Rebecca Butler: Freshman nymph

She lay on her back, eyes closed, hands fondling her pretty young tits, legs thrown far apart. Her boobs were heaving up and down like stormy seas and Dave knew he could hear her heart beating with excitement. Then be realized suddenly that it must be his own heart, pounding like a jackhammer in his chest, that he could hear. So he was excited too? So what? So he was gonna fuck the living hell out of this delightfully creamy young girl, that's what!

And he threw himself upon her then, his mouth dislodging one of her hands to seize a tit for its own use, and his hands took hold of his aching, come-filled penis, guided it to the mouth of her yawning hole, and shoved it home for auld lang syne. He slid into her to the hilt, his belly banging against hers, and she jerked at the contact. Even lubricated with the flow to which he had fingered and sucked her, she was still a tight piece of cunt, nearly tight as a young virgin, and he knew almost instinctively that she hadn't been fucking for a very long time. Not long enough to splay her hole out of shape, at least. And he was grateful for that, grateful to her, grateful to whoever had been there before him but had been thoughtful enough to leave plenty of nice snatch for the next guy.

Dave's cock was snaking in and out of Becky like an oil drilling rig, banging his belly against her pubic bush on downstrokes, taking him nearly all the way out on his backpulls. But not all the way out. He had plenty of cock and it was no trouble to leave plenty of that cock in her when he was setting his balls up for another hammer at the loveliest anvil he had ever beaten on.

Becky got her lithe and lissome legs round him, crossing ankles on the male padding of his ass, her heels playing a fandango on his flesh as he flicked in and out, ever in and out. She was gasping like a drowning woman, her head back, eyes clamped tight, mouth open and up, and the rasping sounds that creaked from her throat signified to Dave's experienced ear that she was already coming for dear life. The juices that drenched his jerking peter were only added confirmation, and he knew that soon her cunt fluids would be mingled with even hotter gushes of creamy liquor distilled in the refinery of his bouncing balls.

A long shrill cry broke out of Becky's open, trembling mouth, a cry that signified her surrender to the feelings that were coursing through her body, feelings that she could not have resisted even had she wanted to, and she thrust herself against Dave all the harder, seeking to imbed as much of his shafting cock as she could, while her nerve ends were all flowing directly to her come bump.

Dave took the hint, and he shoved himself back against her, putting everything in her but his balls, touching depths of this girl's body that he had never known in a woman before. He was positive he could feel his prick jabbing against her very womb, and all the more positive when she broke into a hot and cold sweat each time he stuck his penetrating cock up her hot canal.

And then it was too late to worry about whether or not he could give her even more length, for his balls sent word throughout his body that they could not dam up the flood of come that raged there, and the slot in his cock-head burst open, deep inside Becky's clutching cent, and from it there spilled a river of hot swirling cream that shot in, in, in, Becky's twat. Her cuntmouth tightened round the squirting length of his prick, squeezing it as it shot, forcing it to dislodge come that Dave hadn't even known he possessed.

He drowned her internally, till he was sure it must soon roll in torrents out her mouth, her nose, her ears, her sweat glands. He couldn't stop gushing and jerking, and shaking and twisting, and each movement of his prick sent a fresh splattering load of juice into Becky.

She took it like a lady, her pussy still grabbing at his dick, forcing it to expel every drop it could summon, and even when he was dry, when his cock was only shaking inside her, when he had no come left to give her, she kept on forcing more, more, more, fastening like a steel trap on the rigid length of his prick, teasing it, tormenting it, demanding that it give her what neither God nor man could provide at that moment.

Come was everywhere inside her. Dave's still jacking peter rode on a sea of come that backed its way down her love tunnel and swirled out through the tightness of her opening, wetted his pubic hair, wetted hers, rolled hot and sticky down her love slot into the crack of her ass. When he could at last pull his prick from her, when her muscle tightening had dwindled into spasmodic jerking of labia minora, the come he had left behind him, the come that had no where to go, spilled out of her, leaving her red-blonde cunt hair spotted in creamy gobs of love drops.

"Jesus," Dave whispered, drained emotionally as well as physically. He rolled off Becky and lay at her side, too weak even to put his fingers atop one of her still-tempting titties. His eyes closed and consciousness left him for a while as nature reasserted its ultimate control over his body and decreed that he must rest now, whether he really wanted to or not.

When he opened his eyes again, Becky was still lying beside him, a smile on her face that reminded him of the proverbial cat in the cream barrel. Her hand slid across his chest, tangled in his man-hair, pinched at one of his tiny nipples.

"That was okay," she said. "Did you like it?"

"Bet your ass," he smiled. "Bet your ass."

He scooted across the bed and fished a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of the drawer in the nightstand. He put two weeds in his mouth, lit them both, then turned to her, handing her a smoke as he exhaled.

"Oh, no thank you," she said, smiling shyly at the glowing cigarette he extended. "I don't smoke."

So much for that old myth, he thought embarrassedly, stubbing out the superfluous Kool in the ashtray. He took a few more puffs of his, then it too died in the cigarettes' last resting place, and he rolled back onto the bed to lie beside her.

Becky cuddled close to him, her fingers once more in his chest hair. Dave wanted to fuck her again, right now-this time, he thought gaily, in the ass. He had a pretty good idea she was still cherry in her bottom hole, but he had another flash of inspiration that told him she would love it once she'd felt a cock there. And of course, they hadn't tried a 69 yet, spilling juices of love in one another's mouths instead of genitals. But there was something else that was on his mind, too.

"Tell me, Becky," he began, shifting onto his side that he might study her face. "What was the idea of this, anyway?"

She stared in open-eyed surprise. The black wig had slipped during their hot fucking and half her natural golden crown of hair lay exposed. "I don't understand you," she said.

"You," he said. "Coming over here tonight-letting me fuck you. What do you expect to get out of it, anyway?"

"I already got it," she replied happily. "I got a real nice screwing."

"Shit,,' he observed. "You were trying to brownie me up for a grade, weren't you?"

"No!" she shouted. "Nothing like that at all." She looked back into his searching eyes. Unconscious that she was doing it, she folded her arms across her bared breasts, brought her legs together, shutting off the come-drenched lips of her twat.

"Miss Ryan," he said wearily, "this is the oldest story in the history of college education. Beautiful girl wants grade. Beautiful girl balls teacher. Beautiful girl gets grade. Was that why you were interested in ancient Egypt so suddenly?" He looked down her outraged glare. "You can be honest," he added. "After all, you know, you were on the road to an A already. All you had to do was keep up the work you'd done on the first exam. So really, wasn't this a waste of time on your part?"