Crimson Crossing – Stories in Erotica

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Thoughts of Him Late at Night

He is steady asleep beside me and has been for quite some time; laying in the very same spot, very same position as in every other night. It’s as if each night is a continuum. Knowing that he isn’t a corpse next to me is rather telling. His peculiar breathing alludes to more than death happening within him. He is the only individual I know who snores in proper “dream vernacular” – whatever that means. It makes sense, to me at least, that I have used it as I have for sometime.

I’ve come to enjoy the very nights where sleep is too great an effort. I spend them listening to that intriguing breathing. Wondering if he is announcing a dream in which the fun to be had is better than the rest gained from sleeping bodies. The intimately-familiar sounds are reminiscent of the good times we’ve shared. I relive as many memories of copulation as I can. He is, of course, unaware that the unintended audible cues lead to my instantaneous climax. The result from those welcoming noises are often the last memory upon awakening in the morning.

Lately, I have made staying up late into the night a hobby of mine. His sleeping lingo coupled to the memories of us role playing sexual fantasies, catapult thoughts into physical sensations. I require not a single physical touch to feel immersed in intimacy. The feeling of being penetrated is as real as the physical action. The feeling of his ego grasped tightly in my hand following my directions gives me purpose. I want to feel like he is dispersing millions of “little hes” on my hand. The view of my hand covered in him… only to be cleaned by my very lips seconds later make me feel like a very good girl.

I can taste him, too. Both his scent before climaxing just as I can after. By now I’ve smelled his aroma enough times that a hound dog wouldn’t stand a chance against me searching for him were he lost in the wilderness. That’s how aware I am of this man, aware of the times I have attacked him. He’s nothing short of part of me.

My mouth is always opened during these ethereal nightly escapades. I eventually realized that it stays opened just the same as when performing oral whims on him. My tongue even reaches outside the mouth to meet the sensation of an invisible penis coming its way. It is as if it’s too impatient to wait the soothing that it has to reach out to grasp the pleasure. Sometimes in the morning, in that state between awake and sleep, I touch my face frantically looking to clean the residue of a night well spent. It always makes me smile to know that my face covered in semen wasn’t his physical doing, but my mental wonders.

Waking up is the most wonderful of feelings; makes it feel like I’ve been handled, having reciprocated the fight enough to defeat him at his very own game. The feeling that I’ve just been pleased stays with me throughout the morning. I look at people walk by and wonder if they can perceive my nightly rendezvous. If they can tell that sounds from a sleeping man have made me relinquish my body to thoughts of adults at play. It’s exciting to feel this way, to feel invigorated by the most of minuscule sounds.

Sleeping ManI look forward to staying awake at night. And, this isn’t just for the nights that I, all alone, fantasize about the very man that when awake leaves me panting, hurting a bit, face down laying on a pool of our very own sweat. The one, but just only complaint I face from all of this mind-boggling, is that in the morning my hair looks like I’ve been asleep. I wish for it to look, well, more physically distressed. Just like I do when it sticks to sweat or semen on my face. When strands are still around my neck and inside my mouth as if the Gettysburg battle had been a stalemate.

Before all of this… I used to masturbate, and rather often. Now I only close my eyes, listen, then feel my body being taken over by thoughts of him late at night.

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Public Dive

No disrespect intended but, my offense is far more “pardonable” than yours. Don’t think for one moment that sharing mine with you means that I agree with what you’ve done. Before I depart for good, I’ll share my wrong doing. You are a jerk! You do know that, don’t you? Any who, I’ll try to be brief.

Sunday morning I was sitting at the bleachers by the first-base-side cheering our softball squad. We were playing against Amherst College with a playoff berth at stake. It had been quite the duel up to that point. We were up at bat, down by two runs in the bottom of the seventh inning. The meat of the order was up, their pitcher was tiring. I was sured we’d capitalize on our chances in this inning.

Sexy female softball fanThroughout the game, there was this Amherst student sitting behind the catcher; obviously rooting against us. A group of people sat on the small bleacher back there trying to opaque her chant. She wasn’t sitting on the seats rather, she sat to its left with her legs ups against it. From where I was standing I had a perfect view of her. She wore a white shirt with white purple lettering in front, along with jean shorts. I turned my camera towards her and flipped a few photos. She must have noticed me because she wrote something on her VHS-sized smartphone, and pointed it in my direction. I drew as closed as my handy SLR allowed and clicked a few pictures. I turned the LCD screen on to review results, and it took no more than one digital zoom to see that it was a ten digit number. Being a mathematics major, I instantly calculated it that it was a phone number.

I took out my mobile, dialed the number… ring, ring… I looked in her direction to see her answering her phone. She heckled me on the phone. Taunting about all the bad things that Amherst was going to dish out in the last innings. I, in a moment of uncontrolled form, told her that I had something bad to give her right then and there in front of everyone. She quickly hung up, stuck her finger out at me, and motioned with her tongue the “universal” sign for cunnilingus. I ignored her because I honestly felt defeated. I am not the type of guy with quick comebacks, I’m more of a think-now-act-later sort of person. It didn’t even take an instance for me to give up hope about teasing her where it hurts, when then a message notification snapped me out of defeat.

Sexy Crotch Area of a WomanThe message was from her. Upon opening it, a frontal picture of her shorts she’d obviously just taken teased me hello. It was accompanied with a text caption that read: “you can lick that, loser(s).” I gave my roommate the SLR, grabbed my mobile device, turned its camera on and walked over to her. The sun was against my back shading her from it. I hovered over then told her — paraphrasing of course, I don’t recall much of what I said: Spread them right there, I’m taking my own picture.

I must have tickled her funny because she burst in laughter. Nearby spectators looked at us wondering what the laughter was about. I thought short and not very thoroughly, got on my knees, grabbed my mobile, pulled her legs apart, and took a photo. She didn’t say a word! What happened next…

I brought my hands down there, pulled her shorts to the side and placed me lips right against her lips. She did absolutely nothing for a good few seconds. Then, “how dare you! not here, not here” repeatedly escaped her mouth. She tried to push my face off from her, but I had my hands against her thighs almost glued to her crotch. Say what you may, but the satisfaction I tasted came accompanied with a little sweat she had worked up while seated under the sun for seven innings. I loved it! I have never been much of a clean freak when taking what I want. I wanted it to feel decadent and irreversible. I grabbed a-whole-lot-of-bunch from her down there in a sucking action; I swear I must have had half her body inside my mouth. Visions of the Cheeto’s Panther came to mind as if I was a young child gobbling down a pack of cheese doodles before my mother caught me red handed.

She gave up pushing away my head and was now holding it against her crotch. All of this took not two, tops three minutes. I got smacked on the head with, god knows what, interrupting my lewdness. Three other women created such a dynamic jolt of my body prying me away from her. Amid the chaos I got a beautiful look down at her. She was spread like a butterfly drying her wings from the night’s mist against the sun. Her shorts pushed to the side and her vulva glistening from the residues of my mouth, her sweat and secretion. She looked up in disbelief, piercing me with a devilish smile.

Security guards came, and that’s why I’m here. Two days later still waiting for my brother who purposely left me in the holding cell to teach me a lesson. He said he’d come today. That he’d be here soon. But, that’s been his story since I came in here. The good thing about all of this, aside from being kicked out of school — I didn’t really like it anyhow — is that I got her phone number, and a last message telling me that she was still wet.

I don’t know if she has been detained, nor do I remember exactly what she looks like. All I distinctly remember is her long black hair, thick eyebrows, and taste of euphoria! Once my brother gets me out, I’m heading to the softball field.

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Hands in Conflict

Frail may be the sanity that remains, but it is through memories of you… memories of us that it refuses to abandon me. The warmth brought about those very thoughts almost makes it seem that you are beside me. I cherish every image of us as if you were right here this very second. They bring nightly solace with the company of the times we’ve had. For that, I thank you! The comfort eases the pain from the danger I’m living. It is not until awakened by the ruckus of early conflict that I realize I did not fall asleep in your arms. That I fell asleep thinking of us, thinking of you.

At times I awake totally uncovered with my hand down by the secret for which Victoria is famous. Just as many are the mornings when I’m still saturated from the night’s events. I welcome the morning dew as if it were caused by your physical presence, my dear. I want to tell you about the many nights I’ve fallen asleep fighting my pleasures with digital stimulation. I start slow, as I normally do, meticulous and careful not to be seen. I use the experience gained while surveying enemy territory to hide from intruders.

Plenty have been the moments where I’ve behaved as the times when I’ve almost fallen prey to the enemy and forced to retaliate with fatal intentions: I penetrate myself unmercifully. I switch between one and two digits, turn my body face down, up again never ceasing to let my fingers stimulate my needs. I rotate my hands in circles around the sensitive area, while the other fantasizes about your greater ego penetrating me, smacking my bottom with your scrota time and again. I think of the nights when the suffocating saturation covered my inner thighs, your ego, your shaft, even your mouth. I close my eyes ever so gently to get a glimpse of your veins getting lost inside of me.

Your head disappears first, followed by the shaft until you are deep inside. The first thrust is always the most telling. In times of need as I find myself since departing your side, the thrust has been hard and deliberate enough to remind me of the times you’ve had me with little intention but to get off on me. My hand moves recklessly fast as if an anxious lover not knowing where to sooth a partner. This war has placed me in a place I thought I never be… pleasuring the fear away. I’ve done so just about every night during this, my latest, campaign. I’m sure I’ve been heard moan your name many a nights. I also don’t doubt that half the platoon has seen me body uncovered at night after falling asleep with thoughts of you still present on my hands. Voluptuous woman holding gun

I’ve purposely smacked my bottom to leave handprints as reminders of our nights of decadent care. I taste myself over and over finally realizing why you love to pull my legs apart, contour what you find there within to your tongue, and send me heaven bound. My aroma must be a permanent member of the bed sheets, my hands, my legs in the morning. I’m no child about feeling myself; just as I am not shy about it, either. I grab, I touch, I think of you in my mouth, my bottom, my front. The images arouse me into climax late, late at night, only to see me fall asleep until distastefully awakened by the sound of conflict.

I love to watch the sticky secretion tied to my fingers. I smear it about and up the separation between my butt cheeks. I’ve come to the thought that soon it will not suffice to be penetrated with my fingers as a proper woman. I will have to feel what it is that you so much enjoy about penetrating me from behind. Frail my be the sanity that remains, but be assured that it is still here because of you.

P.S: Write back, you ass….

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Eyes Everywhere

What happens here or happens there, let me tell you, there are eyes everywhere.

Whether reported, or not; be it illegal, or not; it doesn’t matter to me. I’m the eyes that see it all. When you come here, walk about there, even when you hide, know that I am everywhere.

Most days there is nothing to see. Not that there isn’t anything worth seeing, but that the events have become mundane; these days I need extra incentive.

I have time to spend, it’s a luxury of mine. I have all day just about everyday to make good use of doing nothing. I am well versed, just as I am accomplished at the task of idling.

That ability to find free time resulted in quite the spectacle yesterday. I’ve had it in my head raising ruckus the entire night. I saw the events unfold from the moment they walked through front door. Everything about those two was different, and because I have been at this game of behavioral observation, telling when muses are high and fortitude prepared is trivial.

I’ve come to learn, through some swift record reviews, that she’s older than he; not by much, but enough at their age. See, he is closer to teen-hood than he is to, say, twenty-three. She, well, she’s not close to twenty-three.

I’d like to be audacious and reveal their identity; however, I’m a person who follows the Good Lord, so I’ll keep names a secret, though I really will reveal their interactions. Glorious Idea!

They arrived much earlier than any other time in the past, especially for her. She belongs to the after-work crowd, while he’s the over-zealous type who comes in twice a day: early morning and evening. The cheesy smile on his face foretold that something was brewing. She, though, she was stoic, at least so to the untrained eye. To people like me, people with years of behavioral analysis enabling the slightest of clues to protrude, an internal battle was raging within her. What I don’t know is if the battle was to fight fear back to its place, or to defeat the desire for the young lord. I still haven’t made my mind up on that.

She wore a cotton tank-top to her belly button coupled with a pair of women’s running shorts. He was trying to impress her. Yesterday was the very first time since he’s been attending that he wore a body tight sleeveless shirt, just as were the spandex shorts hugging his lower body. Their attire gave away that these two wanted to flirt secretly. I’m sure they gathered no one would pick up their cues given that this early in the AM there is really not many people at the gym. The same ol’e usual cats day after the day; max of 8 people. This is the group that is here to workout and leave before the social crowd comes in for a before-work workout.

The couple handed me membership cards to swipe for the day’s participation, and quickly walked towards the back. I got on the phone — ring, ring — Jess picks up. “Come to the front”, I told her. She arrived promptly, allowing to head towards the control room with out missing much. I Grabbed a sit, adjusted the camera monitors in the back section of the gym, verify proper response of the zoom lenses, and waited for them to show up at the back where this fellow enjoys to workout.

Young woman in a squatting stanceThey came in, he demonstrated then explained to her proper execution of their first exercise: the squat. She tried it alone a few times, but her form wasn’t very good. He interjected and got her to do it pretty well. He kept his hands down by her waist, lowering and raising at the same time as she did. He was spotting her… alright. They did a total of five sets, then did three additional leg exercises for the upper legs before jumping on a few calf machines. The entire time the flirting went noticed by only me. My cameras followed them pretty well from machine to machine. He lifted heavy weights proving his male prowess, while she lifted light to show the innocence of a beginner.

About an hour transpired with much of the same behavior. She’d touch his arms in passing conversation, he’d smile and strike seemingly unassuming posses to better display his physique. Then, they headed over to the squat rack on last time. This time she increased the weight, and he adjusted the “spotting” stance. She got under the bar, set her feet, adjusted herself, took a breadth, unracked the weights, and down slowly. He was pressed chest to her back, hands cuffed in fist position against the mouth of her stomach. As she lowered herself, so did he, each time boldly bringing his pelvis close to her buttocks. By the last four reps his pelvis ground against her bottom.

Zoom goes the camera, she racks the barbell, he steps away, ha! The grinding motion aroused him! He tried to cover by bringing both hands together at the front, but she separated them. His penis was unequivocally stuck sideways. She must have asked him to adjust it, because in went his hand and no longer was he stuck in an uncomfortable position. She attempted to look quickly as his hand went inside his short to adjust, but he was too swift. She motioned her right fist in disappointment, then shook her head.

couple kissing in poolBecause I already knew where these two were headed, I got on the control panel, adjusted the cameras to the pool, and waited about seven minutes. First she appeared wearing a one piece bathing suit. He came in with a pair of swim trunks, and nothing else. They waved to each other from across the pool, then jumped in. They swam towards one another, chatted for a bit, then she drew close and kissed him.

What they failed to know is that I’m everywhere. Just two months ago during the renovation of the pool, I had my good friend install Olympic style cameras at the bottom of the pool. I can see who is drowning and who isn’t. She was the aggressor. Her hand blatantly pulled his swim trunks down at the front exposing him to the cameras. He reached behind her, slid both hands under her swimsuit bottom to squeeze her butt. She pulled him against her, their joint movement creating ripples in the water.

After some heavy petting, and aggressive kissing, he managed to expose her breasts. She had those perky sort of breasts that make a man want to sit back and wish she was laying in bed with residue of their encounter covering them. I wanted to reach for the intercom to inform them that they might be going a little too far in public. But, I let them enjoy the moment a little longer.

He traced them with his tongue while trying to look up at her. Her head pointed directly above them. Her mouth slightly open, water dripping from her hair, she was saying something I couldn’t discern. When I looked to the bottom-up view monitor, his left hand was at her crotch gently stimulating her. His penis was still out and about. I assure you he was about to pierce her with his whim… so, I turned the intercom system on, and said “This is not the place for that.” They quickly separated, scurrying to cover themselves. She rushed out of the pool before he did. She appeared embarrassed for someone who initially acted so audacious.

I focused on him, watching the cams wondering when he’d leave. He waited, presumably, until the excitement subdued allowing him to walk away unrevealed. By now there were a few more people at the pool.

I’m not dumb, I’ve been at this watch and observe game for too long. I didn’t randomly ask them to leave the pool to destroy my chances at a watching them…

Off go the pool cameras, and on my attention and the cams in the sauna. The fellow has never left the gym without first soaking in steam. He too, knows that there won’t be another member in that steam room for at least an hour. He’s been the only person using it this early in the AM for months.

The sauna happens to be where technological advances are most rewarding, especially to me. Low light cameras aid in the effort to maintain proper vigilance in the room. From time to time the steam is too dense to get a proper report, yet I also have the ability to take care of that. Most times really, visibility is just splendid.

He reappeared in the monitors from the direction of the men’s bathroom; still in the same swim trunks as he went into the pool. He walked towards the sauna in a rather suspicious demeanor. He was inside for a minute, then exited and waved his hand about. He proceeded to re-enter leaving the door wide open. From the hall came she… wearing one of our proprietary towels. I hadn’t realize that she wasn’t wearing anything but the towel until the sauna’s door closed.

Precisely entering the steam room, she dropped her towel on the floor, closed the door and proceeded towards him. I got a glorious frontal view. I can tell she comes to the gym less often than she should because she’s not as tight as the fit-nuts around here, but golly, that’s a magical shape dropping down from her breasts, through her navel, down the naturally shaped hair strands, culminating down at that sweet harmonious sight.

He sat directly across from the entrance, held his penis on his hand that stuck outside of the left-leg-opening of the swim trunks. He was masturbating… stroking rapidly as she approached. There was nothing said that I could capture in my investigation, just action. She walked up to him, stood up on the wooden room-long-wide bench and sat down on him. He was holding himself with the left hand marking bulls-eye. Once swift motion and in he went. She practiced squatting just as he indicated not an hour ago. Up, down, up, down letting her pelvis do all the talking.

I wished long and hard for the presence of audio in that room, but there wasn’t… there isn’t any. I had to imagine the sound of her colliding butt against his thighs. The sound of her voice as she sighed on the way down, releasing the gentlest of moans upon impact. I wanted to be a freckle on her bottom just to experience the lust mingling with the steam in the room. She, he, and I alone in a room filled with desire. That wasn’t to be! I had to watch from a distance, keep the sight of her body foreign to me even when my arousal was hers.

Today, when I close my eyes, I still see the separation dividing her butt cheeks; each bounce against his pelvis causing the muscles therein to bounce and shake reacting to the repeated encounters of skin against skin. I could have fit nicely as a third… I know she could have handled it.

From the control room I have access to adjust the steam level inside the sauna; even turn it off, which I did. The diminishing steam is almost unnoticeable when adjusted properly. Not that they would have noticed. They were so consumed with their rendezvous that the absence of vapor went unnoticed until its end. Glad I am to have turned it off when I did, too. Her bouncing body had accelerated. He squeezed her buttocks, spread them apart, smacked them often as if some sort of percussive pattern speaking of lust. Multi-Camera view of couple copulatingI was forced to setup multi-screen view in the large monitor.

Camera one captured from the small of her back down to his knees. Every detail of her rear was on my screen. I smiled at the much better view I had of it than he did, even if his penis was being stroked much more intensely than mine. Her body begged to be handled just as it was being done; perhaps even a second guy helping her feel better. I’d volunteer for the work in the rear.

A second camera pointed to her face; just her face. The look on her face when he pierced her fully brought about goosebumps in my body. The clench of her teeth, the eyes opening wide, her mouth enunciating numerous pleasures… God knows what they disclosed. The last camera pointed directly at them from above. It was the very view that gave sight to her eyes rolling back, her mouth open verbalizing pants, sighs, and moans. He stared intently at her face, perhaps from a better vantage point than mine; never did he speak, never did he allude to most of anything except watching her behaviour.

I was caught up watching her mouth, dreaming about how it would feel seducing the body I grasped stroking it ever so sweetly then, I looked to the right to the see camera one, and good lord. I was forced to zoom in closely to her ass. She was bouncing up high giving vision of his penis drenched in whitish moisture. The quick insertions and withdrawals eventually grew out of sync. She bounced off of him onto the floor, bent down and shoved her mouth hard into his pelvis. He grabbed her long hair, captured hair strands as if about to guide her, but he simply wanted to feel her head move up and down. She swallowed that thing as if celery at a wedding reception. She didn’t make him climax, though.

She stood, turned around, leaned over for him to see her; he drew close and ran his tongue right smack down the separation of her butt cheeks. It was an event short lived because he stood up, grabbed her by the hips, and holy be it all, that the third camera gave a view of the attack. He hit her hard and steady. Her legs totally locked, both hands on the floor, his hands pulling back while his pelvis thrusted forward. That boy looked up at the camera as if he knew I was watching but, all he did was open his mouth and hold steady in place while fully inside of her. She rocked her pelvis rapidly against him, he never opened his eyes until she pulled away from him. He looked at her, raised his hand behind her neck and pulled her forward for a kiss.

I noticed when her hand went down to her crotch, he didn’t. When he pulled away from her she was still touching her crotch. He looked down, she pulled her hand away and showed him the semen on her hand. I, though, I was delighted by a close-up of her ass from behind. The alluring drip emerging from inside of her caught all of my attention. It held on tight to her in an attempt to prolong the pleasure of being with her.

The boy came out of the sauna first, looked around, then called her outside. She rushed to the ladies’ room, he to the men’s. I stayed where I was for about twenty five minutes longer… doing my own thing. I thought they had already left, but they hadn’t. Minutes after I reached the front desk, they came out smiling, trying to look innocent. I waved hello and politely greeted them. As they walked by, I handed them a memory disk. “You’ll like what’s inside,” I said.

She never returned. I suppose he never cared much because he still comes and talks to me a lot. Even thanking me for the little present.

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Professor Robinson

Mr. Robinson from the Movie, The GraduateDr. Robinson: As I see it, you have three options if you’d like to graduate on time, Benjamin. You must restart, update, or reach a non-related to the dissertation agreement with me. It’s due in a month. It is up to you how to proceed.

Benjamin was fully cognizant that a month’s time wasn’t enough to neither correct, or begin a new dissertation. It had taken him months to get this far! He wondered why, after all the supervision sessions leading up to today’s, did she wait until now to tell me that the thesis isn’t good enough to even be graded? There really wasn’t any three choices. The feasible decision was to reach an arrangement, both he and she knew that. With a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity upon graduation, what was he to do? Outright fail by trying to update or restart the thesis?

Benjamin: I feel like I’m behind the eight ball. I don’t have but the choice imposed upon me; let’s examine the alternate plan.

Dr. Robinson: How bad do you want to graduate? If you are anything like I was, you should be willing to do just about anything to enter the “real” world. Either that, or spend another year here; and, I’ll make sure of that.

Benjamin: I’m pretty sure I want to graduate this year. I have to. My family has pulled a lot of favors to get me a job upon graduation. If I fail, the chance won’t be presented again. I’ve been warned about it.

Dr. Robinson: I tell you what. Go home, read that dissertation over, ensure that your best option isn’t to update or start it over. We’ll reconvene here in my office at Levermore Hall tomorrow. I’m here by 9AM. You may come anytime after that up until noon.

That night Benjamin didn’t sleep reformatting, correcting grammatical errors, even adding substance to his dissertation. By four fifty AM, seven cups of black coffee, he had given up. He didn’t think much about what the alternative presented to him could be. At worst, he thought, grading final exams and papers, perhaps carrying some books for the professor, even if he had to bring her donuts and coffee each morning.

He fell asleep on the study desk to awaken bathed in stress at around 10 AM. He gathered himself, took a bath, got dressed, grabbed his dissertation, toss it in the garbage and left to meet with the professor. The walk from the dorm to the office was about 15 minutes. He walked it the same as any other day, accompanied by the sounds of whistles into the wind.

He mockingly greeted a few of his classmates before entering Levermore Hall. He walked up the stairs to the third floor, took a left a the top towards her office, the proceeded a few feet to her door. He’s welcomed in, asked to have a seat: “Well, what’s it going to be, Ben?” It took no time at all to inform her that he’d selected the alternative path to graduation.

Dr. Robinson: Close the door for me, will you.Return to your seat and lets enter the arrangement.

The door closes, Benjamin turns around to the view of the professor sitting on the desk with her right leg crossed over the left, and skirt raised to her crotch. Her panties had question mark patterns throughout. She didn’t bother saying much.

Benjamin quickly nodded in agreement as if hypnotized by the question marks on the undies. The professor had very long and strong legs. And her scent was reminiscent of the unknown, had he been in a better mental conditions, he would have quickly familiarized himself with the scent.

Dr. Robinson: I’m going to tell you how this is going to work. You tell me when I should stop, and how far you want to go.

She stands up, walks over to the smart board. Stands with her legs spread apart accentuating her shapely calves, and draws her skirt up to waist level. She faces the smart board and starts to add line items. She talks while writing, assuring him that he could still go back to his paper and fail if he wishes.

Dr. Robinson: See this ass — smacking herself on the left cheek; you can have it, maybe, if you go through with every choice I give you. If you complete them all to my satisfaction, you get both a grade “A”, and me. You are currently failing, so I think you should be pleased about this option.

On the board it read:
F = Be gagged with a “gag-ball”.
D = Digital stimuli.
C = Masturbation with digital simulation.
B = Once you climax, I’m going to collect it, smear it throughout my vulva, my ass, then force you to lick it clean.
A = If you like what I propose, and I enjoy how you’ve handle it. You get to tie my hands behind my back, and return the favor.

Dr. Robinson: You don’t have to masturbate me. You can use whatever you are packing, that is showing erect on your pants right now, and shove it anywhere you want. Also note that it’s not pick one or the other. To get to a higher grade, you must first pass the lower grade.

Benjamin: Can we talk about this first? I’d like to shift things around, if I can.

Dr. Robinson: The door is right behind you. You don’t come in here with suggestions. You take note of what’s on the board, and be ready with the answer tonight after my last class. I’ll be right here. You may leave now, and close the door behind you.

Benjamin is one people whose never met a smart person, he finds a flaw in everything, and everyone. But he had always been at the mercy of the attractive and dominant Dr. Robinson. At the University, it was well known that there was no leniency in her world. Because of her looks, she was the most demanded adviser in the faculty. From geeks to athletes, they all wanted to say that Dr. Robinson advised them.

He spent the entire day debating one thing: If he could be digitally penetrated. When it did happen, would he enjoy it enough to turn homosexual? He pondered about the idea over and over. Hours he spent on his bed looking up at the ceiling with the sight of the professor’s bottom in his mind. To get a piece of her; he thought risking heterosexuality was worth it. So he got up, had a small snack, took a long shower, “I’m going to masturbate just to last longer” — he thought, then got dressed in a sweat suit. Easy on, easy off was the idea. He was shooting for an “A”, and there was no holding him back. He went in and out of scenarios about how badly he was going to shove his penis inside the Dr. He was going to bound her hands to the desk, put her on her knees and have her swallow him up to the scrota. He came up with the idea to shave himself to appear bigger. He feared that in her years of experience she was going to find him small, which he sort of was…

Gagging DeviceWhen he opened the door to Dr. Robinson’s office, there was a digital recorder, bright lights, handcuffs on a seat, as well as a gagging device with a red ball attached at the center. The professor wasn’t around. But a note read, “Sit and wait for me.”

It took about 20 minutes for her to return to the office. She was held up by the dean of school.

Dr. Robinson: How are you, Benjamin. Do you have a grade in mind?

Benjamin: I do!

Dr. Robinson: Care to share the grade and why you’ve selected it?

Benjamin: I’ve had no other thoughts than your bottom in my mind. And, if I’m going to work this hard to have a shot at valedictorian, I’m going to do it thinking that I also violated every rule in the conduct policy of the University; getting a piece of you, of that fine “onion” that upon seeing it just makes me want to cry, is what I want.

Dr. Robinson: Fair enough. Let’s review the grades and their actions. By the way, because you speak so eloquently of wishes, I’ve just decided to updated the actions tied to one, or maybe more of the grades. Hope you don’t mind. Remind me about grade “F”, oh, yes. Gagged and I just appended to it, handcuffed.

Benjamin: How do we start?

Dr. Robinson: Shut up! Undress! I’m going to strip down to my undies. I’ll remove my bra as well. Once gagged and handcuff, I’m not stopping. You better be positive this is what you want. On second thought, sign this here paper stating you are willingly entering this arrangement.

Benjamin: Why shall I do that?

The professor turns her back to him, leans over, and asks him to come touch her. Anything he wants to feel. Benjamin walks over, puts both his hands on her buttocks, and lightly spanks them.

Benjamin: Ok, I’ll sign it! That’s what I want, to have intercourse with you… more so than the means to get there.

Sexy Professor's Mid-SectionHe strips down to nothing but his socks — no need to remove any underwear, he didn’t wear any. The professor switches on the video camera along with the spotlights. The focus is on her desk with mounds of paper all about it. He’s already aroused by seeing that the professor does not look like the rest of her colleagues. She’s closer to one a female athlete than she is to any professor. She’s not young, but she’s not elderly either. She’s somewhere in her late forties, early fifties. Her physique has handled the passing of time well. The signs of maturity present on her face speak of just that, she knows what she wants and how to attain it, while her body reeks of decadence.

Dr. Robinson: Back to the “F”. Lay on the desk face up, and place the hands to each side. Do you need further description? You don’t get it? As if you are Jesus the Christ about to be crucified. The desk isn’t long enough for you, so bend your knees, and put your feet flat on it.

Before Benjamin moves, the professor grabs the gagging device and approaches him. His eyes opened wide, instantly perspiring.

Dr. Robinson: Oh, don’t be shy. Here let me show you how my mouth feels. I’m going to bite your lower lip, then get on my knees and swallow you for quick second. Give you a taste of what I can be like.

So she does as described. Benjamin is no longer sweating. He’s now looking down enjoying the time it took for her mouth to cover him, then quickly withdraw. It’s obvious that his heart has stopped pumping blood everywhere else in his body simply to direct it towards his average-size penis. The head is considerably wider than the body, Dr. Robinson comments on him not being exactly what she expected, but it will have to do. He responds with a cliché that gets him slapped and hushed instantly.

Dr. Robinson: No, no, no. You don’t get to speak anymore. If you are going to taste the secret, penetrate the secret, you’ll have to take it like you men love to tell us women to take it.

The gagging device goes around his head, the ball fits his mouth perfectly. Benjamin now has no option but to listen. He can only speak through heavy nostril exhalations. He might not want to, but his eyes too, will speak for him, telling the professor of his feelings on the matter. It feels like hours to him, the moment it takes to be gagged and walked over to the desk. The incoherent noises speak of the proper engagement of the gagging device.

After laying down as instructed, two sets of handcuffs bound him uncomfortably immobile. The papers on the desk were never cleared, which added to his discomfort by preventing a totally flat surface.

Dr. Robinson: Ah, you look adorable, really, Benjamin. You must have a look… laying on my desk, naked. Yet, you are still failing. That was your “F”. Tell me how it feels to be underway to a passing grade? Oh, I’m sorry. You can’t speak. Say, it’s time get to studying. Don’t mind me, but I just noticed that you are smaller than I expected. I do hope you didn’t freshly shave for me. Expecting me to be delighted by the “optical” illusion that you are bigger than you really are. What a shame! It’ll have to do, you’re all tied up already. What was the “D” again? Oh, yes. Digital stimuli! One of my favorite words, I have you know, Benjamin: “stimuli”. Spread the legs nicely my little pupil. Spread them without shame, I like the feeling myself.

Out of the desk drawer comes out this tube with the label covered by its price tag. Legible is the “-ese” part of the name. Benjamin’s head is off the desk looking down at what’s going on. The professor pours the agent sloppily on her hands. It drips all around his thighs. She apologizes, saying that she’s a tad messy handling liquids, then proceeds to kiss his inner thighs closely to his crotch. While kissing him, she brings her hand around his right thigh and starts to massage him ever so closely to his bottom. His glutes-clench raising his buttocks up and down from time to time in fear of the unexpected. His nerves were getting the best of him but, the ball shoved halfway down his mouth just didn’t allow eloquence to express how it truly felt.

Dr. Robinson: Here, look at me.

He looked down at her, and as she swallowed him, in went her index finger. He was so concentrated by being inside her mouth that he failed to realize the ease by which she slipped inside him.

Dr. Robinson: There, there, honey. I think you might be ready to go up a grade. Say… we work towards a “C”? Aw. How easy was that!

She had her right hand underneath his right leg, and her left hand jerking him. The harder she shoved her hand down the shaft, the harder she pushed in with the right. Benjamin couldn’t look anymore. Had the indistinguishable sounds been proper verbiage, the warnings that he was about prematurely ejaculate would have escaped. But the only sign of pleasure was that of the aggressive sound of air rushing out of his nostrils. Before she even became excited about the prospects of what she was about to do, Benjamin was shooting about. He dripped everywhere.

Woman Licking Ice Cream from Her HandDr. Robinson: Boy, dear boy. But, you appear to have been backed up. Here, look at you on my hand. That was quick work for a “C”. Let’s see, what was grade “B” again? Oh, yes! I’m going to collect as much as I can to smear it about me. Ah, I bet you enjoy the sound of that.

His eyes opened wide as softballs. Had he been a slug, they would have also reached far out of his face towards her.

The professor brought her hand to her mouth and cleaned some of the residue off of if. With that same hand, she reached down, pulled her underwear to the side, and sat on the semen spread about his abdomen. In a grinding motion she collected every drop she could. Those remaining on her hand, she smeared on her ass; the view stopped time.

She walked on the desk and stood over Benjamin’s face; each foot to one side of his face. It was time to remove the gag ball. Dr. Robinson leaned down, reached behind his head and unsnapped the lock to the leather-belt.

To be breathing heavily, Benjamin was very calm. He didn’t say a word; his eyes were fixated up at the professor’s crotch, admiring his residue against her vulva. He wasn’t given chance to catch his breath. She squatted down and slapped him across the face. He looked up at her; “What the F…”, another slap interrupted him. “Sh, Sh, Sh, no talking, remember!”, said she. He was at a loss, he tried to move but his arms were tightly bound against the desk preventing him from moving much.

Dr. Robinson: The work to earn grade “B” is pretty simple my dear boy: lick me clean!

Once again she slapped him, but this time harder than any she had before rupturing his bottom lip enough to bleed. She sat on his face, and by sitting on it, it wasn’t a slight hover giving him the freedom to frolic as he wished. No, this was a forced shove of her secret on his face. She rubbed it back and forth, sideways, even up and down slapping him with her secret right on the mouth. She stood up for a minute to admire his face reflecting the combined fluids of his saliva, semen and her secretion. His eyes were teary, not from crying, but from the inability to breath from time to time when she pressed harshly against his face asking for a brutal suck.

She sat on his chest, looked at him dead in the eyes, reached down to his face, and bit his lip drawing blood again. While biting his lip, she rhetorically asks, “is your dissertation worth an ‘A’?” He tries to speak once more, and this time he’s hushed by a squeeze of his testicles.

Dr. Robinson: I warned you not to speak one too many times, my student. But, here. I’ll make you feel better.

She scooted down his stomach towards his knees, suffocating his penis with her bottom until coming to rest on his knees. Her mouth came towards his scrota… He gasped, gasped and gasped, and she had yet to put him in her mouth. When he thought he was about to enter deep in her mouth…

Dr. Robinson: Oops, Benjamin! Is that your anus I feel? I’m sorry! I wanted to review some of your grades.

She digitally stimulated looking straight at his eyes. He was enjoying it, enjoying it a little too much. So she decided to make him feel better. She grabbed him and slapped him against her mouth. “Are you going to come again, young mister? I’ll put you on my mouth and make little-you try to reach back at my throat.” Not soon enough does she finish her words that she manages to simultaneously push two fingers in him. He almost died and had to speak: “You are going to make me cum.”

Dr. Robinson shoved him in her mouth all the way in. He moaned like a woman being stimulated in the sweetest of spots, then she withdrew it from her mouth, pulled it down towards his knees and released it to slap against his lower abdomen. She again stood over his face. This time inserting her finger inside her, followed by slow sucks of the finger.

Dr Robinson: Had you not spoken, you would have fucked me. Take the “B” and get out of here. Except, you’ll be getting to your dorm wearing only your sweat-top. Disagree?

Benjamin: I do not. Release me. But, I want to request you to turn around. Please, let me masturbate looking at you.

Dr.Robinson: I’d do you one better. You sound so cute begging for more.

The professor released him, then pushed him against the wall. Turned around for a minute so that he could admire her. She was sweet enough to spread herself apart with her hands so that he could see the rainbows of pink in colour. Then, to his surprise, she slapped his penis between her butt cheeks, and roughly moved up and down until he came again.

Before he realized that his dissertation had take a turn for the best, he was pulling the sweat-top down to cover himself on the way back to the dorms… the happy boy had forgotten about all the work wasted on his thesis.

Dr.Robinson: Poor fool. Doesn’t he know nobody ever reads those!