Student and Teacher Ch. 02

Given Damon's two previous climaxes, it wasn't surprising that he took a while to finish the job. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours for Iris until she lost all sense of time; it was as if she had spent her whole life in this position and being subjected to this unusual procedure. At last she heard Damon's anticipatory groans, and then the flood of his discharge poured out of him—at the exact time when his fingers coaxed an intense, shuddering orgasm out of her as well.

They were both of them seemingly locked in this culmination of physical pleasure, and both their climaxes seemed to go on forever. Finally he stopped pumping, but remained buried in her to the hilt. She was still trembling from her own paroxysm, but eventually she settled down also. Only now did the enormity of what she had done—or had done to her—waft over her.

"Can you please come out of me now, Damon?" she pleaded.

He seemed to have fallen asleep or lapsed into a coma, if the dead weight on her back was any indication. But he gave a little grunt and proceeded to pull out as carefully as he could.

He knew, however, that this was the most delicate part of the operation, and that the final emergence of his cock from that nether orifice couldn't always be managed without pain. Sure enough, when he pulled all the way out she out a little "Ow!" that wrung his heart.

He flopped over onto his back, totally exhausted. But then he realized that there was something important he had to do. He got up stiffly from the bed and trudged off to the bathroom, washing his member thoroughly with soap and water. Returning to the bedroom, he slipped into bed and, looking over to her, said: "How was it?"

She made no reply, remaining motionless in her prone position.

"Did it hurt much?" he ventured.

"Yes," she spat back at him.

"I'm sorry—really I am," he said, genuinely contrite. "But, um, didn't you—?"

"Didn't I what?"

"You know . . ." Didn't you come?

She grasped his meaning. "Yes, I did. But it still hurt."

"You might have tensed up. I guess it's hard not to, but it hurts more when you do that."

"I'll bear that in mind for next time." But the venomous look she was giving him told its own tale: Maybe there won't be a next time.

"I'm sorry," he said again, now seizing her and placing her on top of him as before. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be there; her first inclination was to rush to the bathroom and wash herself just as Damon had done, but she was simply too exhausted. Anyway—although she hated to admit it to herself—she was coming to like having this vigorous young man as a gigantic pillow.

And she did lapse into a kind of luxurious languor under his constant massaging. Even though his stroking had more to do with his own thirst for touching her in every possible place, especially her wondrous bottom, she found the contact soothing while at the same time it provided a covert stimulus. She had never experienced such a session before, and it didn't come as a complete surprise when she felt once more the swelling of his own organ under her.

"Oh, you got to be kidding me, Damon," she said. "You can't really want more."

He had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"What do you want now?" she said, like a mother dealing with her importunate son.

"Um, you could ride me," he suggested.

"What does that mean?"

He smiled at her naïveté. "You squat over me and put me in you."

Damon especially liked this position because (a) he would be able to gaze uninterruptedly at his partner's breasts, and (b) it would shift the burden of the work to the female rather than to him. Ardent as he was, and unquenchable as his desire for Iris seemed to be, he was getting a little tired.

Iris sighed in exasperation and got into position. She lifted herself up from Damon's recumbent form, got into a squatting position, and examined his hardening member scrupulously. She gripped it tightly in her hand, and it required some exertion to get it into a vertical position. Then, lifting her body up a little, she allowed it to penetrate her little by little. Damon gazed in awe as his cock disappeared like magic into her moist, hairy cleft, amused at how Iris was biting her lower lip in concentration. Then he saw her eyes widen and her mouth open as his cock fully entered her, expelling a little "Oh!" of surprise.

"Does it hurt?" he said, concerned.

"A little," she replied, wincing.

But she managed to initiate a slow pumping motion that made Damon become even more fixated on how his long, thick member, now glistening from her juices (and perhaps from his own from their first copulation), emerged and then vanished into her cleft. But he also had eyes for Iris's extraordinary tits, so firm that they didn't bounce much, as women's breasts usually did during this procedure. They were so large that there was hardly any space between them, and sometimes they knocked against each other in a way that sent Damon into ecstasies. Sometimes he reached up to seize them; other times he extended a hand to knead her tight bottom; and he even ventured to give Iris's clitoris and labia some deft strokes while he filled her, causing her to squeal girlishly and making her flush.

Iris herself at times had to place her hands on Damon's chest to steady herself, but eventually got into a good enough rhythm that she was able either to raise her hands behind her neck, causing her breasts to ride even higher than before, or else to place her hands behind herself and onto Damon's legs, thereby allowing him to gain an unobstructed view of his cock as it probed her body. She was now moaning in tune with her own thrusts, and it became clear that she herself was about to achieve a culmination—probably before he did.

And so it was. A sharp cry that Damon had already learned signalled her climax was forced out of her, and she became almost manic as she rode his cock and sent it as deeply into herself as she could. Her moan now became one long, extended mew of pleasure; her face was almost a mask of pain as her orgasm coursed through her body. And it was largely that sight, rather than the physical thrill that his cock was receiving, that caused him to send successive dollops of his own most precious fluid into her.

As their mutual climaxes subsided, Iris's cries descended into a kind of feeble whimper, while Damon's subsided into animalistic grunts. She remained firmly ensconced on his member, seemingly reluctant to release it from its tight, wet sheath. But at last she let it flop out of her, and she collapsed on top of him, totally spent.

"Omigod," she breathed. "I'm dizzy . . . can't see straight."

"Just settle down, dear," he said. "You were fabulous."

Iris barely heard the silly compliment. She was so drained that she hoped things really were at an end, at least for the evening. In fact, without a word she slid off Damon's body and got into position to go to sleep. At first she lay on her back, but eventually shifted to her side, her back to her energetic lover.

Damon was exhausted too, and dropped off to sleep in minutes. But the session was not quite over yet.

In the wee hours of the morning he woke up with a start. He'd forgotten where he was, and when he looked over to his left he saw the heavenly form of his beloved in a deep sleep. He couldn't resist lifting up the sheet and blanket to gaze upon her exquisite backside, from head and neck to back and bottom and thighs. Tired as he was, he felt a revival of sensation at the mere sight of her.

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't resist.

Sidling up to her, spoon-fashion, he slid his cock into her bottom.

It was still well lubricated from his previous invasion of that area, and he slipped in without fuss. A little sigh came from Iris, but otherwise she seemed lost in sleep. His thrusts were gentle, and only occasionally did he reach over to seize a breast, but the overall sensation was still so wondrous that his climax was not long in coming. It was a relatively quiet orgasm, and neither his discharge nor his soft groans wakened Iris—although he thought he saw a slight frown or grimace on her face as he sent his seed into her once again.

He pulled out as carefully as he could, but she still let out a little moan as he did so. But her eyes remained tightly closed.

Damon was suddenly filled with such a transcendent and indescribable emotion that he couldn't help placing his lips close to Iris's ear and whispering, "I love you, my dear. I love you so much."

Then he collapsed into sleep once more.