Semesters End

"Do you remember," she asked, looking up at me, "when I said I'd never had a boyfriend? That wasn't exactly true."

Esha wrapped her fingers tightly around my cock, and turned it to her face. Her full, dark lips parted as she kissed the tip, and her tongue began to swirl around it as it entered her mouth.

She opened her eyes again and looked at me. I could feel the back of her throat on the tip of my penis. I should have stopped her. I should have gone home.

"You've got a boyfriend?" I asked hoarsely.

Esha lifted her head up and kissed my lips. "I've had two or three boyfriends in my bed," she said, laughing. "But they weren't exactly my boyfriends. If it's fine by you, it's fine by me. Right here, right now, it's just you and me. We'll use protection." She handed the unopened condom to me.

I'd be lying if I said I hesitated for even a moment. I tore it open and started rolling it over the head; Esha took over with her mouth and both hands, pushing the latex down my shaft with her lips.

She jumped up and posed sensuously in front of the bed, running her hands over her still-covered breasts and tilting her hips in contrapposto.

"I'm glad," said Esha. "We're going to have some fun. We've got the whole place to ourselves for as long as we want. But right now, I need a quick, hard fuck."

Esha looped her fingers under her belt and pulled down her jeans, and as she rolled them down her shapely legs, her bra fell over her arms and onto the floor. Her breasts hung down, beautiful handfuls with chocolate tips, and she came to the bed and tugged my jeans off of me. I wriggled to help her, and when I lay naked on her bedspread—a baroque variegated blue and bright yellow textile pattern—she jumped up onto me, rubbing her panties on my cock.

Then she pumped it in her hand and pressed it to her tummy. I lifted myself up and kissed her, taking her into my arms and stroking her arched back. My fingers caressed down her spine, over her round ass along the line of her pink and white striped panties, and underneath to start stroking her labia. She was wet and moaning.

Our tongues met and our hands explored each other. My cock was rail hard by now. Esha threw aside her underwear and pushed me back into the bed to get a better straddle on me. She carefully guided her pussy down onto my cock, and I felt her heat through latex.

Her breath caught and she paused. I kissed her nipple and circled it with my tongue, feeling the warmth of her breast up against my cheek. My hands moved to her waist and pressed into her, pulling her down onto me—but instantly her nails dug into my shoulder.

"Ahiste," she gasped. "Slowly...your lund is a little thicker than I've had before. What I hoped for, it's just that."

Esha rocked her pelvis slowly. In a few moments, I was deep inside her, and Esha let out a deep breath. I felt the inner folds of her vagina part to receive me and her breasts swaying just above my chest. Esha dug her nails into both my shoulders and pushed herself as far back on my dick as she could. She rolled her hips and squirmed astride me. Her eyes fluttered.

"Oh, yeah..." she moaned. "Right there."

Still inside her, I rolled off the bed to stand on the floor. Esha lay flat on her back with her hips over the edge of the bed. Our fingers interlaced as I started fucking her. My hands were under her writhing body, and each stroke of my cock into her was spring-loaded. Esha had one foot behind my back, clutching on to me with her shin, and her other foot up on my chest.

"Chod mujhe, oh—yeah," she whispered, grinding her hips against my harder and harder thrusts. "Give it all to me. Chod mujhe."

"What's that mean?" I asked. "Are you talking dirty?"

Esha nodded but said nothing. She bit her lip and raised her arms over her head, surrendering to me.

I fucked her, rubbed her clit and held taut on her waist until we fell into a mutual rhythm. Esha clutched my forearms with her dainty hands, and flexed her calves folded behind my back. My eyes soaked in the image of her smooth, brown thighs wrapped around me, my sheathed pink cock plunging into her. She was rolling her hips in a circle in time with my strokes, letting me into her as deep as I could go.

Esha's breasts lay over her arms and her nipples were cinched tight; I could see the shallow rise of her chest as she nearly panted beneath me. Her mouth hung open, showing the pink of her tongue pushed up against her bright white front teeth. Her silky hair wreathed her face, where her eyes were winced shut in an image of sexual concentration.

I broke the spell by groaning her name.

"Don't stop," she whispered. "Oh fuck, don't stop—I'm close—"

But the sound of her voice in ecstasy was enough to push me into the abyss. I found myself lurching onto the bed, on top of Esha with nothing but a sheen of sweat and latex between us. My cum spurted into the latex as I felt my cock ease deeply into Esha's pussy.

My eyes jammed shut and my breathing stopped. Esha began to gasp in time with each final stroke, her hot breath panting across my cheek as her jaw fell open. One small squeal escaped from the back of her throat as I finished inside her and my body quivered into stillness.

I pulled out and rolled to her side, overcome with exhaustion. I could smell her body, her sex and perfume, and felt her kiss my chest. She twirled a little of my chest hair around my nipples, then the feel of her fingers disappeared behind latex.

Esha slid the full condom loose and got rid of it somewhere. The next thing I knew, I was nestled under her sheets beside her. Her nipples were still hard. The hair of her pussy tickled my side as she folded her leg over mine. She was still wet, and she took my cock in her hand and caressed it slowly.

It just pulsed once and lolled sleepily to the side.

"You fucker," she whispered in my ear. "You owe me." Her words drifted farther away as I struggled to stay awake.

* * *

The warm gold of late afternoon sunlight filtered through her blinds and tapestries into the dusty corners of Esha's room. My head was nestled between her shoulder and a dent in one of her pillows.

My lab TA was naked beside me. She sat propped up on a few pillows, topless and tapping away at her laptop, flicking between a spreadsheet and a browser. The only sound in the house was the clattering of the keyboard.

"That was amazing," I said. "You're amazing."

Esha didn't say anything. She saved work, clicked Submit, and folded the laptop shut. She turned to the side table, took a swig of bottled beer and handed my phone to me.

"A girl called you."

I glanced at it. "My sister," I said. "Look, I'm sorry I crashed like that. But—well, you know. It was amazing."

"Yeah, well..." Esha fretted, then kissed me. "You should last longer."

"I've been holding out for weeks. I mean, really. Emails, office hours, trying to catch you after lab. What's a guy have to do to get your attention?"

"Not be a student, for one," she said. "Do you know how hard it was to ignore you? Ever since spring break?"

"Sorry," I said. "I guess I got carried away. But when I walked you home that night, it almost felt like...I don't know. I probably shouldn't say this, but I, uh, almost knocked on the door. Like, to find out if we could keep hanging out."

Esha's eyes became earnest. "I sat out there for twenty minutes," she said. "In the dark. Hoping you'd knock. Part of me didn't know what I would do if you did. Another part of me knew exactly what would happen."

"What?" I asked, stupidly.

Esha reached beneath the covers and found my cock. She looked me straight in the eyes as she traced her forefinger down the side of it, then wrapped her hands around it and began to stroke me.

"Let's just say," she answered, "I made sure to go buy condoms before classes started up again." Her hand began to move faster.

"This same box?" I asked. She nodded. "How big a box?"

"Just a four pack. Just in case."

"So," I said. "Three left?"

"Two," said Esha. "A girl can only wait so long. How about you? How many times did you fuck your girlfriend, fantasizing about me?"

"You like that?"

She nodded, messing her hair on the pillow. "Uh-huh." Her hand started moving faster; she was jerking me off now.

"A lot."

"Mmm," she said, then kissed me. "I like how easy you get hard for me." Esha pulled back the sheets to my waist. My hard dick strained up off my torso. Esha grabbed it again and began working it.

"It's beautiful," she said. Then she spanned her hand along it. "Over twenty-three centimeters. And so thick."

"Will you...?"

She smiled. "Fucking pervert. Okay." Esha tucked her hair behind her ear and rearranged herself on the bed. Her body—her breasts—caressed my whole torso and came to rest on my thighs. Then she licked the tip slowly, and caught my eye as she swirled her tongue around it. She laughed. "I like it when you watch," she said. Esha held eye contact and swallowed me slowly. My pink shaft disappeared behind her brown cheeks, all the way to her throat, then eased off, sucking it so that her cheeks went hollow. She pulled it out of her mouth with a wet pop.

"But first," she said, "you owe me one."

Esha lay in front of me, her legs bent and knees wide. Her head was flung back on the pillow, and her breasts splayed with erect nipples. The delicious scent of sugar mixed with her sex.

I wrapped my arms around her thighs, nuzzled the gentle tuft of pubic hair and parted her labia with my tongue. She quivered a little as I began.

After the first two orgasms, we didn't bother to keep count. We had too much lost time to make up, and spent the rest of the weekend naked—fucking between sprints of hard work and studying, working and studying in between hard fucks. We were only interrupted once.

Esha had insisted on showering alone—that time—and I let her go after fingering her on the couch. So she was fresh out of the shower and came back with a surprise: she'd trimmed her pussy with some clippers Jane's boyfriend had stashed in the bathroom.

She came out of the foggy bathroom still dripping wet, with her damp hair pulled back and knotted with a hair tie. She had a towel draped half-heartedly over her chest, and she came over to the couch and lifted the lower edge of the towel.

I kissed the short bristles and felt the warmth of her most intimate flesh on my face.

"You like it?" she asked.

I stood up, running my fingers over the neat thatch and kissing her cheek. "God, I want you."

"No condoms," she said. "We have to get more. But first—"

Esha ran her hands down my bare chest. Her eyes were glittering dark pools as she knelt in front of me. The towel fell down her back and its corners rested on her thighs. All of her was supple, smooth.

I'd had just enough modesty to put on jeans, but my belt hung open. She undid my fly and pulled out my aching lund. When Esha was trying to talk dirty, she called it my cock...but when she actually had it in her, it was always a lund.

I wasn't done learning from her, and the language lessons weren't all. She taught me exactly what she wanted, and learned things I liked I didn't even know about.

Like this. Kneeling in front of me, both hands on my cock, watching me enjoy the pleasure she gave me. My lund at the back of her throat, her brown lips sealed around my white skin. She tongued my shaft and kissed it as she jerked it off.

"Cum for me," Esha whispered. Her hand was on the back of my thigh.

Before long, I was ready. "Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I'm gonna cum."

Cold air hit my shaft. Esha knew just when to stop; she could read me. "Cum on my chest," she said.

The towel fell down on her calves as she rose up and held my glistening cock in her cleavage. Cum spurted freely, spattering her deep brown nipples and mocha skin, across her left breast and up to her neck.

A second jet glazed her right nipple and made a slick white streak down her belly. She milked the last of the cum out of me, onto the back of her hand above her thumb, and took me full length, deep throating me.

My ejaculation had stopped, but I realized I was still orgasming from her touch.

What a time for a knock at the door.

* * *

Monday came at last, and the real world burst in uninvited.

I decided to do the right thing and broke up with my girlfriend at lunch. It hadn't been working, and both of us knew it. We were civil about it—attended graduation with each other and hosted a party together. But the physical stuff between us was already over. We were better as friends.

She had a guy she'd met in one of her last classes. After graduation—after breaking up—she hit him up and had a new boyfriend in short order. It didn't work out, but at least she had the self-respect to do things in the right order.

I did my part for my ex-girlfriend and helped her rebound. Afterward, she confessed she was surprised I was still single.

"Me too," I said. Except I wasn't—not really. There was a graduate student down the street I could go out for drinks with—and sometimes she asked me to walk her home.