by L. D. Fox
She touched her mouth to the side of his shaft, kissing him so softly he almost thought he was imagining it. Then her tongue touched the tip of his dick again, pressed into the tiny slit on its crown.
His fist was against his mouth again.
“You could ask her to join us,” Wine was saying. Who? What the hell was this girl talking about? “Samantha,” Wine added, as if reading his mind.
“Join us?” Jason asked, hating the way his voice quavered.
Unbidden, his mind sped to the last image he had of Samantha. Of her walking up the stairs of the auditorium, slow motion, her perfect ass and the rest of her curvy body silhouetted against the light outside as she pushed open the door.
“We could take turns giving you head.” Wine wrapped both her hands around Jason’s cock again, massaging his balls with her fingertips. She ran the tip of her tongue up his shaft, starting from his balls, tracing a sinuous route that slowed the closer she came to reaching his crown.
Then, without only a small gasp as warning, Wine slid her lips over the tip of his cock and sucked him for a nanosecond. She drew back, releasing his dick with a soft pop. Wine giggled at that, and Jason groaned again, stifling the noise with that same fist. Her soft laugh reached right inside him and pressed every goddamn button he ever had or ever would possess.
Again, Wine ducked her head forward, her hair sliding around her shoulders as she took in even more of him.
Her mouth was as hot as the coffee had been, but wetter. Her tongue undulated against the bottom of his shaft, its tip flicking left, then right. Both her hands were still wrapped around his dick. She began rubbing him out with the tip of his cock inside her small, hot mouth. Her pink lips formed a perfect ‘0’ around his cock, the bubblegum-flavoured juices of her mouth glistening wetly along his erection.
It was as if the girl was patiently waiting for him to ram his dick as deep inside her throat as it would go and cum down the back of her throat.
Jason grabbed a fistful of her hair, holding her steady as he forced himself deeper inside the scorching confines of her mouth. She tightened her hands around his dick. Her lips slammed into her fingers, preventing him exploring any more of her sweet, slippery mouth. He groaned, unable to stifle the noise because he had both hands in her hair and was trying, trying so hard to shove his cock deeper.
She was so hot. So wet. So fucking tight and slick.
Her tits jiggled as he drew out his dick and thrust it into her again, fucking her mouth like he would if it was her pussy.
Wine tensed, perhaps sensing that he was close to the edge.
Her fingers glided over his sac. She touched the skin between his dick and his sphincter, rubbing it, applying the lightest pressure.
Every muscle in Jason’s body stiffened.
He cried out softly and clutched Wine’s hair in a fist. As he came, the girl tugged on his dick and slid almost half of it inside her mouth.
Heat seared through Jason. He came violently into the back of the cheerleader’s throat, feeling the tip of his penis touching the roof of her mouth as he did. Her tongue folded around the bottom of his shaft and caressed it as his dick pulsed and throbbed, greedily sucking at everything he spurted into her.
She drew his cock out, gently, slowly, while he spasmed, her fingertips dancing over his shaft. She kissed him, took his penis and guided it back inside his jeans as she dragged them up over his legs. Wine ran her thumb and forefinger down either side of her mouth, wiping at the milky cum rimming her lips. She sucked the last bit of him off her finger, and grinned at him around her pink nail.
Jason’s legs trembled. He managed to fasten his buckle with a shaking hand.
“That was…”
Wine shook her head fiercely. Her expression turned serious as she slid her hands under his shirt and pressed herself up against him. Her breasts were firm, her erect nipples grazing his skin.
“It still is,” she whispered. “I’ll see you soon, professor.”
And then she was gone like before: as if she’d never been here at all.
But his throbbing dick was all the proof he needed that she had been here, that he’d been here, right in her sweet, moist little mouth.
Jason let out a long breath and slid into his chair, staring at the ceiling as he waited for his heart to stop hammering against his rib cage.
* * *
Jason was marking term papers left behind by his predecessor when Samantha slipped into the auditorium. After Wine’s performance that morning, he couldn’t be in his office without getting a hard on. If he wanted to get any work done, then he’d have to do it here or at home.
He heard the door swing open.
Was it Wine? Had she come back for more?
His hand tightened around his pen. He glanced up, shoulders tight with anticipation. Dick already starting to stir. Heart rate accelerating.
Then he recognised Samantha’s silhouette. She was making her careful way down the stairs; he’d left the lights off again and the only light was a small circle of illumination cast by the stand lamp on his desk.
Samantha wore a yellow full-length dress today; one of those that were cinched below the breasts and loose everywhere else. He’d never thought they were in the least bit flattering until he saw her in it.
“Jason,” Samantha called, giving him a small wave in greeting. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all, Sam. Uh, Samantha.”
The woman smiled at him. “Sam is fine.”
“What can I do for you?”
“It’s about Saturday.” She shrugged. “I hate to do this to you, but—”
“Saturday?” Jason set down his pen and frowned at her. “I don’t follow.”
Samantha drew to a halt at the edge of his podium. His lamp made Sam’s pale dress glow. She wore her auburn hair up in a bun at the back of her head, but ringlets had escaped their tight prison and framed her face. She had a wide, luscious mouth, free of any lipstick.
“Bowling?” A faint blush stained her cheeks. “I told you about it yesterday, when you were—”
“Oh, yes.” Jason shook his head. “I’m sorry, my head is in the clouds. It’s these damned papers.”
Sam glanced at his table and nodded in sympathy. “Don’t I know it,” she said with a laugh. “Um… may I?” She gestured toward the desk.
Unsure of what she wanted to do, Jason just nodded. Sam twisted and slid her ass onto the edge of his desk, drawing her right leg partly onto its surface. Jason stared at her for a second and then rushed to his feet.
“Sam, please, take my seat.”
“No, this is fine.” She waved him away and began running the strap of her dress through her fingertips. “This is a bit awkward, so I’m not sure…” she trailed off and grimaced slightly at him.
Jason’s heart began to accelerate.
What was she trying to say? Was it about him and Wine? About what happened this morning? Did she know about it? Had she walked past and heard something? Fuck, she could have walked in and he wouldn’t have known it, near the end.
And of course, even just fucking thinking about Wine gave him a hard on. Jason squirmed in his chair, blinking furiously in an attempt to focus on Sam’s face.
This had to stop. He couldn’t even carry on a conversation with a colleague without Wine’s wide green eyes and her raspberry lips sliding into his mind. Sliding over his dick—
“…so I don’t know if that’s possible, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind. You’re so quiet. Jason? Will it be a problem? Jason?”
He snapped out of the vivid reverie of Wine’s mouth around his cock and stared at Sam, hurriedly replaying what she’d said. He’d missed too much of it.
“I’m sorry, Sam. Could you repeat that?”
Samantha brought a fist to her mouth and gently cleared her throat. “I shouldn’t be asking—”
“No, please. I would love to help you in any way I can.”
“Oh… well…” She washed her hands in her
lap, looking away from him. “My car’s going to be in the shop this weekend — perfect timing, right? — and I was wondering if you could possibly—”
“You want a lift?” Jason interrupted, voice dripping with relief. “Sure, Sam. Of course. No problem at all.”
“It would just be on the way back. Terrence — he’s the English teacher — he lives up the road from me. He can bring me, but he’s leaving early and—”
Jason lifted his hand. “Sam, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
“Your… family won’t mind? Your wife, I mean?”
“Oh.” It was Jason’s turn to look away. “I’m divorced. Although, if Kate knew, she would definitely mind.”
When Jason looked up at Sam, her eyes were wide. She shook her head at him, as if unsure of what to make of his statement.
“She’s a real piece of work,” Jason added.
Sam broke into a relieved smile. It really did something to her when she smiled; her brown eyes sparkled, and a tiny dimple appeared in her cheek.
“Thank you.”
Sam smoothed her dress over her thigh, one hand lifting to toy with a shoulder strap. Jason could see a hint of muscle beneath the thin fabric. And then he thought of Wine’s long legs, that first day when she’d lifted her skirt without knowing he was there.
Or perhaps knowing all along.
He watched Sam run her hand back up the top of her thigh and absently adjust the line of her underwear through her dress. Did she wear french-cut panties like Wine? Or a thong? No, she looked like a boyleg-type of girl.
As if he was an expert in these matters.
Jason shook his head.
“I owe you,” Sam said.
Jason looked back up at her. Luckily, she was looking down at herself and not at him. He doubted she would let him drive her anywhere if she caught him checking her out a second time. Or if she could see the bulge in his jeans right now.
“Not at all.” He cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses with a furtive knuckle. “I’m kind of looking forward to it.”
“You are?” Sam cocked an eyebrow at him. “Bowling? With a bunch of teachers?”
“You forget,” Jason said. “I’m one of you.”
Samantha laughed. She hopped off the table and clasped her hands together in front of her.
“Thank you, Jason.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“See you around,” she said, and started up the stairs.
Jason ran a hand through his hair.
“Fuck, I hope not,” he whispered to himself. “You have a habit of turning up in the wrong place at just the wrong time, Sam.”
* * *
Wine didn’t show up for class for the rest of the week. It seemed — when he’d dragged up enough courage to ask — that the cheerleader rarely made an appearance at the university.
Despite this, she had rather good grades. Maybe chemistry wasn’t that hard for her, after all.
Just professors.
He wondered if she’d plied her wares with any of the other male faculty. That led to a horde of dark thoughts about Wine at the end of the chancellor’s dick and he hastily ended that line of questioning before he could lose his lunch.
By Friday, he’d almost managed to wipe the young student and her pleated skirt from his mind.
But then he had a moment of weakness that night.
Having looked her up in the university’s records earlier that week, worried that she might be dead or kidnapped, he’d put her cellphone number into his phone.
Sitting alone in his apartment on Friday night, with nothing to watch because he was still waiting for his cable to be connected, Jason kept unlocking his phone every few minutes. He would open his contact and stare at Wine’s phone number.
He’d saved her number under ‘W’, which should have been a massive, blaring warning that whatever he was considering he most definitely shouldn’t be fucking considering.
Flashes of the epic blowjob she’d given him on Wednesday kept returning, but the memory itself was fading fast.
He’d had whiskey again that night, glass after glass, until the phone’s screen was a blur. But her initial was always easily recognisable.
Despite every atom of his being screaming at him not to, Jason sent the cheerleader a text.
You okay?
Didn’t see you in class today.
If you want to talk, I’m at—
And then he’d paused. If he put his address in and anyone ever found her phone — or his — he would be fired. No two-ways about it.
But he’d typed in his address anyway, thumb moving almost automatically as he pictured Wine’s breasts, squeezed so tight in that pink tank top, a shade that perfectly matched her rosy lips. He’d shuddered, remembering how she’d teased the tip of his cock with her tongue. How she’d teased him, from the moment she first saw him.
Wine never replied to his message.
In a way, Jason was glad. He didn’t regret what had happened, but the time he’d had away from her had brought clarity. He couldn’t do anything with her again, not if he wanted to keep his job. Not if he wanted to keep his self-respect.
It was simple: he couldn’t bang the cheerleader. No matter how fucking badly she wanted it.
Chapter Four: An Education in Fucking
JASON WOKE ON SATURDAY feeling as though a massive burden had been lifted from him. He was even looking forward to bowling, as much as he despised the sport itself.
And, unsurprisingly, he was eager to see Samantha.
She’d brought him oatmeal cookies yesterday, saying that she’d almost eaten the whole packet by herself. Saying she would get fat if she ate everything herself. He didn’t believe a word of it, but he appreciated the gesture.
He dressed in a golf shirt and jeans and decided not to shave. Perhaps he’d try and grow a beard this winter, who knew? Without Kate whining in his ears about his lack of personal grooming, he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.
Maybe the move out here was finally starting to pay off.
When Samantha spotted him at the bowling alley, she walked over with a wide smile on her face.
She wasn’t wearing any make-up today. Strangely, it made her look younger and prettier. Maybe she wasn’t any good at applying cosmetics. She wore a ‘Go Beavers’ t-shirt that struggled to contain her breasts and a pair of pale capri pants that ended just below her knees.
He’d been right: her legs were well defined; all the way from her shapely calves to her muscular thighs.
Realising he was staring, Jason moved his eyes back to Sam’s and forced a smile onto his mouth.
“You look… different.” His voice wasn’t as casual as he’d hoped for.
“There aren’t any students here,” Sam said, cocking her head to the side. She held a glass of wine in her hand and, from her flushed cheeks, it probably wasn’t her first. “I swear, if I ever get another student commenting on my ass, I’ll quit.”
Jason hastily cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine how terrible that must be.”
She widened her eyes at him, her lips quivering as if she were suppressing a smile.
“Don’t make it sound like that,” she scolded. “Of course I don’t mind compliments. But not if it’s inappropriate.” She took a sip of her wine. “You know what’s like.” She lifted a finger from her wine glass and pointed at him with it “You’re a handsome one. Female students must come onto you all the time.”
“Uh—” Jason swallowed.
“I’m so sorry.” Samantha pressed her fingers over her mouth. “I’ve had too much wine.” She began looking around, perhaps for a place to set her wine glass down.
“No, it’s fine. I do know what you mean.” Jason glanced over at the faculty members, most of who were already engaged in a raucous game of bowling. “Where did you get that, anyway?” he asked, pointing to the glass.
“Follow me.”
It was impossible not to stare at her ass as she sashayed ahead of him,
leading him through the bowling alley while she effortlessly sidestepped howling children.
“Do you play?” she asked.
“Not at all.”
“Oh, good,” she breathed. “The last time I tried, I forgot to let go of the ball.”
“What?”
She glanced back at him as she emptied her wine. “I almost scored a strike,” she said with a shrug.
Jason laughed and, after a second, Samantha joined him.
* * *
“Sssh…” Samantha hissed.
She pressed a finger to Jason’s lips, almost missing.
“No, but—”
“Just five secs.” The way she slurred, it sounded as if she’d said ‘sex’. Just five sex. It sounded like fun.
Sam swayed and Jason caught hold of her elbow to keep her up.
“Five sex ‘s all I need.”
Him too. Maybe six, if he was feeling adventurous.
“My place is a mess, Sam.” Jason propped the intoxicated biology teacher against the wall and squinted at the keys in his hands. One of them had to open the front door, but which? It was like Russian roulette; except if he got it wrong Sam would — in her own words — pee her pants.
“I don’t give a damn if you’re running a brothel in there right now.” She folded her legs together and slammed her fist into the lintel. “Faster, Jason. Please!”
Jason chuckled and finally found the right key.
He pushed open the door and pointed to the bathroom. In his tiny apartment, it was impossible to miss.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Samantha rushed past him and slammed the door closed.
Jason ran a hand through his hair and glanced around his apartment. It wasn’t actually a mess; Kate had been as strict in her housekeeping as everything else. After ten years, it had rubbed off on him. There was nothing here that Sam could—
