Cinnamon Girl

She feels him place it at her entrance, followed by gentle pressure. He grasps her hips and she relaxes, welcoming him inside. His crown slowly invades her, and then his shaft. He pries her open, which draws a guttural moan from deep inside her. Yes, oh fuck, yes! Pry me open, fill me up. Fuck! I'm cumming again! His cock feels so good, deep inside me. So much better than my fantasy!

Jon slowly enters her. Sheathing himself in her wet, pink tunnel. He buries his shaft until his root is kissed by her lips, then holds it there, allowing her to adjust to the fullness. He feels her gripping, spasming. She's cumming just from my invasion! Fuck this girl is so eager. No, not a girl, a woman. She knows what she wants and she's willing to ask for it. Beg for it. Fuck, she's so damn sexy!

"So full," she groans.

Jon struggles to compose himself. He's feeling as though he's seconds away from losing control.

"So tight," he whispers.

Jon feels her orgasm subside, and begins to slowly piston within her, dragging his head back and forth along her tunnel. She grips him like a warm satin glove. Don't cum yet! Don't cum yet! he tells himself. She's so eager for him and it's driving him crazy with lust. He speeds his thrusts, slowing each one as his root nears her lips. He doesn't want to pound her yet, fucking her into oblivion, until he's enjoyed her. He watches as his cock, glistening with her excitement, disappears and reappears between her lips.

She's laid over the sofa arm, relaxed, enjoying the sensations of him plunging into her depths and then withdrawing. I could lay here and take his cock all night, she thinks to herself. She releases a deep sigh of satisfaction. The man she's been fantasizing about is finally fucking her, and it's so much better than the fake cock she used while she thought of him.

Jon is reaching the point of no return. A bit more and he'll be painting her walls with his seed. He gradually speeds his pace, and soon he's pounding against her ass with every thrust. Her breathing comes in noisy little puffs now. "Huh, huh, huh, ..." synchronized with his thrusting.

"More. Harder. Faster. Just... more. Please!" she begs.

"Fuuuck ... Brooke ... I'm gonna cum ...," he warns her.

"Yes, Mr. Tate. Cum in me. I want to feel your hot cum filling me up."

"Cum with me, Brooke!" he pants.

His command drives her over the edge and she begins to wail as her legs shake.

"I'm cumming for you, Mr. Tate! I'm cumming so hard! Put your cock deep inside me. Cum for me, Mr. Tate. Oh fuck yes! It feels so good."

Once again her brain fogs. Her wail reaches a high pitch before she falls into silence, her mouth open in a scream that no one can hear. Her back arches, raising her head off the sofa cushion, and her entire body spasms. She has no control now. This time it's not a wave, it's a freight train barreling over her. She senses him grow inside her, swelling as his seed rushes up his shaft. A gentle warmth blooms inside her. They both collapse, panting. He soon raises his weight from her and collapses again, back onto the bed behind him. He looks at her draped over the sofa arm and watches his cum slip from her entrance and drip onto the carpet, leaving a creamy, shiny trail within her folds.

As soon as he's adequately recovered he goes to the mini fridge and retrieves two bottles of water. He grasps the comforter off the bed and takes a seat on the sofa. Pulling her onto his lap, he wraps them in it. She's limp, breathing slowly, but he can feel her heart racing. He offers her a sip of water and she eagerly accepts it, then lays her head on his shoulder. Her two strong orgasms, each stronger than she's ever experienced before, have exhausted her. He offers her more water and holds her until the pounding in her chest subsides. Eventually, she speaks. Her breath is hot against his neck, and she plants butterfly kisses.

"I've never..."

"Cum so hard?"

"Yes."

"Neither have I."

"You're amazing,"

"You've never had sex with you," he chuckles.

"Can we do that again?"

"Can we go back to the beginning?"

"Do you mean when I was sucking your cock?"

"Yes. Please"

She giggles.

"Well, since you already made me cum with your mouth."

"I suppose I did. I love the way you taste."

"This time it will be all about you."

"If you insist."

"I need to clean up first."

"So do I. It seems you're leaking my cum all over my thigh."

She slips off of him and bends over, spying the shiny spot on his thigh. She tastes the spot and then cleans it off his skin.

"I need more of that," she says with a grin as she turns and disappears into the bathroom.

After his orgasm, he'd left her hanging limply over the arm of the sofa. As her body relaxed, her shoes fell off her feet. Now barefoot and walking away from him, he estimated she was maybe five-foot-four to five-foot-six. She has a perfect ass and she smiles as she walks away.

When she returns from the bathroom she joins him on the bed and they kiss for a bit before he goes to clean himself. When he returns, she's lying in bed and pats the mattress indicating where she wants him to lay. He situates himself on the bed, his back against the pillows she positioned against the headboard. She lays along one of his legs and splays one of hers over his. Resting on an elbow, she reaches for his cock and gently strokes him. Quickly, his cock stands at attention.

"I'm going to suck your cock again, and this time I want you to relax and enjoy it. When you're ready, I want you to cum in my mouth. Understood?"

"Yes," he whispers.

She begins just like last time, gentle tickling of his cock. Kiss and blow, kiss and blow, until she reaches the crown and licks it clean. Jon lays his head back and sighs when she takes his length into her throat again. This time there's no bobbing of her head. She engulfs him in one smooth stroke and holds him there, moaning on his crown. After a moment, she drags her lips up his shaft, gently sucking on him, until she reaches his glans. She circles him with her tongue, laving at the underside where he's most sensitive. She swallows him again and moans. This is her rhythm. She repeats these actions over and over as she caresses his balls.

"Oh, fuck," he groans as she moans on his head for what feels like the millionth time.

After what seems like a forever torture, Brooke gradually speeds her pace. But not too fast, she wants this to be the blowjob he'll never forget. Ever so slowly she leads him to his release. When his body tenses and he moans her name, she takes him into her throat and gives him a final moan. His cock pulses and she feels his warm seed release. She backs off until she only has the head in her mouth. She sucks and runs her tongue over it as she milks him with her free hand. He collapses, spent, unable to move. He saw stars behind his eyes when he spilled into her mouth. That's one blowjob I'll never forget! They lie together as she kisses and licks his cock and balls.

"I need to sleep so I have the energy to continue this tomorrow. We are continuing tomorrow, aren't we Mr. Tate?" she says as she looks up at him. His eyes are nothing but slits. He needs rest as well.

"Yes," he responds as she slides down in the bed and lies facing her.

They kiss, and he senses his cum on her breath. She slips her tongue between his lips and he offers entrance. The taste of his cum on her tongue is strong. This is a first for him and it stirs a visceral part of his soul. She's mine. This arresting young beauty is mine, at least for tonight.

Jon wakes the next morning with a warm, wet sensation surrounding his cock, which is already achingly hard. He quickly realizes that Brooke has wrapped her mouth around it and is leisurely fellating him. He sighs deeply and lies there enjoying the sensations. Fuck, she's amazing at giving head. She must have sucked a lot of cocks to get this good. He groans softly as she removes her mouth from around him.

"Good morning, Mr. Tate."

"Good morning, Ms. Windsor. Please, don't let me interrupt what you're doing."

"I was just biding my time until you woke so I can sit on this and ride it."

"Oh, fuck, that sounds amazing."

"It will be."

She swings one leg over one of his, straddling his thigh, and strokes his cock while she rubs her wet sex on him. She closes her eyes and lolls her head back, moaning as her clit scrapes against the hair on his leg. He's ready for her, so she straddles his pelvis and positions him at her entrance, his tip nudges her clit. Her breath hitches. She's still sensitive from the fucking she got last night. They maintain eye contact as she slowly eases herself onto him, his girth stretching her. She slides down on him and sees stars. She lifts and settles back on him, then slowly repeats the process over and over. She finds her rhythm. She slowly rides him, her head tilted back with her eyes closed. I could ride him forever. Leaning forward, she places her hands on either side of his head. Her delicious tits swing tantalizingly close to his lips, their large brown areola calling to him. Raising his head, he laves her nipples and then suckles her Other than that, all he can do is hold her hips and pray like hell that he does not embarrass himself this time. Her pussy is choking his cock.

He is entranced by her beauty as she rocks on him. His eyes roam her cinnamon flesh while he enjoys the rhythm of her sensual dance. Her hips rise and fall, her breasts sway, and her channel grips him in its heated embrace. Her pussy quivers on his shaft. Jon wants her to cum, wants to delay his release until she is ready to share in it. But the sensations, the vision of her grinding on his shaft, it's too much.

"I'm almost there, Brooke. I want you to cum with me. Do whatever you need to do," he says through clenched teeth.

She begins to ride him hard and fast, letting her pussy pound against him each time she fully impales herself. She is nearing her release. And then Jon takes hold of her breasts and tweaks her nipples. The sensations of pleasure wash over her. All thought is swept away. Her toes curl, she grips his shoulders, and she pounds against him as her orgasm overtakes her. She breathes in short, sexy pants, tightening her muscles to lock him deep inside her, and then lets go. His breaths match hers, and they cum together. She feels him pulse inside her and she slams down on him, taking his seed deep inside. His hips rise to meet her and lift her off the bed. She is suspended in mid-air, writhing on his shaft, her legs unable to gain purchase against the mattress. They both groan and she falls forward on him. Their lips meet and their tongues dance as their mutual orgasm explodes around them.

She slows her rocking against him as she catches her breath, and he lowers her back to the mattress. They lay together, her on top, kissing until his flaccid cock slips from her sex. He feels his warm seed flow out of her, over his shaft, and onto his pelvis. She rolls off of him and her world tilts on its axis. If not for already lying down she might have collapsed. Her head spins as she lies on her back, clamping her eyes closed to avoid the sight of the room spinning around her. I don't understand how that could be better than last night, but it was. I'm afraid I can't get enough of this man.

"Ms. Windsor?"

"Yes, Mr. Tate?"

"You are an amazing young woman, and I am grateful to have been able to spend time with you."

"Mmm, I thoroughly enjoyed being a slut for you, Mr. Tate."

They both laugh and kiss again.

"I hate to break the mood but I do have to worry about checkout. I was told in no uncertain terms that a late checkout is out of the question."

"Well, I suppose we should be concerned about that. I need a small favor."

"What's that?"

She rises and walks to the window. He follows. Fortunately, the room has stabilized. She pulls back the drape.

"See that white car in the third row under the light post? I have a bag with fresh clothes in the trunk. Doing the walk of shame in my ball gown is the last thing I want to do."

"I can take care of that. Why don't you shower and when I get back I'll order breakfast."

She hands over her keys and kisses him tenderly.

"Thank you."

After Brooke disappears into the bathroom, Jon throws on the clothes he arrived in yesterday and heads to her car. Once there, he quickly finds the bag she'd asked for. He had expected a simple piece of luggage, maybe a duffel bag. Instead, it is a backpack embroidered with the University logo, and below that, a prominent line that says, 'Cheer Squad'.

"Great," Jon mutters, "Now I just need to get back to the room without anyone seeing me."

Throwing the pack over one shoulder, he heads back across the parking lot to the main entrance of the Union. He is just past the front desk and turning toward the private elevator when he hears a feminine voice.

"Good morning! I was hoping to see you before you left!" comes a voice from behind him. It is Maureen.

"Shit," he says to himself under his breath. "Good morning, Maureen!" he says as he turns around to face her.

"What's this?" she asks, pointing toward the pack.

"Oh, nothing. I just neglected to bring this up to my room yesterday."

"Really!" she chuckles, "You have a pack that's only available to members of the Spirit Squad‽"

She sounds incredulous, and he knows his secret is out.

"Maureen, don't blame her—"

"Oh my dear simple man, I don't blame her! She did exactly what I hoped she'd do! You needed a woman to shine your pole. I hope she satisfied you!"

"You—you wanted this to happen?"

"Yes dear, Aunty Maureen put her in your path so you could get laid. Don't you feel so much better this morning?"

He does. He feels like a new man. His night with Brooke is the reason.

"Let me guess, she's still upstairs and those are her clothes."

Jon nods. "She's in the shower. We're going to have room service breakfast before she leaves."

"You always were a gentleman, Jon. I expect you to treat her nicely."

"Thank you? I think."

Maureen laughs and hugs Jon. "Congratulations again on becoming one of our Distinguished Alumni. Have safe travels back home," she says. "And congratulations on nailing the head cheerleader," she whispers, then walks away.

Jon hurries to the elevator, hugging the pack to his chest with the embroidery hidden and hoping with every step to not see someone else he knows. Once back in the room, he relaxes. Brooke is still in the shower so he sticks his head in the door and asks what she'd like for breakfast.

"A tall stack of pancakes with a side of sausage, please. And a coffee and orange juice!"

Jon orders breakfast and then stands in the window looking out over the parking lot and the campus beyond. He reminisces about his time at the University, and how he never encountered a woman like Brooke when he was here. Back then, the cheerleaders were always into some sports-related, or business course of study. He never encountered a cheerleader in any of his art classes. Yes, here she is, the art student and cheerleader, and he's just spent the most amazing night with her. He can't help but wonder if his life would have turned out differently if he'd encountered a woman like Brooke Windsor back then. He gets lost in his thoughts and reminiscences, and the next thing he knows, she's wrapped him in her arms from behind.

"Where are you, Mr. Tate? Did you not hear me calling to you to bring my pack?"

"Oh, um, no. I'm sorry."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh, just reminiscing about my time here on this campus."

"Things were different then?"

"You have no idea," he chuckles. "For one thing, I never encountered a woman like you."

She releases her grasp and turns him around to face her.

"Is that good, or bad?"

"Honestly, can we know?"

"I suppose not. But you have encountered me now, so what's the verdict? Good, or bad?"

Jon smiles softly and wraps her in his arms. "Good. Definitely good."

There's a knock on the door, followed by a male voice announcing, "Room service."

"You get the door, and I'll get dressed," Brooke giggles as she grabs her pack and disappears into the bathroom.

By the time she reappears, their breakfast is spread out on the dining table.

"Mmm, looks and smells delicious! Thank you for this treat, I don't often go out for breakfast."

"Well, after last night, it's the least I can do, don't you think?"

"I suppose it is."

Over breakfast, they discuss ways the campus has changed over the years between them. New buildings have been built, old buildings demolished, new programs of study created, and some old programs abandoned. They let time get away from them and soon Jon realizes he needs to rush to make his checkout time.

"I'll be going then," Brooke says with a sigh, "I had a wonderful time with you, Jon."

"So did I," he responds.

"Earlier, you said that breakfast was the least you could do for me. I'd like to ask for one thing more."

"What's that?"

She unlocks her phone and hands it to him. "See me again."

"Are you sure, Brooke? I mean, I'm so much older than you. Shouldn't you spend time with guys your age?"

"Guys my age are boys," she scoffs, "Last night you showed me what it's like to be with a real man. I've often fantasized about someone like you, and now that I've experienced it, I'm not sure any boys will do."

"I don't know, Brooke."

"Is there someone else, Jon? I'm sorry, I know I probably should have asked that before seducing you last night."

"No, there's no one else."

"So give me your number," she says, handing him her phone. "Please?"

There she is with the please again. From the moment that word passed her lips yesterday, he found himself unable to deny whatever it was she was asking. He entered his number into her phone and handed it to her.

"Thank you," she whispers, looking up at him through her lashes. "For everything. I had an amazing time."

She reaches up and tangles her fingers through his hair, pulling him gently, and forcing him to lean down. She presses her lips to him for one final kiss, but hopefully not the last. He groans, his hands find her waist, pulling her into him. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears. She knows she has to leave, but it's the last thing in the world that she wants to do. Reluctantly, she breaks the kiss and their body contact.

"I need to go so you don't get in trouble."

He follows her to the door and she hugs him one last time. He watches her until she disappears into the elevator. Brooke nearly collapses into the elevator, her heart is breaking. When she accepted the assignment from the Dean, she had only hoped that she might end up the his bed. Now that she's spent hours on his arm at the banquet, and more hours in his room pleasuring him and being pleasured in ways she's never experienced before, she finds herself longing to go back. To follow him wherever he is going. To be his. Tears begin to stream down her cheeks. When the elevator reaches the lobby floor she wipes them away and charges across the lobby, throwing her access card to the clerk behind the desk. Her sneakers squeak on the polished marble. Once outside she half runs, half stumbles to her car. She flops into the driver's seat and collapses against the steering wheel, sobbing. I'm not supposed to develop FEELS for this man. I was just supposed to escort him for the evening, and hope beyond reason that I might end up in his bed to satisfy a fantasy of mine. He was not supposed to be so perfect! By the time she collects herself and feels up to driving home, she sees him getting into a black car with heavily tinted windows.

After watching Brooke disappear into the elevatory, he checks the bedside clock, he rushes through his shower, dresses, and makes it down to the front desk just after checkout time. The University arranged for a car to take him to the train station, and it's waiting out front. On the ride to the train, and then on the train home, he can't stop thinking about her. The exotic beauty with the cinnamon skin. He wonders if he did the right thing. His emotions swing from self-loathing to giddiness; from secure in the decision to never see her again, to an overwhelming desire to take her into his bed over and over. With his emotions in turmoil, he begins to blame Maureen for his situation. She's the one who selected her to be my escort. She must have encouraged Brooke to seduce me, maybe even paid the poor girl, or promised her other advantages. There's no way I can take advantage of that! Oh, Brooke, I'm so sorry you were caught up in this web of deceit. Please, forgive me. Tears trail down his cheek, and a fierce sense of disgust washes over him.