Forget-Me-Not Dahlia

This is wrong. I shouldn't let him see me like this! Dahlia agonises.

George dips his tongue beneath her lips, licking up, flicking his tongue across her clit. "Oh ohh" She moans out. A rich spicy flavour, full of heat and laced with salt meets his eager taste buds. "No don't," she weakly moaned before his tongue was once again circled her opening, his nose nuzzling at her clit. Her body longed, it ached and was impatient, but it did nothing to move her.

"Oh please George… don't," Dahlia slid down, her back on the strong oak of the desk. His tongue lapped up her nectar. Concentrating on her gasps, ignoring her desperate pleas to stop, he started to push his tongue into her opening. Revealing in its tight tugs, the sexy slush of her juices and the beautiful bucking it created.

George plunged a finger in and watched her writhe and moan "Oh please…" as he stroked her walls with come hither movements. Dahlia couldn't understand how he could evoke reactions that others had failed to awaken. Previous short-lived boyfriends went for a fumble in her jeans and hard kisses, provoking nothing but frustration. But now thinking about his kisses… the one in the park… it had felt like the promise of satisfaction. George was now using that kiss more intimately.

Lips press around her bud. A metal rain of staples showers the floor as Dahlia reaches out for something to hold onto. All her energy is being pulled towards her abdomen. She strains and arches her back against the desk, her toes clutching at the edge. Her knees are spread like the petals of a flower. She holds her breath as another pulse climbs and holds for a moment of pure pleasure. She can feel him making pleasing moans onto her clit becoming excited by the reaction he's eliciting in her.

George presses another finger into her opening, feeling her jump from the surprise. Dahlia's squirming slows. He holds back, wondering if he's hurt her, but her pace picks up again. She tries desperately to control the pleasure as she flexes and strains her muscles. He too can feel the muscles of her slick walls squeezing and clamping at his fingers. Watching as they slide easily on her essence. Enjoying the feel of her greedy cunt swallowing his fingers, craving more.

George sucks and flicks his tongue across her clit once more; torrid bursts of energy run along her labia. Dahlia relishes in the moments of mounting pleasure that greet her sooner and sooner. The movement of his rigid fingers challenges George's will, his cock straining for similar access. He relinquishes his hold on her. Dahlia first thoughts, as her pleasure dies away, were that George had brought her here only as torture. Her cunt ached for the catalyst to her release. Release that was now left untouched. Locked within her.

George stood before her. Dahlia was no longer in the grasp of unintelligible pleasure. Lifting herself up on her elbows she saw his hand swept down to the crotch of his trousers, rearranging the uncomfortable stiffness within. Observing the large protruding rise in his trousers, she suddenly felt more afraid and very aware of her impending, inescapable, coupling with him.

Too encumbered by clothes, George pulled at his shirt till it relented and opened. His shoes and socks were quickly put aside. His straining cock twanged on the waist of his trousers and boxers as he fought and rejected them in favour of full nakedness. He seemed to present himself to her for assessment. He gazes at her astonished face; her eyes moving over his manly chest with lightly dappled golden brown chest hair that trails into his slightly darker bush. She can't help but stare with fascination at the cock, which grows from his bush, its perverse curve jutting from his body. It's head a dark pink, its heavy sac, bulging, the foundation to the rigid column above.

Dahlia's cheeks were still pressed tightly against the desk and just above them a wet open Eden waiting to be filled. Juices trickled from her cunt onto the desk. Anxiety crosses her face. The fixed fervid observation of her cunt causing her legs to falter. She inches them closer together, but George has grabbed her knees, prizing them apart again, delving two warm fingers once again into her opening. A small startled yip turned to a contented sigh at the intrusion, which once again started to excite her awaiting orgasm.

Burying his fingers deeper still he moves them feeling her tightness. Could it be? Despite her dampness she still felt incredibly tight. He wanted desperately to plunge deep into her, but he suspected this was to be her first time? He felt quite depraved, but he needed to ask her.

"Have you ever…?"

"No."

"This is going to be your first time?"

"…Yes" Blood rising from her stomach to her face. Colouring her cheeks.

"You can trust me."

Then nobody had ever seen this much of her. Nobody had ever seen her laid out like she is for me now. Ready to be taken, body pert, trembling, apprehensive. He'd have to restrain himself, but he cherished the thought that he was to be her first. His Dahlia, fresh and ready. Secretly he rejoices.

Almost definitely not on birth control then. George then for a few seconds imagined her ripe with his seed. He'd have to save spilling in his seed in her for another time. Out of a desk draw he pulled out a box of condoms, which he'd brought a few days ago, out of some sort of unconscious optimism. He wasn't an arrogant man, just hopeful. Dahlia watched him roll the condom down his shaft, confirming his intent. She imagined the ever closing moment she'd surrender to his pulsing cock.

Dahlia had held her thoughts back, but now here she was locked in a room with a naked man and his twitching sheathed cock. She let the thoughts go that were crowding the corners of her mind and found that she wanted him. She hopelessly desperately wanted him, as he wanted her.

George fell towards her and the bang of his flat palms on the desk either side of Dahlia's waist gave her a start, which was quickly quelled by the professor tending to her lips. George's warm breathe mingled with hers and she swallowed to pull back her lust. She fell back with his cock pressed firmly into her mound. He slowly humped her slit, sliding his cock up and down her folds, her pubic hair tickling the pulsing veins on his engorged penis. His slides became slicker as his cock became coated with her warm juices. Mirroring their sliding thrusting tongues and slick lips.

Tiny moans escaped from Dahlia's mouth as George's hardness stroked her clit. She arched into his cock, and wriggled forwards to create more friction. He could both feel and hear her wet juices lubricating his cock. From the look he saw in her eyes he knew it was time to take her, to fuck her on his desk, there would be no more waiting. He was so excited by her and amazed at his patience, but he had waited long enough.

He heard her let out a small whimper "mmm… Professor… George…" It was soft and desperate.

George halted his thrusts making her quicken her pace, bucking on the desk with desperation but he leaned back from her. She lifted her head forwards ready to protest, but she caught his look and saw his erection jutting out from his body, hard, anxious, covered with her juices pointing directly at her slick cunt.

Before Dahlia could give him words of encouragement, George had leaned back in, guiding his cock to her opening. She gazed at his cock as he circled it at her opening. Biting the side of her lip, she moves her feet so they clung to the edge of the desk, her toes curling and straining, anticipating the hot thrusts of the professor. He caught her whimpers and whispers and smiled knowing his efforts were being rewarded.

George looked up locking her eyes to his as their fluttering stomachs meet. He kissed her deep with the passion from every bone; he arched his back, tightening his body as the head of his cock dimpled her opening.

"As you said goodbye, I almost died… I almost died! You left me broken hearted. You've a lot to make up for".

Simultaneously in one long slow push he plunged deep into her.

Watching her face form a rousing expression of half pleasure, half pain; his mind became completely devoted to the feel of his cock buried deep in her tight cunt. She let out a short moan and breathed heavy with elation. Stiff nipples rubbed on his chest as he leaned down for another all absorbing kiss. The breath from her near silent murmur was cast into his mouth.

George's cock hardened like it hadn't in years, its ability to stiffen in recent times affected by indifference to his lovers. It was all because of some unknown quality that his new love provoked in him, its description unable convey its perfection. His still cock inside her felt the ripple of her muscles as they adjusted to such an unfamiliar intrusion.

George wriggled closer still until he could feel her soft pubic hair tickling his stomach. She could feel the warm thrill of earlier sensations began to surface again.

"Oh please, please…" She pleaded.

"Oh fuck, is this happening? George questioned, bewildered by Dahlia's urgency.

Slowly he rocked back and forth, their combined juices started sliding together, mixing creating a snug and conducting connection between them. The thought of stopping the pain that was burning at her opening was secondary to the absolute comfort and pleasure in being filled by George.

George stood firm on his feet, sliding his hands over her breasts and down her side, before his thumb found the small bump of her clit. The fingerprint of his thumb circled around the sensitive mound.

"Ohhhhahhh"

Dahlia's palms splayed on the desk. Her back arched. Moist air from her pants hit the desk, as the yellow flame of sexual frenzy, turned to blue. Desire overwhelmed pain and logical thought. Fiery speaks ran from his strokes through her body. His thrusts offering the answer to her desire.

"George…further, … harder please… ah…" was all Dahlia could manage to put to words before George groaned, withdraw and thrust back in hard shifting the desk on its feet. His balls hit the warm juices on her bum, as he planted himself deep within her. Relentlessly he drove his cock back and forth into her cunt. Her buttocks clenching and relaxing with his thrusts. Her toes wriggling frantically.

"OHHHH ohhhhh OHH," "Ohhhhhahhohhh," simultaneously they let out moans that filled the room. Catching each other's eye, they both smiled and let out a small laugh.

Dahlia's eye caught sight of something else. She lifted her head and saw his dick ripping into her cunt. Their perverse connection startled her; she watched the length of his cock drive into her then slide, slick with her juices, from her cunt.

Pulses of energy mounted in Dahlia's cunt, her clit, her thighs and deep within her core. Every time the pleasure lasts a little bit longer. Tiny muscles pulse together with his thrusts collecting their energy and pushing it hot back through her body. Her muscles squeezing altogether, bringing in her walls around his cock, releases flashes of heat throughout his entire body. Followed by prickles of pleasure, alighting long forgotten deeps of his flesh.

"Oh ple…ase ohh ahhhhuh mmmm"

Continuous whimpering falls from Dahlia's lips combining with his stuttered breaths.

George collected her in his arms from the desk. His hands stroke her body as waves of pleasure surface, and slowly wane. His sexual energy was being leaked through her skin. As they kiss her moans turn into squeal of pleasure that fills his mouth. Her muscles ripple and grab at his cock as her orgasm spreads like an immaculate heat through her body. His cock twitched in her, tending to her orgasm.

"Mmmm ohhh aaaaaaaaahhhhh fuck George!"

Dahlia called his name many more times. Hearing her squeal his name made a coursing surge of pleasure shot through his thrusting cock. He can feel hot juices being squeezed from her cunt, and his bum clenches on the cusp of release. His orgasm came hard and fast with her rippling orgasm rubbing his cock inside her sumptuous cunt. It tore through his body cascading to the smallest nerves in his skin. He thrust a few more times, spilling his seed.

"Ohhhurghh Dahliaaa."

With her face before him, he finds a few brown freckles covering her nose. She looks at his face; it flits between the face of her professor and the new one; the face of her lover. George just stares intently at the face of the woman he's always known he loves.