Discovery
Lars had danced with five of the six attending TWA senior coeds in turn; all save his own daughter. It had been an enlightening affair; each young lady was different but all were absolutely stunning examples of feminine perfection.
He had been a complete gentleman on the first dance, but as his ardor grew with each close encounter, he escalated into his naturally bold alpha male persona. The sexy dresses, the stylish hairdos and makeup, the perfumed air, the warm swaying closeness of pliant female flesh brought out his macho. He rubbed the increasingly ardent dance partners against his body, pressing against their tits and pussies, building his lust in the musical foreplay.
The final dance ended. Lars' balls were heavy with caged-up spunk, provoked into being by the Last Dances with the senior coeds. He had wondered each time their dress covered boobs and groins had rubbed his chest and crotch if those nipples and pussies would be the ones rubbing him again later, horizontal and naked in bed.
The troop of young ladies were each donning their satin neck ribbon with its numbered disk dangling from the embedded ring. Lars pulled his own numbered disk from his pocket, the one previously handed to him upon arrival at campus. He hoped his request for a buxom, energetic young lass had been honored by the Housemother that reviewed the questionnaires and had done her best to make a suitable pairing.
He was overjoyed when he spied the matching number to his number five. Its counterpart dangled from his assigned overnight hostess' throat. It was none other than the reputed 'firecracker in bed': redhaired Riley.
She was unknown to him, not a previous paramour from his random visits to TWA campuses. Fresh pussy was always a welcome gift and he was excited by this opportunity for new discovery. He could barely suppress his giddiness as he scurried towards her.
She saw his rapid approach and brightened her face with a smile at his eagerness. At the last moment, she put her hands out to soften his hasty on-rush. He slowed but still ran into her hard, making her take a step back to avoid falling.
"Whoa, big fella. What's the rush? We have all night."
Lars took the cue and sagged a little with embarrassment. She saw his momentary awkwardness and fell into her obligatory coed hostess role, her duty to ease his discomfiture.
She took both his hands in hers, the ones that had mitigated his momentum, and stretched up on the toes of her heels, kissing his lips. She cleverly pressed her boobs against him to subtly show her genuine interest in him.
Stepping back, she stood in presentation mode, mounded boobs on display, holding his hands, letting him gather himself together so that they could amicably move things along.
He let go of one hand and head bobbed towards the door, his silent indication that he was ready to move things along. She took the initiative and stepped off towards the ballroom exit doorway,
She led her overnight guest to her dormitory suite. Her ass, tightly covered by the sequined bodycon party dress, rocked in front of him as her hand in his trailed behind. He could have walked beside her but this rear view was magnificent and only added percolation to his thoughts of what was to come, or cum, as it might be.
It was a short walk to her boudoir, or her lair, if the rumors were true. She led him inside and turned to face her latest quarry. The door automatically locked and they were alone, together, for the rest of the night. She stood at ease, her mood steady, ready for whatever he chose to do to her, for her or for himself. He doffed his tuxedo coat and threw it on a side chair.
Staring at her, he recovered his presence of mind and finally took charge, stating his first dominant command.
"Strip!"
A little bothered at his rude tone, she nonetheless held her gaze level at his face and moved to comply with his sudden change in temperament. Her hands drew out of sight behind her, plucking at the back fasteners of her tight bodycon gown. She looked askance as she fiddled and struggled, but the closures fought back.
She gave an air of agitation and shrugged her shoulders. Turning her body, she posed her back to him, holding the zipper tab up for his assistance.
"A little help, please?"
He half-stepped forward and took fist-holds on the top of her back, a normal move to pull the fabrics inward and loosen the clasp for unclipping. With a powerful yank outward, he tore the clasps apart, continuing to pull further, rupturing the zipper until the fissure stopped at the top of her ass.
She gave a hasty hop and yip at the sudden dress shredding, her hands instinctively coming up to cup and cover her abruptly exposed breasts. She peeked her freckled face back over her shoulder to gauge his temper. He saw the glance, hauled downward and dragged the dress to fold over her hips.
"Hands down, bitch!"
She bolted her look forward, head level, letting her hands drop to her sides. His hands came around to replace hers, cupping her tits, fluffing the masses, fingers circling her nipples, a quick pinch of the beaded nubs. She had been trained well to let the man fondle her chest orbs at will. And that was what she did now, standing still as he took his masculine privilege with her female body.
He grasped handfuls of the soft flesh, pulling her back against him, pressing his lips to her neck, smelling her perfumed hair. He crushed her tits in warning as he muttered in her ear his next instructions.
"Now me. Undress me. And be considerate; no show of insolence."
He released his holds on her fun bags and let her turn his way. It was his first real sight of her bare breasts. He liked what he saw; he had seen many sets of tits but these were among the best he'd encountered.
She reached up and calmly pulled his knotted bow tie, sliding it out of his collar. She started with the top buttons on his shirt. His hairy muscled chest was slowly revealed. She pulled the cummerbund around and unclasped the snaps before it joined the other tux parts on the side chair.
Riley loosened his belt, button and zipper in order to untuck the shirt tails. He assisted in doffing his shirt and dropped his pants to his shoes. She squatted, untying his shoes and helping take them off, followed by sliding his pants off his feet. Leaning back to rest her ass on her heels, she looked up at him. He was staring down at her, apparently enjoying the top-down view of her marvelous breasts. He nodded and she knew what that signaled.
She took hold of his boxer's waist band, pulling out and over his cock and balls, easing the underwear down his legs. As she worked, his tumescent erection tapped her face. She felt the intimate touch of tip on cheek but stayed focused on the immediate task. He pawed again as she slipped the undies over his feet. He shifted his stance wider, offering better access for her next step.
Her hand rose to wrap his shaft, lifting it horizontal. She pursed her lips and kissed the swollen head. It tasted of pre-cum, a salty gooey flavor. She closed her eyes and lapped a tongue tickle on the under-vee. It gained his soft mummer of admiration. That encouraged her to up her efforts. She dropped her hands and sucked in the bulbous knob: a long inch, her lips moving past the corona.
Hands fell on her head. She should have been better prepared for the abrupt hip thrust that drove his cock into her mouth, bouncing the head against her tonsils. She was skilled at deep throat but was caught off guard. The gag reflex fluttered her tongue and pulsed in her stomach. She struggled for control and managed to restrain her reactions.
Thinking calm thoughts as quickly as possible, she opened her throat further and pressed forward, burying his tip down her gullet and pressing her nose into his tuff of pubic hair. She even jittered a few bumps to massage his corona in her deep recesses. That gained a very vocal 'ahh' from her aroused male. His hold on her head loosened and she backed off for a needed breath, but didn't release his appendage completely from her mouth. She suckled a few cycles on the half-embedded shaft.
