All The Way In

The revelation floored me, which ought to show just how oblivious I'd been after her signals since yesterday. But still it was a shock, and while I lay there in paralysis, she was exploring me quite calmly. The hand on my thigh was rising, feather-light fingertips along my boxers. Her breathing was low and steady; I could tell, since I had fingers hovering on top of her diaphragm, and I hoped mine was as steady as hers; I wasn't sure I wanted her to know I was awake.

That would mean I'd need to say something, and I had no fucking clue what to say.

She was obviously aware of my erection; that went without saying. I'd dated before; not terribly often, but enough to let me know, unequivocally, that girls had a sixth sense for guys' hard-ons. Not that I blame them: any decently observant guy is constantly looking for hard nipples. Why wouldn't the ladies do likewise?

I matched her breathing, and then she seemed to come so some sort of decision, because her hand moved fast to its next stop. Straight onto my penis.

There was a change in her breathing then: she held it, her body totally still, waiting to see whether I'd stir. But I was careful not to, her hand jammed down into that little space of daylight between our hips; she moved her butt forward a tad to give her even more space, and there I was, hot and hard in her palm through the insubstantial cloth of my boxer shorts.

She started breathing again around the time her hand began to measure me. She went from the swollen tip all the way down to where my balls lay trapped between my thighs, tracing all the contours through my shorts. I was very careful not to move a muscle, in abject fear lest I break whatever fucked-up spell had made the gloriously divine Ms Dubinsky get the urge to grab my junk. I certainly wasn't complaining.

Up and down went her softly tracing fingers, her body tense against mine. I'd had my dick touched by a girl before, but not like this: that had been awkward and sticky. This was capable, confident. Seductive.

And at one point her fingers drifted higher, up and over the top of my cock, where precum had already stuck my boxers to my skin. She stopped there, holding her breath again, wondering what my reaction would be when her fingers slowly, shyly, made contact with the curly little pubic hair that connected my belly button to the root of my penis. They waited there, somehow mischievous, and I couldn't stop myself: I sucked in my gut, making a gap between my belly and my waistband.

An invitation.

She stirred in my arms, then, her voice carefully neutral. "So you are awake," she mused. "I was wondering."

I gulped, still not sure what to say. "I, uh..." It came out in a husky croak, and I coughed a little to clear my throat. "I don't think you should be doing that, Ms Dubinsky," but it wasn't an objection. As she knew.

"Sure," she agreed, and her fingers went without further hesitation down into my boxers. Her hair flapped wildly in my face as I blew out a long breath into it, feeling her clean hand descend to grip my greasy flesh. "No, you're absolutely right about that." It didn't stop her from grabbing me, hard, her fingers a vise. "I shouldn't." The head in front of my face shifted, her pointy little nose in dimly-lit profile now. "But I am, though, so... y'know."

Her hand was firm on my cock, the fingers confident, certain, experienced. I was breathing hard now against her neck, and she giggled. "Your breath tickles, Todd," she said, her voice now a little bit shy.

I wondered how I should act, then decided to just go ahead and say the first thing that came to mind. "So's your hand."

She laughed then, low and throaty, breaking whatever ice there could still have been at that point. "I'm not trying to tickle you, Todd," she purred. "I've got other plans." Why? My brain was screaming, but thank God I didn't say it; already, I understood what a fucking moron I'd need to be to screw this up. "I saw you at the Polar Dip, Todd. I saw how you reacted. You know. Afterward."

Ah yes. Leah had, of course, been right. I swallowed, starting at last to relax a tad.

"And I knew that you saw, too," she went on. I raised my upper leg a bit, and she took the hint and dragged out my balls. Her hand never, ever stopped moving. "You were so cute, on the bus."

I laughed ironically. "Cute is my middle name."

"Bullshit." She was turning in my arms then, twisting to face me, and suddenly this was actually fucking happening; I felt her sexy little body up against me, her breasts pressing against me, a leg flung casually across my thighs. "Your middle name is 'sexy.' You like it when I say that, Todd-o?" Her lips were on my face now, grazing my sketched-in stubble. "You like hearing me call you sexy?"

I laid my head back, feeling the smile grow on my face. "It's Toddster."

"No," she said at once, "it's whatever the fuck I want it to be," and then she was half on top of me with her hand still very busy, and I felt sweet lips on mine and I was in heaven. She had a strong, busy jaw and a quick tongue, and she kissed like a pent-up sexual tornado, sucking me in, nipping at my tongue. It was a scorched-earth kiss, possessing me, staking out her claim. When she pulled away, she had her hand all the way underneath my balls. The sheets had fallen away by now, my waistband stretched, and my cock reached all the way to her elbow in the low light. "Well now," she said, and I could hear the grin in her voice, "you'll have to excuse me a second."

And with that, she curled up into a compact, muscular ball and, without any further delay, took my penis into her mouth. Even as she did so she still had her fingers working my balls, tracing along my crotch, even fluttering across my asshole, and in no time at all she had her lips halfway down my dick.

There was no chance I was going to last more than about thirty seconds. She was too hot, and I was way, way too horny, and the wickedness of the situation already had me on edge. I grabbed her head and pushed my hips up off the bed, eager to cum, gasping. "Ms D... I'm not going to be able to stop..."

She came off me with a loud, wet popping noise, and even in the dim light I could see how wild her eyes were. "That's the point, dumbass," she grated. "I want you to cum so you'll last longer when I fuck you." And then she was right back down on top of me, her lips pulsing against the crown of my cock, and I was gibbering, trying to get myself deeper, but she kept pulling back, teasing me, and then her finger went straight and sure into my anus and there was no chance I could do anything but erupt.

She pulled off again, her hands still busy, and pressed her body toward mine and I was spewing semen all over both of us, my cock trembling like a ruptured pipe. "Yeah," she whispered, her breath hot in my mouth, and I turned my head and pushed my tongue greedily into her mouth as my cum kept raining down. This kiss was even hotter than the last, her mouth tasting like me, but I didn't care. I was giving it back to her now, accepting all this and wanting it and crazy for it, devouring her.

She finished with a powerful suck at my lower lip, trapping it in place for a second before playfully letting it fall back. My dick lay twitching across my upper thigh, and her fingers moved slyly up my body, spreading the cum into little puddles. "Just lie there and breathe," she advised. "I'm on cleanup duty," and then her tongue was running all across my chest and neck, and I'll tell you: there's nothing sexier than the smacking sound of a gorgeous woman slurping your semen off your body. She wasn't shy, licking into every nook and cranny; I felt her dig into my armpit, my crotch, the shadowed linty recesses along my scrotum, and all the while her tight little body was bending and twisting over mine.

Good Lord. How had this happened? She was already providing the answer as she threw herself back down onto the pillow beside me. "Sorry, Toddster," she murmured. Her breath stank of my cum. "I just couldn't help myself. It's your fault, though."

"My fault?" I looked down myself, at the sticky fluids all over my chest, the head of my penis poking out of my trashed boxers, with my distant toes tenting the sheets. "What are you talking about?"

She stared at the ceiling, speaking to me with no eye contact. "You're a sweet, quirky cutie. You've got a great sense of humor. You clearly admired me, just the other day, and you're a total gentleman." She shrugged. "Sometimes? For some girls? That's enough. Plus," she went on thoughtfully, "I woke up in the middle of the night with your dick in my butt. That kind of let me know you were interested." She was looking down at herself.

I felt the silence stretch, remembering what she'd said just before I spewed. "I can't believe this," I admitted.

"Same." She didn't sound uncertain, though. "I've never done anything like this, Todd. What can I say?" She turned her head at last, looking over at me with a smile. "A woman knows when she's attracted to a man. Sometimes, there's just no explaining it." She frowned a moment, thoughtful. "Still," she mused, "it might be best if, you know, we keep this to ourselves..."

"Oh, absolutely." I was settling down at last, finally convinced this was real, that it was actually happening. "You're the last person I'd want to get into trouble." She reached over to stroke my nipple. "I'm not sure I can believe this shit."

"Believe it." She leaned over and planted another kiss on my cheek. "But you're not perfect, though; you're like a lot of men in one way."

"Oh?" I was beginning to think it might be fun to reach over and start touching her, and I was certain she wouldn't stop me. "I'm sure you'll tell me, Ms D. You were always very critical."

"Yes," she grinned, her teeth flashing in the night. "I'm an excellent grader. No, your problem is that you can't control yourself. You ruined my shirt, for example."

"So sorry."

"Sure..." she hoisted herself upright, a sleek figure in the moonlight through the window, and her shirt came sweeping off. "Cum all over my shirt; you're a pig, Todd. You need to watch where you put that." She stayed up, leaning casually with her arm against the pillow; she knew I'd be admiring her, watching as her breasts danced.

"I'll be more careful in the future," I choked out, hearing the thickness in my voice; I could feel a twinge in my dick already. I still couldn't believe my luck as my finger, moving like it had a mind of its own, drifted up along the skin of her side and around, then, to flick her nipple. She giggled. "Thanks for the critique."

"Well, in fairness," she was saying, her voice a little hoarse as she watched me play with her right tit, "if we do this right, you're not going to have to worry next time."

"No?" God, she was fine; sculpted by the gym and by her genes, she was perfection. I wondered why she wasn't married, what an unlucky string of men she'd left in her wake. And now I was going to be added to the list, and I didn't even care; I was grateful for it. Her breast filled my hand perfectly, hanging proud above the subtle curve of her ribcage. "How's that?"

She giggled as I tickled her armpit. "See, next time, your dick's going to be right where I want it." She reached quietly over, shoving my boxers aside, and took hold of my dick again; once more she was possessive, casually so. "Aim won't matter, if you know what I'm saying, Todd." She jiggled my balls, playfully, as if she'd been doing it for years. "The range will be... say, exceptionally short." Her smile was crafty now, her beautiful eyes slitted.

I sighed, feeling myself recharge. The clock was now pegged at two minutes after two in the morning. I abandoned her breast, reluctantly, and my fingers fell back down her body to hook into her waistband. She was sitting still, her legs folded gracefully beneath her. "You're my favorite teacher, Ms Dubinsky," I told her softly, my voice thickening up again. "I mean, even before this trip."

"Fuck." She smiled again. "This is what I mean. You'd be amazed at how few men would ever say something like that. Like it would violate some guy code, or something." She winked in the dark. "I like that. I think you'd be saying shit like that even if I wasn't playing with your scrotum."

I burst out laughing, the whole situation still surreal, and she joined in, and then her face was coming back toward me, our smiles met, and then it was all wandering hands, snaky tongues, and saliva. The feel of her naked little body against mine was heaven; wherever her hands touched me I goosebumped. "I feel like this is high school," she whispered into my ear at one point. "Like, I mean, as if I was back there, too." She laid on another probing kiss, then looked down my body. "See? Amazing, how fast you popped back up." She reached down and gave a fond squeeze. "It looks so pathetic, poking out of your boxers."

"Well then. Allow me to fix that." I brought my legs up to my chest and pushed the useless shorts down out of the way, kicking them forgotten into the corner; I doubted I'd need them again. Then I brought my feet back down an arched my butt slightly, my erection high and proud; I wasn't used to being lusted after, but I figured she'd like it. "Does that look any better?"

"Well, shit. Now I'm overdressed." She stared at me, daring me, and I brought both hands to her hips and begin to drag her panties down her thighs; smiling greedily, she maneuvered to help me. "I haven't trimmed in a few days," she muttered as she lay on her back. "Be gentle."

"You really think I'll care?" I propped myself up sideways, somehow certain what she wanted: she was waiting for me to play with her pussy, and I was itching to oblige her. She lay there docile, her legs spread just a bit with the darkened room casting shadow on the hollowed space between her hipbones, and into that shadow is where my hand went. I watched her eyes the entire time, both of us quiet, and when I felt damp hair under my fingers I leaned in and kissed her.

At the same moment I dropped my hand into her lap with my middle finger hooked, and I sighed as I finally touched her. But that sigh was nothing compared to the reaction I got from her; her body arched, rigid, as if she was being electrocuted. My cheeks puffed out as she squealed loudly into my mouth, her legs flying open, and there she was: all around my finger, her vagina was a hot sloppy mess with her body thrusting up toward me, and all the rest was instinct.

I added a second finger. I'd done this before, once, with Abby Kleinman about a month ago; we'd both been nervous and tense, but hell. At least I'd found the right hole.

At some point after awhile I realized she was heading rapidly toward a climax; her face was right beneath mine, and I saw nothing but a blank expression with eyes that weren't there, and a mouth that couldn't close over her little whines and wails. By then I was stabbing methodically into her with both fingers, my thumb putting pressure at the top of her slit, and my world was completely dominated by one certainty: my handjob, as inexpert as it was, as blindly as I was trying to luck into the right series of moves, was working. She was getting off, her body hunching over my fingers, the whole naked sweaty tangle of arms and legs and boobs trembling at my touch.

There's no other way to put it: I felt like a fucking god. I was, somehow, taking the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen and reducing her to a quivering mass of orgasmic jelly, and I didn't even feel like I was working that hard. Her knee caught the side of my head as it flailed; neither of us felt it, and I came in low with my teeth gleaming toward the nearest hard, stubby nipple.

She went off just as my hand was beginning to cramp, crying out into my ear with a cracked "Motherfucker!" and a convulsive grip of her fingers against my wrist; even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't have gotten my wet fingers out of her. I'd never seen eyes so wide, her head catapulting toward me, our lips meeting savagely. She moved straight out of her orgasm with a deadly serious look on her face, setting her foot on the mattress to drive us over; she had a plan.

"Get on your back." Her voice was a gasp, as if she was speaking with held breath. "I'm going to ride you."

I flopped gratefully over with a sore, dripping hand and a dick gone even harder than it had before, or at least it felt that way: there's nothing sexier than a woman cumming off your fingers, and making her squirm had turned me on far past the point of self-control. She left me no time to recover, crawling on top of me with desperate need. I reached blindly, finding her flesh and gripping it hard, but she didn't seem to care what I did; she reached down, lifted my cock callously, and then she dropped onto me with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Instantly I felt a roaring silence, a sense of stillness in the air as she fell all the way down my cock. Her vagina had me trapped, squeezing hard and hot and wet, and the sensation took my breath away. She towered over me with her body firm and flushed, her breasts high and trembling, her head flung back, and I just lay there balls-deep in her with my hands on her hips. We stayed there for a long beat before she sighed and relaxed, bringing her hands to my chest. She smiled down at me.

"Nice job, Toddster," she cooed. "You like this?"

I had a spark of inspiration. "What was it you said to me at the Polar thing?" I was grinning like a dumbass, feeling as good as I ever had. "'All the way in?' I think that was it..." Her eyes lit up as she got the pun; by this time, I could see her just about perfectly even in the dim light. She smacked my chest.

"You naughty boy," she murmured. Her hips were already in motion, grinding slowly across my lap. She hesitated, then leaned down toward my ear. Her pussy was a tightly gripping hand around my shaft; she let it pulse a few times, raking her hair out of her own face. "Am I your first, Todd?"

I'd been dreading that question, but I wouldn't lie to her. I shrugged underneath her. "Look, you know how it is, Ms D," I managed. "I'm always studying all the time..."

She laid her finger across my lips. "Shut up. I'm happy to be of service, Todd," she whispered. "I'll be your second, too." She humped up and down, her hips and thighs supple. "And your third. Fourth... fifth..." Each word was punctuated by a small kiss around my face, sudden and quick like a striking snake. She straightened up, no longer grinning. Now she had a challenging scowl and her hips were moving in wider, more sensuous circles. "Would you like that, lover?" My whole body tingled at the word.

"Yes please." Her skin was slick and hot under my palms; I was totally fucking overwhelmed.

"And then, when we're through," she went on, steering my hands up to her breasts, holding them there tightly, "I'll fuck you some more." She had a wonderful sense of timing, lifting herself straight up off my dick and then slamming back down just as she finished the sentence, and I was trying desperately to stay with her as she picked up speed. She was hissing words at me, her saliva striking my face as our bodies slapped together. "You can be my little booty call, my fucktoy. I can bring you over to my house and let you put it in my ass; how about that?"

She was incredible, and of course I was completely speechless. Never in a thousand years would I have expected words like that from the kind and slightly goofy Ms Dubinsky. Dimly I remembered her thrashing body, my thumb at the top of her pussy, and I moved a hand blindly down there to give her an experimental poke in the same spot. The shiver I got in response, accompanied by the kind of strangled gasp that made me think she was having a heart attack, told me I was on the right track, and at last I was able to do more than just lie there with my hands cupping her ass.