Campus Tour Ch 01

Her words were a blur.

She loved her school no doubts there. She was enthusiastic, energetic. Especially her mouth. I've heard the terms and conditions of a car-lease deal on the radio spoken more slowly. As we walked through the quad and in and out of the various campus buildings, her guided tour went non-stop at what seemed like 200 words-per-minute.

She was also perky. Especially her torso. For some reason, on this sweltering, mid-July day, she chose a long-sleeved, button-up oxford-style shirt. While the cuffs were buttoned at her slender wrists, the top three buttons of the shirt were not, exposing a lot of her pale, unblemished chest and making it pretty obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

We were all getting a bit of a sheen in the summer heat as we walked the quad, only to enter a building and feel the bracing chill of the over-cranked AC. The gross feeling of your sweat freezing to your body a small price to pay to enjoy witnessing our guide's deep-red nipples straining to poke through the thin, off-white fabric of her pin-striped top. The moisture giving the shirt more transparent properties than she maybe realized or wanted. But I was enjoying every minute of it.

This school was just one of many stops I was taking my daughter to this summer as she attempted to find the right university for her to attend after graduation. With her straight-As and high test scores and my wife's extraordinary salary, almost no school was out of bounds and with no parameters in her search, we hoped these tours would help her winnow the list into something manageable.

It had been a bit of a slog—so many of the campuses look the same—but now finally something on one of these tours for me. A cute, dishwater-blonde co-ed, inadvertently giving this middle-aged perv a bit of a show. While outside, my sunglasses allowed for me to be more overt in shifting my position in front of her in order to see as much as I could of her perfect breasts. They weren't large, but I could see no evidence of droop whatsoever. I had to concentrate to ensure I did not give myself an erection as I gazed.

Inside and without my sunglasses on, I had to be a bit more suave about my leering. Waiting for moments when her eye contact was with other students or pointing out various items in each room we visited in order to steal glances. Each time we went inside and escaped the heat, her nipples would also try to escape. In spite of the debilitating heat, I was getting charged up.

Her speed-talking was just white noise, a convenient distraction for my daughter so she wouldn't notice her dad ogling a potential peer. I wasn't listening to a word of it.

The tour ended and we sat in the waiting room of the admission office to await my daughter's interview. As she was called in to the office, I got up and walked around the corner to the drinking fountain— and inadvertently bumped into our guide. The collision wasn't hard, but enough to knock us each back a bit.

"I'm so sorry," I offered.

"Pardon me. I never can seem to slow down," she replied collecting herself.

"You did cram a lot of information in on that tour. Have you always been a fast talker?"

"Yes, although I wish I wasn't," she explained. "I try to be conscientious about it, but then when I get into the talk, I forget and once I get going ..."

I think she kept on talking but admittedly her nipples were again making an appearance and again, I was losing focus on anything from her that wasn't below the neck.

"... I see I still have some of your attention."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You don't have to apologize." The timbre of her voice changed from enthusiastic student to sultry, wonton mistress. "I liked it. You stealing glances at me during the tour."

"Perhaps I'd like to steal more than just a glance." Did I just say that? Am I flirting with a university co-ed? I certainly never did when I was a student.

She paused for a moment, then asked, "Where's your daughter?"

"In her interview."

"Huh. Are you handy with plumbing? There's an issue in the bathroom I'd like to show you ..."

Her voice trailed off as she casually walked back toward the water fountain and into the single-person, unisex bathroom. I attempted to be casual as I followed her in. As soon as I did, she all-but slammed the door shut behind me and locked it.

"We don't have much time until your daughter's done," she said purposefully while shimmying out of her shorts, "so you'll have to help me with my shirt."

I stood frozen watching her body move as fast as mouth did earlier.

"Come on then. It's not like you haven't been fantasizing about what's underneath all morning."

From cheerleading tour guide to horny co-ed to all-business in moments. She was right of course. This was clearly a school for the smartest of students.

Feigning confidence as if I'd been here before, I moved forward and began unbuttoning, each one revealing a bit more of her milky-white chest until it hung completely open, fully exposing her cleavage while still covering her nipples. They were maybe B-cups, but perfectly placed without even a centimeter of hang.

"I knew you'd like them. They are quite perfect aren't they? Genetic luck, but I'll take it."

Then she shrugged her shoulders to let the shirt drape off and down her back while she leaned in and whispered, "My nipples have been rubbing my shirt all day. They are dying for some attention."

I needed no further encouragement and moved deftly and with as much grace as I could muster to firmly, but delicately take one of her engorged nipples into my mouth. I sucked and slathered my tongue around it until it was wet and had even extended a bit more. Then I hovered my mouth over it and quickly inhaled the hot air around it. The effect was immediate as the nipple was now protruding even more than before and her gasp and moans were loud enough that I became somewhat worried about the folks in the waiting room hearing us. Not enough to stop of course.

"Oh my God do that again," she whisper-screamed.

I moved to the other nipple and repeated the act, this time gently pulling and softly twisting the first nipple while I lavished my tongue's attention of the second, accompanied by her moaning and a constant chorus of, "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop."

I didn't and suddenly she gasped deeply and began to shudder from head to toe. A small squeal leaked out before she covered her own mouth with both hands. I continued my efforts for a few more moments until she exhaled and moved her hands to remove me from her torso.

"Oh my God, amazing. That's never happened before," she spoke in hushed tones while gathering herself together, "but I can assure you it will again."

She took a step back and we looked each other over. Her wearing only her shoes and socks, me still completely clothed.

"Think we have time for me to reciprocate?"

I wasn't going to say no, but it seems she meant it rhetorically as she moved to unbutton my shorts and pull down both them and my boxers in one fell swoop. My cock had been in various states of arousal since the tour began and the relief of setting it free was only then topped by her mouth engulfing it without ceremony.

Now, that same tongue that had been moving a mile a minute during the tour was working my dick like it needed it to survive. It had probably been a decade since my wife had last given me head and I'm sure it was only after days of cajoling— never with the enthusiasm and energy displayed here by, by ... holy shit I still don't even know her name. She was just the tour guide who had titillated me all morning and was now eating my cock like it was a gourmet meal.

She was slobbering all over it and taking every inch of it into her mouth until her nose was pressed against my stomach— something else the wife had never even tried. It was exquisite and enthralling and soon I could feel that familiar feeling. I let her know I was close to finishing and she pulled her mouth off my cock and breathlessly said, "I want it in my pussy."

I stupidly checked my watch and could see my phone lit up and hear it vibrating in the pocket of my shorts lying just next to us on the floor. I reached down and grabbed it knowing it was my daughter, done with her interview, wondering where I was.

"Hey," I said attempting to slow my breathing. "You done?"

"Yes. Where are you?"

The tour guide was now twerking her bare bottom against my crotch as I leaned against the door.

"In the bathroom. Having a bit of an issue."

Silence on the other end.

Thinking quickly, "The dining hall is next door. Do you have cash?"

"Yes," she replied with disdain as I unbeknownst to her positioned my cock at the entrance of our tour guide's glistening sex.

"Go grab something and I'll meet you."

"Fine."

And as our intrepid guide backed her pussy around my staff, my daughter hung up.

I dropped the phone on to the pile of my shorts, grabbed hold of her luscious, alabaster hips and began thrusting. It was heaven. My wife's pussy still feels great, but it's pushed out four kids. I feared that the unbelievable sensation of this young, tight and wet pussy would ruin me for my wife forever. However, as I felt her clench her vagina muscles around my dick while she turned her head and told me to never stop fucking her, that thought quickly left my head.

I was pumping harder and she was fucking herself back into me, meeting every thrust. I should've expected that kind of energy from her after the tour, the nipple play and the blow job, but this was the only woman I'd fucked other than my wife in more than twenty years. I never expected any of this to happen I my wildest dreams so every detail was just as unbelievable as the next.

I could tell she was getting close and after almost cumming, then almost losing my woody on the phone with my kid, I was on the verge of what was probably going to be my most powerful cum shot of my life. Somehow it occurred to me that I was riding bareback, fucking into oblivion a woman I'd just met, whose name I couldn't remember, who for all I know would be my kid's roommate next year. Was she clean? On the pill? How easily did we start fooling around? For all I know she's the campus slut. Against my cock's judgement, I briefly stopped and asked her, "Are you safe?"

She moved forward until just the tip of my cock was nestled in the outer folds of her pussy. She then turned her head and all but growled at me, "I thought I told you to never stop fucking me."

And then pushed back at me with such force that it felt like my waist was inside her as well. I had never been so deep inside and immediately I started to explode, filling her box with my seed. We both kept pounding until I felt her gasp and shudder like she had before, cumming all over my embedded cock.

She stepped away from me and stood over the toilet as I watched our combined fluids flow out of her into the bowl. It was a lot, or at least seemed so. I had never seen a woman drip-dry like this.

"You came a lot," she said confirming my suspicions, "and when I get filled with cum, it makes me cum a lot too."

I was still leaning against the door, more sweaty than I had been on the tour, completely disheveled and discombobulated at what had happened. I was also more blissfully happy than I had been in a long time.

"Are you okay?" A question that had become a habit after each time my wife allowed me inside her.

"I'm great," she replied casually as she started picking her clothes up off the floor and dressing. "That was great. Thanks."

"I should be the one thanking you. I haven't had an experience like that in ... well, ever."

"Yeah, that was definitely top ten," she said now fully dressed. How did she get dressed so fast? I was still in a state of shock and still half naked.

"I'm going to slip out. I have another tour soon. Lock the door after me."

She slowly opened the door a crack and peered out. Then, without another word, or any acknowledgement at all, she was gone.

I slowly got myself together and mimicking her, stealthily made my way out and to the dining hall where my daughter was engrossed in her phone. Scraps of food on a plate and an empty glass were the only evidence of her lunch.

"How was the food?" I asked.

"Pretty good. You going to eat?"

"No, no. My stomach is still not quite right."

"No more details okay?" Teenage girls can be so compassionate.

Then again, did I deserve compassion? I wasn't really sick. In fact, a wave a ravenous hunger came over me but there was no way I would compromise the not-so-elaborate ruse I had constructed to cover the truth. I wasn't getting sick in the bathroom. I was cheating on your mom while experiencing the greatest fucking of my life.

We got up, disposed of her lunch and silently made our way to the car, my daughter's face in her phone the entire time. And so, onto the next campus.