Rebecca Butler - Freshman nymph

"I didn't do anything wrong by coming over to your apartment, did I?" she asked very ingenuously, taking a chair and crossing one smooth shapely leg over another. "I only wanted to return your books, so I looked up your address in the school directory and came over."

"Give up on Egypt already?" he joked.

"Oh, no!" she said earnestly, leaning forward. "I read them both last night. They were just fascinating. I think ancient Egypt was such a lovely civilization."

He nodded with a smile. "It's one of my favorite periods, too." The aroma of beef and vegetables drifted out of the kitchen and sprang Dave back to reality. "Say," he went on, "I was just fixing some supper. Care to join me?"

She frowned slightly and he thought she was going to say no. "Well," she began, "I really-of course, I am kinda hungry," and a smile transformed her frown into purest natural beauty. "If you really want me to-"

"It's Chinese," he warned her. "One of my vices. Put me near a wok and some bean sprouts and a couple of water chestnuts, and I go wild. But nobody's ever gotten ptomaine from my Cantonese cooking yet."

And in a few minutes both of them were at his kitchen table, attacking beef and vegetables with chopsticks, sipping at cups of black tea. Afterwards Becky insisted on doing the dishes and Dave felt it was only fair for him to dry. When the cleaned utensils had been stacked away in the cupboard, the young instructor and his favorite student made their way back into the living room, where Dave prepared his second specialty of the house, what he claimed was the finest martini known to man. Becky sipped appreciatively at hers and they chatted awhile.

She accepted a second drink, then excused herself to go to the bathroom. Dave finished his drink while she was gone, and found himself wondering exactly what the hell had brought her over here tonight. After all, tomorrow was her class day with him, and she could have returned his books just as easily then. Did she have some ulterior motive?

He had just convinced himself that her visit was ordained by God himself as a reward to Dave for a life of selfless devotion to the needs of others when the bathroom door opened and Becky came to him.

His heart jumped a mile out of his body when he saw her. She stepped softly as a cat, feline indeed in her grace and slinky good looks, and she was lithe and naked to his eyes. Her only garment was a band of cloth about her hips-that, and a wig of long straight black hair that crowned her head, concealing her own natural golden locks. The jet of her newly donned tresses was in charming contrast to the now fully revealed golden redness of her pubic thatch, and Dave couldn't take his eyes from her as she strode across the room toward him.

"My God," he whispered, unable to look away from her breasts, totally captivated by the gentle rise and fall of the pink nips as she moved to him. There was not an ounce of flab on her perfectly constructed body, and her tall figure seen nude was something out of a wet dream. Five feet seven inches of classic beauty, with the figure of a ballerina or a haute couture model. He blinked again and again, unable to believe.

She knelt at his feet, her head touching his trembling knees. "I got the idea from your books on ancient Egypt," she smiled up at him. "At the court of the Pharaohs the serving maids dressed just like This." Her hand touched lightly the band around her waist. It rode along her lower belly, touched hesitantly the very top of her golden beaver, and covered only the very pinnacle of her anal cleavage. "I made this myself, just this morning. It isn't exactly like the ones the Egyptian girls wore, but it's pretty close."

"I love it," he said slowly. "I love the hell out of it."

Becky stood up, her firm young breasts wobbling not at all. "Would you like another drink?" she asked. "A servant girl is supposed to serve."

He couldn't speak. With a smile she walked to the bar and picked up the pitcher of martinis he had fixed. Holding it directly in front of her high young mounds she stepped slowly toward him. Dave held up his glass to her, but she spurned it.

"Don't you want to test the drink before you commit yourself to it?" she teased, and instantly she lowered the pitcher slightly and leaned forward to let one pink tit dip into the colorless liquid. Drops of wetness clung to the point of her breast.

Dave gulped once as she came nearer and nearer him, then her hand had placed itself on the undercurve of that tempting young tit and the point of it was being guided into his mouth. He opened his lips to take it in, and he could taste the stimulating flavor of his special martini recipe, but at the same time he was overwhelmingly aware of the unique woman tang that was Becky's own contribution. His mouth fastened like a leech upon the breast that was offered him, and he sucked it dry. Long after he had absorbed every droplet of martini, he was still nursing at her little breast, sucking the nipple to stiff rubbery extension, smacking and slurping her creamy girl flesh.

The breast began to slide from his wet lips and he let it go regretfully. She stood back a little, just beyond his immediate grasp but not so far that he couldn't have seized her at once if he so wished. "How was that, Master?" she asked.

"Delicious," he chortled.

"Do you wish a drink, then?"

"Drink?" he mugged. "Oh. The drink was just fine, too. But what I want-" and he rose, his arms reaching for her. She smiled and he knew that all systems were "go."

Becky melted in his arms as soon as he had touched her, and her body sank against his with the consistency of melted butter. She flowed round him as they stood embracing, kissing, feeling. His hands cupped the cheeks of her ass, reveled in the perky springy feel of her, and pulled her closer, ever closer against him as he drank honey from her lips. Bare fits ground against his chest, and he could sense the hot anticipation of them even through the thin cloth of his shirt. Her long legs were wrapped sinuously round his own, pressing her cunt against him even tighter, tighter. And then her hands dove between them, fingers undoing his buttons. Without removing his lips from hers he arched his back to allow her room, and she soon had him unfastened. The shirt flew back, came off, fell to the floor unheeded. And then with regret they un-clasped for the moment while both applied themselves to the task of completing his undress.

Becky dropped to the floor and hurried to remove his shoes and socks while Dave unbuckled his belt and let his trousers slip. Before he could remove his shorts, she had jerked herself upward and laid her own strong slim fingers in the waistband of his undergarment. Scratching him ever so gently with her sharp nails she slid the shorts down his hips, down his legs, and off his feet, one at a time. Her head lay cuddled against the stiffness of his now fully risen cock, her chin just touching the eager sack of balls hanging from his crotch.

Her hand encircled his prick lovingly. She slid her fist up and down its length, smooth fingers rubbing delicately the tender flesh of his circumcised head. "So nice," she breathed, her warm exhalation curling Dave's pubic hair as it brushed across. He felt as if two inches had been added to his eight merely from her touch.

She held his cock in hand for a long moment, looking at it as though she had never seen one before. Her hand slowly moved along its length once more, then she bent it toward her face and aimed the slotted head toward her mouth. A pale violet tongue flicked from between her lips, darting toward Dave's penis. Contact was made. A shudder of delicious excitement ran through Dave as another and yet another tongue sortie brushed him. Her head moved nearer his organ, and she ran her tongue round the purple rim of his sizable corolla.