The Headmaster's Office 04: Dirty Talk

I had buried my face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder, timing my thrusts with the cadence of his story, straining to hold back the tide of my orgasm as each downward stroke opened me up anew, filling me with hot, hard flesh as if for the first time, slowly losing the battle as my ragged exhales began to take on volume, soft squeaks of delight at first, but now becoming louder cries of abandon that I vainly tried to stifle against the hard muscles of his shoulder.

"We're over the beach now, almost safe, and with the last of my strength I take us up the face one last time. But I've lost control; I try to turn us out – and we almost make it – but we launch off the lip and take to the air, facing away from the beach at first but coming about as we fly; the nose of the board dipping and angling back down into the face. We fall from two meters above the crest, dropping with a force that would crush you, except we dive straight through the curl and round out on the swell below. The G-forces are too much; I prop my elbows to stop from crushing you, but I can't control my hips, and as we shoot out in front of the crashing wave, finally gravity wins and I slide inexorably into you."

"That's the one. Thank you," I cried, finally releasing my left hand and plunging desperately downwards, engulfing four inches, five inches, six, before my tiny, punished pussy convulses with spasms again, opened mercilessly by his unyielding shaft, my lips yawning so wide and stretched so tightly around the thickest part of his cock.

"Holy Jesus H. mother-fucking Christ," he cried as my burning, straining, vagina engulfed all but the last of his seven inches of iron. "What the ...."

But I had no time to bring him up to speed. My orgasm was past the point of no return. Held at bay for so long I could feel it coming now, not to be turned back, not this time. My pussy was still contracting and I was powerless to move, clamped onto his pole with my muscles refusing to let go of their prize. But I didn't want to let it go, I wanted the rest of it inside me before I was finally swept away, to feel his pubis grinding into mine, to feel his full length probe my innermost depths and push beyond them, just like his girth had already stretched my gaping labia beyond their usual limits.

Through clenched teeth I cried "Push!" as I arched my back and strained with arms and legs to capture that last, thickest, inch of manhood. He released my waist and closed his hands over my little bottom. Powerful muscles bunching in his arms, he obeyed my command, pushing and breaking my crushing hold on his shaft as that final, wonderful inch ploughed into my molten core.

I was coming. Rocking my hips and grinding against him, moving his huge tool around inside me, trying to stretch me and touch me in every direction at once while powerful waves of ecstasy blasted though the pleasure centres of my womanhood.

With three quick, powerful thrusts he pulled out of me and then rammed his shaft back home. On the last thrust I felt him swell again, his cock bulging massively inside me even though I was full beyond capacity. Cum rushed through his cock, flooding into me, bulging that huge vein on the underside of his dick. The first pump was blocked by the back wall of my pussy, mercilessly crushed against the tip of his erection. I arched back, changing the angle a little as he pumped again, this time emptying a huge, powerful stream of beautiful cum into the tight confines of my pussy, swirling back around his shaft and spilling though the junction where our pubic bones ground into each other.

With every pump of his powerful cock, another load of cum emptied into me and another explosion of pleasure rocked my body, now exhausted from the orgasmic release as I slowly began to relax and soften against his hard muscles of his upper body. With his cock still deep inside me and weakly pumping a few final bursts of cum, I raised my head and drew his lips down onto mine, kissing, searching out his tongue and then twining it in mine, nibbling at his lower lip while tears ran from my eyes and I thanked him in incomprehensible, breathless sobs.

He kissed back, murmuring his own gratitude, holding me tight against his body with one arm around my waist as he ran the other hand through my hair, finally breaking away from my lips and kissing along my jaw, my neck, and finally stopping with my earlobe pressed between his lips.

He held me silently for a few more moments, his cock had finally stopped pumping and I could feel it begin to soften inside me, then he whispered: "And then we rode through the foam all the way to the beach. The end."

We both broke into laughter. "Hmmm," I chuckled. "Weak ending. It's lucky you delivered the goods in the accompanying actions."

"How long did you ...," he began, not really knowing how to say it. "You know, did you have me ... inside ..."

"Pretty much the whole time," I smiled, as I reached back to retrieve the bikini bottom tucked into my bra. "It was my hand at first. You couldn't tell?"

"I did think it was a pretty amazing hand-job ...," he laughed as we both slipped back in to our bathers.

Changing subject, I asked "What's all that white water out there?" pointing down the beach and out to sea maybe a kilometre.

"That's Wedding Cake Island," he said. "It's just a big rock formation a couple of metres above the water. Even with the small waves it's a bit of a washing machine at high tide, but it'll be really romantic later on."

"Why?" I asked. "Do the seals come in and fuck? Cos girls don't really find that stuff romantic."

"No, low tide is right on sunset tonight. Get it?" he said, as if that explained it.

"Is low tide especially romantic for surfers?" I probed further, eyebrows knotting.

"Low tide at sunset means full moon, right?" he said.

Does it? How would I know?"Right ..." I said, a little dubiously.

"And where does a full moon rise?" He was leading me to the answer, but I couldn't see it yet.

"In the sky?"

"In the east!" he explained. "And which way is the ocean in Sydney?"

"East!" I yelled, excited that I had finally answered one right. "So as the sun goes down over the city, the full moon will rise over the water, and we can watch it from the rocks of Wedding Cake Island because it's low tide." He smiled, proud that I had been listening, even if I hadn't worked any of it out for myself. "How do you know all this?"

"People think surfers are dumb," he said, "but if you want to be a professional surfer you need to be and amateur meteorologist and an amateur astronomer as well. And Wedding Cake is famous with surfers. It's ANZAC day in a couple of weeks and all the Coogee surf community goes out for a commemoration."

"Oh," I said, disappointed. "So there'll be a lot of surfers out there later?"

"Look around," he said. "The surf's terrible. There aren't any surfers here now and I don't think there will be later. Do you want to go out there?"

Me, Rupali and Spike; a secluded private island and the full moon rising over the ocean: oh yes, we were going out there. I leaned in close and whispered in his ear "I want you totake meout there."

His shorts now sitting comfortably for once, we left the water and went back up the beach. Rupali had put her top back on, rolled over, and smeared Reef Oil all over her front until she glowed. Her sarong covered her eyes, but a smile still curled at the corners of her mouth.

Belinda LaPage
Sydney, Australia, 2014