If this story pleases you, send me an encouraging email and I will continue the storyline. This is a work of original fiction. Do not copy it or use it without the express written permission of the author. Enjoy. – moreau
I. Student Olivia reviews her blowjob homework
“So tell me, Olivia, did you play ‘I want you to’ with Jeffrey, yes or no?”
Two months earlier, my 26 year-old former high school student, Olivia De La Cruz, had paid me a visit under the pretense of soliciting guidance on her master’s thesis. With her tanned skin, great mane of dark brown hair, full sensual lips, and impossibly high breasts, Olivia was a full-fledged Philippina vixen who had really come to solicit sex hints to please her boyfriend, Jeffrey. I introduced her to the game of “I want you to…” and she introduced me to my most memorable blowjob [read “The Blowjob Lesson].
When she had called and insisted on coming over “to talk,” I had no expectation other than to try to convince her to reveal some details about her relationship with Jeffrey. I figured that the mind-shattering blowjob she gave me was a one-shot deal. But let’s face it. The next best thing to having sex with a Philippina hottie is hearing her describe her sex life is full Technicolor detail.
“We are a lot happier now, and I owe it all to you, Peter.”
“Tell me about it, Olivia.”
“He loved the game. You won’t believe this,” she began, “but when I took off my pants and knelt in front of him, his eyes almost fell out of his head. You were right about doing it in front of mirrors. I’d look at him and he’d be, like, checking me out in the reflection.”
“Did he tell you what he wanted you to do?” I asked.
“Oh yes, just like you said he would, but he stopped saying ‘I want you to’ pretty fast and just started moaning,” Olivia added.
“You mean when you took off your pants and were kneeling in front of him in your black thong, he just started moaning spontaneously?”
“No silly,” Olivia laughed, giving my shoulder a playful slap, “I was doing something else at the time.”
We had reached the tension point in our conversation where I needed to push Olivia past the G-rated conversation and into the adults-only talk. I flashed back to her sitting in my Junior Honors English class, a slender and proportioned Philippina girl with pouty lips, legs demurely crossed under her desk, brown cat-like eyes looking up at me in high expectations as I was about to return her A+ research paper on “Sex and the Media Influences on Teenage Girl Self-Image.” I had always wondered if the racy pictures she included as part of her research paper were intended to turn me on or shock me. Now, we were getting ready to jump a taboo barrier between teacher and student for a second time.
“So just what were you doing that Jeffrey lost the power of speech?”
“Well, I was rubbing him…” Olivia started.
I interrupted her, “You mean, you were rubbing his cock.”
“Yes, I was rubbing his cock,” Olivia restarted, “more like, I was bobbing up and down on his cock, and what I couldn’t get in my mouth, I was rubbing that part, and I did something you didn’t tell me to do.”
“And that was?”
“I had just the tip, you know, the head of his penis in my mouth, and I rubbed the sides of it fast back and forth with both my palms…”
“Like you were a girl scout trying to start a fire?”
“Well, yes.”
“That’s a massage technique called the ‘Firestarter.’ Where’d you learn it?”
“I dunno, but Jeffrey looked down at me and I looked right back up at him with the tip of his cock in my mouth, that’s when he, like, looked up at the ceiling and said “Oh my God!”
“Did that let you know he was cumming?” I asked, perspiring now as this vixen confided in me details of her sucking off her boyfriend in the most innocent, matter-of-fact tone.
“He never came in my mouth before, but I kinda new something was about to happen. So I rubbed his balls again, then they like, tightened up, but I pulled off his cock and stopped sucking him.”
“Why on earth did you stop?”
“Well, when you and I had our lesson, you said ‘Look up at him and say something really nasty and he’d really enjoy that.’”
“So you did what I said.”
“When I stopped sucking him, he looked down at me, like, ‘Why’d you stop?’ and I said the nastiest thing I could think of.” Olivia paused.
“Okay, we’re grown-ups here, what were the magic words?”
“I said, ‘Jeffrey, I want you fuck my mouth hard and cum in it,’ and like, I barely had time to get my lips on his cock and he came like crazy.”
The picture burned in my mind was this long-legged Philippina girl wearing only a black thong and on her knees, begging her boyfriend to cum in her mouth, in fact saying “Fuck my mouth” and him exploding like a cum cannon. What could I say to keep my cool?
“How’d it taste?”
“He just kept squirting his semen so many times. A lot went in my mouth at first and I tried to swallow it, so I took his cock out of my mouth and pumped it fast. I put out my tongue and some hit it but also landed on my cheek, my forehead. It went everywhere but I was smiling. Jeffrey kept saying “oh yes, yes, you are so—o-o-o-o nasty,” and he even grabbed his own cock and pumped it for me, so I just stuck my tongue out with my mouth open so he could cum on my tongue.”
“And it tasted…”
“Well, hot, definitely yummy and thick and not salty at all. I had been feeding Jeffrey pineapple and orange for a week like you suggested, and I really enjoyed the taste.”
“You enjoyed it?”
“Yeah, a lot,” Olivia answered without hesitation and flashing a great, dimpled smile at me. I sensed that she and Jeffrey had played the game more than once.
II. Olivia’s Lesson in Massage Begins
“Good girl,” I said, resuming my role as the teacher. I patted her knee – we were sitting very close in a couple of swivel office chairs – and Olivia swiveled and our knees bumped slightly. “You deserve a foot rub for doing such a good job on Jeffrey,” I added, and she smiled at me, pleased that our lesson had paid off. I lifted her leg at the calf, resting her heel on my thigh.
“Oh goody-goody,” Olivia said, flexing her foot and pointing her toes, “I’ve never had the foot job.”
“You mean Jeffrey’s never massaged your foot before?” I said somewhat incredulously.
“Let’s move these closer,” Olivia said, reaching for the arms of my chair to draw me closer. Her foot naturally slid forward but down at the same time ending up firmly in my crotch. She flexed her foot against my crotch and said “Oops,” but I was not very convinced of this accidental slip. Olivia looked plainly at my crotch and we both knew my erection was visibly straining the front of my jeans.
“Let’s not be naughty,” I warned, lifting her left foot by the heel and replacing it on my thigh so I could begin her foot massage.
As I alternately pressed my thumbs into the ball of her foot and kneaded up and down the middle of her foot, Olivia grinned, closed her eyes, then said “Oh boy oh boy.” I pressed each of her toes firmly and held on, working each toe according to Olivia’s facial expression and breath intake since she had stopped speaking. I knew that the foot massage would put her to sleep, and I didn’t want that. I stopped.
“Don’t you guys give each other massages?” I asked.
Her eyes opened dreamily. “Don’t stop Peter.”
“Answer me.”
“Well, I’ll rub his back or neck a little, but he’s not too good on the massage stuffs. Peter, where’d you learn about rubbing my foot so well?”
“Maybe you should read a book on massage and practice with Jeffrey,” I suggested.
“But I’m here now, couldn’t you give me some practice pointers?”
“No Olivia, you and Jeffrey will just have to risk serious injury and learn through trial and error.”
“Okay Peter, I didn’t want to do this, but you’ve forced me,” Olivia said,
“I want you to show me how to give and receive a massage.”
The effect of Olivia’s words were like Ali Baba saying “Open Sesame” at the secret entrance of the 40 thieves’ hideout. By invoking our game of “I want you to,” my student was demanding that I provide her another lesson, a demand I couldn’t refuse.
We marched into my bedroom and I threw the comforter completely off the bed, leaving the warm, green flannel sheets as our massage table. Olivia brought her backpack with her into the room and dropped it next to the bed. She looked around the room and examined some framed vacation pictures of me. “Man, Peter, you have some major muscles there,” Olivia remarked at my picture where I was wearing an athletic shirt in front of some broken statue in Rome.
I lay down on my stomach and slowly scissored my legs, alternately flexing and pointing my toes.
“Jeffrey,” I said in a falsetto, “would you be a sweetie and give my back a little rubbie-dubbie?” I was laying directly across from the nice, wide dresser mirror that showed all the action taking place on the bed.
“Oh, you’re going to play me, I get it,” Olivia chimed in. “Sure babeeeeeeeee, spread ‘em,” she ordered in a fake low voice. She climbed on the bed and slapped my butt fairly hard. “Wow, your butt is like a rock.”
“Look,” I said, “If you’re going to be Jeffrey, do you really think you’re flattering me by saying my butt’s like a rock?”
“Oops,” she giggled, “back when I was your student, I always wondered what was going on under your school clothes. You were my cutest teacher.”
Olivia’s confession was not going to trigger a similar one from me.
“Oh, Jeffrey,” I continued, “how long are you gonna keep a horny Philippina girl waiting?”
I watched in the mirror as Olivia straddled my hips. She rested her hands on the middle of my back, then started kneading half-heartedly and without rhythm. Olivia may have been the worst masseuse in the world.
“Peter, how am I going to learn massage techniques when you know them, but I’m the one rubbing
