A Fantasy: When The Young Coed Needs This Instructor's Help
I can't help but notice the blazing blonde hair flowing halfway down her back, surrounding a face which initially confuses me. While she can give off the "I'm-so-fucking-bitching" attitude, I shortly assess she's actually a semi-innocent, cute, naive, and childlike -- yet knowingly flirtatious -- young woman, caring more about having fun in the moment than anything else.
Sitting in the front row ("Obviously a learning strategy she's picked up somewhere," I silently surmise, smiling to myself), her striking features and two-piece outfit scream for my attention. She's dressed perfectly for the warm autumn days at the beginning of the school year. The bottom of the thigh-length black floral print skirt flutters innocently in the ever-so-slight breeze passing through the room, but when she spins to take part in the ice-breaker I've planned, I notice how the top wraps tightly around her flawless waist around stays snug until where it just passes the point where her perfectly-defined buttcheeks take form. My subtle (yet well-trained) observation skills notice the slight rise of the intended-to-be-invisible top flare of her thong under that silken wrap surrounding her ass. "Hmmm," I think to myself, "lovely accentuation brought out by a comfortable -- and lovely -- skirt." As well, I notice the match: what looks like one of Daddy's lightweight white Oxford dress shirts. She has tied it off up just under her rack. And what a pair of gorgeous tits: They're tight, firm, and just a little larger than what might be expected on a girl her size. The only button she'd bothered to fasten was the unique gold-covered change Daddy must have made: the Playboy bunny emblem. Consequently, because the shirt is a tad too big, she affords me an amazing view of her right breast. When she turns, the consequence of not-yet removing all the starch causes the left side to lap open slightly, providing an unobstructed view of her nibble ring and a rush of blood to my easily engorged cock.
By reading and following up on her "beginning of the year" questionnaire, I discover that not only is she on the spirit squad; she's also one of the premier individual dancers in the state. Within days I learn that, in dance, she regularly wins competitions, showcasing her choreographic talent -- and her crushing tendency to unknowingly incite the distracted judges (both men and women) to lust after her.
As the semester progresses, I find I (almost) unknowingly schedule any needed walk through campus at the same times as her practice. Her perfectly trained ass gyrates to the sounds of the music which carries her into erotic ecstasy -- at least in my mind.
But it's in class where her magic continues to capture my imagination and fuel the fantasy. It is a game day just like any other, and she's there in that short skirt which easily gives way to her tight, pussy-outlining panties. It's as if she forgets she's wearing something so short, and lets herself spread those luscious powerful legs just a little too far. It's then I can barely contain the blood rushing to my member. Needless to say, this makes it difficult to conduct class, as she slides her ass toward the front of the chair, oblivious that she's giving me a peep show up her skirt. I find it hard to focus on the aesthetic consequences of Reductionism. My brain tries, but slips and stumbles. Ohh, that trimmed young beaver, barely covered by her panties.
I know all it would take: The class session ends, the other students file out considering the profound implications of what I'd presented that morning. Consequently, they're oblivious that she's remaining, overwhelmed. Their departure gives me the change-of-pace I need as I put away my notes, seeing the blur of faces exit the room.
At first, even I don't notice her still sitting exactly where and how she had been less than a minute prior, but it doesn't take long. I look up and see what I think is that look I've seen in the eyes of multiple struggling coeds like her before. But I'm wrong, and we are alone -- with nobody needing the room for over an hour.
Tucked behind those those seemingly sad liquid blue eyes is a question. She looks at the floor, or so it seems. "Professor, you... well... you know my grade in this class isn't so good, and well... I really need a good grade in here, and I'll do ANYTHING to raise it."
She slightly tilts her head, raises the corners of her mouth almost indiscernably and slowly works her eyes up my form to meet my eyes. Her smile nervously widens just a bit, and she works her eyes down my body, stopping at my crotch. "Anything," she repeats, and slowly opens her mouth. She pushes her tongue forward, stroking her upper lip and teeth, then runs it slowly around her lips. She is still sitting in the same desk, and she slides forward even further, the seat bottomâs friction holding her barely-covering skirt, which causes her tender crotch to move forward freely. To offset this movement, she arches her back, pushing her melons to the sky.
I waste no time thinking; the next position I know is my engorged, clothing-caged cock thrusting forward and my face buried between those milky white, beautifully conditioned inner thighs. It takes just a few seconds, and her panties' crotch becomes a rich, musky mixture of my saliva and her tender young womanhood. I nearly gasp in disbelief as my hands reach to grasp her rock-hard, panty-covered ass and find no material -- except the thin line running up her crack. My testicles quiver in pure desire to unleash the cum theyâre just barely holding back. Her head tilts back, letting that brilliant blonde hair fall back behind her. Her hands move in two directions: the right moves to the bottom of her sweater and begins to glide it upward, revealing those luscious, tight bra-less breasts my mouth has nuzzled many times in my private mental-fantasy moments before now. She slowly caresses her breasts, alternately pinching her nipples, which quickly become swollen and rock-hard. Her left hand pulls her skirt up to her waist, softly touching my hair ... face.... As I train my eyes on her, she briefly smiles and giggles, but her pleasure is too strong to remain distracted and she begins to let forth a deep growl as her hand slides to the point just above where my mouth meets her mounting moisture. The frothing frenzy mere microfibers from her rapidly spreading pussy lips call her fingers closeby. Her index and middle finger move deftly underneath to straddle her barely-covered clit and begin to rub in a way that tells me they are not strangers, but friends.
As she begins to writhe in the morning's growing heat, her position on the desk becomes unsteady, making me fear what would happen if the desk fell over, injuring one or both of us. As if she reads my mind, she grabs my head and pulls me over to the floor. This change of position reminds me of the raging hard-on I'm enjoying but wanting to free. Again, she arrives at the place before I can say anything. She scrambles frantically at my belt and pants, like she believes there won't be any treats in the bucket if she's not through the cage in 2.5 seconds. Before I can gasp in relief, my pants and underwear are strewn on the floor some ten feet away.
Now, my prize pupil is teaching me about the power of determination. She cups my shaved balls in her left hand and takes my entire cock into her mouth like it's her reward for staying after class and talking to teacher. As she works her way up and down on my thick engorged monster, her saliva runs over my balls. Her left hand slippery from the magical potion of saliva and her own cunt juice, she slides her fingers to my asshole and coaxes my anus to relax -- all the while rolling my stirring volcano in her right hand. She slows her pace, silently telling me there's so much more to cum. I smile in bliss. Slowly, she works her middle finger into my aching asshole. When she sees I'm about to blow my wad, she abruptly stops and slaps my mountain.
As I lay on my back, momentarily stunned, this powerful, flexible, sweet bitch swings around on her right leg, and in one unbelievable acrobatic flying move, removes her musky, moisture-laden panties, exposing the buried treasure I coaxed open moments earlier. This sight of the young coed some five feet from me, now bent over fingering her pussy, sends me over the edge. Once again, my crotch leads my bodyâs movement from where I am to where she is.
Hearing the charge of the rhinoceros, she spins around and stands straight up, asserting her power. I dip down, picking her up at the waist. As I begin to carry her, the sweater she is wearing slides over her head, fully releasing those amazing tits, so round, firm, and upright. Again, her nipples spring to attention. Once more standing on the floor in victory, she laughs, grabs my balls, and speaks for the first time since telling me she'll "do anything." "Come with me," she commands. We both laugh. I grab her skirt and pull it straight down.
As she hears it rip under the strain of moving past her rock-hard ass, she laughs again. "Fuck it. I've got four more of those in my room. Besides, it'll be fun giving the boys a show as I dance over to my room." She laughs again and tugs my nuts. While I'm bent over forward in shock, she jumps on my back like a kid on the playground. Laughing, she squeals, âGive me a ride!â Our intermingling sweat along with the added moisture of her sweet juices press on my lower back and I feel them trickling down my butt crack toward my balls. Before I can prepare myself, the dancer masterfully uses that same slickness to slide to the left. By instinct, I widen my stance, thrust my hips forward, throw my torso back, and bend at the knees in preparation to catch her. That adjustment causes her movement to increase. She spins around me like Iâm a stripperâs stage device, and sweeping her right hand below her, catches my joystick, effortlessly mounting and sliding her tight, hot, sweet cunt lips all the way down to my hips, while her slick canal envelopes my fleshy invader.
Wrapping her legs around my ass, she lays back in midair, her body parallel to the ground. All the while, she's squeezing her legs around me, taking full advantage of the ability to pull her body back and forth on my rigid tool. I lean back and claw at her ass, attempting to be a counterbalance to the soon-screaming and fully-thrashing wildwoman increasingly lost in the waves of orgasm as her body shudders under the weight of her head exploding in pleasure.
As she screams in ecstasy, her cum glides over my cock and balls, dripping off my scrotum. She momentarily relaxes, then quickly spins 90 degrees so that the top of her right foot catches behind my head and her left leg slides between my legs. Not only does this force my cock into an uncomfortable position, but she slowly begins to squeeze my balls between her legs. Reeling to take in this delicious pain and not fall over, I spread my toes, throw back my head, and moan deeply. Seizing the moment further, she flies headfirst for the big toe on my right foot while swinging her right hand around to take hold of my backside. In a split second, she simultaneously digs her razor red fingernails into my ass and forcefully bites down on the toe. All the while, she increases pressure on -- and in -- my aching balls.