by J. E. Keep
Her head tilted back and knocked against the cupboard, but the sharp sensation only brought the pleasure he was bringing her into sharper focus. She had a great adoration for Allen, if not respect and appreciation for how easily he worked her body into a frenzy. With others it took something special, something extra to bring her to such a boiling point.
With him, it was all she needed. No matter the setting, he always brought her to her knees, and her heels dug into his thighs as she moaned. It was a low, throaty sound that was rewarding and appreciative as he felt through the slick material, the panties conforming to her tender lips.
Squeezing her thigh and stoking the fires of her loins through those panties, by the time he tugged them crudely aside to expose her, she had been near writhing in anticipation for a while. The kettle had died down by the point he was undoing his belt, his lips smacking loudly against her neck and ear as he pulled out that gorgeous and almost over-large cock of his, so perfectly shaped and throbbing with desire for her.
Despite the bulging thing with its slick dark tip being long familiar to her, it was no less a stunning tool of masculinity as he brought it to her loins.
Her lidded eyes dropped to it, and she knew the look on her face. It was one of pure carnality and desire, and her breath hitched. She shifted her body, lifting her skirt further around her waist as she stared down with appreciation at his beautiful shaft. She loved to watch as that purple, throbbing head pierced her delicate cunny, and she licked her lips in desire.
“Moments like this tempt me to throw it all away and give you those keys,” she murmured in her breathless, lusty voice.
Allen, for all his near overwhelming lust, was watching too. He seemed to enjoy that penetration as much as she did, and he teased the wide tip over her slit, flicking it across her sensitive clit and keeping her senses so primed. “You should,” he said huskily, “you got no idea how often I could pop over and see to your needs if I could just drop by whenever.” That was about all he had to say, for he pushed the thick crown against her flushly and let it begin to sink into that flowered, damp quim, giving such a noisy groan in the process.
She knew how other women had sex. She’d made love and been fucked by enough married men to gather that their wives were under appreciative and inactive, disinterested and detached. She, however, was engaged and desirous, filling the air with her loud moans and soft whimpers as that thick shaft pressed through her body. She watched the heated, blood filled member as it disappeared between her thighs, and when finally he could go no further, she admired the length that remained.
If she could tilt back, he could disappear it wholly within her, causing her to writhe in painful ecstasy, but the countertop offered no such luxuries, so instead she kissed him. Her moans reverberated against his tongue as she suckled on it, drawing it into her mouth and teasing it with teeth and wet muscle.
Allen’s strong grasp fell upon her thigh and breast, squeezing her in those two places as he began to piston his hips even while they kissed. The man wasted no time, and she could feel that thick organ inside her twisting as he angled himself just so, bringing the full brunt of that godly tool against her cunt so that each thrust was a delightfully jarring motion.
Moaning against her tongue he kept her close to him, encouraging her legs up around him as he bucked. For all his failings, his physicality was astounding. A life of athletic training turned his muscular form into a perfect tool for fucking her.
Where he was hard, she was soft and feminine. Her large breast, even beneath the bra, shaped to his hand so pleasantly, and her fleshy thighs wrapped around his hard hips even tighter. Her eyes opened partially, looking over his handsome face and feeling her body pulse for him. She contracted her lower muscle, squeezing him as if some reward for a job well done, and she held her breath.
At just the right angle, with just the right speed, he knew how to make her scream his name, and she could feel that moment approaching.
She knew that was exactly what he intended. Make her ‘sing’, he called it.
So with a few more noisily wet kisses on her full lips she watched that broad jawed face of his, so smooth and handsome beneath his short dark hair and eyes, contort into such deep, satisfied pleasure. His startling girth thickened within her all the more, pulsing as his own release approached with each new slap of his heavy balls and thighs against her own soft flesh.
“Y’feel so good, teach,” he muttered, and with her clenching his cock so purposefully, and his face so full of the strain of his impending orgasm, there was nothing to doubt about how intensely he meant that.
Her lip was the first thing that began to tremble, but the feeling quickly passed through her entire body. Her beautiful face contorted and reddened, her clothing feeling so tight and restrictive as the waves crashed against her form. She didn’t tighten her legs around him or beg him in deeper; he knew what to do the second she gasped, and he did it perfectly.
Just like always.
Her head slammed back into the cupboards, her throat elongating as she screamed out his name, her voice filled with such powerful lust as her pussy contracted and twitched around his thick cock, drawing forth the thick throbs and virile flood of cum as he loosed himself inside her.
With his head pushed back, face ruddy with the strain as he cried out his own triumph, he pumped into that tight, clinging cunt with each new spurt of his seed. Such a long and intense release, he rode her long after her quim gushed its own honey over his dick to seep out warmly over his sac.
Even as her own bliss passed, he was rocking into her with the last of what he had in him.
Her arms went about his neck, and she was kissing his ear, whispering nasty little words to him, appreciation for his fucking obvious. This was the man that had helped her with her early desires, before she learned to conquer them, and there was something sweet and tender in the way she held him.
They always parted with the understanding of what they had, and neither were interested in a serious relationship. Even when she was younger and lusting for the powerful jock, she’d known it wouldn’t seriously work out. Instead, they both got the best of one another.
As she rested back, catching her breath, she rubbed the back of her head with tender fingers, “Ow. That smarts.”
With a loud, boisterous laugh he slipped his hand from her thigh around to her ass and squeezed it before leaning in and kissing her lips. “Poor teach,” he said. With a satisfied sigh he looked about, “That was just what I needed. Though... is it okay if I pull out now or should I carry you into the bathroom again?” he asked, the aftermath and mess of sex old hat to them.
“If you’re going to be wrestling today, shouldn’t you work out a bit,” she moaned, resting her body against him. “I’m already going to have to scrub the counter, I’d rather not have to mop it as well.” She kissed his jaw and seemed so much more content after their tryst.
With another chuckle the large man lifted her up with an arm in around her backside, cupping her ass beneath her skirt as he lifted her up and carried her to the bathroom. It was an oddly sweet looking thing, the two nestled together so, still intertwined with their loins locked, as he carried her on into the bathroom across the hall. It was something of a miracle the athletic man was able to manipulate them both to lay her down on the toilet and extricate himself without making a mess of things.
Kissing her forehead he said, “So I won’t be seein’ you after the tryout,” he said, “guess you got plans of your own, huh?’
“I’m actually just worried I’ll want to join in,” she teased as she cleaned off her sex, gingerly placing back the panties and standing, handing him the used cloth. “As tempting as that sounds, you know me and my reputation. It’s going to be a struggle enough to be taken seriously as a professor.”
Cleaning himself up he nodded, “Maybe when you’re a professor I could come back and actually graduate,” he smiled, more serious than joking. “Y’know, since I got an in with the woman doin
’ the grading.”
Leaning over he placed a hand back upon her ass and kissed her cheek, “Thanks teach, you were just what I needed.” His voice husky but quieter than usual.
She felt warm against his lips and her hand found his jaw. “You’ll be fine if you study,” she murmured. She’d been saying the same thing to him for years, and though he did manage to get into the College, it was only because of her. They both knew it, though she never mentioned it.
With a broad, satisfied smile, Allen went back out, tidied up and looking as good as ever. “So I’ll see you again soon then, huh?” he asked, looking around for his books he discarded, unable to pick them out from the rest and seeming to abandon the effort almost immediately.
She sighed and quickly picked his out of her pile, handing them to him. “I hope so,” she agreed as she moved to her tiptoes and kissed his jaw bone. “It had been far too long. How do you expect a girl to be able to survive without you for so many days?”
Taking his books he shrugged his broad shoulders, “Well y’know I try!” he pleaded, “But with you and your studies, and me and sports, I can never seem to catch ya,” and she could see the dumb hunk meant it entirely. The consternation on his face obvious. “Been tryin’ for ages, and if I couldn’t get ya to skip class it’d probably be another week,” she could swear he’d almost be pouting if not for his overwhelming manliness which kept it at bay.
Her lips curled pleasantly and she kissed his lower lip with a soft, tender motion before stepping back, “Then aren’t we lucky my Professor had to cancel. I’d wish you luck today, but I know you’ll do fine, so instead I’ll wish I was there.”
Heading towards the door at his slow, meandering pace he always had whenever he didn’t want to do something he kept turning and looking to her. “Me too,” he groaned. “But if you give me that key I could pop in tonight,” he was sporting a full grin, “after some drinks with the boys at the dorm of course. I promised.”
“I might not be around,” her smile turned lopsided. “Besides, you’re so rough after drinking,” she added with a bit of a moan, as if she enjoyed the thought. “We’ll catch up soon, though,” she cooed.
Nodding obediently—for teachers word was law!—he turned and took the doorknob, “Later teach. Stay beautiful,” he remarked before heading off into the snowy outdoors in but his shirt again.
She always marvelled at how he could handle the cold—and peoples frustration with his inappropriate choice of outerwear—as she shut the door, finally going to make herself some tea and run the bath. She had only a few hours to get ready, and she fully intended to be looking her best and smelling intoxicating. As she sipped her tea, she could already feel the flush of excitement as she thought about the evening that awaited her and the tryst that had just occurred.
Chapter 3
By the time she was emerging from the bath she could hear a knock at the front door. The old lady she rented from could never hear a thing, and it’d likely remain unanswered forever if she didn’t go get it herself.
Putting on her dressing robe and feeling quite indecent, she yelled out “Coming!” Her voice sounded musical, her skin glowing after the fresh scrub, her hair already up in curlers.
Arriving at the door she could see it was the other familiar face of Martin. Still dressed as usual, with his shirt, tie and sweater beneath a thick overcoat for the cold, he looked fairly troubled through the eyehole in her door.
“Martin?” she murmured before opening the door, staring at him rather aghast. “Oh please don’t tell me you’re going to lecture me on missing class,” she frowned. “Something urgent came up. You know how it is.”
The meek man, eight years her senior but always acting as if she were his mother rather than a student beneath him, swallowed down something, quite literally. “I was worried,” he stated. Then a look of disappointment overtook his face, “I was hoping you’d get a chance to see me in action too.” He spoke as if the action were something akin to war heroism.
“I was too, actually,” she smiled a bit sadly and looking a bit more genuine. “How did it go? I wish you didn’t have to see me like this,” she sighed as she invited him in out of the cold. “Come up and I’ll make you some tea and you can tell me everything.”
The blonde man stepped in rather sheepishly, making his way according to her directions after removing his outdoor boots politely. “Oh, fine,” he began, though the intake of breath she recognized meant he had an annoying ‘but’ to follow that would involve a guilt tripping, “though it threw me not seeing you there.”
“I should have told you,” she agreed, and though she sounded sympathetic, she certainly didn’t sound guilty. “What happened with Professor Sinclair anyway? He seemed in a hurry when I ran into him. He told me that he trusted you’d do a fantastic job, however,” she smiled a bit with the lie.
Nodding his acceptance he moved into her kitchen. Rather than seating himself down as a normal guest, he instead went to make the tea for them both. “Who knows what that man is up to?” he said. “They’re all off in their own world, Eva. It’s rare they get anything done,” he complained lightly.
She tut tutted as she settled into the chair, watching him move about her kitchen with such familiarity, “It’s a good thing you’re always there to fill the gaps. Besides, with how flakey he was today, perhaps it’s a sign of things to come for you this semester. Perhaps he’s just getting older and unable to teach as he used to.”
It was cruel of her to try to raise his hopes, but she couldn’t stop herself from toying with the man. She’d known him for so long, they were practically family in her eyes.
Shrugging off the heavy coat as he went about making her the tea, he brought over the saucers once ready, resting it down before her. “That much is true,” he said, spooning up sugar and cream in the exact helping she preferred. “Though I am really quite sorry you weren’t there. I had something, ah,” he stammered, unable to go on, though she knew he had something awkward to ask. In fact, she’d not seem him in such a state in a long time and she knew it must be quite personal.
Her brows furrowed, head tilting to the side, “What’s this about, Martin?” she asked curiously as she blew upon her tea. Her eyes were wide, and though she wore no makeup, she was still stunning. Her skin looked bright and fresh, and everything about her posture spoke to her relaxed state.
Sitting back in his own chair, seemingly trying to hide behind his tea as he refused to look at her, he struggled for some words. “Ah well... I was wondering if you’d care to go to the movies tonight, Eva,” and though that wasn’t an odd request for friends of any fashion, the fact he tripped over it so much indicated he meant it as something more substantial than that.
She was surprised by the question and leaned back in her chair, a soft ‘ah’ parting her lips. “I have plans tonight,” she said softly. In her younger days she had been malicious with him, teasing him about his crush constantly. In school their age gap had seemed much more meaningful, with him in college and her still working on her admission forms.
Once she started liasoning with her Professors it seemed more likely, at least for her, except for the nagging past between them. She had grown past her cruel teen years, and instead felt bad for him. To be his age and not yet found someone seemed heart-wrenching to her; to know he was still pining over her was almost unbearable.
Nodding somewhat weakly he sipped his tea—or pretended to—and said, “Ah, I see. I figured as much.” He didn’t linger over long before he put the cups back down, “I shouldn’t have bothered you, Eva. I know you’re busy and must’ve just had a good excuse for missing. I was worried anyhow.”
“You always do,” she smiled sadly, placing her tea aside, and suddenly feeling that guilt he couldn’t illicit in her earlier. “I promise I’ll make it the next time you teach, okay? I really would love to see that. And next time you’ll get a more interesting assignment than first day.”
Looking as if he was about to say s
omething he instead merely nodded then went for his coat, getting dressed again to go out. “I do hope you have a good time tonight, Eva. Be safe,” he cautioned before exiting.
It had put a damper on her mood, but she showed him out cordially before returning to the task of getting ready. Her thoughts reeled, and she tried to push the sadness from her mind, but it was under her skin, nagging at her as she finished styling her hair, making up her face before slipping into a black cocktail dress. Gems adorned her neck and wrists, a beautiful barrette holding her brunette tresses out of her face.
The manor was large and rather old, surprisingly so, for Gregory Sinclair himself seemed not the type for such a colonial style and opulent living, with his smart dress and simple manner. Wrought iron gates kept it off from the rest of the wealthy neighbourhood and there was a porter at the gates.
She was shown through to the place itself, which was rather busy with mostly older couples. From out of the crowds Sinclair found her, “Ahh, miss Perkin’s,” he said, smiling so pleasantly at her in that subtle way of his. “So glad you could make it.”
“I couldn’t miss it,” she smiled, her clutch beautifully matching her gloves and the jewels she wore for the evening. Eva had a keen eye for fashion, even if her style did tend to run less in line with the youth. Her hand rested on top of his arm as she looked around the room, “My, did your wife invite everyone?”
It was fairly easy to walk through the large main hall without drawing much attention, there were simply too many high society types all about them for that. Speaking to her and her alone, Gregory was soft spoken as always, “I do believe she did, yes.” Looking around he added, “I despise these things, Eva dear. Simply awful. I’d much rather take my time with you in the study to discuss the latest out of Germany.”
