Melinda Matson - A seductive student

"Stop moving," she said, pulling back. "Grab hold of your knees and pull them down. Do it!"

Paul obeyed her, not knowing why, not really sure that he wanted her to go on licking his ass. He pinned his knees to his chest, tipping up his crotch to her. When he felt her small thumbs sliding in between his buns, levering them wide apart, he groaned aloud. When he felt her hot breath gusting over his naked anus, he began to whimper softly. This, he knew, was what Bertrand had made her do, this was what he, Paul, was condemning her to do more of.

Without pausing, Joselyn pressed her parted lips to his wrinkly pore, kissing it passionately, shivering at the astounding heat it gave off, and the feel of it puckering beneath her mouth, then starting to lick it, lick it as Bertrand had shown her how, using long, swirling strokes.

"Ohhh! Ohhh, wow!" Paul wailed, his eyes rolling up in his head so that only the whites showed. The feeling of her hot, wet tongue laving his anus was indeed incredible. It was nasty, yes, unspeakably nasty. Therein was reason for its appeal. It made every other sensation, every other love act, gesture of affection seem pale, dilute in comparison. It was simply the ultimate. Powerful waves of warmth, delectable warmth emanated from the twitching sphincter, from the tickling, teasing tongue tip, waves that raged over his entire crotch, his testicles, his penis. Great globs of pre-cum oozed from his vigorously pulsing cockhead, pooling on his chest. The ache in his penis was gone. It had been suddenly replaced by a kind of marvelous, pleasurable glow.

If it was good for him, it was even better for her. She snuffled and snorted between his cheeks, her face burning up with fever as she both licked and sucked at the flexing ring. And there was another bonfire, too, a bonfire between her thighs. As she shifted her legs together, making the flesh high up on her inner thighs rub over the lips of her pussy, she could feel a heavy moisture, a slick seepage trickling down over her buttocks. She slipped her left hand up from his bottom, up over his scrotum. Instead of encountering a loose bag and pendulous balls, her fingers closed over something rockhard. His testicles were drawn uptight to his loins, sitting like a pair of goose eggs under the lee of his arching erection. It was time.

She pushed back from his crotch and stood up, reaching out to grab his leg to steady herself. Paul blinked at her, his desperate need for release written all over his face. She smiled at him and undid the bath towel, letting it fall to the floor.

"Ohhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhh!" he moaned, his eyes darting from the pointed peaks of her breasts to the glistening furrow, so pink, so soft, between her legs. Every hair on her cunt was plastered down by the flow of her juices and there were tiny, shiny streaks on the insides of her thighs, the wet paths left behind by the escaping lubricant.

She clambered up on the bed, clambered between his legs, rubbing the stiff points of her nipples against his chest, rubbing the sticky, seething maw of her pussy over the broad root of his cock.

"Oh, baby," he crooned, his hands slipping down around his hips, down to cup the smooth, resilient cheeks of her ass. He squeezed her ass cheeks, grinding them together, then started to roll the both of them over, to roll on top of her.

"No! No!!" she told him, pushing free of his grip. "Not that way. I want to be on top." Her voice lost its edge, grew husky, thick. "I want you to see it going in and out of me," she said. "I want you to see what it does to me."

Paul swallowed hard, then nodded. Whatever she wanted was fine with him, just fine.

She scooted up, straddling his waist, dragging her wet pussy right up over the underside of his cock. "Pick your knees up," she said. "Make me a little ramp."

He did as she asked, his entire consciousness focused on the head of his cock and the moist, pliant lips that half covered it.

She adjusted the angle of his thighs, forming a little backrest for herself, then moved back, lifting her pussy from his penis. She half-hunkered, half sat over his crotch, her feet on either side of his hips, her knees out flung, her hot cunt hanging a foot or so above his balls. She put both hands to her pussy, lifting the swollen lips apart with her fingertips, spreading them wide apart the full length of her slit.

Paul groaned as he looked into the gleaming flesh of her vagina. He could actually see, at the nadir of her gash, the round, flexing opening that was soon going to be sliding down over the head of his cock.

When Joselyn let go of her pussy lips, they remained in a peeled-back position, puckering, pouting from her fork. She reached down and picked Paul's cock up from his stomach, bending it up, aiming the purpling, bloated head at her parted slit.

As she began to stroke him, masturbating him quite hard, it took every ounce of willpower that he possessed to keep from hunching up, fucking into her milking fist. He didn't want to cum, not yet, not on her… in her.

She continued wringing out his cock with her right hand while with the left, she began fiddling around with the mouth of her pussy, rummaging among the pink, swollen folds. Then she had what she'd been searching for: her clitoris. She held the tiny marble of erect flesh between her thumb and forefinger and as she worked his thick penis through her hand, she rolled the nerve filled bud in her fingers.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, her belly starting to ripple, her pussy contracting as a minor orgasm exploded between her legs.

Paul could see her wet fingers, see the tiny node she was pinching, and he could see the effect that the pinching was having on her cunt. That round orifice at the bottom of her pussy started winking at him, fluttering open and shut like mad. The combination of that sight, the keen, foxy odor of her cunt, and her pumping hand was almost too much for him. His penis bucked against her grip, flexing so hard that he was afraid it would rip a tendon.

"Darling!" she cooed, raising and lowering her bottom against the tops of his thighs, rubbing her buttocks against his legs, bumping her pussy right down onto the head of his cock. Over and over, she did that, smacking her open cunt into his knob, smearing the broad head with her viscous cuntal juices.

It was exquisite torture for Paul. At each smack, each wet kiss of pussy to bulb, the tip of his penis was not only bathed in super-heated lubricant, but it slipped, for a fleeting instant, up between the buttery soft lips, up into the seething cleft, and then she lifted her buttocks and the delicious sensation was gone. The repeated bumping of her cunt did have a cumulative effect, though. It caused a veritable torrent of her hot juice to wash over the entire length of his cock and trickle down over his aching balls. To Paul, it felt like his cock had been dipped in heavy oil, in steaming 30-weight.

Joselyn puffed and pouted, a gamut of emotion passing across her face as she slammed her cunt down against the bloated head. That she wanted to take him inside was very obvious. Just as obvious was the fact that she was taking no small pleasure from denying herself… and him… what she wanted. She ruthlessly, mercilessly dropped herself onto him, using more and more force, more and more of her body weight, until the poor, battered mouth of her pussy just gave up the ghost, yielded, opened up, until the tip of his penis pushed through it.

The heat inside her cunt was staggering. Paul clawed at the coverlet, shivering in its fiery grip, shivering as she squirmed her pussy down over the bum of his cock. Her cunt was glove-tight, tighter than it had any right to be, and so slick that it stole the breath from his lungs.

"Uhhh! Uhhhh, it's going in!" she gasped, clutching at her own fork, digging the heel of her hand into the sweet summit of her mound. "Look! Look!!" she whined, pointing at the juncture of their bodies, at the soft pink lips gaping wide to receive his massive knob.