by Alexis Angel
You’re moaning hard and your body is shaking; even so, I don’t stop. Instead, I take one finger and press it right on top of your clit, my mouth focused on your labia. My tongue starts to jab at your insides with vicious strokes, matching the pace of my finger. You’re still at pleasure’s peak, but I’ll make that peak grow and grow. That’s how I go about it, baby - I’ll make you ride the crest of a wave that doesn’t stop reaching towards the heavens.
And then that waves crashes. And you scream... You scream very hard. Oh, I love to hear your voice like this, high and quivering as pleasure rages through you. It’s the sweetest sound I have ever heard.
Thrusting your hips at me, you hold me in place with your hands on my hair and your legs tied around my neck. You come violently, my tongue still jabbing at you at a frenetic pace. You keep holding me tightly until your body stops shaking, and only then do you loosen your grip. Slowly, I pull back out, your hands falling to my sides as you try to catch my breath. I lean over you and, then, my lips are on yours, the scent of your own pussy inundating you… Doesn’t it feel good to taste your flavor on my lips? You’re delicious, and you ought to know it.
One look at you, and I just know you’re ready to go again.
You place your hands on my cheeks, pulling me into you as we kiss; you open your legs wider, lacing them on my lower back, and prop yourself back up on your elbows. One of your hands fall from my face and you slide it down my chest towards the hem of my suit pants; you unbutton them with just one hand, each flick of your fingers making my cock even harder.
It’s mine, your hands seem to say as you press your fingers over my boxer briefs against my cock. You wrap them around my thickness, and it pulses with raw energy. It begs to be set free, and that’s exactly what you do.
With your other hand, you grab on my pants and send them down my legs; you do the same with my underwear, my cock flying straight into your hand like a thick heavy bat. You grab it, its warmness spreading to your fingers fingers.
I kick off my shoes to the corner of the office, stepping out of my pants in a hurry. You sit up on the desk, your eyes widening as you take in the sight of my naked body in front of you. Yes, baby, I’m all yours.
You bite your lower lip, locking eyes with me, and push me back with as much strength as you can. I take two steps back as you climb down from the desk and walk towards me. With your lips still curled into a grin, you lean into me and kiss my neck, your lips brushing down to my firm pectorals. You keep kissing me, going down to your knees as you do it; your tongue traces the outline of my abs, my muscles brimming with lust and testosterone. When your kneecaps touch the carpet, your fingers are already tightening around the base of my cock. You look up at me and, my eyes never leaving yours, you let your tongue part your lips and gently flick it at my glans.
I grins at you, desire stamped on my face. Fuck, I want you so much you have no idea.
Opening your mouth, you wrap your lips around my tip and then gently pull back out. You do it again and again, tracing the whole length of my shaft with your index finger. I tremble slightly and, the moment I do it, you lunge forward, opening your mouth wide and sliding my shaft deep over your tongue.
Before I even have the time to exhale, you start bobbing your head, my cock sliding in and out of your mouth at breakneck speed. I don’t know how you do it so perfectly, but I never had someone doing it like you.
You pull my cock out for a few seconds and, during that small moment, you stroke me as fast as you can, your fist flying over from the tip to the root. Then, when your hand is going down my shaft, you lean forwards again and take me in your mouth, sucking and stroking in a pendulum motion.
I start to thrust too, my hands on top of your head. You let go of my cock, placing both your hands on my round ass, and allow me to match the rhythm of your mouth. My thrusts grow wilder, as if I’m not fucking your mouth but your pussy. Fuck, just thinking of that is enough for my heart to send a special order of lustful blood to my already rock-hard cock. I can’t fucking wait to be inside of you.
You lean back, my cock sliding out of your mouth with a loud pop, and stand up. I don’t give you the time to do anything else - I grab you by the arms, pushing you back. Blindly, I guide you until your back is against the glass door that leads out of my office and into balcony. The cold glass makes your skin prickle, a perfect antithesis to the wildfire raging in your pussy.
“I want to fuck you so bad,” I whisper, my mouth against your ear. The sound of my own voice makes me even more delirious, the need to be inside of you making my mind burn.
You open your mouth to speak, but I already know what you’re going to say. Without giving you the time, I place my hands under your ass and lift you up; you react by instinct, crossing your legs over my ass as I pull you against my chest. Holding you against the glass with only one hand, I grab my cock and guide its tip towards your pussy. You close your eyes and shiver, feeling my fat head straining against your folds. Inch by inch I lower you over my cock, the massive shaft rolling inside of you as your inner walls strain to accommodate me. You feel so fucking tight… Fuck, I knew it would be good to be inside of you, but I didn’t expect it to be this fucking good. Could you be even more perfect, baby?
You moan hard as my cock goes as deep as possible, your labia brushing against my root. Slowly, I pull back out, drawing more soft and honeyed moans out of you. I do it once again, sliding deep inside of you and then back out again, but by the third time you’re already rocking your hips, jumping hard against my length. We go like this until time stops making sense, the sound of your back hitting the glass over and over again the only thing that my brain is capable of processing.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound pulls me deeper into an ocean of pleasure, the constant pounding of my cock dragging me all the way down.
Thump, thump, thump.
It grows louder, and an image of the glass shattering crosses my mind. I don’t care. I’m way past caring about anything right now. Ecstasy is coating my brain, sweetening all of my thoughts and washing over my body.
Swear to God, Cheryl, I never had a woman that made me feel like this. My life up to this moment feels like a fucking waste.
I up the pace frenetically, both my hands on your ass as I slam my cock viciously at you. The sound of flesh on flesh meshes with the sound of your body hitting the glass, but by now I’m already deaf to the world. And, with my eyes closed shut, I’m also blind. I feel your body tensing up, the electricity of pleasure pooling on your muscles and preparing you for a climax so fierce and hell bent on conquering you through and through. Your body is a vessel for pleasure - nothing more, nothing less.
Your fingernails are like knives on my back, burying themselves on my skin so hard you might draw blood. Then, one hard thrust from me and you let go of me, your whole body shaking. You place both your arms against the glass, by the side of your body, as your pussy tightens like a vice around my girth.
“Fuck,” I hiss through gritted teeth, your cry of pleasure following my words immediately after. You press your arms against the glass firmly, your whole body trembling and shaking with pleasure. I can almost feel your brain melting in ecstasy, bright flashes of light behind your eyelids. “Yes, come for me, baby…” I say, my voice firm and steady as I feel your muscles spasming, stabbed by that intense and wild pleasure.
You scream until your throat starts to hurt, and then you scream some more - it’s pleasure turning into sound.
I put you down then, your trembling legs struggling to keep you up on your feet. I grab you by the waist and, with a sudden movement, make you turn around. I push you against the wall, your hands instinctively hitting it at shoulder-height.
I smile at you, that hunger for your body shining at the corner of my lips. You close your eyes again, surrendering to how it feels to have my naked body pressed against yours.
You shiver as I place my hands on your waist, pulling your ass into me. My shaft nestled betwee
n your ass cheeks, you start rocking your body in a flowing motion, stroking my cock with just your crack. You do it slowly, each time your body moves the absolute definition of perfection. As you up the rhythm, my breathing grows harsher and, soon enough, I’m almost growling in anticipation.
“I’m going to make you cum so hard you won’t even know your name when I’m done,” I tell you, the words coming out of my mouth with the authority of a man that always gets what he wants.
You breathe in harshly, the cool air of the room filling your lungs as I grabs my cock and press it under your ass, my glans snuggled between your labia. You go on your tiptoes and then lower yourself again, the tip of my cock once more inside of you.
This time there's no subtlety about what we're doing. We're going hard and violently, each thrust of mine a maddening stroke charged with divine electricity. We are fucking, and we are doing it as hard as we can, my thighs slapping your ass over and over again.
I don't even know if I can endure the kind of pleasure that’s going to take over me once I cum, but I don't give a fuck about it. Even if I die from pleasure, it’s going to be totally worth it - to spend my last moments with a woman like you… I’d call myself a lucky man.
My cock pulses hard inside your pussy - I’m already dancing on the edge of climax, but you don’t stop me. You’re on the edge as well, and each thrust of mine pushes you closer to it.
I wanted to fuck you hard, and that’s exactly what I’m doing now. How could I do it otherwise with a woman such as you?
One final thrust and my train of thought stops. You explode, moaning hardly through gritted teeth; I feel you summoning all of your strength to remain standing up, your legs threatening to buck under your weight as your body trembles in ecstasy.
One second after and I jump after you down into the abyss of pleasure, my cock spasming violently inside of you. In a fraction of a second, I’m coating your insides with my warm cum. You sway your ass softly as I gush my load inside of you, an almost never-ending stream of semen filling you up to the brim. When my cock stops shooting, I pull back slowly, strands of semen dripping down your pussy and descending towards your legs.
You turn to me, smiling lazily. Fuck, I can’t even think straight right now.
“Perfect,” I tell you, “that’s what you are.”
I grin, pulling you into my embrace. You let me put my arms around you and, tilting my head to the side, I press my lips against yours. We kiss softly, both our bodies still reeling from a thunderous orgasm.
I don’t know what got into me, but I just lost all control. You’re not only easy in the eyes, you know how to drive a man completely insane. I’ve been through my fair share of women, but I never met one like you.
Fuck, I can’t wait to go another round with you.
You still rolling your eyes, Cheryl?
Buyer’s Market
Description
All my life, women have tried to sell themselves to me.
No surprise. I’m rich. Handsome. Successful. Master of the Universe.
That is, until I meet Emmaline Travers.
Her body is for sale. But there’s a look in her eyes.
It tells me…Let the Buyer Beware.
I know though that I’ll pay any price for her. And once I do, I’ll defile that tight body of hers as I do ungodly things to it.
I’ll push her up against the wall. Rip the clothes off her hot little body.
Grab that luscious heart shaped @$$ and smack it as I ride her into paradise.
But is the cost too high?
Everything is for sale, but will buying her bankrupt me?
If it comes to it, that’s how far I’m willing to go then to own her everlasting love.
I’m willing to sell my eternal soul.
Emmaline
“You can’t trust an academic website to tell you what you need to know about your professor!” Delia says, swinging the hand off her hip to grab my laptop. She snatches it and sits next to me on my bed.
“What?” I raise my hands and cock my head to the side, getting sassy about her just grabbing my laptop.
Delia raises her eyebrows until her forehead crinkles. She’s bringing as much sass as I am today. “You have to Google that shit, Facebook stalk, etc.,” Delia lifts a hand up from her frantic typing and waves her hand. “Otherwise you’re not going to find the real deal — and I hear there are some real treasures at our school, if ya know what I mean,” Delia says, waggling her eyebrows.
“That’s … well,” I don’t really know what to say back to that. I knew that Delia had plenty of boyfriends since I’d known her, but I wasn’t so sure that I would ever consider the teachers part of the dating pool. I started thinking about how weird it would be. I mean, staying up to date on reading is hard enough, how would you date someone who knew you stayed up too late in the library getting more sources for your latest paper? Weird. Not that I knew what to do with a normal boyfriend. That’s why I’m boyfriend-less and pretty much cool with it. Delia does not make me jealous with the fools she messes around with anyway.
Delia’s eyes go wide. “Wow, he’s fine as hell. And I bet if he reads poetry and shit, well that’s bound to give you a lady boner—“
I can’t let her finish, and I grab my computer back. We were supposed to be going over our schedules to find out details about our classes, and see what teachers were like as far as grading went. “Oh my God!” Delia makes everything about sex sometimes, but then I look at the screen.
Delia is right, though. Professor Ethan Wesley. I don’t think I’ve ever imagined anything more attractive than that man sitting at the edge of a desk and reading poetry. I think I'm actually getting a little wet at the idea. If I tell Delia she’ll never let me live it down, but I mean, she’s my friend so I have to give her something. “Well, actually, he’s …” I have no idea what to say.
“He’s fucking fine as hell, and girl your face is bright red. I guess old guys are your type. I don’t blame you, not with this man,” Delia says laughing.
I realize where I recognize that name. My freshman year my mom told me about him, said she had an old friend who worked at the school and said maybe I’d take some of his classes. Oh God.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Delia says. She shuts my laptop and holds my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Too hot for you, babe?”
I laugh nervously and squeeze her hand back. I think I’m actually sweating a little bit. “Umm, yeah, he’s hot. He was my mom’s friend though so that’s super weird. I mean, he’s already my teacher … and my mom’s friend … so it's weird that he’s hot but like—“
“Damn, girl, you got it bad!” Delia stands up and grabs her sunglasses and heads for the door. “I’ll leave you alone for some Googling. Use your birthday present! I’ll lock the door,” she finishes with a whisper. “Coffee, tomorrow, and tell me how many times you came,” Delia says, waggling her eyebrows at me and shooting finger guns.
“Delia, Jesus girl,” I say, exasperated. But the truth is … I'm going to dig around on the Internet and find out whatever I can about my professor. His face is like permanently burned into my brain right now and I can’t think of anything else. “I’ll give you the full dossier, cross my heart,” I say, drawing an x over my heart.
Delia winks, and then slides her glasses down over her eyes and heads out the door. I hear the click of the lock, and I head for the nightstand drawer. I slide down my joggers and my panties. I tell myself, I won’t go overboard, because I did actually plan to go for a quick run around campus before classes start up again and I’m thinking about more readings and papers. But I can already tell by how my pussy is aching that I might wear myself out in a minute just looking at pictures of him on the Internet.
This is by far the most inappropriate thing I’ve ever done in my life — leave it to Delia — but I mean, masturbating while thinking about your professor, that’s harmless. It's just a fantasy. I mean, when I see him and he’s my teacher, I�
��m sure I’ll feel totally different.
Maybe he just photographs well. Because why would my mom just be friends with him, if he’s that good looking?
Okay, that’s the sort of weird thought that could really kill the vibe before I even twist my vibe to turn it on.
My curiosity leads me to read a professional biography, and he’s published about basically every author I have loved, ever. I gasp, kind of shocked, but that turns me on as much as looking at his face. He wrote about Mary Shelley, my favorite author, on several occasions. For a few seconds, I think I might read those papers with the online library access the university has, but my twitching clit urges me to look at more pictures.
It isn’t long before I find him on a Forbes list.
Whoa!
So, Dr. Wesley doesn’t need to teach at all. He’s been in school more years than I’ve been alive, and he’s loaded. He ran a publishing firm for many years, and he owns a media conglomerate. He teaches, according to the article with the pictures, because that’s his true passion.
The shots of him holding leather bounds, or the one where he’s got both of his palms flat on a desk—God, I can’t turn that vibrator on fast enough.
I’m even going to tell Delia the answer at coffee tomorrow.
Four.
That’s how many times I cum just looking at these pictures of him. I stop when I realize that my whole dorm room smells like sex and I probably want it to air out before my roommate gets back tomorrow. I read more about him, and my heart is racing. He’s what I might build if I actually wanted a boyfriend … but not now. I’d need 10 or 20 years to be even worth his attention.
I sigh.
But that’s what a fantasy is for, right? I mean, there’s no way that he can be anything more than a fantasy. A teacher crush that I get over when I’m done with my course load. Though, majoring in English, I'm actually going to be taking a lot of classes that I know now that only he teaches. I gulp. I never should've done this. I could have just enjoyed the class but I let Delia put naughty thoughts in my head!
