It’s the one thing that has shocked me more than anything during my time here in America. I thought I would become lost in the sea of American students unwilling to let a foreigner into their routine. But I’ve found that the other students and teachers respond quite positively to me. They welcome me with open arms into their culture, offering to show me around and involve me in many things. My accent alone breaks any barriers when introducing myself. Especially with men. Though it’s always been that way, even in Italy.
Except with Simon.
Simon is the only man I’ve ever encountered, if you can even call it that, who hasn’t pursued me, even after seeing me naked.
It was the first night I came home from volleyball practice that I saw him across the way. I was admiring the sunset as I slipped out of my sweaty clothes. In the briefest of moments when I glanced across the courtyard, I noticed the boy next door watching me.
He stood just past where the sunlight reached into his dorm, but I could still see him, cloaked in shadow.
I love the thrill of confidence that a man’s lusty gaze gives me. It makes me feel sexy, alive, alert. But this man was hiding. He never gave me the satisfaction of admitting his attraction.
It frustrated me.
I wanted him to reveal himself to me, so I kept taunting him with my body. Three days into our little routine of me stripping and him watching not-so-secretly, I saw him touch himself in the shadows. His slender fingers wrapped around his hard, thick cock, and he pleasured himself as I revealed my naked form to him.
I was frustrated that he hadn’t come to see me in person, not even “accidentally” bumped into me on campus. I began imagining him taking things further, touching me, kissing me, fucking me…
In the weeks that followed, I learned more about him. He’s a Junior, an artist, a sweet, shy boy. I continued teasing him, trying to get him to come out from the shadows as I undressed, to look at me and feel the thrill of knowing that I saw him. But he never did. I could see him sketching furiously, pumping away at himself under the desk, avoiding my gaze, and pretending I didn’t know. I became obsessed with the fantasy of being with him, of being his creative muse. No one had ever kept their attraction to me a secret before, and it drove me mad.
Every night after practice, after my stripteases, I spend my time in the hot shower pleasuring myself with the mental image of him fucking me against the tile.
I want him. I need him. I’ve thought about him more than I’ve ever thought of another man in my life.
And here he is in front of me, finally caught in my trap, yet still trying to deny himself the attraction between us, the ecstasy I know he’ll give me, the pleasure he could never imagine I’d bring him.
Now that he’s right where I want him, I’m not going to let him run to the shadows this time.
In an instant, I yank his underwear from his hips, letting them pool at his ankles on the floor. Simon gasps.
“What are you—”
The sensation of me running my fingernails down the sides of his legs silences him immediately. I stare up at him, his eyes half-closed in shock, his cock hard and erect with desire.
I may be overdoing it here, but I’ve never been denied the satisfaction of pleasing a man who lusts after me before. I’ve wanted this encounter with Simon for a long time. I want to bring him over the edge and watch the look of pure ecstasy wash over his face as he says my name, and I make him cum all over me.
“I knew you’d been watching me,” I say. I lick the inside of Simon’s thigh, stopping just short of his balls. He stiffens up.
“You did?” he says, his voice low and trembling.
“I like it when you watch me,” I whisper, “and I love how you touch yourself when you think of me.” I lick up his other thigh higher and higher until I’m teasing his sensitive testicles with my hot, wet tongue.
He lets out a soft moan, and it surprises me how wet I become in response. “I know you want to be inside me, Simon,” I breathe, gripping the base of his shaft hard. He groans and grabs my shoulders. I wrap my mouth around his smooth tip and moan at the sensation of his ridges gliding against my slick throat, sending vibrations down the length of him to his core.
Simon moves his soft artist’s hands up my neck to the back of my head, delicately guiding my pace to his liking. He’s barely touching me. Why is this boy so impressively erect for me holding himself back? He must need some encouragement, I tell myself, ignoring the burning doubt inside me.
I suck him hard, trying to focus on how good he tastes, but his lack of enthusiasm is driving me mad. I work my lips until I can’t stand his distance from me any longer. I pull away and glance up at his shocked expression with glaring eyes.
“I want you to fuck me, Simon.” I say it like a matter of fact, just in case he didn’t get the hint. I’m standing with my chin high, meeting his gaze face to face. It’s a challenge.
He stares back at me, mouth agape. I can tell he wants to say something, but he’s still holding back.
“Why won’t you touch me?” I ask, suddenly afraid I might burst into tears. What is wrong with me? I’ve never felt the need to be touched by a man so severely before. It hurts. I ache for him. And yet, he’s right in front of me.
I grab his hand and place it on my breast, push myself against his erection so he can feel the heat between my legs. I’m throwing myself at him like an animal in heat. But goddammit, I will not be denied this moment with him.
I practically yell at him when I say, “Fuck me like the fantasies you draw, and I promise, I’ll make you see stars.”
Chapter Four
Simon
Holy fuck. Elena Marino, the vivacious foreign woman of my ever-present wet dreams, is begging me to fuck her, and I’m just watching from outside my body like it’s some sort of pornographic fantasy.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She places my hand on her breast with a slight moan, grinds her moist pink thong against my erection, and I want so badly to give her what she wants. But she’s a beautiful work of art that I’m afraid to touch, and I’m still half-convinced this is an elaborate dream.
Elena places my thumb and my forefinger on her nipple and whispers, “Play with me, Simon. Please.”
It must be real, because her tiny peak is so fucking hard against my fingertips, her breasts so soft in my hands. I decide that if this is a dream, why not take advantage of the situation? And if it’s real, well, she’s practically begging me to touch her, to please her, to fuck her.
And I’m not generally one to let others down.
I hesitantly twist her nipple between my fingers, carefully watching her expression before me. She sucks in a breath and tilts her head back, her mouth slightly open in a half-smile.
“Do you like that?” I ask, wondering if it’s possible to be more turned on.
“Harder,” she says, eyes still closed. I pinch her more forcefully, pulling the tiny nub away from her this time. She grips the back of my neck tighter and gasps.
“Yes!” she screams.
It shocks me out of my thoughts and into the moment. If this is how Elena reacts when I’m barely touching her, I can’t wait to see what happens when I actually try to please her.
I pinch her other nipple, toying with it the same way I did the other, and Elena lets out a deep, sexy-as-hell moan. I reach around to grope her ass and decide to test the waters with a slap. Except I’m so damn nervous, I barely make contact. Elena lets out a low giggle and smirks at me.
“You won’t hurt me, Simon.” She leans forward, so her forehead touches mine. “Do whatever you want to me.” She looks into my eyes, giving me permission.
Then the Italian goddess slips my left hand under her panties. My fingers slide on her slick, wet warmth. Her lips part with the most delicate exhalation of pleasure, just as my own breath catches. She’s so fucking wet. The sensation brings my heartbeat into my ears and turns my already hard cock to steel.
In some sort of twist
of fate, I’ve been caught and trapped by my very own muse. She isn’t fragile like a painting, she’s fragile like a grenade.
And she’s not going to release me until I give in to the pure, carnal lust that’s been driving us both mad for weeks.
The sweet smell of her wet center sends me over the edge, melting the last bit of hesitation within me and setting my inner beast on fire.
Chapter Five
Elena
Simon whirls me around and pins me against the door with a new force about him. I can’t help but let out a surprised giggle as he forcibly yanks my robe past my shoulders. He kisses my neck all the way down to my exposed shoulder, tenderly caressing my skin with his lips. Just when I wonder where his tough-guy force escaped to, Simon grabs my ass with one hand and rips my underwear off with the other. I’m giddy with excitement at his newfound burst of enthusiasm.
He does want me. He just needed some encouragement.
Simon massages his warm fingers around my clit, whispering into my ear, “You’re so wet.” His voice is deep and course like gravel. It sends fiery alertness to every nerve ending on my body.
“I’m always wet for you, Simon.” I tug his shirt over his head and pull him as close to me as possible. I want to feel his body on mine, his muscles against my breasts. “I’m wet for you every day, every time I see you watching me.” I continue breathing my words to him between kisses to his surprisingly chiseled chest. I run my hands through his shaggy blond hair, and it’s the most fantastic sensation to finally be able to touch him. “Every time I imagine you touching me, it’s just like the way you are now—” I gasp.
Simon sucks on my breast, his tongue flicking my nipple, his teeth playfully biting the tiny sensitive beacon, and it sends waves of pleasure through me from deep inside. An exhilarating rhapsody unlike I’ve ever felt before. The yearning that’s been slowly building in my core and incessantly teased by my imagination is finally set free.
This is precisely what I wanted from Simon, exactly how I imagined him taking me. Against the wall, like a beast, unable to stop himself from ravaging me with pure, carnal need.
He thrusts his fingers inside me with enough force to catch my breath.
“Unh,” I moan. “Simon…”
“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is gravel, his breath hot against my neck. He’s hungry, desperate, deprived. He wants to please me. He needs to please me. This is precisely where I wanted him from the start. Desperate. Lustful. On the edge of release.
And I’m going to make him work for it.
“No,” I say. For an almost imperceptible moment, Simon falters. I pull his chin up, so he’s facing me with his deep green eyes. “I want more.”
He stiffens up, and I worry that I’ve ruined it all. Simon pulls his fingers out from me and stares into my eyes with an expression I can’t read. Is it anger? Impatience? Curiosity?
He’s breathing heavy, sweat on his chest, hair crazy eyes dark. He grabs his pants from the floor.
Is he leaving me?
Before I can protest, he pulls a condom from the front pocket of his jeans.
I catch a mischievous look in his eyes as he unwraps the tiny square. He sheaths it onto his hard length, staring into my soul while he rolls it down, agonizingly slowly.
My core tingles with anticipation, and my heart beats erratically. I haven’t felt this way since the very first time I was with a man. Simon makes me feel so alive. It’s exhilarating.
“Are you ready for me?” he asks with a knowing grin.
I smirk at his cocky expression. “Almost,” I say, eager to tease him some more. I let my robe fall to the floor. Languorously, I slide my hand down the front of me, between my breasts, past my belly button, over my perfectly manicured curly hairs, until I can feel the slippery hot wetness of my core. In a circling pattern, I massage myself with the slick heat between my legs.
Watching Simon watch me has turned me on since the very start of our connection. But now that he’s right in front of me, with his thick, veined cock hard for me and the sweat on his chest just inches away, I feel like I’m about to burst into flames.
With a seductive whimper, I pull my fingers out of me and lick the wetness from them, the whole time staring back at Simon. He lets out a guttural groan, almost like the growl of a wolf. Mmmm, I love the way I taste.
Especially when it’s on a man’s lips.
“I want to taste myself on you,” I tell him.
He gives me a dark look, an excited grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. In a single swift motion, Simon grabs me by the arms and pins me to the door with a force that feels so raw, so untethered, that I wonder if Simon is also shocked by it.
He kisses down my jawline, down my neck. He runs his hands along the sides of me, mapping out my curves in the way of an artist. Goosebumps pebble across my entire body, leaving a trail behind his touch.
Simon finally reaches my knees and separates them with a tug. I watch from above as the handsome young American kisses my very center. He sucks me into his mouth, so hard it hurts, and then laps his tongue against me, soothing me for a few moments before repeating the pattern all over again. The intensity of his movements drives me mad, pushing me toward insanity.
“You taste so good,” he breathes, tickling my inner thighs. Then he stands and firmly grabs my thick ass, pulling me up onto him with surprising strength. I wrap my arms around him and hungrily suck his lips into a passionate kiss. God, he’s right. I do taste good, especially on his hot, wet, eager mouth.
With me still pinned against the wall, Simon pulls back from our kiss, chest heaving, lips puffy, and looks into my eyes with the darkness of a long-burning desire. And then he thrusts his cock inside me.
A cry escapes my lips as he fills me to the core.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice like rocks grinding against each other. All I can do is nod, my breath totally escaping me.
He licks his thumb and reaches down, circling my clit with a calculated pressure. Searing hot pleasure courses through my veins. I’m moaning like a madwoman, my hair turning into a rat’s nest from the friction of him pumping into me, driving me up and down the wall, in short, quick repetition. I’m almost embarrassed at how quickly it takes him to make me come, but pretty soon, I’m the one seeing stars.
Simon groans into my neck, kissing the soft skin behind my ear. He’s still hard and huge inside me. It’s so fucking hot.
“More,” I whisper, out of breath.
With no hesitation, Simon carries me to the carpet in the center of the room, pinning me against the floor with his weight against my body, his heat inside me. He kisses my neck, gropes my breasts, and pumps into me like a starving lion. His movements become more and more frenzied, hungry, desperate. He’s grunting and groaning and groping, and it feels so fucking good to be touched this way.
After what feels like an eternity of euphoria, Simon comes inside me, convulsions of ecstasy contorting his body with pleasure. He rests his head on my breasts, breathing heavily, still inside me.
God, I love feeling him stretch me, filling me entirely. It almost sends me into another fit of orgasmic rapture just lying here with him.
Simon reaches down and touches my clit with his thumb. I gasp, not expecting to feel his touch so soon.
“Already wanting more?” I pant. He lifts himself onto his forearm and thrusts his hips against mine, playing with my clit and watching as I arch my back against the ground.
“You’re so beautiful, Elena,” he says. I let out a moan of acknowledgment, unable to speak without making inhuman sounds. “I love watching you.” He kisses my stomach.
Then he says, “Get on top of me.”
Chapter Six
Simon
Elena falters for a moment.
“I want to watch you, Elena. I want to watch your beautiful face and your beautiful curves as you fuck me like I’ve been dreaming of for weeks.” Even I’m surprised by the intensity of my words. It’s like she a
wakened some sort of sex-starved lunatic inside me. But the electric excitement in her eyes tells me she loves every bit of it. So I don’t question it. I let the beast take control.
Elena sits upright, flashing me a pleased grin that makes my cock feel like it might actually burst from yearning. Jesus, I’m so fucking horny I could fuck her for days on end and never get tired. This has been building for so long, the tension between us, the need for this moment. Neither of us wants it to end.
I watch as Elena climbs on top of me, wishing I could capture every frame of her movements in a never-ending flipbook in my head. She lowers herself onto me, her thick thighs squeezing me deeper into her hot center, and I can’t believe I waited so long to take action.
She is a goddess. Her skin is so hot, so smooth, so thick. There’s not an ounce of fat on her beautiful athlete’s body. I grip her hips tightly, pulling her as close to me as I can get her.
I let myself drown in the sensation of her riding on top of me. She looks down at me, smiling, as she feels her own body. She squeezes her breasts, pinching her nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Her mouth is open, and she’s moaning, whimpering, releasing all the inner sounds coming from her ongoing waves of euphoria. It drives me absolutely mad.
All those nights of drawing Elena, imagining what it would be like to be inside of her, and here she is in all her gorgeous beauty. Her tightness milks me, urging me to come all over again. I let out a deep, guttural moan.
“I knew you were an animal,” she purrs, her accent dripping from her lips. “You like to watch me just as much as I like to watch you,” Elena smirks. And then she pulls herself off of me and turns around, lowering herself once more so that now I can see her painfully amazing thick ass. “So I’ll give you the best view in the house,” she says as she rides me into oblivion.
Tempt University: Year One: A College Romance Collection Page 29