Girl-Talk: My Priest, Your Teacher

Heart in her throat, she strode up to Henry's desk, joined the several others talking to him, managed a studied nonchalance as she asked a not-too-dumb general question, watched his eyes widen slightly as he realized what had happened. She could SEE that he noticed that her bra was gone. Did he get the message? And if so, would he PLEASE just tell HER what the message was, anyhow? She was simultaneously confused and horny as hell.

She was the last to turn from him as he announced resumption of the lecture. Back to her seat.

During the last half of the class, Henry managed to pass by her desk several times, and at one point she turned and leaned just right, and she was certain that he'd seen all the way down her blouse, gotten a clear look at her nipples standing up so hard and firm and sensitive.

Almost immediately after that, Henry had retreated to stand behind his lectern. She wondered why? Maybe she was having an effect on him after all!? She was in a royal quandary as the class approached its end: visions of Marcy kept coming up, and almost mocking her. But she couldn't decide what to do! Finally, at the end of the class, Henry announced that he would stay around for a few minutes to answer questions for anyone who wanted to talk.

Joan sat there, notes before her, thinking. What a confusing mental mess! What was she to do, anyhow? Around her, the other students were packing up and departing in a pell-mell rush, leaving only two or three others, all towards the back of the room. Henry walked over and leaned on her desk; she realized that he was making an almost blatant opportunity to look down her blouse again, and it both terrified and embarrassed her, while being ultimately exciting. She looked up at him, and, without any real thought, looked about the room, gauged the other students' distances and demeanor: they were talking amongst themselves, but would clearly be drifting over here to talk to Henry any moment.

Then out of her tumbled the most amazing sentence, delivered almost inaudibly, "I wonder, Henry - do you ever mess around with any of your students? The adult ones, I mean, not the kids?"

Good GOD! She felt the reaction flash through her whole body! How COULD she have said something like that? Marcy and the Priest revisited!

There was silence: the conversation elsewhere in the room vanished from her consciousness like water down a drain, leaving just her and Henry. With an enormous effort of will, she looked up at him: he had the most incredible, almost ecstatic expression on his face. Her heart stopped. What if he said YES? What would that MEAN?

Then his mouth was opening, his eyes were crinkling at the edges, what was he going to say or do? He spoke: the words rolled over her like thunder, a low whisper that filled the local universe.

"Why don't you just go sort of casually into the lab prep room behind the desk, and wait there for me while I deal with these other students?"

Joan couldn't believe this was happening: her actions seemed independent of her will. All she did was nod slightly, and start to stand up, reaching for her study materials. As she reached, so did Henry, and his forearm grazed like summer lightening across her hanging breast, slipping firmly over her erect nipple. Their eyes met over the electricity that sang through her brain.

As Henry turned towards the other students, he whispered "Better take off the REST of your underwear, too, before I get there!"

Stunned, she watched as Henry took up a conversation with the other students: she wondered if he'd actually thought to place himself just so, for suddenly the others all had their backs to her, and now they couldn't see her actions. She picked up her materials, glanced once at the open exit door for the classroom, the final escape hatch from this insane situation she had created. Then she darted breathlessly into the darkened prep room, heart racing, goosebumps and sweat everywhere on her body.

The door clicked behind her: she couldn't find the light switch, finally decided she really didn't want to find it, there was plenty of moonlight streaming in through the window. Her eyes adjusted, her heart hammered even harder. What the hell what the hell what the hell!? A work-table, empty, hard formica, lab-bench stuff. Butt height. Smells, dark, bio-lab smells, cardboard. How long until the sacrifice? Did Inca maidens feel this way while awaiting their final encounter with their priest? Sweat was trickling down her sides from her armpits.

Alone in the sexual dark, waiting.

Henry's voice was still going, in the outside world.

Her books went onto the floor, out of the way. Out of the way of WHAT? Her panties, the thong, quick, he'd said to take it off, to take off the rest of her underwear (the REST! - meaning, he'd for certain noticed that she'd taken off her bra!), off with the shoes, down with the thong, all onto the book-pile, what was she getting READY FOR anyway? Henry was almost a perfect stranger to her, she'd never even had a private conversation with him! But god almighty were her insides churned up. Should she strip? Was there etiquette and protocol for this sort of thing? Her underarms were really dripping now, her crotch was insanely juicy, and part of her brain noted that the blouse was going to need dry cleaning.

Henry's voice stopped. Silence. Shuffle shuffle, people leaving. More silence. Her hearing was phenomenally acute now, she could feel the amplification kick in! Adrenalin!

Thunk-click. The main classroom door went solidly shut. Small clicks, one two three four. Light switches. Must be dark in the room out there.

She shivered, waiting.

Footsteps stopped at the door to her sanctuary. A long pause, funny small noises, unidentifiable. She could HEAR her heart going now, wondered if he could hear it through the door. Then the tiniest of knocks. She started: somehow, she hadn't expected that politeness, a request for permission! One last possibility for escape, for reconsideration? Joan reached for the knob, turned it, opened the door with quivering hand. What had she gotten herself into, anyway?

Henry stood there in the dark, a detail-less dark form against the faint light suffusing the classroom from the street-windows. She couldn't see his face at all. Then he stepped forward, and she retreated a step, completely unsure. He turned to shut the door behind him. Her hyper-ears heard the double snap of the latch going home: then the thud of the deadbolt raised more goosebumps on her spine.

Locked in, together, with this near stranger. She must be NUTS!

Now, her dark-adapted eyes took him in, profiled for a moment. He was naked! And his cock was fully erect already, standing out in front of him up-curved, waving as he moved, leading him like the prow of a Viking warship. The glimpse disappeared as he turned back to face her, became almost lost in the room's darkness again. Her legs were shaking: what oddness, him naked, her only marginally dressed. There in the alien darkness, his hormones and manhood obviously fully engaged in the moment, her insides in spectacular turmoil.

What should she be doing? What did she WANT to do?

Then his hands were on her sides, fingertips caressing the underside of her breasts through the thin blouse, and she nearly died with the sensuality of that delicate exploration. Her nipples hardened even more, her areolas crinkling up tight and puckery, tingling. His face approached hers, she could feel the heat, feel his breath, then there were these delicious lips and tongue mutually exploring, in the nearly perfect darkness and silence.

Down at her waist his hands were dragging the hem of her blouse upwards, making the fabric slip, slither, and glide over her nipples, baring her tits to his touch: they were achingly ready. He broke the kiss to help her doff the blouse, and now her breasts were swinging free, she wondered if he liked them, at least the touch of them since they were almost invisible at the moment, wondered if either he or she was ever going to say a word. Maybe they really didn't need to? She started to say something, not sure quite what: he heard her intake of breath, touched his finger to her lips, whispered wordlessly, "Shhhhh!" She did so.

Now her nipples exploded with sensations as his head bent to lay his mouth against them, and god almighty how he could sense her response and echo it back into what he was doing! Under his mouth's touches, her whole breast was now as hard as its nipple! Then it was back to mouth-to-mouth, tongue-dancing, he tasted pepperminty and her nose was full of his quiet male-scents, then he was breathing through her nose, letting her do the same with him, back and forth, how incredibly intimate, how delicious, how like a dance, partnering, timing to one another's movements and needs!

Her hand slid down between them to grasp the solid tube of flesh he was sporting. Nice. Hard, a good size, lovely textures. She moved the skin over the shaft, pulled it up firmly to cover the head, not too tightly circumcised, lots to play with, extra nice indeed, felt his response through their mingled breathing, felt the glans grow against her palm.

He was pure male, and clearly every bit as interested in her as she was in him. Bi-directional rut! She could smell him clearly now over the room's background, sweat, deodorant, male-crotch musk, chalk dust, could also smell her own deeper and more pungent musk, wondered how he felt about that, forgot the question as his hand gathered her skirt material about her waist, slid expertly down her quivering belly, through the nest of her pubic hair and straight down the midline of the pussylips.

Her clit inflated, and she almost convulsed with the touch, but then his palm was against her mound and his finger was deep inside her sopping pussy, the curled middle finger pressing forward firmly onto her special spot, the place it had taken her so many years to discover for herself, and where no man had ever even bothered to look to date. The finger went straight for the wellspring of her belly-sensations, and she gasped through his mouth, marveling at how near she was to climaxing, god but all this was going so fast and so well! Already nearly there for the first time, a mere 20 seconds into his touchings. She was amazed, appalled, enthralled, all at once. Carpe carpe carpe indeed.

This could have been a disaster, easily, every childhood and teenage lesson-giver would have fainted at the whole idea of this situation: but now it had all the early earmarks of having been a magnificently GOOD decision. She spread her legs slightly to let Henry slip deeper yet. His fingertip wiggled the end of her womb, stirring up steep waves of pleasure that halted her breath and made her stomach clench delightfully.

Then he was lifting her, effortlessly it seemed, one arm around her shoulders, the other hand still carrying part of her weight on his pussy-finger, and he was laying her down on the cold formica in the pale, indirect moonlight, skirt bunched around her waist. He was spreading her legs wide apart, squatting down between them, and she gasped aloud as his mouth engulfed her clit, sucking and lapping, exploring, teasing out the corners of her sensation-envelope, up down around, tongue everywhere, apparently all at once, his fingers hard around her breasts pinching and caressing nipples, underarms, good god how many hands and fingers did he HAVE anyway?

Her legs levered her toes inwards, searching, up against his knees, over their tops, toes hypersensitive tingling over the hairs on Henry's thighs, finally finding his cock, pressing it between her insteps, feeling him throb there as she stroked slightly to and fro. Then his fingers appeared again, as if by magic, deep inside her pussy, curled YES exactly forward, and his tongue and those fingers together suddenly raised her whole butt high into the air off the table as she came violently and prolonged against his face and hand.

Suspended, she shook and howled, mentally, like a dog in heat. NOTHING like this had ever happened to her before, not with such sudden, back-wrenching intensity! Then, glowing and finally breathing again, she sagged silently down onto the table, with Henry hovering above her, barely visible in the light, a beatific grin on his face, and still not a word between them. Not necessary, either... their bodies were doing a fine job of talking. Such lovely orgasms, and from a stranger!

Then she realized with a start just how achingly empty her belly was, and how much she wanted it filled. She shifted her weight, felt her insides move around Henry's fingers. Her knees dropped sideways, exposing her sex to him blatantly, invitingly. He took the invitation, stood up, moved in between her widespread thighs, pulled her over to the edge of the table, and GOD how much she wanted him up inside her, and he knew it, he knew entirely too much, he was taking cock in hand now, stroking the velvet head up and down her greasy slit, teasing, prodding, making her hips buck upwards in begging anticipation of the penetration and release to come, she had never wanted a cock this way before, couldn't decide if this incredible surging need was demeaning or ultimately releasing and honoring to her innermost sensual self, discarded the question as irrelevant and unanswerable.

Then finally, finally he was raising her feet upwards, pulling her forward, and whoosh his cock slid all the way up inside her to bang against her cervix, all in one deep thrust, and good GOD he was pulling her feet together in front of her face, his cock was stroking all the way in and out of her dripping, drooling pussy just exquisitely, and now his tongue, that talented device that had done such nice things to nipples and clit, it was exploring the undersides of her toes, licking over her arches, then between her toes, finding nerves she had no idea existed, and all of which seemed to be connected directly to both clit and brain, and then his thumb was back on her clit and she was climaxing again hard and long and non-stop, hands clamped around the edge of the table beneath her, sweat pouring to slicken the table, letting her slide back and forth in time with Henry's powerful thrustings, feeling his balls slapping against the backs of her buttocks.

She was still coming, she couldn't breathe, and through her personal fog she wondered if Henry was ever going to come, she could handle that for sure, she wanted it, she was NOT going to do without it, but he was in no hurry, that was obvious and so terrifically welcome, his cock was hard as iron and ever so much more interesting and sensual than her dildo!

Then, as she came slowly down off her incredible string of climaxes, Henry pulled delicately out of her body leaving a Grand Canyon of emptiness within her, but he wasn't done, she could see the lust and need on his face now in the moonlight, and he was once more doing something different and new to her, taking her hands, directing them to her bottom, helping, silently showing, directing her to pull herself wide open for him and she complied oh YES willingly, whatever, if only that beautiful cock would come back for another visit, and he was folding her legs up against her chest too, the fingernails of one hand were grazing up and down the tender exposed backsides of thighs raising bumper crops of goosebumps, following the fingertips over nipples and tits and sides and underarms and lips and hair and earlobes and everywhere everywhere everywhere. She waited, breathless, soaking in all the sensations, an infinitely wide, infinitely deep receptacle, open, willing, eager, aching, she was everywoman now, the Ur-goddess, Astarte, fertility personified, ready, available, everlasting.

The way he had placed them, her fingers nearly covered her pussy opening and anus. Over her knuckles she felt his cockhead bumping, prodding, seeking, almost a disembodied force, an independent existence. Through her interlaced fingers it plunged, deep into her streaming pussy again, leaving lightening from its touches against the fingers as it entered and left, entered and left. Over and over and over again, becoming now a long, steady metronome of a fuck, just right, her body appreciated it, met every thrust with its own, the dance continued. Partners in pleasure. Then his fingers were on her clit again, and one set of her toes was back into his mouth, and she was drowning in the sensations, wondering how he managed to do all these things to her, with her, for her... at the same time.

Henry's cock left her pussy, and she felt it relocate a little lower in her 'tween-legs slit, touching her anus, right there in between her fingers. It didn't seem to be accidental, it felt interesting, and suddenly she realized what was going to happen, thought about protesting: this was entirely unexpected, it wasn't what she needed, it wasn't what she really wanted or thought she wanted, and it was SCARY to contemplate. Butts. Cocks. OhMiGawd!

But before she could protest or twitch or retreat, she felt her bottom expanding around the pressure from Henry's cock, felt her muscles clench briefly and then release, release completely and allow that wonderfully solid tube of cock-meat to slip into her ASS, right through her fingers, her body seemed to be in control and wanted this violation of her butt, this invasion of a new opening into her innermost privacy, a want she'd never dreamed would ever come over her. This strong deep wrong-entrance filling of her ass was incredible - amazing, hot, tight, full, the most astoundingly, unexpectedly erotic thing she'd ever felt. Nothing wrong or painful here, merely a whole new world of spectacular sensations to investigate.

When Henry slid deep into her butt, so deep he bottomed out against her upraised buttocks and she could feel his tight balls against her at the end of that stroke, she could almost SEE a shockwave of pleasure spreading, in slow motion, like the shockwaves in movies of atomic explosions! It started from her stretched anus and was flowing like a smoke-ring up around her bottom, up over her folded legs, across her nipples and shoulders and neck and finally coalesced in her brain, and now she understood, exactly what it meant to BE POSSESSED, for this man Henry was in possession of her in so many ways at once, and she was so WILLING to have it be that way, it wasn't a bad thing at all, and her whole bottom opened to receive his thrusts into this new space within her, welcoming, cajoling, ecstatically joyful.

It didn't take fifteen strokes before she felt him tighten up and go whole-body hard, felt his final few strokes change rhythm and depth and urgency, felt his cock swell deep inside her, and finally he exploded at his farthest reaching within her, hot, wet, sensual, lusty spurts of come deep in her butt, clear and strong and regular like the pealing of a church bell. Her whole body arched up to meet him with her own renewed climaxing, her clit and pussylips writhing under his pressing, rocking thumb.

For tens of seconds they remained motionless as each savored the last dying spasms and echoes of climax, Henry's cock fully embedded in Joan's bottom, her clit throbbing against his pubes, his balls rubbing gently against her buttocks, sweat dripping from his face onto her softening breasts and relaxing belly.

Had she ever, in all her life, felt so completely satisfied and drained? Not a chance! She could tell from Henry's throbbings and quiet, sexy, no-longer-urgent noises, that they had enjoyed themselves equally. How long would he stay hard up there inside her, anyway, and where had he learned to cuddle like this after such an explosive job of hard-rock fucking? This was terrifically nice, this fucking and cuddling business that they seemed so instinctively good at, together.