He is a little shy, but suddenly, you are not.
You are overwhelmed with lust, but not overwhelmed with hurry. As you dance, your kisses become hot breathy and passionate. You let his tongue explore your mouth, his lips mush onto your’s. You push back. You let him suck your tongue. Your head is spinning. How long can you possibly remain standing?
Now, his hands are on your buttocks, your ass. You are trembling with excitement. Your pussy lips are stiffening, flaring open, you know they are, you can feel them, and you know what they look like when you are ready. You’ve seen it in a mirror. You know that feeling well.
You twist your ass around to the music with his hands rubbing hardly, softly. You kiss. His fingers are pushing into the top of your dress. You feel your shirt being pulled, untucked. You allow it. You pull at his shirt and let your hands roll delicately across his back and his backside.
Different from your husband. Exciting.
Where is he, now, my man?
Oh, he has moved into a booth with his new woman friend, your new friend’s wife. She is laughing freely at his humor, staring deeply at him, into him. But he is watching you too. He is wearing a wide open grin of excited encouragement. That pleases you.
As your husband watches, your dance friend has untucked your shirt, and his shaking hands are exploring hotly underneath. He finds your bare tits and moans quietly. You moan too. You feel your hardened nipples pushing with erotic desire into the palms of his hands.
You shove your pelvis and pussy towards him, grinding slightly on his thigh.
You push back from him, a foot or so away, and you stare into each other’s faces. Your eyes move quickly down his body: truth is, you are not all that interested in his face.
You grab him by his belt buckle. You can see the sideways arc of his cock through his pants. In the dark, through his clothing, it looks like it could be large. At that possibility, you melt again, inside, your knees wobble with lust. You cannot believe what you are about to do. You cannot wait.
Discreetly, slowly, slowly, slow on purpose to enjoy every heart pumping moment of this, you undo his belt buckle and his pants top button. You pull his zipper down an inch or two, for room.
As you pull cloth outwards toward yourself, you look down and there it is. His cock. His outrageously beautiful large cock. You swoon at the sight. Your teeth chatter.
In the semi sexy dark you can see it sticking out of the top of his pants. You are now breathing very heavily, your heart is out of control. He is in the same condition. You touch his cock with your fingertips, brushing lightly at first. Then, you push one hand entirely down inside his pants and grab the soft cock skin wrapped in your palm. You pump slightly. You want to go down. You are salivating, your heat is palpable.
He suggests that the two of you join his wife and your husband in the booth, and you do.
He sits with an arm around you, ready to talk, but you don’t wait, can’t talk. You can’t wait.
With a giddy wink from your husband, your head drops down, your lips are wet and open, your tongue is licking the top of his cock. You push your mouth slowly around the head of his cock. The taste and smell and feel take over. Your hand is pumping. He nearly comes. You pull your mouth back just as some sperm spurts onto your lips and hand. You lick. You smile.
Your husband and the man’s cute wife watch with fascination, eyes glued to the passionate scene, each clearly wildly excited.
You’ve pulled your head up. Still sitting, you’ve spread your legs. Where are your panties? That’s right. You never put them on again after visiting the washroom earlier. They are in your purse.
Your mesmerized friends have an unobstructed view. Your cunt lips are soaking, flowing, open, flared, waiting. His fingers are in, they are rubbing the ribbed roof of your vagina. You kiss. You grab cock. You nearly come.
His wife suggests you stop, and let him fuck you. She reassures you.
She urges you to lean over the table backwards. You agree, and quickly you are there. You are on your back on the table. Your face is close to your husband’s face, and her face. Everyone is breathing hard. You know that her hand is on your husband’s cock. You don’t care. You like it.
You spread your legs. It is dark, the little bit of light is blue and orange. The man leans over you, hands around you on the table. He unbuttons your shirt, opening it wide, exposing your breasts. You allow that, in fact you want that, and you pull him in close. He licks you. Your nipples ache with erotic lust. More more more, don’t stop sucking.
His cock is sticking out of his unzipped pants. You are now on your elbows, briefly, watching it. It is all you can think about… please please please put it in me right now. You gasp for deep slow breath as he teases the slick sucky entrance to your cunt with cock head. You know how large the head of his cock is, and it is now reaching out for you with stretched excitement. You can see that. You are the cause of it.
You know he won’t last long, but that is not your care. Just please put it in me, you scream inside, and beg outside.
He slowly pushes, you slowly part. He pushes it in, then oh so slowly pulls it out. The pleasure is nearly unbearable. You breath out loud and moan with each movement. You lick your lips. You grab his backside with one free hand.
Your husband and the man’s wife are moaning quietly with you. She is masturbating under her dress! And she is jerking off my husband at the same time!
You swoon and think “Oh my God. I am masturbating, I am being fucked in public, I don’t care, I am out of my mind and I am not stopping!”
His cock huge, now bottoming out, is totally in you on each pass, he is slowing down, speeding up, slowing down, he is gone out of his mind with lust for you.
You are now working hard towards orgasm. You masturbate. You don’t care who is watching, you want people to watch, especially your amazing husband, you know that everyone is here for the same thing, and that right now you are the center of attention. You build. You moan. He moans. You can feel his cock doing a pre-come vibration strum.
You are gone.
You explode with wave upon wave of come, and he explodes with a muscular flood of sperm inside you. You feel every slow spurt deep inside. You want every bit of it, as deep as you can get it, right to the end, all of it. And you do.
You deeply and slowly exhale animal groans to the end. All of you, all four, are soaked in the juices of prolonged sex. Your husband is laughing. Your new friends are laughing. You feel like crying, but you laugh instead.
Later, on the way home, you thank your husband, and wonder aloud when you might do this again.
He smiles, with a wink.
The End
Secretary in the Elevator
My first attempt at writing, please note that contraception is always used by myself for casual sex, so simulation may arise during this story. I received help with editing from a work colleague in changing some of the more intimate words which are taboo in my vocabulary normally. I have a link photo for this story on my profile, taken by myself with my cell phone outside our offices in the same clothes during a lunch break.
Before I commence, I am 5'8, have strawberry blonde dyed very long straight hair which originally is very dark. My boobs are a petite 32b but they suit me because my back is very narrow and although not protruding they kind of slant slightly upwards at the ends. I have a 23 inch waist, 34 inch hips, long slim legs, too damn long! My ass is small but sticks out from my waist and is ultra feminine in tight, low cut jeans.
I have small delicate hands, soft lily white skin with freckles all over, dark eyes and pouted lips. My teeth are slightly crooked but very white and I have a ski jump nose. I wear jeans and t shirts the majority of time, but have to wear skirts and blouse or a suit to work. I am 24.
It was a hectic Friday afternoon in the office, I was itching for seventeen hundred hours to ping up on the little clock in the bottom right hand corner of my computer monitor enabling me to place this tedious eight week nightmare behind me. We had four temps in for the last eight weeks, geeks with eyes in the back of their heads and although I loved the extra eyes stalking my thighs around the office I was relieved it was nearing its end.
I momentarily thought back to when Oliver, 19, the youngest of the quartet actually had a full view of me and possibly found out that my hair was actually dyed blonde. I had a little careless moment while swaying my chair towards the printer allowing the whole isle opposite a full view of my dark, bushy mound totally visible through transparent panties. Only the gullible Oliver happened to have his eyes in my direction so I was hoping only he had the unfortunate sight of me. I think the word spread through the office though, probably by email or cell phone because I received so many dirty looks from all my work colleagues, guys and girls, for the rest of that week.
At last it was five and time to leave, I grabbed my short navy jacket from the back of my chair and slid my long skinny arms in to it, I loved this jacket because it was so short, not even reaching my waistline although on this occasion I wished different as a coffee stain was visible on the front of my blouse from the bottom two buttons down. What the hell, who cares I thought, I only have the journey home and so what, a coffee stain, big deal I have had worse.
“Bye Rachel, have a nice weekend.” Jason Richards yelled as I walked across the office, my navy skirt riding up as I walked because it was so damn tight. I knew that it was revealing my ribbed elastic panty line, suspenders and stocking tops with every stride I took, did I care?
“See you Jason, you too.” As I looked over to him I felt the whole office glaring at the lower half of my slender one hundred and twelve pound, five feet and eight inch frame.
“Fucking hell, I wouldn’t be long coming if I was in that ass, for sure!” I heard vaguely from somewhere in the accounts section, guessing it was probably Hector Sawyer, a middle aged manager who’s wife was caught on her knees with a mouth full at his daughters wedding reception three months back to which the whole company loved knowing. She was the stuck up perfect wife type who supposedly did no wrong.
On hearing him say this I briefly stopped to say goodbye to my friend Jennifer at reception, gently leaning over the desk knowing full well my skirt had just risen up revealing my stocking tops and the creases at the base of my pert ass to the whole office. It served desperate Hector and all those in there right, for watching me depart. Dirty bastards!
Anyhow I said goodbye to Jennifer and made my way to the elevator which I just managed to catch, squeezing through the closing doors, my jacket just flicking open as the front of it caught the left hand door pulling my body slightly to one side and tugging my blouse tight, sliding my scarlet red low cut bra to one side revealing my pert 32b pancakes to all in the elevator. I say pancakes, but most guys I have known have loved them because they have a nice shape giving them a very innocent if not sexy look. Who cares!
On the normal two minutes or so from floor fifty two to the ground I usually got the average looks, glares whatever you want to call them, I always seemed to get the same bunch of guys in there? For some strange reason girls hardly ever ended up on my trip, maybe because I was ultra hasty in departing from the offices every evening as soon as the clock struck five and most girls used the bathroom to touch up their make up before leaving.
We stopped at floor thirty nine, I couldn’t believe it, there was a group of African guys who I later learned were representing their company in some conference. They always held conferences on thirty nine, there was a huge complex area there which was used for events such as so.
There were already four guys and myself in the elevator, and maximum allowance was fifteen.
“They won’t all get on here.” I quietly said to the guy standing next to me. As I looked at him for a reply I saw his eyes looking down towards my waist, the damn cheek of it! I looked down and saw my skirt had ridden way up due to my brisk walk from the office, showing the dark toppings of my opaque navy stockings and black suspender clips.
He quickly looked up and replied, “No, no I don’t think its appropriate for so many to get in.”
“Hurry up, are you getting on or not!” Came a loud shout from guy behind me, I noticed straight away his annoyance in them being there. The Africans seemed hesitant initially, whether due to this guy being somewhat impertinent in his manner, or whether because I was standing right at the front with my jacket open. My red bra was drilling through the white cotton of my tight undersized blouse with the buttons almost bursting, which is the way I like them to be, revealing what huge boobs I did not have but huge nipples I did have and knew full well this thin bra had no chance of hiding. Who knows why they were hesitant but after a brief stall they all started to push their way in nevertheless.
There must have been twenty of them, I thought hell, its too many, way too many, the elevator can only take fifteen, but before anyone could say wait, stop or excuse me, they were in with us, all crammed together.
“Excuse me people there’s way too many in here.” I said. On which I was pushed right back towards the rear of the elevator feeling bodies pressed up against me.
“Yes, don’t press the button some of you must exit before we go down.” An older guy shouted, I noticed him from many other trips down and also from our bosses office on the monthly review dates, he was around fifty, very posh sounding but rugged looking, with balding hair and an unusually red leather briefcase, very classy! Snob!
It was too late, the doors went across, I thought oh hell!
The elevator jolted and started its descent, I looked around and knew we were way over loaded. I felt a little scared, I disliked confined spaces and as I looked around I saw man after man, most taller than myself jostling to get some space.
I heard the new additions mumbling to one another in their native language I presumed, and then noticed a few of them turn around and gawp in my direction. This elevator, although being around ten by ten feet, suddenly seemed tiny as their eyes were fixed upon me. They could only see the top of me I thought, its so packed.
I was standing in front of the original four guys and had the others pressed up against me pushing me further back. Then the guys immediately in front of me turned their necks around and were only inches from my face, I felt their breath on my face, the smell of strong coffee lingering across my tiny turned up nose, I felt my thick pert lips very dry, my pale pink lipstick nearly worn away and felt helpless for a second, then one of them politely smiled and I knew he had manners.
I felt like I was being invaded by their darting eyes, them being so close I must look a mess, my eyeliner smeared, I had not touched it up since lunch, what do I look like? Then they leaned to one side allowing a gap to form in front of me and I felt some fresh air, phew, I felt better straight away! I noticed all the Africans leaning over to the clear gap peering in my direction their eyes glaring up and down my body. I knew I was on show, my skirt still riding quite high, the bottom of my blouse scruffily protruding with the coffee stain obvious and I knew some skin was visible, I knew they could see the outline of my suspenders because the skirt was so damn tight!
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“Oh fuck oh look at that!” I heard one say
“How did they know such words?” I thought
More leaned over getting a better view, secretly I kind of loved it, but showed no mannerisms to this feeling, I merely looked up to the ceiling of the elevator acting inhibited. I then felt a hand from behind sliding over my lower back down to the top of my skirt. I moved forward a little but in doing so felt the back of my skirt pull away from my thighs, the owner of this hand had grabbed my skirt the bastard!
As I went forward it rode up my legs revealing firstly, the tops of my navy stockings, then the freckled white skin of my long slim thighs and my lacy black suspenders, it all happened so quickly. The back of my skirt had whipped up, I knew my ass was there for any voyeur to fix his eyes upon. Then the front of my skirt raised too, everyone could see, the Africans in front of me were dumb struck, I quickly moved back but it was way too late, they saw almost everything I had on, from my red bra visibly transparent through to my blouse to my stockings and suspenders. The only thing not on show were my see through bright red silky panties, the ones which were easily a size too small , the ones that cut right into me, the ones which would ride up into my swollen lips and my ass when I walk and stay there for the rest of the day! Yes, they were the sort of panties that made you want to walk and walk all day long feeling that lacy cotton sliding back and forth along the avenues of slippery skin deep down between your inner thighs.
Then, to our dismay the elevator abruptly came to a halt. I quickly moved back and tugged my skirt back down looking back to see who had grabbed it. The four guys behind me looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth. Dirty bastards I thought.
“We are at no floor!” A guy said
“It’s too much weight, the system has failed!” The balding man quickly commented
“We will have to wait for assistance.” He added
“Great, just great!” I said with much annoyance.
The balding guy pushed his way through to the keypad and spoke through to reception who replied saying the engineer from maintenance would swiftly be on hand.
It was quite a warm day and needless to say even warmer in there at that time with so many people.
I held my handbag close to my side as I felt a hand again on the side of my body, I saw the African guys looking at each other wondering what was wrong with the elevator. I then felt a hand slowly slide up my left thigh, I moved over to my right only to be halted by the guy next to me, being so crowded.
The balding guy then pushed his way back from elevator keypad, I saw him as I glanced away from the ceiling my for the first time, his eyes looked down to my tight navy skirt as this wandering hand gradually started pulling up the side it. They all looked on. I had my right hand on my bag and with my left hand I attempted to stop my skirt rising any further but it was so crammed in there, my skirt helplessly came up. My left arm was pulled behind me by someone and with my right hand I tried in vain to hold my bag.
Before I knew it I felt my skirt drift up past my bare legs, I knew they could see down there, there was a gap in front of me but a narrow one. Enough though for everyone to peer through but no room for me to move.
“Very nice, very nice young lady!” Said the balding guy in a creepy way as my skirt was hiked up reaching the tops of my thighs. I didn’t know where to look, I looked up at the ceiling of the elevator again, almost out of embarrassment, but I was loving it. I never let on though.
“Fucking hell, look at that, red panties, look guys, red and you can see right through them, right fucking through them, what a slut!” An arrogant sounding man said loudly. I knew he could see my panties digging into my now drenched mound revealing all of its shape. I was sincerely hoping my dark bush was tucked away inside them but deep down i knew it wasn’t, I knew it was curling its way out and around the tight elastic which barely held these micro sized panties around me.
They all pushed towards me and I knew my skirt was up showing all I had! I felt my skirt ride up over my 34 inch hips right up over onto my skinny waist knowing they could see all of my tiny panties clinging tight round my petite frame, I knew they could see my dark, indeed, very dark mound through them, knowing full well the blonde hair on my head was so very much fake!
I felt ashamed for one moment for being the peroxide blonde tart they all thought, but then my mind drifted as I felt hands on the front of my thighs, the dirty bastards, I kept my head facing up with my eyes shut, wondering what might happen or maybe hoping what might happen next. Then I felt a finger dip under the elastic of my panties, just to the left of my now dripping dignity, the finger slid under and over pushing its way across the dry skin of my outer lips and reaching the slippery middle where the juice was already flowing freely like melting jelly. I was so quietly horny!
“Oh, oh fuck miss, fuck!” I heard a guy say in an indescribable English accent. I knew it was one of the African guys. Then more hands darted inside my now drenched panties, I felt three or four prodding fingers meandering around deep between my legs, the silky juice mingling with those dirty fingers letting them slide effortlessly around my dignity.
“Tear those panties off, tear them down, let us see what she’s got, let us see if the stories are true about her!” I heard in the same arrogant voice as before.
I then knew he knew something about me, who was this man, which office was he from, which part of the building?
I then felt them being peeled down and tugged very hard, they slid over my pert ass, I felt exposed and vulnerable as they went down over my suspenders. I felt one of the clips then ping off and the panties got caught, they were cutting into my legs the thin elastic almost slicing through my tender skin.
“Get them off, tug those beauties down, I want to see that tan lined thick triangle they all talk about in admin, the forest slut, Rachel Lamont, the girl with the gaping dark hairy bush!” The same insolent man said with no decorum whatsoever.
My panties were pulled hard and I felt them rip and they were helplessly torn from my freckled white soft skin leaving my thighs bare, on show, naked! My natural dark brown curls visible to all those Africans and to all those guys from this building who might know me and although I disliked the remarks made about me by this stranger I didn’t care, I was too far gone.
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“Oh yes look at that! The dirty slut! Its true she doesn’t shave and she does dye her hair! The stories were true, he wasn’t telling lies, it was her in the photo’s!”
When I heard this I thought that Oliver, the temp, from our office may have took a picture with his cell phone or something and had been saying and showing stuff, the little bastard! Although he must have cut out my face, but still he’s a dirty little bastard!
I was getting pushed across the elevator, hands were everywhere. My skirt was right up round my waist and I then felt hands over my top, those bastards!
I felt my blouse being pulled and the buttons just gave way, it was forced open revealing my scarlet red bra, a hand quickly ripped that open too, my pert little boobs exposed with my large, erect nipples aching and feeling so large, larger and harder than I could have ever imagined. I was locked up in the situation, helpless, wanting, craving cock, but not just one cock I was aching for many!
My legs were so weak, I had never felt that way in any situation during my life.
I had felt horny and weak at the knees on occasions, as with my present boyfriend of that time Marcus. Well, I’d often think of a bunch of guys taking me while I sat on him and rode him hard, pumping my hips as I looked at the TV. Bucking away like a rampant little pony until he’d fill me up with his hot thick cream, then I would slide off of him and sway my hips up over his face and let him, no, make him lick me dry, while thinking of his mates taking me one at a time. Also on other times while out drunk I would often let the cab driver have his way with my wanting pussy instead of paying the fare, letting him pump me hard, no matter who he was, or how old he was or what he looked like, shamelessly letting him spray his load into me and then on my return home, again shamelessly, lure Marcus, my boyfriend, into sliding inside my panties with his tongue to lick and unknowingly clean up the cab driver’s remains.
But even doing all this I must admit in the elevator I had never ever felt that horny in my whole life!
I felt myself being turned around as my bra left my body, I opened my eyes briefly seeing the balding snobbish guy facing me smiling, wondering if it was him who said those things? Was it him? Was it the same accent? Did I know? As I wondered I felt my body shiver! I then realized I had all those African guys behind me, I knew their cocks would be out.
I felt their hands on my soft skin, all over my back and sliding down onto my ass and under, yes under, right under to my craving wet love tunnel, finger after finger sliding under, those utterly dirty bastards. I heard heavy breathing and smelt the sweat of which seemed a hundred guys. I felt fingers glide over my virgin ass prodding in their tracks, my hips beginning to buck in motion, my mind thinking of their hot come bottled up inside them pressurizing their hard tools. I was loving the thought of the hot liquid flowing up their shafts, right to the top, waiting to pump, pump hard and fast, it was a lovely thought.
The balding guy who was now in front of me grabbed my arm and my bag fell to the floor, he forced my hand straight down onto his tiny cock which was slightly bent and very thin indeed, I grasped it tight and without any shame started jerking it, my tiny fingers easily smothering it.
“Pull it baby, pull it nicely for me! Make me come baby, make me come hard!” He muttered to me.
I realized then his was not the earlier abrupt voice that had commented on my hairy bush, definitely not, no way, he was posh but his accent was not so perfect and he was more polite in his manner.
I then felt something thicker than a finger gliding over my soft peachy ass, swaying across, side to side as if sizing it up, I glanced round and in doing so saw so many faces, sweating foreheads, glaring eyes, bodies pushing. I looked down and saw this huge black cock in this guy’s hand as he slapped it on my innocent round and now sticky rear end, god I felt horny!
“Give it to her dude, sink it in that tight ass dude, bareback! Teach her, show her that flirty little teases get what they deserve!” Said the same voice from earlier.
I didn’t think the black guy understood his English words, but just then I felt him lean towards me and I heard gasps all around, his huge member slid between my ass cheeks starting at the top and slowly gliding down the crevice of my tight, pert ass. My whole body went weak, I felt the pressure around my tiny virgin opening as he attempted to push in me, my hips were pushed up with the force, my whole body must have lifted 6 inches vertically, then it pierced through, his thick rod entered me.
The End
Damn Lucky Duck
Ryleigh heard the phone and quickly pulled it from its place in her back pocket. She grinned when she saw who was calling.
“What the fuck do you want?” she asked, laughing, hoping she already knew the answer.
“You! Then the fuck.”
Ryleigh continued laughing.
“Isn’t it early for you to be up after working last night?”
“Yeah, but seems another part of me was up even earlier. Unlike some people, I didn’t leave the bar with a buddy.”
“Oh, Frank.. Poor baby.”
“You have fun last night? Willing to share details?”
Ryleigh grinned. He really was horny.
“He licked me out like a pro. Came three times. Nice thick cock, too. The first time was a massive letdown, but he made up for it easily enough. You want me to describe how I went down on him? I hung my head over the side of the bed and let him fuck my mouth for a while. That big cock pushing down my throat was like heaven.”
Frank’s breathing was changing and she figured he had his dick in his hand, stroking it already.
“No fair playing with my toy if you are asking me to come over for a play date.”
He grumbled out a laugh, but she could tell he had stopped. Men were too easy.
“How soon can you be here? I’m at my sister’s place, house sitting for her. The family went on a trip, so I’ve got a nice big house all to myself. They are gone for a week, so we can get fucking wild and I have time to make repairs before they are back in town. Up to a challenge?”
Ryleigh loved it when he was full of himself.
“Sure. Give me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m bringing a few toys of my own. See you then.”
Deciding to skip class, Ryleigh grabbed a duffle bag from her closet and began filling it with a few toys she knew Frank liked. They weren’t a couple, just friends that both loved to fuck and fit well together. Their tastes were similar enough to enjoy the same things, but each had enough experience with others to bring surprises to their ‘play dates.’ After grabbing a few lubes, butt plugs, her favorite pair of nipple clamps and her purple rabbit vibrator, Ryleigh packed a change of clothes in the duffle and prepared to head out. Checking the address on line, she saw that the house was less than 30 minutes away. She smiled. It was in an upscale part of town. She would be in much nicer accommodations than her dorm provided.
Frank, meanwhile, had a hard on that made it impossible to do anything but think of when Ryleigh would arrive. Deciding he would be a better lover if he wasn’t about to explode, he headed to his nephew’s bedroom and got in one of his old favorite positions. He had come up with the idea when he was about 12 and his family had seen a Cirque du Soleil show. Seeing men and women contort their bodies so that their ‘private parts’ were just inches from their mouths seemed like an incredible thing to a kid that had recently discovered the joy of masturbation. It had taken him a while to get limber enough, but eventually he had succeeded. Now, as an adult, it was much more effort and he preferred a woman to suck him off. However, desperate times called for desperate measures.
Lying down on the twin bed, he scooted as close to the wall as he could and slowly walked his legs up until he bent nearly in half. Straining, he lifted his chest up, extending his neck until his lips were just out of reach of his stiff dick. Walking up the wall, one more step put him in position and soon he was licking his dick, slurping the large purple head and tracing the hole with his tongue. He teased himself as long as he could, his tongue lapping at the silky skin and then straining to put the head in his mouth to suck. Out of breath, from both the excitement and the exertion, he laid his head back, resting his neck, and quickly began stroking his cock, the rhythm steady and increasing in speed. As he got closer, he opened his mouth and tried to aim.
His hand slid up and down his cock, twisting as it traveled the length from base to tip and his breathing was quick and erratic as he felt the cum begin to boil in his balls, preparing to break free. One, two, three long strokes, very deliberate. He twisted to get that last bit…
“Ahhhh,” he moaned, cumming hard. He licked his lips, tasting the sweet nectar. Much of it missed him, making a mess on the bed near his head. But, there was enough to give him a taste. He purposefully ate lots of fruit on the weekends, knowing it changed the taste and made his cum delicious.
A sound at the door caught him off guard and he quickly grabbed a sheet, cleaning himself up and then rolling off the bed. Slipping on his shorts, he headed back to the living room.
“I’m coming!” he called out, and then smiled. ‘Actually, I already came,’ he thought with a grin.
Checking the door, he saw that Ryleigh was waiting.
“Come on in,” he said, opening his arms to her.
Ryleigh tossed her duffle on the floor and eagerly stepped into his arms, her mouth searching out his. As her tongue began to explore his, she tasted the fresh cum and pulled back.
“You son of a bitch, I told you to wait for me. You’ll pay for that, you know.”
There was a smile on her face, but the tone in her voice let him know that she was going to have a lot of fun with him.
When Frank first told her that he could suck himself, she was a bit put off by the idea. However, when she envisioned what it would be like if her own tongue could reach her clit, Ryleigh knew in a heartbeat that she would take advantage of that several times a day. The first time he let her watch as he sucked himself, it turned her on more than she thought it would. Frank strained, his tongue extended completely, licking the head. When he managed to get it in his mouth and begin sucking, Ryleigh could wait no longer. She attacked, straddling him, her pussy rubbing in his face and his cock deep down her throat. They had stayed that way, her wet pussy soaking his face and his cock filling her mouth and pressing against the back of her throat for almost an hour, bringing each other to the verge of climax over and over before they finally could hold back no longer. It was some of the best oral she ever experienced.
Frank looked down at the cute girl, grinning. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, as usual. Her hazel eyes were more green today, which he found damn attractive. The tank top she was wearing was just a bit tight across her tits, showcasing the C cups beautifully. And, when she was frustrated, like now, her nipples tended to stand at attention even more. It was almost worth pissing her off just to see the show.
“I know. I’ll make it up to you. But, I was too damn horny. I’d have cum during the fist kiss.”
He gave her a grin and she raised an eyebrow, figuring he was probably right, but not letting him off the hook.
Instead, she stepped back and looked around the house. It was nice. A cluster of children’s toys lay in one corner.
“This is your sister’s place?”
“Yeah, her and her husband. They have two kids, two boys. So, you might see some kid stuff around here, but just ignore it.”
Ryleigh continued to look around the house, eventually making it back to the master suite. It wasn’t her taste, but it would work. Too much damn ruffle and lace. Fuck that shit. But, she knew she liked their bed. Nice thick posts. Easy to tie people to. That could come in handy.
Moving into the bathroom, she smiled as she saw the jetted tub. It was huge, easily big enough to two and probably more. At one end was a mesh net of children’s bath toys. She made a face. What a pity. Have something this nice and ruin the mood with children’s stuff. She’d have Frank remove that..
“Frank,” she called out to him. “I want a bath. You owe me, remember. So, draw me a bath, nice and hot, with bubbles. You are going to wash my hair, so gather whatever you need. I’ll be expecting you to get me in less than ten minutes.”
Frank grinned, shaking his head. Damn she was a bossy bitch. But, she was good looking and fucked like her life depended on it. A bit of bossy bitch was worth putting up with.
Ryleigh got her duffle bag as Frank prepared her bath. Taking out a few of her favorite items, she put them on the bed and then began to undress. It didn’t take long.
“You about ready?”
“Always.”
“You better mean it,” she said, entering through the large double doors and back into the bathroom. There were bubbles everywhere as the tub filled. Smiling at Frank, Ryleigh stepped up and over the edge, putting just her toe in first to test the temperature.
“Perfect,” she purred to him as she moved the rest of the way into the water.
“Here, turn around, back to me.”
Ryleigh did as he asked and was surprised when he lifted a long length of cloth over her head. She instantly recognized it, though, and the smile on her lips grew. He tied the blindfold securely in place, and then moved her around so that she could lie back in the huge jetted tub.
Saying nothing, he got some water in a cup and began to pour it over her head. Ryleigh jumped slightly at the sensation, and then tilted her head up, allowing the water to flow easily over her hair and down her back. She felt his hands as he slid the band from her hair, letting it fall down her back. Another cupful of water was poured, then another. The hot water felt wonderful as it cascaded down her back. But, it felt even better as it ran down her chest, dripping from her erect nipples. She would change the angle of her head and body as he poured the water, allowing the flow to change with her desires.
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Frank still had not joined her in the tub and she wondered what he was waiting for. Ryleigh heard a bottle snap open and then his hands were moving through her hair. She moaned. It had to be one of the most erotic feelings in the world to have a man wash her hair. He lathered her up nicely, rubbing the base of her neck and working around, behind her ears. Slowly he moved forward, up and over, until he came to her forehead. Rubbing above her temples, he was now trying to relax her more than wash her hair. Her tight little body began to unwind under his talented hands and she moaned again. Frank smiled. He couldn’t believe she was going to be his until some time tomorrow afternoon.
“Lean back,” he whispered as he leaned over the tub, slipping his arm under her for better support. Her slick, wet skin felt so good in his arms that he began to stiffen again. Frank studied the water glistening on her breasts, the nipples puckering as the cool air hit them. Bubbles dotted her body, gathering in pools here and there.
Using the cup, he rinsed her hair again, envying the water as it flowed over her. He purposefully dribbled a cup over her nipples, enjoying them strain as they puckered tightly.
Ryleigh moaned, her smile wide, as her body responded to the sensations.
“You are close to being forgiven,” she said, teasingly. “But, I’m sure you can do more to make up for your lack of self control.”
Frank looked around, trying to find something to tease her with. Eyeing the net of toys, he found a small truck with foam wheels. He grabbed it and began traveling her body, making donuts and spinning out on her nipples.
“What is that?” Ryleigh asked, laughing and enjoying the strange sensation.
“You have to guess. I’m not saying another word.”
The truck ran along her breasts, ‘jumping’ the nipples, coming down on her stomach and ribs before spinning out in the bubbles and making its way back up to her chest. Another jump or two, and she figured it out.
“A car or truck or something? Something with wheels.”
“Correct.”
“Ready for the next one?”
“Sure.”
Frank looked around, digging in the net for a few seconds, before he saw the rubber duck. He laughed when he saw the bill. It was smiling, the top and bottom of the bill making a little ‘v’ shape. The tail was long and curled up, soft and pliable, but sturdy enough to hold its shape. This was going to be fun.
Ryleigh jumped as something cool and smooth drifted across the top of her nipple. She sucked in her breath and waited for more. Soon the other nipple experienced the same sensation.
“That thing is damn cold. Can you warm it up?”
Frank grinned and pushed the duck under the water, aiming for her pelvis.
“Open your legs.”
Ryleigh quickly complied, eager to see what he had planned.
“Just make sure whatever you have is clean.”
Frank laughed and shook his head.
“No worries. Though, it won’t be when we finish.”
Frank’s dick was almost fully erect again and the cool side of the tub was not a pleasant sensation. Moving to the other end of the tub, he got in, sitting between her open legs. The view was amazing until bits of bubbles began to float in his path. Scooping them up, he made tiny snowmen on her perky tits, enjoying shaping them as he fondled her nipples. Her moans let him know that she was enjoying it, too.
Now, back to his true target. Taking the duck, he used the open bill to run along her thighs. Ryleigh shuddered, moaning again as he traveled closer to her cunt. The duck’s bill moved over her pussy lips and then moved up, part of the bill on each side of her clit.
‘Damn lucky duck,’ he thought, eager for his own mouth to take the duck’s place.
Moving the rubber duck slightly, he rubbed it against the tiny nub that was beginning to grow and come from its hiding place. The duck slipped down her slit and he pushed the head inside of her slightly before making its way up the other pussy lip.
“Mmmmm, what is that? It feels so good,” Ryleigh moaned to him, her hips lifting slightly, eager for more attention.
Saying nothing, Frank used the duck’s tail this time to travel her slit once more and played around her hole, moving it in and out. Even in the water, he could tell she was getting very wet. Her juices looked different from the water.
Leaning over, Frank began letting the water out of the tub. Once it was low enough, he stopped it again. Now he could enjoy her as well without having to hold his breath.
Moving so that his mouth was just above the beautifully trimmed pussy, he ran the duck up and down her slit several more times, thrusting it in and out of her as Ryleigh moaned and moved her hips, wanting more.
Dipping his mouth under the water, his tongue made contact with her clit and Ryleigh moaned, jumping at the unexpected pleasure. His nose was still just above the water, though he still had to hold his breath from time to time as she bucked against him and the rubber duck in her pussy. The duck’s head slipped in and out, not going deep enough to give her real satisfaction, but enough to make her want more.
Ryleigh’s hands came down on Frank’s head, pushing him deeper into her pussy. She was so close and she wasn’t going to let him tease her for too long. His tongue began to move over her clit more assertively. Whatever was in her pussy was soft and hard at the same time. It had something on the side of it, she couldn’t tell what, but it was hitting a great place that she didn’t even know was sensitive.
Frank, meanwhile, had his nose under the water now and Ryleigh had a good hold of his head. He knew he needed her to cum quickly or he was going to piss her off even more when he came up for air. His dick was straining against the tub because of the sudden danger he felt as he hoped for another breath soon.
Ryleigh’s hips bucked again and Frank quickly took advantage, inhaling deeply as his nose came up out of the water. It plunged under again, quickly, as she moaned repeatedly. Her sopping pussy sounded amazing as the duck slid in and out. If he wasn’t careful, he would shoot his next load before they even got out of the tub.
“Yesss…..Yes…Damn it! Yess….”
Ryleigh’s voice was thick and he knew from experience she would be cumming soon. His tongue licked the slit up and down and then he bit down on her clit.
Her hips bucked, almost throwing him off her as she came. He held on for dear life, holding his breath as he surged above and below the water. Frank held the duck in place, its head inside of her.
Ryleigh loved the combination of pleasure and pain and Frank had discovered biting her clit just as she was getting close was a sure way to throw her over the edge. His teeth held the sensitive clit in place as his lips moved all around, sucking as he could. Added to that was the sensation of water cascading in and out, up and down as her hips bucked.
Eventually the bucking slowed and she released her grip on Frank’s head, allowing him to come up for air. He looked down and laughed at the duck hanging out of her cunt, head securely buried within her pussy lips and hole, the bright yellow body looking out of place, but erotic. Pulling it out made her moan again, but he quickly replaced it with his stiff cock. Thrusting deeply, water splashed around them as his hips slapped against her pussy and ass. He drew her closer to him, putting her legs over his shoulders as he thrust in deeper and deeper. She was so slick and hot.
Ryleigh moaned, her hands on her tits now, pulling and pinching her nipples as Frank fucked her. The water splashed on her face and at times, small waves covered her mouth and nose.
“Harder!” she yelled out to him and he forced himself in as deep as he could get, his pelvis slamming against her.
“Again! Again! Yes!”
Frank yelled out then, feeling cum spewing deep within her as he came. She shivered and pulled him to her, welcoming the heat of his body against her cool, wet skin.
They were quiet for a few minutes, recovering from the intensity of their first fuck of the day.
Ryleigh moved Frank’s face, pulling it up so that he could see her. She smiled at him.
“Ok. You’re forgiven. Now, when does the party start?”
Damn, he really liked this woman.
“How about some party snacks first?”
Ryleigh nodded.
“Sure. I’m in the mood for a huge cocktail weenie. Have one around here?”
He grinned. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
The End
Good Night And Sweet Dreams
HOUSE CALL
Elena sat nervously paging through her magazine for the tenth time while her husband, Tom, said, “Try to relax, babe, he’ll be here, don’t worry, it’s not even eight o’clock yet!!!” “I know,” she replied with a shiver, “but I’ve looked forward to this day for so long I just hope nothing goes wrong to spoil it!!!” “What could possibly go wrong,” Tom asked softly, “everything’s set!?!” “What if he hates me,” she replied fearfully, “I mean what if I don’t excite him!?!”
“You’re nuts,” her husband replied quickly, “he’s gonna adore you, hon, now just take it easy, all right!?!” After giving her husband a small smile she replied softly, “Okay, baby, I’ll try, but it won’t be easy!!!” Elena actually began reading one of the articles in her magazine, so she kinda got lost in thought, when out of the blue the front doorbell rang, practically making her jump out of her skin while whispering hoarsely, “There he is, you answer it!!!”
Tom chuckled under his breath while making his way to the front door, and he had to admit that even he was a little edgy about the whole thing, so after taking a deep breath he pulled open the door and said, “Hi, you must be, Lincoln, I’m Tom Noble, please come in!!!” Lincoln Collier stepped into the foyer of the Noble’s house and after extending his hand said, “It’s nice to meet you, Tom, nice place you’ve got here!!!” “Thanks,” Tom replied after shaking Lincoln’s hand and leading him into the living room to meet his wife, “Elena, this is Lincoln Collier!!!”
“It’s nice to meet you Elena,” the large black man said while flashing a million dollar smile, “and believe me, your pictures don’t do you justice!!!” “Thanks, Lincoln,” she replied while turning six shades of red, “you’re not so bad yourself, say, how about a drink!?!” “That’s a good idea,” Tom replied quickly, “why don’t I get the drinks while you two get better acquainted!?!” “That’s fine by me,” Lincoln replied, “how about a bourbon on the rocks!?!” “Okay, one burbon on the rocks coming up,” Tom replied, “and your usual, babe,” he asked Elena!?! “Uh, yeah,” she replied while givng Lincoln the once over, that will be just fine!!!"
Room Six
I went to an expensive university on a partial scholarship that didn’t pay all the bills, so I had to work to make up the difference. I worked dawn-to-dusk on a construction project during the summer between high school and college and earned a big chunk of what I needed. I had to find a part-time job during the school year to earn the rest, but the university’s placement office didn’t have any jobs above minimum wage. My experience on the construction job, plus the years that I worked after school at a hardware store, helped me land a job as a handy-man. I would have preferred something closer to the university campus but there was regular bus service to get across town, so I was able to save some money by not needing a car.
My employer was the Southside Academy, a small private college for girls. It was a boarding school that offered freshman and sophomore level classes in an environment that was more personal than at the huge university I attended. I was one of only eight men on the staff. There were two male professors on the faculty, plus a night watchman, a gardener and his assistant, and two maintenance men who worked on weekdays. I lived in a small room in the basement of the administration building and took my meals in a dining room for non-faculty staff members.
My job didn’t have any set responsibilities. I just had to be there in case something broke down and had to be repaired on short notice. The evenings were usually fairly quiet, giving me plenty of time to study. The weekends weren’t quite as slow, since it seemed like everything that broke did so on a Saturday or a Sunday.
When I wasn’t fixing something or studying, I was watching the girls. Being a leg-man, I had plenty to watch, too. About 150 girls were enrolled at Southside, all from well-to-do families. And there wasn’t a black, an Asian or a Hispanic among them (after all, it was still the early seventies). There weren’t many fat girls, either. Athletics and physical fitness were stressed at the school, and just about every student was a member of one or more sports teams. The tennis team, the gymnastics team, the swimming team and the diving team were competitive on the junior college level, but the girls also played interscholastic volleyball and softball. The result was a campus full of fit, attractive female bodies.
Normal attire for the students was a uniform of sorts consisting of a white blouse and a skirt, which could be any solid, dark color. A school sweater or blazer was added on cooler days, and the girls were allowed to express their individuality with a scarf or shoes of their choice. The Academy dress code did not permit pants or slacks, and even the women on the faculty were required to wear skirts or dresses. Short skirts were fashionable, so the hemlines were several inches above the knee. I liked it best when the women and girls wore knee high boots with their short skirts, which they often did. (Gas was cheap, too, so life was good.)
I had just turned eighteen when I started working at Southside and, although I wasn’t a virgin, I was eager to expand my sexual horizons. Socializing with the students was discouraged, of course, but all of them were of legal age, so I considered them to be fair game. I set about getting to know them, beginning with their names. Privacy laws were not as important in those days, so getting my hands on a roster was easy; there were copies of the student directory in most of the offices, including mine. Then I got a yearbook from the previous semester and started to put names to faces, concentrating my efforts on the best looking of them. The Academy’s athletic events were an especially good place to watch the girls, because the coaches frequently asked me to be there to fix broken equipment on short notice. I especially liked the gymnastics and swim meets, for obvious reasons. I love a form-fitting leotard or Speedo, but the tight micro-shorts the volleyball players wore were also quite revealing.
A few of the two dozen women on the faculty were nice-looking, too, including the President. Everyone called her “Dr. B” since she her multi-syllabic last name was hard to pronounce. Too bad all forty-year-old women didn’t look that good. She was a well-endowed brunette and I always watched her when she was around since she usually wore high heels that showed off her superb legs. In fact, on my second evening on the job, I looked out the window from the basement workshop and saw up her dress as she spoke to one of the professors. Under her skirt she wore stockings and garters, and I watched her from then on, hoping to get another glimpse like that first one.
Then, late in my first month on the job, I learned something that made my life very interesting: Southside Academy used corporal punishment to discipline their students. I learned of this one weekend when I saw three members of the staff leading a girl to Room Six. Room Six was at the opposite end of the hall in the basement of the admin building where my workshop and sleeping area was. Curious, I went down the hall and listened at the locked door. The shrieks and cries I heard told me a very serious spanking was in progress. The sound of leather on bare flesh was unmistakable.
Not wanting to be discovered, I left before it was over. I went to check out Room Six after they were gone but I discovered that I didn’t have a key for that lock. In fact, not counting the girls’ dorm rooms, Room Six was the only door on campus that I couldn’t open with my master key. After listening to two similar spankings, I was determined to learn more.
By listening discreetly and asking just a few questions I learned that, sometime during their first month as a student, every freshman was taken to Room Six to witness the punishment of an older girl. It was supposed to impress upon their young minds the consequences of breaking the rules. Among the students, Room Six was the most dreaded place on campus. Some of them called it the Dungeon, the Torture Chamber, the Punishment Room or the Whipping Post, but most everyone usually just referred to it by its room number.
Punishments usually took place in the evening on weekdays, and in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays. That way the student had at least one night to recover before classes began the next day. The offender had to strip totally naked before she was shackled in position. A professor or other staff member would administer the punishment with some kind of a leather whip, and the school nurse was always there to keep an eye on things. The punishment strokes were not counted. The event was timed, usually by Dr. B, but sometimes by one of the school secretaries or by Dean Adams (Dr. B’s assistant). Punishments lasted from as few as one minute to as many as five minutes and usually, but not always, resulted in uncontrollable crying by the miscreant.
Having learned all I could and seeing the regularity with which Room Six was put to use, I set about finding a way to observe the proceedings. Planting a camera was out for a variety of reasons: I didn’t have that kind of money, I couldn’t get into the room, and the TV cameras of the day were way too big to be easily concealed. Room Five, next door, was full of air conditioning and heating equipment but drilling or cutting a peephole in the concrete wall was impracticable, as well as far too obvious.
The ventilation system was my answer, but it was going to take some work to modify one of the ducts as a peephole. I needed an excuse to work in there, so early on a Saturday morning I put some road kill in one of the ventilation ducts. The call for maintenance boomed over the PA system after lunch. With Evelyn, Dr. B’s secretary, following me around the building, I traced the odor to Room 5 and then told her that I could see a dead animal in the duct work. I told her I would have to dismantle a few things to remove the corpse and clean up the blood and guts, and that was all she wanted to know. She went off to report to Dr. B, leaving me alone to put my plan into effect.
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Altering the metal duct work so I could see the interior of Room Six took less time than I thought. I cut a hole through the bottom of one of the air registers and fabricated a hinged panel to cover the hole. The register was fourteen inches wide and the grill that covered it would prevent anyone in Room Six from seeing my face on the other side. The grill was about eight feet above the floor so I had to come up with something to stand on. Anything permanent was out of the question since I didn’t want to leave any evidence of my voyeurism. I solved the problem by building a small platform that I could hook onto one of the sturdy electrical conduits that were attached to the wall. The platform was large enough for me to stand on but small enough to hide under an air handler when I wasn’t using it.
When I finished my spy hole I rearranged the boxes and furniture stored in Room 4. I wanted to be able to pass unobserved from my workshop in Room 3 to my spy-hole in Room 5, and I wanted my perch to be concealed from the door to the hallway. That door was kept locked, but I knew I had to be careful.
The next morning, a Sunday, my preparations paid off in a big way. I had finished breakfast and was on my way to the workshop when I saw some women go into Room Six and close the door behind them. Quickly but quietly, I made my way to Room 5 and climbed onto my platform. I got my head into the air duct in time to watch Rebecca, a pretty brunette, removing her bra. Evidently she had been on a date the night before and she had stayed out past curfew.
Three women were in the room with Rebecca: Dr. B, Maria, the school nurse, and a math professor named Yvonne. Dr. B was her usual well-dressed self, but from my high viewing angle I couldn’t really admire her legs. Maria was kind of frumpy-looking in her all-white uniform and flat shoes, but having seen her in the dining room I knew not to dismiss her charms so quickly. She was rather pretty with her hair down and I had also observed that, although slender, she was built very well. Yvonne was a tall blonde with nice legs, but she was flat-chested and not especially pretty. She was an intriguing woman however, because there was a rumor going around campus that she spent one month of her summer vacation on a nude beach in Europe.
Rebecca stepped out of her panties and allowed Yvonne to shackle her wrists to a sort of trapeze bar hanging from the ceiling. Maria then turned a crank to raise the bar high enough to lift the girl’s hands above her head, but not so high as to lift her feet off the floor. Rebecca’s naked body, including her nicely developed tits, was completely on display to my hungry eyes. I wondered if I would be able to keep a straight face the next time I saw her on campus. With Dr. B. and the nurse (and me) watching, Yvonne tucked a Bible under her right arm and proceeded to turn the girl’s wonderful round ass an angry red color.
I wondered if her date had been worth those two minutes of pain she endured. She screamed and kicked her legs and twisted around as much as her restraints allowed. I was looking at her right side most of the time but her movements allowed me several good views of her back and her front. I particularly liked it when she raised either knee, since that made her thighs and buttocks look especially good. Yvonne kept up the whipping, following Rebecca’s twisting motions so the girl would know she could do nothing to escape her stinging punishment. Sometimes the foot-long strip of black leather at the end of the whip would slap noisily across both cheeks and sometimes just the tip would hit, delivering an especially painful sting.
Halfway through the whipping Maria examined Rebecca’s buttocks and declared there was no permanent damage. Then she did something I didn’t expect; she rubbed the girl’s ass for at least ten seconds. I thought it might just be to add some humiliation to Rebecca’s ordeal, especially when her face flushed and she shivered a little. She also bit her lip, squeezed her thighs together and opened her eyes a little wider, as if she was feeling something she did not expect. I found out later that the massage treatment kept the girl’s butt from going numb and therefore lessening the intensity of the punishment, but I also wondered if Rebecca had become sexually aroused. Horny or not, she endured another twenty-five or thirty lashes before Dr. B called a halt to the punishment. Yvonne hung the whip on the wall and then freed Rebecca’s wrists from the shackles.
“No rubbing yet,” Yvonne told her. “You don’t want any more.”
“Yes, Miss Smith,” Rebecca replied. “I know what to do.”
She flexed her fingers as if forcing herself to keep her hands away from her burning buttocks. Then, instead of going to the corner to retrieve her clothes, she bowed to Yvonne and thanked the professor for whipping her. She actually sounded sincere. Then she got down on her knees in front of Dr. B. and apologized for her behavior. Once again, I could tell from the muscle tension in her arms that Rebecca was doing all she could to not reach back and rub away the sting she must have been feeling. Dr. B. let the girl babble on for a moment before she let her get up and get dressed.
Rebecca’s departure was not the end of the show as another professor came in, bringing a student with her. I recognized Dr. Johnson, a blonde biology professor, and Sara, a tall brunette upperclassman whose tits were among the largest on campus. Dr. B announced that Sara was guilty of a curfew violation just like Rebecca and, not surprisingly, the punishment was the same. Sara undressed (Wow!) and then she stepped up to the bar so Dr. Johnson could fasten the wrist cuffs. I got the feeling that Sara had a lot of experience in Room Six.
Sara gritted her teeth and closed her eyes tightly when she heard the first lash on its way. Her big round ass flattened under the whip and then rebounded and shook as she clenched her thighs and wiggled her hips. I got a real eyeful as her grapefruit-sized boobs flopped and jiggled while Dr. Johnson was whipping her. Her endowments were magnificent indeed, but for some reason I wondered if someone with such voluptuous curves at a young age might not have trouble keeping weight off later in life. It was a weird thing to think about while I was watching her dance at the end of a whip.
Even a novice like me could Dr. Johnson hit harder than Yvonne had. The pace was about the same but the whip just seemed to move a little faster in her hand. But Sara was also tougher than Rebecca had been. She didn’t move around quite as much and her feet rarely left the floor. She kept her legs farther apart as well, but her pubic hair was thick and I couldn’t see much of her pussy. So I just concentrated on watching her bouncing boobs.
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The two minute whipping probably seemed like a long time to Sara, but it was all too short for me. My erection was uncomfortable in my pants and I wanted to take it out and jack off, but I was afraid I might get caught. Room Six was a quiet place right after a whipping, and I figured that if I could hear Sara’s soft apology to Dr. B, then the women might also hear me if I made any noise at all. I learned quite a bit of self-control while I was watching naked girls get spanked in Room Six.
I wanted more, and when Sara got dressed and left the room I got what I wanted. Dr. Allen, a mousy history professor, came into the room with Teresa, one of the freshmen. Teresa hadn’t done anything serious but she had evidently accumulated a number of minor violations. Twice during the week she had made too much noise in her dorm room and she had also neglected to do some assigned homework. Those things were enough to earn a trip to Room Six, but then she ended her week by failing a test in Dr. Allen’s class.
Watching the offending students strip was one of the best parts of my voyeurism. Of course, the actual whippings were a true spectacle for a horny teenager like me, but when the girls were taking off their clothes it seemed like I was getting to know something about them as individuals. The way they moved and spoke, the expression on their faces, their attitude, and their choice of underwear all told me a little about their personalities. Some girls shivered and had goose bumps, while the naked skin of others glistened with perspiration. Their nipples were sometimes erect or there was moisture between their thighs that wasn’t perspiration, so I knew at least some of them were turned on by the thought of a spanking, at least some of the time. As Teresa got naked I decided I should keep a journal of what I saw and learned. I would have to keep it well hidden, of course, but it might come in handy if I ever managed to pursue a relationship with any of the girls.
Teresa had a nice figure. Her legs were well-developed but when she took off her bra her B-cup tits sagged more than I expected. Her pubic hair was dark, and I wondered if she colored the hair on her head. She had a very nice ass to go with her legs, and I figured she would take the whipping well. Her multiple infractions had earned her a five-minute whipping, so I was about to find out.
Dr. Allen was a short woman and Maria had to lower the trapeze so the professor could fasten Teresa’s wrists in place. What Dr. Allen may have lacked in height she made up for when it came to the force of her lashes. Her technique with the whip was masterful. Each lash ended with a crisp snapping sound on Teresa’s bare ass, and the poor girl was shrieking louder and louder with each one.
Dr. Allen took longer between her strokes than Yvonne or Miss Johnson had. She got in less than twenty lashes before Dr. B called an end to the first minute. Maria took a quick look at Teresa’s rump and saw that Dr. Allen wasn’t drawing blood, or worse, and then the nurse did her little butt rubbing trick. That was a part of her job I envied.
As Teresa’s punishment continued, her cries became more subdued with each lash of the whip. Dr. Allen kept the same steady pace, and the way Teresa’s body flinched under the blows told me she felt the sting of every stroke. She started crying towards the end of her second minute, causing Maria to take an extra few seconds to massage the feeling back into her ass cheeks. Teresa continued to cry through the third and fourth minutes, but she stopped crying before her last minute was over.
Seeing how limp she was as she hung from the bar, Maria and Dr. Allen left her there until she was standing on her own. When they did release her from the shackles, Teresa stood with her head down for at least another minute before she composed herself enough to thank Dr. Allen for spanking her. She also took longer than the previous girls with her kneeling apology to Dr. B. In all, I got to ogle Teresa’s naked body for about twenty minutes. It was great.
The next student to enter was way too skinny for my personal taste. I didn’t really want to watch her get whipped, so I climbed down and put things back the way they belonged. Then I made my way back to my room where, with visions of naughty naked women filling my mind, I spent the rest of the morning masturbating. It was a remarkable beginning to a very stimulating year.
The End