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| Blogs > yorkiechai > My Blog |
Conclusion of Hot Stuff
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Conclusion of Hot Stuff It took no more encouragement on my part for K to perch lightly on my lap - she was a much smaller woman with an almost boy-like figure - and to cup me again with her cool hands, bouncing my breasts a few times before bending forward and taking a nipple firmly between her teeth. It was an ecstacy I will never forget - an ecstacy that burned itself into each of my cells - as she alternated between biting at my nipple with her teeth and sucking so that it was as erect as I had ever seen it. Then she switched to the other breast that she had been stroking with her cool hand and nuzzled that nipple with her soft lips. Even as I was groaning softly, on the periphery of my awareness I was recalling that in the middle of the afternoon, as this was, practically each of member of our post-graduate program was in their dorm room and that, in addition to the fact that there was virtually no sound proofing between rooms, I couldn't recall K locking the door behind her as she entered. With a quick knock, and no wait for permission, anyone of the other students in my cohort could burst into my room unexpectedly. Perhaps it was this potential for exhibitionism that heightened my sexual arousal as I've never shied from public displays, not just of affection, but of blatant rubbing, grinding, or sucking with the slight danger of discovery or observation. And so, rather than, metaphorically, reining things in, I ran, rather than walked, right into that maelstrom of sexual energy. Pushing K back slightly so my breast popped noisily from her mouth, I smiled and reached up under her tee shirt. Not surprisingly, she was not wearing a bra and I, in turn, stroked and circled the almost pre-pubescent mounds that were her breasts, then reached for the hem of that shirt and pulled it off over her head. Staring me in the face like the wrong end of a gun were the darkest, largest nipples I had ever seen on a caucasian woman. K had small girl-like breasts, true, but they were almost all nipple: a dark, shimmering milk chocolate aureola topped with a beautiful firm nub of erect almost mahogany coloured nipple. I'm sure I looked surprised as K leaned back a bit on my knees, cupped her own breasts, and murmured an apology of sorts that I quickly silenced by kissing each breast and then beginning to lick those nipples, ending, as she had with me, by firmly and energetically sucking each in turn. She tasted of sweat and sweetness. Of course, things progressed from breasts, and, as I was in the chair, she sitting on me, I easily slipped my hands under the elastic waistband of her shorts and grabbed her ass, stroking and squeezing the firm, round buttocks and dancing the tips of my fingers over her asshole until she sighed with enjoyment. K moved to do the same with my shorts, but I stopped her. How much more delicious is prolonging each step toward sexual ecstacy than an immediate sating. While K stood and removed her shorts so that she stood before me completely naked, I merely undid the zipper of mine - they were skin tight denim cutoffs - and then reached down to part my labia with my fingers and my erect and juicy clit nudged out, barely visible between the open fly of my shorts and haloed by the light pubic hair of my<b> bush. </font></b>She knelt as I spread my legs wide, resting them on the arms of the desk chair, and slowly began to flick my clit with her tongue. I could feel the swell of warm juice running down between my labia, pooling at the entrance to my vagina, and her tongue following that juice, constricting my tight jean shorts even further so that my pussy lips bulged out on either side of the denim seam. For K, sucking and pulling on my clit with her mouth, as much as I was moaning and writhing in pleasure, wasn't enough and she slipped a finger between the crotch of my shorts and my vagina, barely able to stroke because of the tight shorts and my sex engorged pussy. But stroke she did and I could see my slick cunt lips bulging out on either side of the oh so tight denim seam between my legs. So close I was, so close to that sweet pinnacle of orgasm when it happened. That quick knock on the door I had potentially anticipated, and a gust of cooler air swept in, followed by, of course, the one male colleague in my cohort with whom I had been caught up in a mad infatuation. The look on his face told the complete story as he took in the sight of K, naked, crouched in front of me, and me, bare-breasted, legs akimbo in my desk chair, the glisten of cunt juice darkening the crotch of my barely on shorts, and the expressions on our faces that told how close to the brink of orgasm each of us was. Without a word, he stepped inside my room, closed the door, and clicked the lock securely shut. |
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that was delightful.
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(engendering pair-shaped thoughts)...
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A wonderful imagination
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