It's about 7:45 in the evening, and I've been stuck here in the college library, helping students with their research for the past 9 hours. I've not had a break since 4. Absolute exhaustion has taken over, but the thought of your tender hands on my shoulders, your hot breath on the nape of my neck, sends a tingling thrill right through my very core. I have to wait though. I have to wait for another hour before I can see you. I imagine your lips brushing against my ear, your tongue softly flicking, caressing the lobe, teasing me with possibility. My breasts are tender and heavy, the nipples hard as stone. I'm glad I'm wearing a bit of padding in my bra; otherwise, I'd be on full display in front of a bunch of horny 19 year-olds.
I have to escape, if only for a moment, to the rear of the library. I have to touch myself, make myself come, hard and fast. The thought of you on me, in me, around me, makes me sticky and hot. There's a quiet study area that's not being occupied right now, so I tiptoe my way past my students, just as they seem so focused, and I hope, oh, I hope, they're not inclined to seek me out.
As I reach the quiet corner of the library, one of my hands is already slipping down the front of my skirt, my fingers sliding along the lacy elastic of my soaking wet panties. I am panting like mad as my fingers trace the line of the elastic that curves tightly around the crease of my thigh and traps my sopping pussy. I know if I give myself the slightest bit of pressure, the tiniest touch to my throbbing clit, I will explode. I can't rush it, even if I may be needed at any point, even if a student happens to wander in the back and catch me in the act of touching myself. I want to wait for you, but it's getting to the point where I simply cannot wait.
Suddenly, I feel a strong hand covering mine, stroking my fingers, lacing firm fingers between my own. The hand encourages my own to move on and guides mine to slide underneath the elastic line, and I feel hot, moist, plush lips on the back of my neck. Another hand brushes my hair away. Teeth grate softly against my neck, nipping gently. I want to turn around, but an arm snakes around and grasps me tightly, snugly around my belly.
"Don't move," you whisper in my ear. Your voice is husky, heated, and at that moment, I think you've been in the library all of this time, watching me from somewhere. I reach with my free hand behind me to stroke your engorged prick through your trousers. I love your cock. I've always loved it. It's thick, curved and solid. It swells perfectly in my mouth when I suck it. The head is softly silky and becomes a taut, swollen morsel between my lips when you're ready to come. Your body tightens, and you gasp and moan, and I can feel your body climax as your semen fills my mouth. I love it when I can make you do that.
