Erotic Teacher

by Skye Reed

  Her pussy lips were snuggled between her legs, as delicate as a blooming rose. My cock strained against my pants, pulling a wince from me at the slight flare of pain. I silently reached down and slowly unzipped my fly, not making a sound. I pushed my boxers down and grabbed my shaft firmly, biting back a groan. I moved my hand slowly up and down, wanking at the sight before me. She reached over one shoulder to run the soap over her back, giving me a glimpse of sideboob, no tit, though.

  My eyes travelled back to her ass, glowing from the soap and water, the suds gathering. Her long legs stretched out beneath her, and I thought of all the positions to tie them in while I fucked her. My hand moved faster along my cock as I imagined burying myself into her beautiful cunt. I would torment that clit while thrusting into her, making her beg and scream my name. I'd drink her juices and tongue her fuck-hole. My cock tensed at my thoughts, my balls aching. Then she turned around.

  Her tits were generous. Very generous. They were perky, and stood proudly from her chest. They were more than a handful. Her areolas were wrapped around her nipples, which were peaked. They were a sweet pink color. She was at least a DD. I could see the front of her body now, my eyes once again trailing south to behold a completely bald pussy. Good. Bald cunts are my favorite.

  I could feel my mouth watering as I took in her entire body. She hadn't seen me perving from beyond the doorway. Excellent, my fingers between her legs will be a shock.

  Quickly but silently, I stripped myself of everything but my boxers, leaving my clothes out in the hallway as I stepped through the door. Vanessa won't be home for another hour. Plenty of time to make Bree squirm on my fingers.

  My footsteps were silent as I approached Bree, I could hear her humming to herself. She had left the shower curtain open under the belief that the door was shut. I was so close now that I could see the ripples in her muscles as she continued to sudd herself up. Her neck was inviting.

  I shoved my hand between her shoulder blades, roughly forcing her up against the tiled war. Before she could scream, my other hand had wrapped around her mouth, effectively shutting off all of her sounds. She started to struggle, trying to fight back. I love a good struggle. I shoved myself against her, my cock pressing between her ass. If I removed my boxers, I could be inside her in one swift movement. Not yet.

  Her eyes grew wide and frantic as she continued to push against me, but only succeeding in rubbing against my cock even more. Her hands reached behind her, trying to push me off of her, but my body held her still. There was nothing she could do. As she realised this, her struggles eased off.

  When she was still, I leant forward and said, "Now, isn't that easier?" pushing against her harder to make my point. She whimpered and muffled something through my fingers. "What was that?" I moved my hand to turn off the water, and then grasped her jaw.

  "Please," she whispered.

  My cock twitched again. She noticed and let out a groan.

  "Do you like the feel of my cock against your perfect ass?" I started gyrating against her in a steady rhythm. "Do you like how it fits perfectly between your cheeks, sliding up and down?"

  She shuddered. "Please," she repeated, a lot more breathy.

  "I can make you feel amazing," I growled, biting her ear. She let out a cry. "I can make you come so hard you'll forget your own name."

  No response. Her eyes were now closed, and her chest was rapidly rising and falling with her breath.

  I reached between her and cupped her mound. She yelped at my unexpected touch, and tried to push away. I dragged a finger up and down her slit, feeling her slickness. "You're enjoying this," I said, continuing to trail my finger. I steadied my finger at the entrance to her pussy, feeling her twitch at my touch.

  "Please don't," she gasped, "This isn't right!"

  I paused. "I'll make you a little deal," I forced her to look at me. Her hazel eyes were a mix of lust and fear. "I'll make you come as many times as I can within the next half hour, without burying my cock in you, and you can decide whether you want to take this further."

  She swallowed, staying silent.

  "Deal?" I growled.

  "D-deal," she whimpered.

  I gave her a predatory smile as I sunk two fingers completely inside of her. She jerked away at the rough intrusion and swore, my body pinned her to the wall. I held her gaze as I slowly pumped my fingers in and out of her tight cunt, drawing each stroke out for as long as I could. She was moaning in no time, her eyes closing as her mouth opened at the feeling of my fingers.

  I started moving faster, my thumb pressing up against her clit. She swore again. I curled my fingers inside her, on a search to find her pleasure spot.

  She came as soon as my fingers brushed against her g-spot.

  "Oh FUCK!" She screamed as she bucked against me, knees going weak as her pussy clamped down. I held her up as I continued to rub her spot, my thumb circling her clit. Her orgasm was prolonged by my never-resting fingers, and a second wave hit. She cried out as her body started to shake in pleasure, her pussy pulsating.

  I stopped only to let her catch her breath.

  After a few moments of trying to even out her breathing, she looked up at me through tear-stained eyes. She really had just came hard. "Please," she said with a shaky breath, it seemed to be her favorite word. "No more. I-I can't - t-to intense,"

  I smirked at her. "But you still have another twenty-five minutes."

  Bree

  He slammed me down hard against the bathroom counter top, my breasts stinging at the harsh contact. My mind, and body, still reeling from the orgasms he had just given me. He took his hands off my body and let me lay there.

  I couldn't believe what I was doing, what we were doing. He was my sister's boyfriend, and here we were, him forcing me into incredible orgasms, in her apartment. It was wrong, so, so fundamentally wrong. I was spitting in the face of eighteen years of sisterhood, of friendship, of unconditional love, all for the sake of a few orgasms.

  I cried out as his tongue licked up my slit, all thoughts of Vanessa instantly vanishing. He licked slowly, tantalizing my quivering mound, lapping up my juices. He circled my clit and my pussy clenched, aching to be satisfied again. When he sucked my clit into his mouth, I screamed.

  "Ah fuck yes!" I shoved back against him, only to get a slap on the ass. I whimpered at the sting.

  "Don't. Move," he said darkly, his voice somehow not muffled by my pussy, the vibrations making it ache even more.

  He suctioned my clit into his mouth, gently biting with his teeth, his tongue roughly flicking it up and down. I lasted all of ten seconds before I came again, harder that before. I fought against the instinct to push back against him, screaming out his name as I shattered around him.

  When my orgasm was over, and he had stopped his assault on my clit, I looked up into the mirror. What I saw would have been enough to knock me breathless had I not already been so.

  His head was buried between my ass, the curve of my cheeks caressing the side of his head, his light hair gently tickling my skin. His hands gripped my hips, leaving red marks that will likely bruise. My own body was covered in a light layer of sweat, still wet from my shower, parts of my hair had fallen out of the bun I'd put it in.

  We looked sexy.

  I moaned as he started moving again, meeting my gaze in the mirror. He gave me that damned smirk again before burying two fingers deep inside me again. My eyes rolled back as I came instantly, clamping around his fingers. He held them there until my orgasm subsided, and I opened my eyes to that smirk in the mirror again.

  "You will keep your eyes on mine," he instructed, "you may not look away until I allow you to come again."

  "Allow me?" I asked softly.

  "You may not come unless I give you permission. You must control the urge, no matter what."

  His control was sexy, and my pussy quivered in response to his dominance. I nodded my head in agreement.

  He started to pump his fingers in and out again, while his other
hand moved to grasp my left breast. He pinched my nipple, causing me to cry out his name. "Fuck!" I yelled as he twisted, pulling my tit out tight. It stretched as far as he could pull it, the pain a different feeling to the pleasure emanating from my pussy. He let go of my nipple, letting it violently snapped back, and I yelped out again at the sensation.

  He added another finger, forcing himself deeper inside of me, stroking every inch of my pussy walls that he could reach. The pleasure was insane, and I held myself back from riding back against his hand. My heavy breasts were now swaying back and forth, gently hitting the skin bellow them with the momentum from his finger fucking.

  His thumb circled my clit, before pushing down hard against it. I cried out, knowing I was close to another blistering orgasm. His eyes bore into mine, their soft blue had hardened into a frenzied pool of lust and fucking.

  "Please!" I cried, hating how much I'd used that word today. "I'm so fucking close," I moaned, his fingers stroking every which way.

  The Cell Phone Lot

  It was a crisp, clear fall evening as I made my way to the airport seventy five miles away to await the arrival of my wife from her trip to the west coast to visit college friends. My last check of the airline app indicated that the flight was on time and she would be arriving close to midnight after a week-long "girls' trip" that had included sun and surf, shopping and the consumption of lots of "grape." My last conversation with Ellen had occurred earlier in the day as they said their "good byes" and started the journey home.

  Cell phone lots have become a norm at airports throughout the country since 9/11 as a way to keep vehicles from congregating at arrival gates fearing the ability of a terrorist to get close to the terminal with his or her weapon of choice. As a result, traffic around airports did seem to be less congested except for the few who made the circuitous route around the airport hoping for perfect timing as the arriving passenger exited baggage claim as the driver passed. I, for one, am happy to pull into the cell phone lot, roll down my windows, turn up the radio, and enjoy the solitude that seems to escape me.

  Returning to the Midwest from the West coast, Ellen's flight was four hours so there were no calls or texting until she landed to let me know I could make my way to pick her up at baggage claim. So I found my parking space in the cell phone lot and settled in to await the "landed" message.

  The night sky was bright and the moon full. I had stopped for a soda and was prepared to enjoy a perfect evening. Cars were coming and going from the lot as loved ones and colleagues arrived. The lot was never full, but as time passed, fewer and fewer cars remained as the last of the day's flights arrived.

  It had been a short while since the last car joined me for the wait when a sporty car rolled into the lot. The solo driver circled the lot a time or two as if looking for the perfect spot when she pulled into the space next to me facing the opposite direction so that our driver's side doors were adjacent to one another. Glancing out my open window, I saw the driver to be a thirty-something redhead wearing a yellow sweater that revealed her neckline and most of her shoulders. She wore her hair short; stopping at the jaw line, and it had a natural curve or wave to it and appeared to be slightly damp. I caught myself staring and jerked my head back to the right to avoid being caught ogling this auburn-haired gem.

  "Excuse me," she, said as I thought I had been caught in my admiration.

  "I'm sorry," I responded with an unnecessary apology although knowing my eyes had lingered on her image a bit too long. "Can I help you?"

  "I saw your window was down and I thought it would be easier to ask for your help. My cell phone is dead and I'm driving my husband's car. He must have packed his car charger. His flight is due anytime and, well, I can't sit in the cell phone lot without a cell phone." She shared and finished with an apologetic smile of her own. "Do you have a charger?"

  "I do, but it's one of those pads that is part of my console. If you'd like to give me your phone, I'll give it a charge," I offered while realizing I'd just asked a stranger to turn her phone over to me.

  Again, the apologetic smile appeared as she asked, "Would you mind if I sat in the car while it charged? I'm expecting a call, and well, you know, phones have a lot of stuff on them."

  Surprised at her willingness to join me in my car, I was happy to oblige and I scurried to move the accumulation of mail, CD jewel cases, and a newspaper that was stacked in the passenger seat. As I completed my cleanup effort, she appeared at the passenger side door. The yellow sweater barely reached the waistline of the yoga pants she wore and that enhanced her long legs and athletic ass. I reached across and opened the door from the inside and she plopped into the seat next to me as she extended her hand and introduced herself.

  "Hi, I'm Lili with two 'L's' and two 'I's'," she declared in an introduction she had obviously practiced her entire life.

  Appreciating the bounce in both her voice and her sweater, I countered, "I'm David. Pleased to meet you Lili with two 'L's' and two 'I's'," as I took her phone and placed it on the pad for charging, and she cozied into her seat.

  Without prompting, Lili began to share her circumstances. She was married and her husband traveled for his work. He had been on the west coast for the past two weeks and he was to arrive just before midnight. She had lost track of time and had showered and thrown on some clothes with no time to dry her hair and fearing she would not be on time for his arrival which would not sit well with him. Her drive to the airport was about the same distance as mine but from the other side the state. The cell phone had died in route to the airport and she had pulled into the lot in search of a "friend" who might charge her device. Luckily, I am the chosen friend.

  As a few more cars pulled out of the lot, I asked, "What flight is your husband's?"

  "Delta 3269 from San Francisco." She answered.

  "What a coincidence! My wife is on the same flight." I exclaimed realizing as I spoke that I had shared my status as a married man and that it probably wasn't that much of a coincidence inasmuch as we were sitting in a sparsely populated cell phone lot late in the evening.

  "Oh, you're married? I didn't see a ring," she observed.

  Hoping to redirect the conversation, I checked the app for the first time since arriving and saw that Delta 3269 had been rerouted. Without comment, I called Delta to get more information as Lili looked on curiously.

  Ending the call, I told Lili what I knew. The flight had been rerouted due to a mechanical issue and was scheduled to land in St. Louis. The airline hopes to correct the problem. Changing to a new plane was not a viable option due to availability. For now, passengers were being told that they would reach their destination later tonight but to expect at least a two hour delay.

  Lili did not appear to be upset by the news as she picked up her phone to check the progress of the charge. She made a call that went directly to voice mail and she left a message.

  "Hey, it's me. I'm at the airport. I know about the problem. Call me when you land in St. Louis and give me an update. Bye."

  Taking Lili's cue, I made a call to Ellen and left a similar message. As I ended the call, I looked up at Lili as she spoke.

  "My phone has enough charge now and I could go back to my car, but I hate to sit over there alone, I'm certainly not driving back home, and I can't go anywhere looking like this!" she barked as she grabbed her sweater and pulled it away from her body to emphasize her dress and inadvertantly giving me a glimpse of more of her alabaster skin.

  "You are more than welcome to stay. I'm enjoying your company and it would make no sense for me to return home either. We may as well get comfortable. It looks like we'll be here for a while." I agreed as I watched the lot empty as others, having received similar news, left Lili and me to ourselves.

  With the extended delay now a reality for both of us, we settled into conversation as if we were old friends or a couple on a first date looking to find all the right connections. For the first time I took the time to look at my guest and fully absorb her prese
nce. She was lovely and as one with a passion for redheads, I was grateful for this happenstance. As the night had gotten cooler and with the windows still down, I was greeted by her erect nipples pressing at the fabric of her sweater and revealing that in her haste to leave for the airport she had dispensed with wearing a bra. Her nipples stood proudly on breasts that I estimated to be a "C" cup and not really needing a bra at all. When I noticed she had caught me making this assessment, I smiled and she appeared to welcome my obvious appreciation.

  I told her that my wife was returning from a girl's trip and that we had found that after twenty years of marriage we needed these breaks. Our respective getaways had no rules other than to share our encounters with each other when we returned. I knew that two of my wife's college friends are bisexual and I looked forward to hearing of their exploits. I know that Ellen enjoys their attention and is more than curious. In her absence, I had been somewhat of a bachelor.