Crowe's Nest

Susan Blake lost her will to resist; realizing that she too had begun to masturbate when she saw her stepdaughter's eyes fall and focus between her legs again. She exhaled hard, shedding her apprehension and nervousness. A minute later, stopping was no longer an option. She fought off several quick orgasmic rushes in an effort to prolong the moment.

The two women swayed lazily as they finger-fucked themselves in sexual harmony. Their moans echoed in unison as they pushed closer and closer to ecstasy. Suddenly, the young woman trembled violently, and her eyes blinked hard several times.

"I'm going to cum," Jillian Blake sighed softly, staring into her stepmother's eyes.

Her hand reached toward her stepmother's pussy, and began to stroke it rapidly. Susan Blake gasped deeply, and melted around the foreign fingers at her mound. She inched up the tiles as her orgasm was triggered. Her hand reached blindly for the young woman's pussy, massaging it in a slow tantalizing rhythm.

"Ohhhhhh, Jillie," she moaned harshly.

"Oh, make me cum," the young woman replied.

They writhed on one another's fingers. Their bodies exploded, and crashed together, clung tightly, anchored by lips, and tongues, and fingers. Susan Blake tore her lips away hastily, and screamed out.

"I'm cuuuummmiinngg again!" she exclaimed.

Moments later, Jillian Blake spat a hard jagged breath. Several more followed in rapid succession. They punctuated the sudden bursts of her orgasms. She dropped her head to her stepmother's shoulder, and trembled through the onslaught of pleasure. As the explosions within them dulled, Susan Blake spoke calmly.

"You and I can't do this, Jillie," she said softly. "I have a responsibility that I just can't ignore."

"Tell me you didn't want it too," the young woman said calmly, choosing to remain against her stepmother's shoulder.

Susan Blake said nothing. She could not deny that either.

*****

Nelson Crowe stepped out into the chill of the Saturday morning air. He stretched briefly, and set off grudgingly on a little jog. His stride was long and graceful, and natural, like he had been a runner in another life. The truth was, he absolutely loathed running. He had for as long as he could remember.

At the east-end of campus, he veered onto a mountain trail, and disappeared into the dense blanket of trees that covered the slope. The trail was well defined, and relatively easy to run. It was void of people at this early hour, and he relished the solitude, and the tranquil sense it offered him. He was almost beginning to enjoy himself when he spotted Pamela George just off the path ahead of him. He slowed his pace, veered to his left, and began in her direction.

"Dammit, Pam," he huffed in displeasure when he was close enough for her to hear.

The woman laughed good-naturedly, and bolted on up the slope through the trees. Crowe increased his pace again, and followed a short distance behind.

Pamela George was an earthy kind of woman, wiry, with the energy to match. She was plain looking, and there was a tomboyish quality about her. Unruly natural blond hair framed a narrow face that never saw make-up, and her delicate skin was a pale alabaster. There was nothing about her that stood out. She wasn't beautiful, and she rarely bothered with formality or social graces, but she was some kind of a sexual animal. She loved to fuck more than anything and she especially loved fucking Nelson Crowe.

She stopped running when she reached the tiny secluded clearing well off the jogging path. It was surrounded by tall trees, and offered a perfect view of the dull gray skies above. She leaned against an immense fallen tree trunk that split the clearing in half almost equally, and waited patiently for her attractive black colleague to join her. Crowe reached the clearing a few seconds later. He walked slowly to her, placed both hands on the tree trunk, and bent over without looking at her.

"Wouldn't you ever just like to fuck like normal people?" he questioned, fighting to catch his breath. "Like in a bed."

"I'm an environmentalist, Crowe. I do it better in the wild," she teased.

The tall black man straightened, but before he could counter, she leapt at him, and wrapped skinny arms tightly around his neck.

"Besides, you and I fuck the way normal people oughta," she added. "I've missed you."

She pressed her lips tightly to his, and kissed him deeply. It was passionate, almost animalistic, the way their mouths and tongues fed together. Their teeth clashed and nibbled at each other's lips savagely. She countered every move his mouth made with her own.

Crowe let her slide to her feet again, and her hands went directly for the drawstring of his sweat pants. She ripped at the string until it came undone. She pushed the pants to his ankles and stared up at the long black hose that dangled lifelessly between his legs. She licked her lips, rose quickly, and she tore all of her clothes off.

"Are you nuts?" Crowe objected. "It's freezing out here!"

"I'm warm enough," she said quickly, and nodded at his cock. "The cold is going to make that thing feel even hotter."

She dropped to her knees, and began feeding his limp cock between her hungry lips before he could continue with his objection. She swallowed as much of the black meat as she could, and held still as it started to grow in her mouth. As it hardened, it pushed from her lips sticky and wet with saliva. She pumped her mouth rapidly, feeling the broad tip of his cock head bang roughly against the back of her throat with each thrust. It cut off all air to her windpipe, and her nostrils fared to accommodate her breathing. Crowe cupped the back of her bobbing head with both massive hands, and the woman responded by trying to push more of his cock down her throat.

When he was completely hard, she pulled back. Saliva strains stretched web-like from his stiff cock shaft to her thin delicate lips. She lurched to her feet, breathing heavily. She absently stroked between her legs as she stared at the big black monster she had awakened.

"I want it, Crowe," she breathed roughly. "Ohhhh, you know how I want it."

~~

"Hmmm, Girl's night...?" Jillian Blake asked with a calm smile, when Megan Wolff's sleepy eyes drifted open.

"Sometimes a girl's just gotta make due," the tall redhead smiled lazily.

She stretched under the weight and warmth of her roommates, and they too stirred awake.

"You three are in serious need," Jillian Blake grinned, thinking as she spoke. "...What if I could arrange it?"

"Arrange what?" Kacy Meris questioned, sitting up on the bed suddenly, spry and alert, as if she had never been asleep.

"I know a guy who would just love to accommodate you," Jillian Blake continued.

"Who?" Kacy Meris asked excitedly.

"Is he any good?" Megan Wolff asked on the heels of her roommate's question.

"Oh, he's very good," Jillian Blake laughed in a deliberate manner. "...Dr. Crowe."

"Professor Crowe?" Kacy Meris gasped. "...Are you serious...?"

Jillian Blake just grinned and nodded affirmation slowly.

"...He was one of my instructors last term," Erin Gault chimed sleepily, raising to one elbow. "God, I could never do it with..."

"Oh, yes..., you could," Megan Wolff interrupted. "You're in more serious need of a big black cock than any white woman in the history of the world."

Her roommates and Jillian Blake broke into a shrill chorus of laughter.

"That's not fair," Erin Gault huffed in a flare of embarrassed indignation that softened a short moment later. "Right now..., any cock would do."

"So, why not a big...long...black one?" Kacy Meris teased. "Besides, Professor Crowe is too fine."

"It is true what they say about...?" Megan Wolff chuckled seductively.

"Expressly," Jillian Blake winked with a sharp nod. "Wanna discuss the details?"

She looked at each of her friends. Kacy Meris nodded her head rapidly with an excited giggle. Erin Gault fought with herself for several moments, but she finally nodded grudgingly. Megan Wolff only smiled faintly at Jillian Blake, and winked devilishly.

"How do you know he'll play along?" she questioned curiously.

"Oh, this is just the kind of extra-curricular activity that Dr. Crowe excels at," Jillian Blake said slowly. "So..., let's talk."

She began removing her clothes unhurriedly, a tiny smile fixed upon her lips.

~~

Pamela George lay atop a generous bed of fallen leaves with her legs stretched high and wide in offering toward the angry gray skies above. Nelson Crowe lay between them, pumping the length of his rock hard black staff into her with the force of a ten-pound sledgehammer. Her tiny hole was stretched to capacity, and was crammed full as well.

"Ooooooo," the woman groaned deeply. "I'm going to cum again!"

Her fingers dug into his strong smooth shoulders, and she held on for dear life as she rode the edge of the cresting tide inside her.

Now!" she screamed. "Ooooo, shit, fuck me!"

Nelson Crowe did just that. Her eyes glazed over, and stared to the sky. They blinked hard and grew intense as if she could suddenly see beyond the veil of dull gray clouds on into heaven. Her body bucked violently as the orgasm crashed.

Crowe pulled his cock from her suddenly, and rose to his knees. His cock fluttered under the weight of its hardness. It glistened in abundance with her thick pussy lubricant.

"Don't tease me, you beautiful bastard," she gasped hard, her eyes wild with passion. "Give it to me."

The tall black man said nothing. He flipped her onto her stomach effortlessly, mounted her, and drilled himself into the tight depths of her ass. She cried out as his forceful thrust drove her into the ground. She clawed at the soft earth before her, and inched slowly along trying to dislodge to thick hot poker that was wedged so tightly in her ass. Crowe just followed, pumping her like a mad dog in heat.

He pushed at her roughly a final time, and it set forth a wave of unbelievable pleasure within her. She wedged an arm under her prone body, and clamped the palm of her hand to her swollen clit. She stroked furiously as she felt the attractive black man empty his balls inside her rectum. The sticky cream spilled in globs into her hand, and she spread it over her twitching gash and clit. The ground suddenly seemed to tremble beneath her, and a tidal wave of orgasmic bliss crashed with tremendous force. She screamed out her release at the top of her lungs, and collapsed completely. She lay still. The light in her eyes dulled with every labored breath until everything faded to black.

*****

Jillian Blake wasted no time in getting to Nelson Crowe on the following Monday morning. She was waiting for him outside of his office when he arrived, as he usually did at 6:30 A.M., long before his other colleagues and staff. It had just become habit since his daily schedule of classes and sideline sexual adventures left little time to get anything else accomplished.

Within a short span of time, the pretty young coed was on her knees blowing his black cock enthusiastically as he barricaded the office door with the weight of his body. When he finally exploded in her mouth, she dutifully swallowed every drop of his tart seed, sucked his lance clean, and tucked it back into his pant. She smiled broadly with a hint of accomplishment as she rose, and straightened her clothes.

"And, what was that for?" the tall black professor asked, mildly curious as he zipped his pants.

"I've been thinking about you," the young woman replied, and flopped into one of the chairs before his desk. "I could almost taste you in my mouth this morning."

"Oh, really," Crowe chuckled as he walked to the comfortable chair on the other side of the desk, and sat down.

"Yes, really," the woman said, and grinned calmly. "That aside, I told you that I would be calling on you to perform a few tasks, so, I'm calling.

The attractive black professor just leaned back leisurely in his chair and stared at her without offering a response, but she was certain that she had his undivided attention.

"I have three friends who...require the kind of talents you have...," the young woman began.

"Hold it," the black professor interrupted. "Before you continue, I think you should know that your stepmom has a...policy, we'll call it, about fraternization with co-eds."

Jillian Blake peered at him serenely. It was her turn to offer a silent response.

"As you can probably guess," he continued. "It's not allowed."

"Hmmmm," she muttered softly. "So, how does this rule apply to what's gone on between you and me, and my stepmom?"

She asked the question slowly, carefully, wanting him to clearly understand every word. Nelson Crowe recognized the contradiction immediately, and he had no answer for her aside from a slight hunch of his shoulders, and a sheepish little grin.

"Well, you certainly are the exception, aren't you?" he offered.

"I really don't think this is a matter you should concern yourself with," she said matter-of-factly. "She's at battle with her own demons."

"Perhaps not," Crowe smiled. "But, I can tell you that she won't like this one bit if she finds out."

"So, she doesn't have to find out," the young woman said with a grin. "Not yet, anyway."

He could almost see the wheels turning inside her head, and it was clear to him that the pretty coed was confident about the battle of wills that waged on between her and her stepmother. She was winning it handily. Crowe felt his cock spring to life again, and in that very moment, he made his final decision.

"These friends of yours..., are they...?" he asked, with mounting interest.

"Drop dead gorgeous," she offered.

"... ... ...All right," he said, after what he deemed the appropriate pause.

Jillian Blake's definitive nod sealed the new pact between them without fanfare, and Crowe was appreciative, because the hallway beyond his office door had come to life with activity.

"I've got to go," the sexy young woman said softly, and rose from the chair. "My friends will be in touch."

"The blow job," he said suddenly, still mildly curious. "Was it suppose to serve as incentive?"

She turned back at the door.

"I don't do anything I really don't want to do, Dr. Crowe," she said, with a seductive little smile, but in a tone that was every bit serious. "...Give my friends your best, and there'll be a bonus for you when you're done. Something very fresh."

He watched the sexy young woman go through the door, and close it quietly behind her. He chuckled softly, and went to work on the stacks of paper on his desk.

*****

Early that afternoon, Susan Blake embarked on her customary trek through the building to greet and speak with students and faculty. The visibility of faculty administration had great importance in day to day life on a college campus. It put people at ease, and gave the sense that all is well and in control.

Susan Blake was a masterful communicator. She knew how to listen, how to cut directly to the heart of any issue and exact the appropriate solution, and how to impart genuine empathy when a meaningful solution was way beyond her control. She was as masterful at the disarming of her detractors, and the doting of praise upon her supporters. As Crowe listened to the exchange of pleasantries and dialogue in the hallway beyond his office door as she approached, he had to marvel at the pretty dean's savvy and leadership skills.

He was still smiling when she stepped into his doorway. The attractive woman eyed him inquisitively, and said nothing immediately. Crowe silently admired her wardrobe selection, a conservative burgundy suit and crème colored blouse, white stockings, and short heels that matched the color of the suit perfectly. He finally gave a nod of approval that the pretty dean mistook for a silent greeting.

"Dr. Crowe," she greeted, with a tiny smile.

"Dean Blake," he replied pleasantly. "How are things?"

"Busy," she said cheerfully.

"I understand perfectly," he said, nodding at the pile of papers on his desk.

"Well, the holidays will be here soon," she went on, leaning against the doorframe and folding her arms.

"There is a God," he laughed cordially.

"Listen, can you drop by my office later?" she asked, in a business-like manner. "I'd like to talk to you."

"Sure," the black professor nodded. "What's up?"

"Nothing too pressing," she replied, and pushed away from the doorframe.

"Ok," he said calmly.

"Good. See you later," she said with a smile.

She disappeared from the doorway as quickly as she had appeared. Crowe quickly checked his watch, and went back to the work on his desk without a thought to their exchange.

*****

They fucked each other like it was their last night on earth. It had become the way that they initiated all of their late evening meetings. Eventually, they would get around to any business they had, but never before they expended the sexual energy that raged between them like a live current of electricity.

Crowe lay stretched on the office carpet, his pants at his ankles, and his shirt ripped open. The pretty dean squatted above him, her hands resting firmly on his muscular black thighs for balance. She pumped her firm shapely ass furiously, fucking herself through one mind-shattering orgasm after another.

"Oh, god, Crowe, give me your cum," she moaned suddenly, shuddering as another orgasmic blast shook her body. "I need to feel it."

Crowe rolled onto his side, letting the tightly wound dean slid to the floor. She lay back hastily, spread her legs as far apart as her snug suit skirt would allow, and watched the powerful figure of the black professor crawl between them. He split the center of her drooling pussy neatly, and pushed into her to the hilt.

Susan Blake gasped sharply, and her pretty eyes sprang wide as he slammed his pelvis into hers. She gave a hard push with her hips, and raised her ass from the carpet. Crowe quickly slid his enormous hands beneath her, rammed her hard once more, and caught the quivering globes as her hips fell heavily to the floor.

He began a slow enticing grind against her. It was a signal that he was going to rifle his load soon, and the pretty woman locked her heels at the small of his muscular back to keep him from pulling free of her. Crowe stabbed her overheated hole hard and deep, forcing her to unlock her heels. She pressed the soles of her stockinged feet to the plush carpet, spread her knees wide, and let him have his way.

The black professor thrust as deeply as he could. She felt his leaden balls slam against her upturned ass as he began to rock powerful hips back and forth. Susan Blake thrashed madly beneath the pressure of his grinding, and exploded with a scream as she felt his warm seed pour, soothing her inflamed cavity.

She collapsed heavily, and lay still, exhausted. Her breathing was ragged, her face sweaty, and her blond hair tangled and damp. She pulled his arched body closer, and kissed him passionately. After a long silence, he pulled back, grinned, and settled atop her.

"God," she breathed, with an exhausted smile. "Do you fuck every woman the way you fuck me?"

"How is it that I fuck you?" Crowe asked, in a soft tone that was deep and rich and sexy.

"Like I was the last woman you were ever going to have," she replied, aroused by even the mere sound of his voice.

Crowe smiled, but said nothing.

"Do you?" she questioned, suddenly a little more than curious.

"Maybe...it's just the way you feel it," he said coolly.

"So careful, so non-committal," she said, and smiled into the deep brown eyes that watched her closely. "Yet, you excite me beyond belief."

The long black man responded by kissing her. It was very gentle, and he hoped that it told her all she needed to know. Finally he pulled back again. He rested his forearms and elbows against the carpet on either side of her.