Sex on Campus

I understood that the men she had slept with had never been patient enough to just let her suck their cocks. I hadn't been either, and my wife had only done it when I had been licking her pussy, and not better than a C-plus, to be honest.

"Daddy, that wasn't nice!" his daughter murmured, taking a better sip of cognac and water, continuing to read her father's erotic story.

I didn't need prior experience to anticipate that Evangeline would be able to lick my cock where it was most sensitive, but first she had to get it aroused. Whatever she had been doing, while waiting since her freshman year to sleep with me, even if she hadn't done it this way before, apparently she must have had some fantasies about what she could do.

She engulfed as much of my still soft cock with her mouth, not pushing back my foreskin. Nice, that I had the kind she liked best - "better"; there are only two kinds. Have to kid her about that. She wasn't going to have to push it back; her sucking was making the head of my cock creep out of it. She chuckled with nod, letting it, until she had to raise her head a little, and then a little more. Then she raised it further, her tongue finding where it was most sensitive. I moaned, and she chuckled, her tongue obviously enjoying tickling the little ridge of skin there.

Of course, I knew already how sensitively arousing that was, without a girl's licking; men knew how to help themselves. Not any more, but before I married and any girl had touched my cock, just rubbing with a finger was almost painfully too good. I moaned, wondering when my Evangeline had first discovered that. She must have; when I moaned again, her tongue relented. Then I felt her fingers on my sack, already tight, from the way her fingers fondle it.

She raised her head, letting my cock bob up, and murmured:

"Didn't want that to happen yet," then looked up at me with a grin and added:

"Suffer!"

"Relief, gladly."

"I'm going to suck your balls, when I get them loose again."

"Oooh! How will that feel?"

"You don't know? Neither do I; what I haven't done before."

"Hmmm! Nice, something we both had to wait for."

"Um-hmm," she agreed, grinning.

We had to wait for my sack to relax, but her fingers knew something about that, catching a wrinkle and pulling, and catching another wrinkle. When I thought it was loose enough for her to try to suck one in her mouth, she still continued. My cock was drooping passed half mast when my sack was completely loose. She chuckled at her success, with her fingers behind them, batting them lightly, making them swing. I chuckled and remarked:

"Nice, feels good, someone else playing with them."

"Someone else?"

"Just me, sometimes, like this weekend, if you weren't."

"Oh! Don't let me intrude, if you rather would." We both snickered.

"Suck my balls," I demanded with a grin.

"Mmmm! That's what I like: a man telling me what to do."

She did, pressing one between her lips and gently closing her mouth around it, sucking and caressing it with her tongue. I moaned to show my appreciation; it didn't feel that arousing, but it was arousing that she wanted to. After several seconds of letting me enjoy it, she let my ball pop out of her mouth and looked up at me with a smile, asking:

"Feel good?"

"Um-hmm. For you too, I hope."

"Yes, about like I expected, the hairs and all."

"Hm-hmm! And knowing that you really had me by the balls, one of them."

"Um-hmm! You better be good; I'm going to have the other one too."

"Thought you wanted me to be bad at being good."

"You've been pretty good at that so far."

"And you, very good at being bad -- so far."

"And now again. This is good, like this."

Before I could think of a witty reply, my wilting cock was back in her mouth, and we started all over again, she and my cock. When she had me moaning again, wanting to urge her head to bob on my cock, she raised her head and murmured:

"That tastes good; almost couldn't stop."

"A masochist for having managed to."

"Um-hmm," she agreed with a grin, scratching behind my tight sack and then finding a wrinkle to start loosening it again.

When it was, and she was about to push my other ball in her mouth, I remarked:

"Just remember, I'm being good, at least until you want me not to be."

She nodded, not looking up, and then my other ball was in her mouth. This time, she let me feel her teeth holding it, chuckling, humming, as she sucked and licked. Her humming vibrating on it felt good. I moaned and murmured:

"Humming because you like it? Feels good."

"Uhnnnn, uhn-hnnn!"

I felt it more than heard her, chuckling. This time, she really let it pop out of her mouth: "blop!" When she looked up at me with a grin, I said:

"I've only got two; you've had them both, so now?"

"Hmm? I guess so. ... Oh, I could do something else I've never done before, but only if you want to, too."

I must have raised my eyebrows questioningly. She smiled wryly, and explained:

"I could lick you there too, where we washed each other, but only if you want to."

"Hmm? If you do? 'Anything you want' was sort of a promise."

"Worth waiting for so long, but then you're going to have to suffer again."

"Be careful, if you almost couldn't stop before."

She grinned with a nod, and then my cock was back in her mouth. She was more gentle about arousing it this time, or my cock had become a little inured to what her tongue was doing, or I was less aroused in the confidence that she would stop, wondering about her wanting to lick my asshole. Her fingers had already shown me that it would feel good. It would for her too, the same feeling. If she wanted to, I would too.

His daughter gave a surprised snort and emptied her glass. She returned to reading.

Her fingers were scratching behind my tight sack again. She raised her head and murmured "now," her hands sliding under my thighs, urging me to raise them. I dropped back on the bed, drawing them up. She pushed them further back, rolling my hips up.

"Oooh! Uhn!" I responded, feeling it twitch, as her tongue tickled it, circling, then the tip of it probing. I chuckled, humming, and murmured:

"You're going to like that."

"Uhn-hnnn!" she agreed, her tongue probing, when my asshole relaxed.

His daughter shook her head with wry expression and reached for her glass again, her empty glass. She thumbed the remaining pages, hesitating for a moment, and then murmured: "Sunday tomorrow." and went and refilled her glass, this time with less cognac and more water.

After doing that a couple of more times, her tongue licked back up, licking my sack, and then up the back of my cock, rising up from her haunches to following it, now that I was lying on my back. Her tongue tickled there again, making it twitch, and I moaned. Before it disappeared in her mouth, she murmured: "Not as much as I'm going to like this."

Why hadn't I let her fuck me the first time she wanted to?! It wouldn't have been as this good, I rationalized, and we hadn't fucked again yet, but we were going to - after I licked her pussy and asshole! But first, she was going to feel me thrill, and how! After her having almost brought me to an orgasm three times, my balls were aching for relief, "suffering" - lover's nuts!

I moaned and groaned. Could a pussy - even a young, tight one like hers -- arouse my cock the way her sucking and her tonguing my cock where it was most sensitive was doing? She had said that she was going to like it.

I grunted and came! A wonderful, long spurt, relief finally! And she wanted it, nodding with moan, moaning, sucking and fucking my cock with her mouth, moaning each time it spurted! I had to hold her head still, but her tongue was still moving. I groaned, now desperate to have it stop.

Good girl! Her tongue licked up over the head of my cock. Was she swallowing - swallowing all my semen?! It had been so much! She raised her head, grinning, smirking at me, her lips moving, and rose up, diving down on me, her mouth on mine. She had not swallowed it all; a slippery, pungent tasting fluid slid with her tongue in my mouth. That was how it tasted, and she liked it?

She nodded, as though she had understood my unvoiced question. "Anything she wanted." I just had not anticipated that she would want to share it with me, but if she did, more respect for her having wanted it. My tongue caressed hers. If she liked it, I did, and wanted to her to know, especially that I appreciated that she had made me give her so much.

When I had swallowed, and we retrieved our tongue, just lip-kissing, both chuckling, I murmured:

"God, what a relief, but your making me suffer for so long was worth it."

"Hm-hmm! It felt like it, your 'thrilling'."

"And your sharing it with me."

"You didn't mind? Hadn't done that before either."

"If you liked it? Just seemed appropriate."

"You're dear. This is being so much better than anything I imagined."

"For me too."

She kissed me again, our tongues caressing. Her hips rocked down. She rescued her tongue from my mouth and murmured:

"You can do that better somewhere else."

"Just what I was thinking."

"Mmmm!"

She rolled off me with a grin, drawing her knees up towards her shoulders. I sat up and slipped off the bed and moved in front of her pussy, that she was presenting me, but I could hardly see it in the gloom.

"Eating should be a feast for the eyes too," I murmured, and found the switch of the light at the head of the bed.

"Not just for the eyes, I hope."

"Hm-umm! But it is: lovely pussy."

"Hm-hm-hmm! No one ever told me that."

"Must have been blind, ... or didn't know what looks good."

"I'll get a hand mirror sometime. Never really looked at hers either."

"Just hers, your roommate's?"

"Shouldn't ask, but no: a couple of other ones."

"Any port in a storm?"

"Maybe. Not really, better than a bad date, sometimes better than a 'good date'."

"Girls know better?"

"Um-hmm! And you do too."

She rocked her hips invitingly. I hoped that she was right. I couldn't help recalling that it had been a long time since I had licked a young pussy with inner lips that hadn't been stretched by childbirth.

When I had, however, I hadn't known to appreciate them as much as I now did Evangeline's, and the girls had been to reticent to tell me or show me what they wanted. Evangeline wasn't, encouraging me with murmured words and moans, when I did something more arousing. She didn't forget that she wanted me to lick her somewhere else, drawing her knees down to her shoulders and rolling her hips up. I raised my head and look where she wanted me to lick. I had never seen that before, but it looked attractive. It contracted. It wanted my tongue to tickle it. My tongue wanted to, wanted to feel it move, like mine had on her tongue.

She moaned, chuckling, murmuring:

"Oooh! Yeah! Mmmm! Makes my pussy contract too."

His daughter squeezed her thighs together with an almost silent moan.

I was delighted, venturing to probe more, enjoying that she moaned, chuckling, her thighs twitching. I had the disappointing thought, that my wife wasn't going to let me do that to her, but Evangeline did, until she rock her hips down and murmured: "Make me come."

I knew where she wanted to feel my tongue, and her firm clitoris was just so good to lick and nibble, even large enough to suck. She moaned, and I reached up and held her breasts, squeezing her tight nipples between my thumbs and the base of my index fingers.

His daughter moaned. Her hand was pressed down between her thighs on the skirt of her dress. She moaned again, having to remove it to turn to the next page. It returned, gathering up her skirt, her fingers creeping beneath it.

I only teased her once to let my tongue thrust in the mouth of her wet vagina, but she moaned in response. Did she know how it felt for my tongue from feeling those girls' pussies tighten on hers?

His daughter's fingers were pushing the crotch of her panties aside. Before she read further, one was where his tongue was in Evangeline's pussy, sliding in further than his tongue could. She moaned, her finger sliding in and out, and read again.

She tasted so good! But she wanted to come, and I wanted her to, my cock wanted her to, all stiff in my hand. When had it found it? Her hips rocked down and rose off the bed a little, pressing her clitoris in my mouth. Suck, nibble, lick: anything, everything to make her come!

She moaned, gasping and moaning, her hips twitching. Then they started to rise off the bed, almost bucking; I had to grasp her hips to keep my mouth on her. "God, yes!" she exclaimed, and then her whole body convulsed, as she gasped and moaned, her warm pussy spurting.

Gratifying success! I only wished that I could have caught more of her pussy juice in my mouth.

The sheaf of papers dropped from his daughter's hand, and it reached under her skirt and slipped inside the top of her panties, pushing down to let her fingers find where they could help arouse her. She moaned, those fingers rubbing back and forth, while two from her other hand thrust and clutched in her pussy. She slid forward to the edge of the chair so that she could rock her hips.

A couple of minutes and many moans later, she was glad that she wasn't sitting on an upholstered chair; her fingers were drenched, the back of her skirt and edge of the chair wet. She gave a questioning snort, smiling wryly to herself as she pulled the crotch of her panties back over her pussy, wiping her fingers on them. After a better sip of her cognac and water, she reached down and picked the papers up off the floor, snorting again. As she flipped the pages back to find where she had been reading, she snorted again and murmured: "Getting off to his description of doing that. Congrats, Daddy." She found where she had been reading, picking up at the previous sentence.

I only wished that I could have caught more of her pussy juice in my mouth. She was still catching her breath, her thighs now heavy on my forearms. Hadn't she said that I could try to "execute" her, give her "la petit mort"? My cock was my own weapon.

I gathered her legs up on my shoulders and rose up. My cock had no difficulty finding her wet, still open pussy. She gasped, as it plunged into her, her eyes suddenly wide open. Her pussy clenched it, and she gave a shivering moan: "uhn-uhn-uhn-uhnn!" but she didn't complain, when I stabbed her again, and again. She just stared at me, moaning like that, nodding once, as I plunged my only weapon in her again and again, as fast as I could, too fast to really appreciate how her pussy was clutching it.

With her legs on my shoulders, she couldn't move her hips much, but her body was trying to. She was gasping again, her eyes now clenched shut. Then with long groans, she came again, warm pussy juice around the base of my cock, oozing up on my hair -- so wet and warm!

His daughter had clutched her thighs together and murmured: "Shit, me too."

I held my cock still deep in her pussy, feeling it pulsing, making my cock throb. Did she know that I hadn't come yet? And I hadn't "executed" her yet; her eyes flickered open. She was still gasping and moaning. It took a moment before her eyes could focus on mine. She snorted with a just a twitch of her lips and murmured: "Not yet."

Was she referring to me or suggesting that she wanted still more, remembering our talking? She repeated: "Not yet," and rocked her hips. I rocked mine, not thrusting like before. She nodded with an "um-hmm!" If she did, I sure did, my cock did!

As I began to fuck her again, I hoped she knew what she had been talking about, "la petit mort." I didn't, but as long as my cock could, I would try.

"Oh, fuck, Daddy! Why didn't you do that to me?"

I fucked her until we both came. It couldn't have sounded attractive, if making love that desperately ever does. My hands had been doing probably painful things to her nipples, but hers had been encouraging them. When I collapse down on her, letting her legs drop down next to my hips, she was just sighing with long moans, her stomach rising and falling under mine.

Was that it, her little death, "la petit mort"? My cock slipped out before either of us moved. Then, finally, she drew a deeper breath and murmured:

"Oh ... [she used my first name for the first time], I love you for that!"

"And you too, 'for that'."

"Um-hmm, making love."

"Um-hmm."

We kissed, just to confirm our mutual understanding. I rose up, and we smiled at each. I chuckled and asked:

"Have you only recovered, or are you resurrected?"

"Mmmm! Hm-hmm! Resurrected, I think. Gives new meaning to the song: 'Killing me with Love'."

"Sounds a lot better than being fucked to death."

"Um-hmm, but about the same thing."

We grinned, nodding. I helped her sit up and stand up, and we embraced, kissing again, this time a little better. She chuckled and murmured: "Running down my thighs."

We went to the bathroom and started another shower, peeing on each other's legs. Washing each other was just affectionate. When we had dried ourselves, it was still surprisingly early. I suggested a nightcap from the minibar. We shared the half bottle of wine that we found, hardly talking, but exchanging smiles, some just mild, some more smirks. We agreed that we both liked to sleep in a cool room and turned the thermostat for the air conditioner down and got in bed.

His daughter saw that there were still more to read, and also went to bed. She had started to put on her pajama top, but then snorted, wrinkling her nose, and got in bed with nothing on. She lay on her side, chuckling softly. When she chuckled again, her hand found her breast. She smirked slightly, squeezing it. When she chuckled again, her finger was circling her nipple. She rolled on her back, and her other hand slid down, her fingers playing in her pubic hair for a few moments. Then she nodded to herself, and they crept a little further, finding where there was no hair. She sighed and let them do what they wanted. Eventually, she feel asleep.

When she woke up in the morning, later than usual, she was surprised that she didn't have anything on, but then remembered why, then remembering all she had drunk, pleased that she didn't have headache. Then she remembered that she hadn't finished her father's story. She got up and got it, snorting when her nipples popped out as she entered the living room. Back in bed, she shoved her pillow up against the headboard, settling back against it. It was so warm in the room, that she only pulled the covers up over her lap. She found where she had stopped reading and read further.

Oh, it's so nice, lying in bed with a woman one has spent such a delightful day and evening with. When I told Evangeline that, she agreed, both of us chuckling about my understatement: "such a delightful ...." Of course, it was also delightful to lie with our thighs overlapping, our arms loosely around each other. We must have talked for half an hour, recalling her papers - chuckling - and other things. Finally, we agreed to go to sleep. She rolled over under my arm and put my hand on her breast, and we said good night and fell asleep.

Some time in the night, I rolled back. Some time later, she also rolled back. I started to wake up, when I felt her hand touch me. My wife did not touch me like that. Then she murmured - waking me up more:

"Oh, yes. Hmmm, nice."

She rolled further, lying half on me, her thigh sliding over mine, and murmured:

"You, me, here, nice."

Her arm had slid over me. Just so comfortable and familiar. I think I nodded and agreed:

"Nice, here, you and me." Her hand held me a little closer, and I drifted off to sleep again. When I woke up in the morning, I was lying in bed with Evangeline's head on my shoulder, her thigh on mine, the way we had fallen asleep a few hours before.