Mr. Johnson’s expression goes blank when he feels my hand groping his balls. His eyes roll back and his head nods in subtle apprehension.
He swallows hard to stifle a groan as his cock begins to swell in my hand. Then there is the snap of leather and his pants fall below his trembling knees.
My hands stroke his stiffening cock; my tongue wets the scruff of his chin. I go to lift his shirt. Mr. Johnson raises his arms in cooperation—in full resignation to the moment.
I guide him to the sofa, a gentle hand pressed against his chiseled features. My own panties are off before he’s even lying down.
I straddle myself over his cock, leaning over. He gasps, flinching at the cold wetness of my tongue circling his hard pecs. Manicured nails dig into tough skin, playfully scratching along his chest. I rock my hips, grinding myself between his legs.
My wetness glides on his stiff dick; fluids gush from my warm pussy, coating every inch of his throbbing shaft.
“Ungh…” Soft moans escape between rapid breaths. Mr. John’s rock of a chest heaves as my body writhes against him.
I bring his hands to my ass and he latches on with a grip tight enough to startle me. My pussy quivers at the size of him, slipping along his hard cock, longing to be filled.
“Are you ready?” I say. But I’ve lifted myself up, knees at either side of him, guiding his cock to my wet entrance before he has a chance to answer.
“Tammy?” is all he can muster. His legs are restless; his heart pounds in his chest.
I drool a bit of spit into my hand and stroke saliva on his shaft. The head of his dick presses into my folds. His dick slip into my tightness and his eyes roll back.
My back arches and we moan loud together. My nails clutch his chest like a vulture finally catching its prey.
I lower myself onto him, surprised at my sudden apprehension. Is this really happening?
But any and all thought vanishes in the moment of my lips give way to his enormous size. My walls wrap tight around the head and my whole body shudders. One hand holding his shaft, I continue to lower myself. Down, and down…
Mr. Johnson watches his dick disappear inside me. I can’t help but wince at the subtle pain of his penetration. But then it subsides, dominated by a wave of euphoric tingles running up my spine.
“Holy s—shit!” he says, holding the bulk of my round ass in a death grip. “You’re so fucking tight…”
My tongue circles the edge of my lips—I can almost taste him filling my insides. He holds my entire weight up by the ass, taking control. His girth spreads my tight walls as my slick insides lubricate the long descent.
Then my whole body spasms when his cock bottoms out at my cervix. He’s so deep I just want to scream. My fluids trickle down his shaved ball sac. My tight pussy wraps his entire length from head to shaft.
My body begins to move on its own, bucking wildly against him, relishing in the sensation of his cock filling me whole, spreading my insides apart.
Mr. Johnson lifts me with fierce thrusts into the depths of my pussy, gyrating his pelvis, drilling into me with abandon. My nails dig deep into his chest, enough to scratch the skin.
I bite down hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from screaming. Mr. Johnson impales me, again and again, like he’s splitting me in half.
And then an unfamiliar pleasure is all consuming. Electricity seems to flow out to every extremity, overwhelming my senses. My mind goes blank.
Ecstatic wails fill the room as I ride Mr. Johnson’s cock, my heart lost in a sea of orgasmic fluttering.
Sweat pools at the small of my back, trickling between ass cheeks now red and raw from Mr. Johnson’s vice. He holds me down on his cock while my body quakes against him. The tight muscles of my core contract and squeeze the enormity of his cock. Neck tilted back, my long hair clings to me. My vision blurs—a white void sweeps across my senses.
“Agh! Fuck!” He lifts me up with his powerful hands to stop himself from cumming.
Dammit! He’s so close.
“What’s wrong?” The internal tremors subside; the energy of the orgasm begins to fade.
“I’m sorry, I—“ His cock throbs beneath my legs, dribbling precum, right on the verge.
I give it a few gentle strokes, finding pleasure in the facial contortions of him trying so desperately to hold back. Mr. Johnson is at my mercy. Too bad for him, I won’t be letting him off this time—until he’s getting off inside me.
I get myself turned around, a hand resting on the arm of the sofa, my sopping pussy in front of him. I reach between my legs and spread the lips apart with two fingers, juices pouring out and running between them. I give my ass a little shake, inviting him to enter me from behind.
“Mmmm…” I moan out, fingering my sensitive clit. “I need your cum! Please!” My soggy pussy quivers and aches, pleading to be filled.
My head droops and my dark hair fails over my face. I spread my legs wide apart, and wait…
And then I feel it—His girth spreading me again, splitting me nearly in half.
Mr. Johnson goes wild with animalistic grunts, pounding into my pussy with arms wrapped tight around my waist.
My hips buck against him, working his cock, coaxing it to cum.
“Ungh!” My insides go into a fit of orgasmic tremors while Mr. Johnson humps and moans and fucks. This is it. I can feel him. Yes! Yes!
My whole body jolts when he cums inside me, his hot spunk filling my uterus.
The muscles of my core spasm uncontrollably, squeezing and milking every drop of semen from his stiff dick.
“Oh, God!” he says. The pulse of his throbbing cock beats against my walls, again and again, ejaculating his thick load into the depths of me. The warmth of his seed is comforting.
Mr. Johnson collapses his weight on top of me, slipping in the sweat of our skin. I can still feel his cock twitching inside me, emptying every last bit of sperm while he's still holding me in a tight embrace.
Our bodies writhe together, clinging to a fading orgasm. I want this moment to last forever—the moment when Mr. Johnson impregnated me.
HER BIG FILL
“That’s the last box.” My stuff jostles and clangs in the cardboard box my neighbor just set down with a thud. He huffs and wipes beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of an also sweaty hand.
Then my stomach clenches when I realize which box it is. I meant to carry that particular one up the six flights of stairs to my dorm room myself. Oops.
“What the hell you got in here anyway Tammy? Looks like you forgot to label it.” I couldn’t possibly have labeled what was in there for him to read, so I had put a little red sticker on the side to keep track of it.
“Oh, y’know…” I twirl a finger around in my blond curls, “just some old toys I couldn’t let go of.” Really naughty toys. I can’t stop myself form blushing a little at the thought. I shift my weight to one leg and avert my eyes.
I must look really nervous. “And it looks like you forgot to tape it sealed.” Mr. Peterson says, squatting to get at the cardboard flaps for a peek inside.
“No!” I rush over and place a swift hand on his shoulder to stop him from opening it. His hands freeze; he jerks his head to look up at me. He’s got a quizzical look on his face.
“What’s the matter with you?” His glasses have fallen to the edge of his nose. A strand of dark hair soaked in sweat falls just above his raised eyebrow. Mr. Peterson always looks so cute like that.
“Sorry, I just…” I shift my weight again. “It’s the nerves, y’know? All of this… it’s a lot to take in at once.” He stands up again. Phew. Changing the subject to my insecurities was a last ditch effort. Mr. Peterson has always been good at comforting me.
And it really was a lot to take in. I was finally going off to college to fulfill my mother’s dream of me becoming a doctor, or a lawyer, or something else I knew I could never live up to.
Whatever it was, my profession was supposed to make a lot of money. Of co
urse, all she could ever talk about was what she would do with all the money I made.
Like put her into a nice house along the beach, or pay for her to travel the world while I was stuck working my ass off at some stupid job I hated.
But Mr. Peterson is much more encouraging. Ever since we came to the suburbs and moved in next door, he has treated us with nothing but kindness. Because my Mom doesn’t have much money, he offered to pay my full tuition at a prestigious university like this one.
And he has always told me to pursue whatever interests me the most, instead of just what pays the most. I owe him an enormous debt for everything he has done for me.
But now that I’ve finally turned nineteen, I desperately want to show him my appreciation… with my body. Enough that I am willing to give Mr. Peterson my virginity. I want to thank him by letting him enter my tight little pussy, then fuck me until he cums inside.
Even now as we’re standing here, the only thoughts racing through my head are how much I want to wrestle him onto my small dorm bed and ride his giant cock until it squirts Mr. Peterson’s warm cum into me.
I nibble at my bottom lip and cross my legs, staring into space. Just thinking about how bad I want him inside me has gotten me a little wet.
“Tammy?” Mr. Peterson is rubbing my shoulders, trying to relax me a little. He just asked me something but I wasn’t listening.
“Mmm…” I moan softly with eyes closed. I roll my neck while Mr. Peterson massages away the tension in my shoulders. One spaghetti strap of my pink tank top falls off the shoulder. “Sorry, what did you say?”
He always gives the best massages. He has the forearm muscles to really get into the deep tissue, and he makes a point of getting to the gym as often as possible to keep them.
On top of that, he’s got a solid build all around and a six pack to die for.
“I was thinking I ought to get going soon… let you get settled in.” My eyes open wide, my neck goes stiff. God dammit, this is going to be my last chance to fuck Mr. Peterson.
Once he walks out that door he’ll be driving back home, two states away. I can’t possibly let him leave without at least offering myself to him.
I turn around to place a soft hand on his cheek.
“But… you just got here…” I put on my best puppy dog face, stroking lightly at the scruff of his cheek.
“I know, but I really should hit the road. Long way back—”
“Can I show you something first, Mr. Peterson? …Please?” He gives a sigh of resignation and our eyes lock. I bite down on my lower lip, placing an index finger just above my cleavage.
It traces its way up to and across my collar bone, then rests on the other shoulder strap that’s still in place.
Then I flash a tiny smirk, and flick it off my tan skin so that both straps are drooping at my arms. His eyes go wide in shock.
I place palms on either breast of my push up bra and shove my tits even closer together. The front of my tank top sags even lower, enough for Mr. Peterson to see the leopard skin print of my bra underneath it.
I stare at him with eyes full of lust, licking around the corner of my upper lip.
“You want to see my tits, don’t you Mr. Peterson?” His expression is one of utter disbelief.
Still, I may have caught a tiny glimpse of desire behind those eyes. I take a bold step toward him to get in closer. He is a full foot taller than me, so I have to tilt my neck way back.
With a devilish smile, I grip the cups of the bra with pink manicured nails and peel them back to reveal my perky tits. I can tell he is using every ounce of his willpower not to look down at them.
“Just one look Mr. Peterson… won’t you?” I ask, faking a pout. Keeping eye contact, I lower my chin slightly while lifting one breast up to my mouth. “I’ll even let you suck them, if you want.” I smile wide this time.
At last, I catch his eyes glancing down at my hard nipples before quickly returning to my face. He is wearing an awkward expression, as if trying to pretend he didn’t just look down.
I giggle and bring the breast all the way to the entrance of my mouth. The crimson lipstick smears around the areola as I wrap tight lips around my nipple and make wet slurping sounds. “Mmmmm… Just one taste?”
“Tammy! What the hell!” He grabs my bare shoulders and shakes me. “You know we can’t do this.”
“Mom will never have to know. She’s two-thousand miles away. It’s just us.”
“That’s not the point and you know it.” He shakes his head, looking disappointed. “Now fucking cover yourself—”
“Did you know that I’m still a virgin?” I drop my tits and embrace him, squeezing him tight. “It’s true,” I say, nodding. “I want you to be my first, Mr. Peterson…”
“Tammy, that’s not—”
“Have you ever felt the tightness of a virgin pussy?” I tilt my head back again, staring deep into his eyes. “Do you want to know what it’s like to fuck me?”
Keeping one arm around his waist, I lean back to trace my finger from his sternum down to his abs, rolling over each rippling muscle behind his tight black T-shirt.
He grabs my hand to stop me and squeezes it tight enough for it to hurt.
“Stop! Just—stop it!” He throws my hand to the side and starts toward the door.
“I know you want me.” He pauses there, halfway to the door. “You might be acting like you don’t… but that huge bulge in your jeans tells me otherwise. You can’t hide it.”
I walk up to him and reach for his arm to turn him so he’s facing me again. “I might be a virgin, Mr. Peterson, but I still know how to suck cock.”
My tongue licks all around the edge of my lips; my gaze shifts down at his crotch.
His face insists on not giving anything away, but he remains still when I dip my fingers into his pants. I shove them in until my fingertips graze the head of his cock. Mr. Peterson is growing a raging hard on for me.
I sense him trying to pull away, so I reach around to grab hold of his ass and bring him in closer.
“If you stick around… I can show exactly how much I know about giving head.” With light strokes, I tease his cock with the very tips of my fingers. “You must be dying to know if I’m a naughty little slut, aren’t you?”
With a mischievous grin, I force my hand in deeper until my fingers are wrapped around the shaft. “Ungghhh… Mr. Peterson wants a sloppy wet blowjob, doesn’t he?”
I pull my arm out of his pants and grab hold of his belt buckle while getting down on my knees. To my surprise, he doesn’t put up much resistance when I unzip his pants.
“Tammy—I—” he tries to say, but is interrupted by a hard tug at the waist of his jeans. I pull them down until they’re around his ankles and gasp at the massive tent in his white briefs.
“My goodness…” I press a finger on the largest part of it and giggle. “I never knew you were so big Mr. Peterson! I might have trouble fitting it all down my naughty little throat…” He looks just like a deer in the headlights.
He has no idea how to react. He is simply dumbfounded by my advances. It’s only natural that I should take advantage of this opportunity and give him the sloppiest blowjob of his life.
I just want to show my gratitude for everything he has done for me.
“Let’s have a little peek, shall we?” I can hardly contain my giddiness. I am finally getting the chance to suck Mr. Peterson’s cock. I cup his balls in one hand while tugging down on the elastic band of his briefs.
The swollen head emerges first as I am fondling his ball sac around in my palm. Staring up at him, I lean in close enough for him to feel my hot breath on his cock.
“Tammy… don’t—” But with a playful wink, I press the flat of my tongue against the neck of his shaft. He tries to suppress his moaning. “Uh—uhnng!” His shoulders drop and his head tilts back.
A wet trail of dripping saliva is left at the spot where I slide my tongue along his dick.
The head of it
twitches at the tip of my tongue. Mr. Peterson must really be enjoying this.
I tug his briefs down to the ankles and gasp at the magnificent size of his cock. With one hand wrapping loose fingers around the base, I guide it so the head is pointed at my parted lips.
Then I sit up straight and position myself just right, leaning in for what I was going to do next.
My lips form a tight seal around the head and he moans again. My tongue swirls around in my mouth, licking and teasing the neck while I tickle his scrotum. As my lips slide along the shaft, I shove
Mr. Peterson’s cock deeper into the slippery wetness of my throat. He moans louder, feeling the warmth of my mouth travel along the length of his dick.
Over the Couch Page 5