Latina's History Class

The other girls in the class nodded their agreement.

“Most of my lovers have been like that, too,” Latina agreed. “But I don’t think he was controlling it, it was just a natural and involuntary reaction to coming inside the woman he loves. He did that EVERY time we made love, and he still does. EVERY time!”

“With all that throbbing,” Sally asked, “Did he come again?”

“Not right away. He rolled me onto my right side, and he lay nearly perpendicular to me, with his cock still buried deep inside of me. He plunged in and out of me like this 3 or 4 times, and I had my third orgasm of that night. He kept plunging VERY slowly in and out, and he waited for me to finish coating his lovely cock with my eager juices, before he came inside me again. In one night, I had gone from never having experienced an orgasm at all, to having THREE! I lay on my left side, with his right arm under my side, and his left arm wrapped around my back. My head was under his arm, and my left hand rested on top of his chest, with my right hand on his hip. I felt so safe in his arms.”

“So what happened to this guy?” the blonde Jessica asked.

“I married him, of course! It’s been almost five years, and I lost count after about 1,000 orgasms in just our first year together.”

The next day, Latina wrote June, 1997 on the blackboard.

“What happened on THAT date?” Tom wanted to know.

“He turned my birthday into a week-long celebration. Each evening for a week before my birthday, he gave me a present that showed a great deal of creativity and imagination, a gift that was unexpected and yet EXACTLY what I needed and wanted. And every night during that week, he also gave me the gift of a hot, new sexual technique. These gifts ALSO showed a great deal of creativity and imagination, and were unexpected and yet EXACTLY what I needed and wanted. The gifts and the sex reaffirmed how deeply he truly loves me.”

“That’s it? You’re not going to tell us the DETAILS of this date?”

“No, you can read the rest of the story on the Internet.”

She wrote on the board:

http://www.literotica.com/storyxs/stories/lb_ir_1001_e0.shtml

Latina then wrote another date on the blackboard:

September 12, 1998.

“That’s another historic date for me. All my life, I had fantasized about making love in a waterfall. Thanks to Frank, I’ve now made that fantasy a reality SEVERAL times. But September 12, 1998, was the first and most memorable time. You can read about it at:

http://www.literotica.com/storyxs/stories/lgs_ir_1001_e0.shtml

“January 1, 2000,” she wrote now.

“That’s the day he perfected his new tongue technique. He extends his tongue way out, and he VERY slowly licks across his upper lip, from one corner to the other. The secret is, he does that WHILE his mouth is pressed tightly up against my clit!” Now Latina wrote:

http://www.literotica.com/storyxs/stories/mtmtb_ir_1001_e0.shtml

I expect you to read up about all three of these dates that I consider so very historic and memorable in my OWN life, and be prepared to answer questions about them on a test next week.

On Monday, Latina was surprised how well all of her students did on the test, and how enthusiastic they had all become for the same history class that had bored them so much just a week before. “Every one of you got question 4 right,” she beamed proudly. “You all knew how I knew that the party hostess had been sucking her husband’s cock the night before.”

“Ooooh! Ooooh!” Jessica called. “I KNOW this one. It’s because she had the same candy stain around her mouth from her husband’s edible underwear, as you had from sucking your OWN husband, right through HIS edible underwear. Am I right? I mean, am I right?”

“Yes Jessica, ALL of you had this answer right. You all did GREAT on this quiz. I’m glad and proud to see you all taking such an interest in history now. And tomorrow, we’ll talk about the most recent historic event.”

Just before the bell rang, Latina wrote on the blackboard: “March 2, 2001,” and she said, “We’ll talk about THIS historic date tomorrow. That day is permanently etched in my mind in EVERY detail! The sights, the sounds, the sensations, AND the date! And THIS historic event should definitely be recent, relevant, and interesting enough for you guys to start enjoying history class again.”

-- End of Part 1

Start of Part 2

The next morning, Latina strode confidently into class, feeling fiendishly sexy in only her large, cotton football jersey that barely reached a quarter of the way down her dark, smooth, shapely thighs. The jersey had been a gag gift from Frank, emblazoned with the team player number “69” --her favorite playing position in her all-time favorite sport. She deliberately reached up high on the blackboard as she wrote, so that her jersey would ride up high and show-off her skimpy, lacy purple panties underneath--the o0nly other item of clothing she had on (she was even barefoot and braless). She knew that her outfit was setting just the tone she wanted as she wrote “March 2, 2001” across the very top of the board, stretching high on tippy-toes so everyone could really SEE her pretty little panties as she wrote.

“I promised to teach you about one of the most recent dates that I consider historically significant,” Latina beamed. “The evening of March 2, 2001, was a rainy and windy night. I started out the evening in the very jersey and panties that you see me in now, showing off my bare feet and dark legs, just as I am doing for you now. But for some reason, by the time I went to bed, I no longer wanted to dress this way. Independently, we both decided to go to bed completely naked. I really don’t think that either of us started out thinking about anything romantic or sexual. It’s just that we are so used to cuddling-up naked together whenever it’s a stormy night, holding each other warm and safe against the horrible weather just outside our window. Usually it is nothing more than that. And the evening of March 2, 2001, started out just that way, too, just cuddling against the storm, just like so many previous stormy nights.

After we had held each other for a while, I turned on my left side, ready to fall asleep. My loving husband also turned on his left side, cuddling up behind me, spoon fashion. He draped his strong, manly right arm over my curvy right hip, across my waist, and his hand cupped under my bare left breast. His index and middle finger lightly pinched, in open scissor-fashion, on both sides of my left nipple. For my part, I reached around behind me, and I rested my open palm on his right outer thigh, feeling the intoxicating combination of thick, masculine hair on top and smooth skin under that. Thus positioned, we both fell asleep, lulled and soothed by the feel of each other’s familiar naked skin, the warmth of each other’s bare bodies, and the tap of the rain as it pelted the roof and the window panes.

Frank tells me I was lightly snoring, the air escaping from my open lips to form a soft “pooooh!” sound. He said that he likes the gentle way that I snore, that it comforts him, and reassures him that I am still there at his side, that our love is still there, as strong and unshakable as ever.

I don’t know whether it was my soft snoring, or the patter of rain outside, or the dream-like awareness that he and I were naked in bed together. But Frank awoke about two hours later, and he couldn’t resist the impulse to softly kiss my shoulder-blades, with a feather-light touch of his sweet lips, while he massaged my back with his fingertips and his flat, open palms. His lips and hands very gradually increased in pressure and intensity--I mean, like once every 25 or 30 strokes of his hands or peck of his lips, I would notice a subtle increase in speed and pressure.

I softly moaned my approval and appreciation for how good his loving, romantic, non-sexual touch was making me feel. After about 30 minutes of his pleasurable massage on my shoulders and back, my soft “Mmmmm!” turned to a slightly-louder “Oooooh!” as my contentment led to my first subtle stirrings of desire way down deep in my purring pussy. I think he noticed this first subtle stirring of my arousal, as now his hands moved VERY slowly, gradually down my back, until after about another ten minutes, he began working-out a knot that I hadn’t even noticed, at the base of my spine. His soft, soothing, loving, yet strong and HIGHLY masculine touch there made me conscious of just how sore my lower back had been until then, and just how much better his attention there was making me feel. His soft kisses followed behind his hands, down my back, until he was kissing the base of my spine.

His long, thin index finger slowly traced the crease where my ass meets the tops of my right leg. Just when one finger had finished tracing across the crease of my ass, and I thought he was all done, his middle finger unexpectedly followed his index finger in tracing my ass crease. Now both fingers repeatedly walked across the base of my ass, sometimes slowly, sometimes faster, sometimes tracing my ass-crease with one finger and sometimes with two. I purred with delight at his varying touch across my ass. I realized then that this evening, he would keep me guessing, never quite knowing what new touch or what new pleasure to expect from him next. I guess that is when I first started to realize that this evening, March 2, 2001, would become very special and extremely memorable.

But I didn’t have a chance to think about that for long, because now his kisses followed his fingers in tracing across my ass crease. He slowly kissed his way across my right ass cheek, and then continued his kisses across my left ass cheek as well. His fingers gently slid between my ass cheeks, and spread them open just enough for his fingertip to massage my pouting outer pussy lips from behind. Like all of his previous actions that evening, his massage on the outside of my pussy started very slowly, barely touching me. His finger circled and swirled, and he VERY gradually increased his speed and pressure, as he had done throughout this wonderful and therapeutic massage.

I let out another contented, purring “Mmmmm!” That was my BIG mistake! He sensed that I was getting too excited too soon, and he determined to slow us both down. So he slowly withdrew his fingers from both my pussy lips and my ass. He then resumed his kissing and massaging, reversing direction up my back, returning toward my shoulders, where he had started. I felt as if his massage had been a movie that had been slowly building my interest in the plot for more than an hour, only to have the projectionist abruptly stop the film, stop any further forward development of the story-line, and start rewinding, frustrating me by showing me the first half of the film backwards now. I felt his warm, gentle hands and soft, soothing kisses retreat up my back, away from my welcoming pussy and ass. I groaned out my frustration.

But I needn’t have worried. Just as his kisses and caresses returned up away from my pussy and back toward my shoulders, he scooted himself forward, into my hips. Remember, he was still lying behind me, both of us on our left sides on the bed, both facing toward the window and the raging storm outside, while building toward a raging storm of our own right there in our bed.

What his forward shift into my hips did, of course, was to cause eight solid inches of warm, hard, throbbing, and VERY lovely cock to press firmly, wonderfully, into the crack between my ass cheeks. His bulbous cock-head pressed SO delightfully up into the base of my spine, that I moaned again, even louder than before. As he continued kissing all over my back and massaging my shoulders, his two-inch-thick cock rubbed and slid along the length of my ass crack and against my lower back.

I reached around behind me, and I began stroking up and down his toned, muscular leg, from his hip down to his ankle, and back up again. I could feel his smooth skin, as each dark hair on his leg brushed against my exploring fingertips.

His strong right arm now stretched so very lovingly across my hip and my waist, cupping under my soft-but-firm, round breasts, as his index and middle fingers pinched, rolled, and massaged my wide, dark, reddish-brown areolas and my hardening nipples. His fingers on my nipple, his kisses on my shoulders, his cock against my ass, and all of this after more than an hour of lovingly massaging my back--just how much pampering can one woman TAKE in one night? I was about to find out!

He moved his kisses from my shoulders, around to the side of my neck. His finger-tips delicately brushed my dark, shoulder-length hair out of his way. From behind me, he kissed and sucked all over the side of my neck, careful to avoid letting his teeth graze the tender, delicate flesh of my neck. His sucking lips applied just the right pressure against my neck to send me into a romantic swoon, without leaving a pesky “hickey” mark. Without missing a beat in his romantic neck-nuzzling, he let his fingers move down from my breasts, lovingly stroking and caressing my curvy hips, my slightly-rounded tummy, and my navel. All this time, his beautiful, thick cock continued to rock and sway all along the length of the crack between my ass cheeks.

I wanted--no, I NEEDED--to return the pleasure he was so slowly, sweetly, and selflessly giving to me. So I stopped rubbing my hand up and down his leg, and instead I moved inward to caress his smooth inner-thigh. Then moving inward to gently cup his huge, swollen balls. Then finally upward to encircle my small fist around his thick, pulsating shaft, the shaft that my starving pussy was already starting to crave so intensely.

Taking my actions as his cue that I was more than ready to play, his hand slid down from my navel, his finger-tips swirling in my thick carpet of dark pubic hair, applying steadily more pressure against my mound. He knew full well that my G-spot was directly underneath, on the INSIDE of where his fingers now pressed on my outside. Without even touching my pussy yet, he was ALREADY applying such sweet, subtle pressure to my G-spot! I thought myself to be SUCH a lucky woman, to have a man who knows EXACTLY when and where to touch me, who knows when and where I most needed his touch at any moment. I felt myself dampening in anticipation of those SAME finger-tips making much more DIRECT contact with my G-spot before too much longer.

As a true soulmate so often does, he seemed to read my mind now. He rolled me onto my back, and I moaned at the delicious thought that now I was about to get me some of my man’s sweet, pounding loving. But he was still in a mood to tease, and instead of giving me the thorough fucking that I thought I wanted and needed just then, he began kissing the front of my neck! “Don’t kiss me, FUCK me!” I thought. Once more, I grunted my frustration that his attention had yet again wandered from my hungry pussy. But as he kissed my neck, I started to squirm and twitch in delight, and I realized that he had made the right decision after all. He knew, and I knew, that by not rushing into an immediate fuck, by ever-so-slowly building my anticipation in this way, he was already ensuring that March 2, 2001, would join that short list of the most memorable days in my life.

His kisses moved down from my neck, into my cleavage, then circling from above my breasts, all around the outside circumference, past my under-arms, around the underside of my breasts, back up into my cleavage. Finally, his kisses spiraled inward, first encircling the circumference of my sensitive, wide, reddish-brown areolas. At last, his kisses spiraled all the way inward, zeroing-in on my nipples. The contact of his lips on my nipples soon enough made them big and rock-hard. His tongue swirled all over my right nipple and areola, then his lips sucked my right nipple up into his mouth, and his teeth began gently nibbling at my nipple. I thrust my chest upward to make closer contact with his mouth, and I began twisting and squirming with the sheer pleasure of it all.

His right hand snaked down from cupping my breasts, over my tummy, until his palm pressed on my triangle of thick, dark pubic hair, and I could feel his subtle pressure on my G-spot again. His long, thin middle finger slid across my throbbing, pulsating clit, down into my wetness, and curled along the top of my inner walls, until his curled finger-tip was directly massaging my G-spot. His thumb circled and swirled all over my engorged clit, while his fourth finger (the one next to his pinkie) slide right straight up into my ass. A finger on my G-spot, one on my clit, and one in my ass: sheer BLISS!

While the fingers of his right hand were simultaneously pleasuring my clit, G-spot, and ass, his left hand slid under me. His left hand now cupped, kneaded, and massaged my ass cheeks, and again traced the creases where my ass cheeks meet the tops of my short but shapely legs.

Through all of this, his lips, tongue, and teeth continued to work-over my areolas and nipples, so I used my left hand to cup under my breast, holding it in place for his mouth, and enjoying the feeling of fingers cupping under my breast--even if they WERE my own fingers!

My hips began bucking up and down on our bed, as I twitched, shook, gyrated, and moaned from his simultaneous attention to my breasts, clit, G-spot, and ass. My shoulders still felt the tension-relieving pleasure of his earlier kisses there, my spine was SO relaxed from his earlier stress-releasing massage, and my neck was still tingling from his earlier romantic and sexy neck-nuzzling. In short, my whole body was on sensory overload, slowly heating-up, gradually building toward what I already knew would have to be one of the most incredible, absolutely-amazing orgasms of my life. I felt myself building toward a shattering climax that I knew would make March 2, 2001, one of the most memorable dates in my life, a true historic occasion.

I reached out, and I slowly rubbed my palm over his hardening shaft, before wrapping my fingers around his lovely cock and slowly, gently pumping him inside my fist.

“Mmmmm!” I cooed, “Nnnnnice cock! Is that ALL for ME?”

“All for YOU, honey. Only for YOU!”

As I slowly, teasingly pumped his long, thick, pulsating cock in my fist, I put on my sexiest, most-seductive little-girl voice. Whining like a spoiled brat, I moaned, “Mmmmm! MINE! Mine, mine, MINE!”

Frank chuckled at my mock-girlish glee. “Yes, baby, he’s ALL yours!”

I knew the deeper truth of his statement. While he had done some foreplay with previous girlfriends (you simply don’t get to be THAT good at cunnilingus without a LOT of practice), he had held-off “going all the way,” waiting until he would find his one true soulmate (again, lucky me, that I turned-out to BE his long-sought soulmate, and he turned-out to be the soulmate I had never found even through 17 years of my first marriage). On our very first time in bed together, he had given me that most precious gift of surrendering his virginity to me. So his cock really WAS all mine, as he said, because it had never slipped into ANY other woman but me. “Mmmm!” I cooed. “I AM such a very lucky, LUCKY girl!”

All this time, his thumb continued to circle and swirl and press on my clit, as his long, thin middle finger explored my inner walls and massaged my G-spot. As I coated his finger with ever more dampness, he moaned, “Mmmm! I just LOVE feeling you get so EXCITED!” His simple words made me buck even harder on his finger. Swooning, my eyes closed, I imagined that I was feeling his thick cock, not his slender fingers, circling, probing, and exploring every hidden nook and cranny of my hot, horny little love tunnel.

Just then, when I thought that the pleasure couldn’t GET any more exhilarating, my pussy betrayed my excitement to him, as she always does (the traitor!), by loudly smacking and squishing against his probing fingers.