A Chemistry Experiment

“Oh Ms Farrell,” he exclaimed, feeling the weight of them against his palms, “Ms Farrell these are amazing breasts.”

“I’m glad you like them, Richard.” I began to unbutton his shirt, helping him out of it as I finished. I started to undo his belt, but he grabbed my hands swiftly and held them at my side.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Ms Farrell?”

“I…” I gulped at his harsh tone, “I wanted…”

His eyes burned into mine, “You wanted to touch my cock, didn’t you.”

“Yes,” I murmured. Oh , yes yes yes yes yes.

“Say it.”

“I wanted to touch your cock.” So badly.

He released my hands and stepped back. “Ms Farrell, would you please lay down on this carpet for me?” The carpet was as soft and comforting on my back as it had been under my feet. “Please place your hands behind your head,” he ordered softly but firmly, standing at my feet and slowly unbuckling the belt. Could I not comply? I watched as he stood over me and pushed his jeans and underpants just below his hips. His dick jutted out firmly, not overly long but appealingly thick, curving slightly upwards toward his stomach. My fingers clenched against my scalp. I stared helplessly as he finished removing his clothes and knelt between my knees, and felt the muscles inside of my cunt tighten and relax rhythmically. “Is this what you want?” he asked as he stroked himself slowly with both hands, smearing a few drops of clear precum around the head with one thumb. I nodded, my heart beating in my mouth. “Say it,” he urged, “tell me what you want.”

My voice was husky and raspy and I barely recognized it as my own. “I want that nice hard cock. I want to touch it and I want to taste it and I want to feel it inside me. Please,” I whined, “please let me touch it.”

“Hmmm,” he put a finger to his lips, as if considering this option, “no, Ms Farrell, I think I would like to see you touch yourself first before I let you get your hands on this cock. So why don’t you take your right hand out from behind your head and slip it down into those nice wet panties?”

I was so turned on I shuddered involuntarily the instant my fingers brushed against my swollen clit. My whole pussy felt molten, throbbing. A small cry escaped my throat as my fingers played over my dripping sex. I felt him slip a finger under the elastic band at either side of my waist and begin removing the soaked material. I obliged him by lifting my hips, sliding a finger into myself as I did so.

“Oh that is a lovely sight, Ms Farrell,” he smiled. “I’ll bet that feels real nice, doesn’t it, Ms Farrell?”

God I loved the way he kept saying my name like that. “Yes,” was all I could manage to reply, breathlessly.

“Why I bet you can just take care of yourself Ms Farrell, I don’t believe you need my cock at all, do you?”

“No! Please! I do, I need it,” I moaned.

“But you’re doing such a beautiful job,” he teased, “I reckon you would do just fine all on your own.”

I am always all on my own, I thought instantly, regretfully, with a stabbing pain that pierced through my lust. “Please don’t tease me anymore.” My voice sounded small, like a child’s. “Please Richard.”

He sensed the note of true distress in my voice and his smile was warm as he lay down next to me. His fingers caressed my cheek as he softly kissed my forehead. “It’s really hard being alone all the time, isn’t it,” he whispered. I nodded, suddenly feeling close to tears again. His hand traveled down to my breast, “All of your passion locked up inside you, no one to share it with…” I closed my eyes as his fingers trailed lightly over my stomach. “…wanting so badly to be touched, to feel someone else’s skin pressed to yours…” I sucked my breath in sharply as his hand closed over my own resting on my mound and he gave it a little squeeze, twining his fingers with mine as he pushed both further down into the wetness. He nuzzled my ear as he guided our fingers together around my throbbing clit, “Tell me what you need, Ms Farrell.”

I turned my head to look into his face, those hypnotic gray eyes. ‘Who is this man,’ I wondered, ‘how does he know how to keep doing and saying all the right things?’ I thought back to those nights alone in my bed when I would lie awake, thinking about just this moment. I pushed our clasped hands down still further, feeling the muscles of my cunt grasping at our fingers, trying to pull them in. “What I need…I need … Oh my god,” I gasped as his fingers disentangled from mine and I felt two of them sinking into me. “I definitely need you to keep doing that!”

Laughing, he sat up and moved to kneel between my thighs again, keeping his fingers moving expertly inside me as he did so. “Ms. Farrell, do you remember the first part of my theory?”

“Yes, Richard,” I smiled, squirming at his hand, “I do believe I do.”

“Would you kindly repeat it for me please?”

I tried to recall the exact words. “I believe it had something to do with the idea that I had a desperately neglected pussy.”

“Mmm, so it did, although I believe I specifically indicated the conditions of said pussy.”

“Did you?” I loved his playfulness, this way he had of putting me at ease, this most amiable seduction. “What were they?”

“Hot,” he held up a finger on his unoccupied hand, and nodded. “Check. Second, there was wet,” he held up another finger and glanced down, then grinned back up at me. “Check, definitely. And third, tight,” another finger up as he wriggled the ones inside of me delightfully, “check. Three for three.”

“Well then, that’s the first half your hypothesis sorted,” I laughed. “What about the second?”

“What about he second indeed, Ms Farrell.” He slipped his fingers out of me and rested his palms on my inner thighs, gently pressing my legs further apart, and I watched as he bent forward, felt his tongue run swiftly from just above my anus to my clit. My back arched and I gasped at the rush of sensation.

Sadly I must admit that my ex-husband had, amongst his other less desirable qualities, never expressed any interest in getting his mouth anywhere near my box and, although this was surely not the entire cause for the failure of our marriage, I had always felt aggrieved that in taking my vows I had forsworn this oral pleasure for a lifetime (or so it had seemed it would be at the time, anyway). Equally tragic was the fact that since I had thrown myself headlong into work after the divorce, I had allowed myself only a handful of brief, unsatisfying trysts that always left me feeling as though my time could have been better spent on just about anything else.

Oh how different already tonight was! Richard’s tongue worked around my sensitive folds of skin like a dancer. He sucked my clit between his lips and hummed like a purring cat, the vibrations rippling through my groin like thunder. I felt his tongue probe into me, his mouth close around my labia, soft wet noises reaching my ears over my own groans and cries. He feasted on me for what felt like an eternity, a blissful and ecstatic timeless time. I was lost in a trance of my own pleasure and as my legs began to shake and my hips buck against his face, I was only barely conscious of the long, shrill moans starting to emanate from my throat.

I could feel my orgasm building like thunderclouds on a hot summer afternoon. Richard pulled his head up only for a moment as that sexy drawl encouraged me on, “That’s right Ms Farrell, go on, let it out.” The storm in me broke as he nibbled my button gently and I came wailing like a fire engine, clamping his head between my thighs, my body twisting in powerful shudders.

His mouth continued its busy work as I came, sucking and lapping eagerly as the waves rolling over me subsided and I lay gasping for breath. “Jesus Christ,” I managed to choke out, finally.

“No, just me,” he smiled, moving his body up over mine and pushing a strand of hair from my sweating brow.

I put my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine, kissing him hungrily, sucking the taste of my juice from his mouth. “Just you,” I nodded. “And just who the hell are you, anyway?”

He laughed and kissed me again, “I’ll tell you a little later, right now I’ve got to go ask the neighbors a question.”

“Don’t you dare, you already know your answer,” I warned, nipping at his lower lip. My hand worked down across his stomach to wrap around his fine hard cock, the tip of which was grazing my soaking bush. “Besides, there is still this other matter to attend to.”

“Ah yeah there is that, Ms Farrell, but that was not part of my theory,” he teased, giving my nose a peck.

“But correct me if I’m wrong,” I guided the head of his shaft slowly up and down my slit, “you did also say something about wanting to see me looking at you while your cock is moving inside of me, or something to that effect?” Mmm, the feeling of that hard knob sliding along my wet, sensitive folds of skin. I restrained my self from the urge to plunge it into myself ferociously.

His eyes narrowed and gleamed. “Oh Ms Farrell, what an excellent memory you have.” He kissed me lightly and cupped one of my breasts. “As a concerned gentleman, however, I must at this point inquire if perhaps we might need some form of protection?”

“This thought had occurred to me as well, safety being the first rule in all chemistry experiments,” I admitted.

He gave my nipple a pinch and sat up on his heels, just as me cell phone began to bleep in my bag. He looked at me quizzically, raising his eyebrows and reaching for it.

“Another form of protection,” I laughed, “it must be 11.”As I sat up and fished for the phone, he smiled and stood, and left the room.

I answered the call. “Tanya, it’s cool,” I said.

“You sure?” she asked. “You’re not just saying that?”

“Positive. Very sure. Thank you though, I’ll call you tomorrow, OK?”

She laughed. “You better!” and hung up.

I found my previously abandoned half full wine glass and sipped, savoring the crisp appley liquid, rolling it around my mouth. Richard reappeared, the obligatory square foil packet in hand. He sat beside me and took the glass, taking a sip for himself and setting it back on the end table.

“You’re a smart woman, Ms Farrell,” he said admiringly. “I knew that the first time I heard you speak. Nothing sexier than a good looking, intelligent woman.”

“Thank you,” I blushed slightly. Not that I didn’t believe it was true, but it felt good to be admired in all the ways he was doing so this evening. I leaned forward to kiss him and pushed him gently onto the carpet on his back, taking the packet from his hand. He grinned, that magnetic lopsided grin, and folded his hands behind his head, stretching out. I held the foil between my teeth as I let my hands close around that beautiful swollen cock, feeling its heat and pulsations against my palms. Oh very nice, very nice, very nice. I let go to tear the foil open and placed the latex nipple over the shining head, rolling it down carefully to the base.

I held his penis tightly in one hand as I put one leg over to straddle him, and again ran the head teasingly up and down my slit. His eyes moved from my face to my hand and back up again as I slowly sank down on his cock, bit by bit. Oh god, that fantastic feeling of sliding, stretching, filling. A raspy groan came from his parted lips and his hips pushed up against me as I pushed down onto him, taking him all the way in. “Oh, Ms Farrell,” he panted, grasping my hips roughly as I gyrated my hips around his hardness, his eyes wide, always on mine.

We found an instant rhythm as his hips continued to pump up to me and I started to rock back and forth. He pressed the heel of his hand against my groin and his thumb found my clit and rubbed it in an insistent circle as our pace quickened. I threw back my head and a long low moan came from deep within me. My pussy muscles squeezed and released his throbbing cock in time to the beat of our sex-dance, and my head swam with the pleasure of it all.

Richard sat up and threw his arms around my waist, then swiftly turned me onto my back so he was again above me, somehow managing to complete the whole maneuver without ever pulling out of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his back as he thrust into me hard, his grunts and gasps in my ear rugged and hot. My body twisted and squirmed beneath his powerful force and I could fell myself drawing closer and closer to another climax, my voice already starting to rise.

“Richard, I’m going to cum again, oh god,” I moaned, pressing my face into his neck.

“Good,” he growled, “you do that Ms Farrell, I want to feel your hot pussy cumming all over my cock.” With that he pushed my legs up onto his shoulders and rammed forward into me even more deeply than before.

Well that just sent me right over the edge! I yelped and writhed as wave after intense wave slammed me. My cunt muscles spasmed around his thick cock uncontrollably. Through it he watched my face intently, whispering small encouragements as my fingers dug into his biceps, “Yessss Ms Farrell…that’s so good…” and I grabbed his arms tightly, pushing myself against him and arching my back to feel the full length of him inside of me. He had awakened a very hungry beast indeed.

The pitch of his own guttural moans had gone up a notch and I felt his cock give a preliminary twitch as I clutched it deep within. It was my turn to be the cheerleader. I released his arms and ran my hands over his chest and belly, then back up to let my fingers strum his nipples. “Cum for me Richard,” I cooed, “let me feel you cum for me.”

His response was a roar as his head flew back, mouth wide. His cock jerked and shuddered inside me as his seed gushed into the condom in short bursts. I watched with pleasure his face contorting with the force of his orgasm as his breath came in short gasps. He collapsed gently forwards, his head resting on my chest. “Oh, my, Ms Farrell,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the fact that his face was pressed to my breast.

“Well,” was all I could say for the moment as we lay entangled, catching our breath. He grasped the base of his softening cock and eased out of me, then sat up and carefully removed the condom, placing it discreetly off to the side, and stretched out next to me, an arm across my waist.

I rolled up onto my side to face him. Those incredible blue-gray eyes, shining and content. He moved to kiss me but I put a hand to his chest to hold him off. “Now, answers. Who are you?” I demanded softly but firmly.

“I’m still Richard,” he laughed. I looked at him sharply (my best intimidating-teacher-look). He put his hands up in mock surrender. “What do you want to know?”

I sighed and looked around the room, once again taking in its subtle upper middle class luxuries. “What doyou do for a living is a start, I guess.”

“I’m…an…engineer,” he said slowly, coyly, his eyes glinting.

My eyes narrowed. “What kind of engineer?”

His smile was sly. “I’m a…chemical…engineer.” He named a pharmaceutical company with a nearby research campus. Where, incidentally, I occasionally go for teacher training workshops.

Something in my mind clicked. I punched his shoulder playfully, but hard enough to make him roll onto his back. “You son of a bitch! You did not just somehow serendipitously end up in my class at all, did you?”

“Ow, that hurt,” he chuckled, rolling back up onto his side. “Okay, I confess, I saw you in the cafeteria at work with a group of other teachers, I asked around, found out I knew some people who knew you. So.”

“So you enrolled in my night class and spent a month and a half crafting an obscene proposal? Why didn’t you just ask me out?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Unhappy with the way it’s turned out?”

Now I let him kiss me, savoring the texture of his lips, his teeth, his tongue. “Not hardly, but it does seem like a strange way to go about getting to this point.”

Richard was quiet for a minute. “You might not like what I tell you now.”

I pondered this, but I had to know what it was he wasn’t saying. “Tell me anyway.”

He kissed me again first. “Okay,” he sighed. “Some of the people I was asking about you, and I am not going to give you any names and you’ll probably figure out who they are eventually anyway, but some of them said not to bother with you. They said you might be nice looking and all, but that you were sort of untouchable. I believe one of them used the highly descriptive term, ‘Ice Queen’.” He paused. “I chose to believe this might not in fact be the case.”

I sighed and rolled onto my back. Although I did not know to whom he had spoken specifically, I was not entirely surprised. As I said I had focused more or less entirely on work since leaving my ex and had consciously as well as probably unconsciously rebuffed the advances of several colleagues and other work-related acquaintances. I am sure most of them thought me quite cold indeed.

“However,” he continued, “One woman told me about your ex husband and how badly he screwed you, both in your marriage and in your divorce, and she told me to go for it, but I would need to do something big and bold to get past the front.”

I sat up, looking from him to my phone on the end table and back again. “Tanya.” She is the only person who would know me that well, and say that. “I can’t believe her!”

He pulled me back down, wrapping me in his arms. “She was my daughter’s teacher, and I saw her at the same workshop with you.” He kissed my forehead, “She cares about you, you know.”

“First thing in the morning I am going to send her some flowers.”

He chuckled again and gave me a squeeze, “We’ll do it together.”

I pulled back and looked into his eyes, “Do you suppose we’ll be doing a lot of things together?”

“Why I genuinely hope so, Ms Farrell!”

I smiled. “You’ll have to drop my class.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay, I have completed that phase of my research.” With that he rolled me onto my back again, his body pressed tight against mine, and I felt him beginning to harden again.

God, I love the possibilities of chemical experimentation.