched his back even more, showing me his tight golf hole once again. I could not wait to give birth that pressed up against my tongue. But I wanted to make him wait.

My script migrated from his indulgent ass to his coxa, pulling him in finisher. Pointing my groin a little more upwards, I began moving my hips against his ass in a orbitual question. I loved watching as his ass squished against my body. Steadily, I built a little pep pill, and his pelvis started twisting as well, rubbing his right cheek right up against my clit. It felt so good I couldn't service but let out a moan, and he followed suit. My nipples were now hard and I noticed I was biting my lip. He was had me so fucking wet. St. Matthew's excitation was building too, as he pushed his ass into me backbreaking and harder. Suddenly, he stopped the sexy swirling of his hips 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 phone as his hide made liaison with mine.

I had to have him, and I had to have him now. I slid back on the bed to lie on my stomach, reaching out to grab his rose hip and draw in his ass down to meet me face. Pushing his ass impudence apart, I buried my typeface into him, the mouldy scent sending a shockwave from my mamilla to my swollen clit. I made circular motions with my tongue on his pixilated little asshole and felt his dead body tense from the vividness of the superstar. Matthew released the longest, most desperate moan I'd heard in all my years, and it sent me reeling. After lubricating his pickle with my spit, I slapped his ass and went to townsfolk. I couldn't fucking believe this was, how aphrodisiacal it was to have my human face between this man's cheeks, and how a great deal he fucking loved it. I bit his left cheek, then his right, 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 chief turned back to me and his ripe script holding my headspring right where he liked it. Now he was bouncing his ass up and down, rubbing his wet fix on my bore tongue. I felt I could do this for hours. We continued for a while, me slapping and grabbing his ass, spitting on his hole, flicking my clapper this way and that way, sliding my tongue down periodically to lap his taint and suck on his clump ; him humping my brass, moaning and swearing with pleasure, tugging on his cock. After a moment, I sucked on my finger's breadth and slither it into his hole, and was surprised to feel him push himself into my hand. 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 find my own wet running down my thighs.

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

"Yes, delight bang me. screwing my like you mean it,"he replied.

I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed the strap on and, fumbling all the piece, I slipped it around my hips, adjusting it just so. The lubricator came adjacent ; once we started, I didn't want there to be any reason for us to stop. St. Matthew looked at me longingly. I could see the anticipation in his eyes. He was so ready 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 ghost. My hands 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 catch my breath.

"piece of ass yes, fuck me severe baby. Ooh, yeah, fuck my ass."His moan were growing louder, and much Sir Thomas More effeminate. He was so be intimate hot. I couldn't wait to make him cum. I fucked him arduous, really hard. He tugged on his cock, and I noticed a small pool of precum underneath him. Leaning forward and making his back arch even more, I pulled his pilus, causing his head word to pass backwards. I could get word his moans 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 reliever. I pulled the shoulder strap on out of him, and leaned back to catch my breather. We both giggled.



Later that night, after we had eaten the Vietnamese food, smoked weed and drank the rice beer, he fucked me and went home. I showered and opened my Windows to rid it of the smell of sex when I heard my sound chime. He'd texted me. I opened the message to a picture of him, set over with a fingerbreadth in his fiddling trap. I had no theme how he'd gotten that picture.

"No one has ever made me cum that strong before. Let's do it again next workweek ?"read his message.

"the pits yes ; )"I replied, and went to slumber .
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