I met Wayne the week school started, and it was lust at first site.
“Don’t you live over in Hunter Hall?” he had asked me.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Me too,” he said, and we started walking across campus together, as if we’d known each other for a million years. “Would you like to come see my room?” he asked. I nodded, as if in a trance.
When we got there, I was surprised to find no evidence of roommates. “I lucked out,” he said with a devilish grin, “they gave me a single.”
“So,” I said, locking the door behind me, “we’re alone?”
He took me into his arms, and dropping his to my neck, drew his tongue along my collarbone, setting off a wave of wet, molten pleasure between my legs.
“These are history,” he said, as he undid my shorts and peeled them from my throbbing body.
“I’ve always been a whiz at history,” I replied, returning the favor and relieving him of his jeans and underwear.
“And what other subjects do you excel in?” he asked as we fell to the bed laughing.
“Today’s lession,” I said, kissing my way down his rock-hard abdomen, “is on the art of oral interpretation.” With that, I took his balls into my hand and began to masage them gently, running the tip of my tongue over the head of his -little scholar- at the same time. Wayne groaned in pleasure. His hands sought out my breasts and bottom and massages them feverishly. We kept at it this way for several moments, and I could tell by the changing tempo of his momentum that he was on the verge of coming.
“Mmm, professor,” he said, “that’s very intresting… but I think you may be missing the deeper meaning.” Gently, he lifted my head, and I released him from my mouth with a sigh.
From the drawer of his nightstand, he pulled out a condom and unwrapped it. I took it from him and slowlly unrolled it along the length of his rigid shaft, which jumped and quivered with anticipation.
He took himself in hand, using his smooth hardness to tantalize my liquid-drenched folds. “Oh, Wayne! That feels sooo good!” I crooned. Placing my hand next to his, I guided him into my love-corridor.
He plunged inside with one sweet, quick motion, and we began to ride each other in a teeming frenzy. The pace quickened, and I met him, thrust for thrust. Our passion was accompanied by moans, gasps and the soft, sucking noises of flesh on flesh. Just when I thought I could go out of my mind with pleasure, we both came in a thunderous, mind-numbing climax that made me tingle from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair.
“Well, professor,” he said with a laugh, once he had caught his breath, “if that was the introductory class, I can’t wait for next semester.”
“My courses can be pretty demanding,” I warned in a mock-serious tone. “You never know when there’s going to be a pop quiz.”
“I think I’m up for it,” he said smiling, his sated tool raising its head once more.
“So I see!” I said with delight. “So I see.”
Copy Right, Desolation – 2003
No portions of Back To School may be used without expressed, written permission.