Total Woman Legacy 01

Ned gazed upon the Swedish beauty convened with her parents in the family manor's living room. Lycka's admission application portfolio didn't do justice to her sky-blue eyes, high cheek bones and fair complexion. Seated prim and proper in a cushioned chair, she exuded youthful joie de vivre even as she attentively followed the adult conversations. The fashionable daywear skirt and blazer did little to mask her underlying well-built physique.

Her mother, Suzann, a Total Woman Academy alumnus, had dreamed of her two daughters following in her footsteps to a uniquely prosperous life. The older sister Lucia was already enrolled and progressing well at TWA, a few years ahead of Lycka. Lycka had been slower to demonstrate the scholastic prowess necessary to matriculate at the enigmatic institution. Her sister and mother took her aside, describing tangentially the benefits of attending TWA. Lycka took note and desired that future for herself.

Thus, in the last two semesters, her grades had improved spectacularly, from C's to A's. It was an unprecedented achievement at her father Frederick's alma mater, the Lulea University of Technology, particularly in a challenging degree like Mining and Material Processing.

Ned understood all too well the guiles and wiles of ambitious young coeds. He shrewdly assumed the grade advancement had involved private oral exams in professors' offices. Undoubtedly, Lycka could not participate in the traditional questions and answers intercourse with her mouth full of throbbing and erupting tenured cock. But the officially recorded grades had increased and here she was, preparing to enter TWA.

Ned held his own reassuring Question and Answer session with Frederick and Suzann, promising Lycka would arrive safe and sound at the TWA facility in America. The moment arrived and the parents held a tender and bittersweet goodbye with their precious offspring. Ned said his farewells and escorted Lycka out of her adolescent home and into his touring sedan for the first leg of their trek.

During the drive, Ned queried Lycka about her life path to this point. He listened to her sexy Swedish-accented English, as she told her stories of boys and toys, and other luxurious opportunities that her wealthy family life-style enabled. Ned's balls percolated to the tales of her adolescent sexual adventures.

They stopped for the evening, a full six hours into the drive, at Sundsvall. Ned checked them into the Hotell Södra Berget. It was too early for dinner so they enjoyed the sauna and spa, in typically open Scandinavian style. Lycka lay on the bench fully nude, eyes closed, breathing softly. Ned sat nearby, perusing her naked loveliness, sitting on one towel with another over his groin, a futile effort to shroud his obviously swollen manhood. Several hotel patrons entered, dwelled a spell and left the sauna as Lycka and Ned sweltered in the moist heat.

Despite the disruptions, Ned reaffirmed that Lycka's portfolio was an inadequate reflection of her feminine allure. Even drenched in sweat, Lycka's body was female perfection: round boobs capped with rose areolae, toned arms, legs and belly, a little residual blond patch above her mostly shaved plush pussy.

Back in the suite, Ned maintained his restraint, directing Lycka to preen and dress for dinner. Ned produced her evening apparel from his travelling valise: a red sequined cocktail dress, cut trim and close, custom-made to exhibit her curves. The TWA special tailor was a magnificent craftsman, using Lycka's application portfolio and its extensive inventory of body dimensions to prepare the perfectly sized piece de résistance. She wore her hair up, her cosmetics and jewelry setting off her angelic face. The dress stopped high on her thighs; the bodice covers were narrow, adequately covering her nipples but displaying generous bulges of lofted cleavage and side-boobs.

Dinner, served in the spacious hotel dining room, was simply delicious; a pot roast of venison meat and root vegetables. But Ned was more attracted to the chest meat seated across his cozy linen draped table. After dessert and cognac chasers, they returned to their overnight quarters.

Ned was finally alone with Lycka in the luxurious penthouse suite, with no more distractions on the immediate schedule. He could see in her blue eyes and white toothed smile that she was eager and willing to try anything he demanded. He demanded that she undress sensually to stoke his fire.

Upon hearing his demand, Lycka's cherry red lips smiled brighter. She was an inherent exhibitionist and loved showing off her seductive charms. She found a small sound system and set it to play a quiet chamber music melody that she could use to choreograph her striptease.

She stepped and pivoted slowly in her heels, turned her back to Ned as she slid the dress zipper down, allowing the sides to bloom open. Of course, with the cut of the dress, her smooth back was unspoiled by a non-existent bra strap; her spinal bumps formed an unending column that disappeared beyond the bottom of the open zipper. A ballet toe pivot brought her full frontal as she let the dress collapse around her waist. Ned mentally lauded again the perfection of her mammary orbs. She stretched her arms overhead, elevating the masses, and resumed her slithering dance steps, swaying her hips, shimmying her boobs, showing him her distinctive physique from all angles.

Faced forward again, she bent at the waist but retained eye contact, dangling her tits in sensual pendulums, as she pushed the dress over her hips and stepped out of the rumpled floor-borne bundle.

Her erotic performance did the trick, boosting his lust, swelling his manly desire. Ned had reached his limit of constraint; he stood and pushed her hastily onto the bed. She scuttled into missionary pose, still holding his gaze with hers. She watched as he hurriedly stripped out of his wool suit and its accoutrements.

Ned caressed and fondled her body, removed her panties, gathering kisses from her lips as he applied kisses elsewhere on her feminine erogenous zones. He left her nylons and heels intact as frills that could buff smoothly on his legs and ass. He climbed aboard, lined up and penetrated her cunt for the first time. She responded with caresses of his back, arms and thighs.

Ned stroked his swollen manhood deep in her core and too soon drenched her womb with his pent-up essence. It relieved his heat and tempered his passion, converting him back into the responsible coach tutor that his role required.

But Ned didn't want this to be an official scholastic examination. Rather than execute a TWA standard evaluation assessment, he left that fundamental carnal analysis for other TWA coach tutor staff at a later time. He kicked back and indulged his personal pleasure, repeatedly fueling her fires and dousing them with his fluids, in culmination of his own exhilaration.

He enjoyed more sexual releases through the night. She woke him once with a hand stroking his cock, offered oral sex. He demurred, promising to hook up with her later in her junior year, after she had been professionally trained and become proficient with deep-throat. Instead, he played with her seductive body, drove her passions and facilitated her whole body orgasms.

In the dim light of dawn, lying on his side facing her, he opened his eyes to find her sky blue eyes coolly watching him. She played peekaboo with the hem of the sheet, covering and uncovering her nose and red lipped toothy smile. He felt her leg inch up his inner thigh until it touched his semi-erection.

He took the hint, pulling down the sheet to uncover all of her buxom nude magnificence. Accepting her sensual invitation, he slithered atop her hospitable body once more and plowed deep, stroking leisurely and enjoying an incredibly wonderful morning orgasm.

The post-coitus garden tub bubble bath was a luxurious wallow, precipitating gentle touches and kisses; it felt good but led nowhere else. Later, his lust rekindled after the ensuite breakfast; they had one more hurried fuck for the road. Her youthful beauty and spritely ways prompted him to select a special outfit for her travel daywear, intended to show off her superficially innocent looks to the next TWA team.

Exhausted but contented, Ned drove the final leg of the land journey to Stockholm Skavsta Airport, peeking sideways repeatedly at an equally fucked out Lycka. She was seated beside him in a two-size too-small schoolgirl plaid skirt and white blouse getup. The receiving coach tutors would appreciate the subtle tease.

Ned delivered Lycka that evening to the TWA corporate jet. He introduced her to her next chaperone, Paul, TWA's corporate air fleet manager as well as a veteran TWA staff coach tutor. Lycka listened passively as Ned explained that Paul would accompany her on the flight and handle her first real evaluation assessment during the air travel to Florida.

Ned buzzed her cheeks goodbye. She turned away to follow Paul, a spin that flipped up her short pleated skirt, flashing her white thong. Ned couldn't resist, and she jumped, but meekly grinned back over her shoulder, when he smacked her barely covered ass with a farewell whack.

Paul chivalrously guided her aboard and, at cruising altitude, he personally stripped off Lycka's flirty travel costume for her impending tests. Lycka underwent a series of six-mile high evaluation assessments; first with Paul, then the co-pilot and the pilot. The dedicated flight team shared their daunting duties, taking successive turns during the 14-hour trans-Atlantic flight, refracting during their individual respites as Lycka endured the nearly nonstop trials.

The initial round invoked seated position in the cabin's executive lounge chairs whereupon the men could suckle and knead her tits as her luxurious pussy drained their embedded cocks. Second in the cue, the young co-pilot was a newer associate of the coach tutor staff and his latent gentile sensitivities still affected his grasp of professional responsibility. He was particularly enamored with Lycka's shapely beauty and her youthful enthusiasm. His ego needed her to validate his labors and he encouraged her to find her own ecstasy concurrent with his orgasm.

She met his goal, her shuddering tense body absorbing his potent outpouring. They slumped together as their emotions descended, hugging and cuddling in post climatic daze until he was summoned to the cockpit. Tagging out his young co-pilot with a high-five, the mature pilot picked up the evaluation assessment duties. He had witnessed how his second-in-command had gone easy on the transfer candidate.

Recalling the foibles of his own early coach tutor career, the pilot recognized the unconscious affection that alluring Lycka had generated in the rookie coach tutor. He was not as gullible as the comparative youngster, remaining almost quiescent in the laid back lounge. He lazed in position, chewing on her stiffened nipples, having commanded Lycka to twerk her pussy vigorously on his embedded erection until she made him cum.

The second round was slower in sequence and more freestyle, allowing Lycka to sustain her energies through the mounting fatigue of her near continuous sex over the many past hours. Still, Lycka gave her finest efforts throughout. Allowed the relative rest of missionary position, the men discharged the stroking functions. She also provided tit-jobs and hand-jobs on demand.

Taxiing to the private terminal at Tampa Executive Airport, the weary elite alpha males unanimously concurred; Lycka was truly qualified to enter TWA as a coed junior. Redressed in her flirty schoolgirl costume, Paul handed Lycka over to Karl, her next designated TWA staff coach tutor, for the limousine ride to the secluded regional campus.

He guided her to the backseat of the town car and bade her to get comfortable for the long ride ahead. Karl took the wheel and drove the distance to Lycka's new home away from home. He watched in the rearview mirror as she slumped over and fell fast asleep, her energies temporarily depleted during the first jaunt in her destined quest to become a TWA coed and likely Total Woman Academy graduate.