Student and Teacher Ch. 12

"I like it well enough," she said judiciously. Then, with a worried expression: "But . . . I've never taken in such a big thing back there."

"I won't go in all the way!" Brad hastily assured her.

"Well, thank heaven for small mercies," she said wryly. She looked around the room. "We need some lube."

Sylvia spotted some moisturizer on the desk, and got up in a flash to get it.

She was about to spread some of it onto her fingers when he said: "I can do that."

She stopped in her tracks. "You?"

"Yeah. I . . . kinda like to do it."

"Do you now? Well, okay, be my guest."

She handed him the bottle, and he squeezed a fair wad of it on his fingers. As she flopped onto her stomach, he applied it thoroughly, causing her to giggle at the feel of both the stuff and his fingers in that delicate spot.

"Shall I get on all fours?" she said.

"You can lie flat. I think that's better."

"Fine, you're the boss." Then, nervously: "Um, Brad, be careful. It's been a little while since I've done this." About eight months, to be exact.

He was determined to minimize any pain or discomfort for this glorious creature as best he could. He knew that the critical stage was to get the tip of his member into the orifice; once that was accomplished, the rest would follow a little easier. Sure enough, Sylvia let out a little cry of complaint when that tip penetrated her; but as the rest of his cock entered her, inch by inch, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, and at one point a little high-pitched squeal escaped from her throat. She was really wondering if Brad was going to be true to his word not to try to shove the whole of his organ into that back-door entrance.

He did stop after about seven inches had gotten into her, as he sensed that was just about all that Sylvia could take in. Then he began a slow, steady pumping that caused her to groan in exact rhythm to his thrusts. He was grieved to think he might be hurting her, and he was almost wanting to come out—but he sensed that her pride in her sexual abilities was such that she would be ashamed and humiliated if he had done that.

In a way, Brad was facing the same quandary that Damon had faced when entering Nan's pussy for the first time: do I pump fast and hard and get it over with, or pump more gently but prolong the possible pain? He resolved on a mix of the two, and in the process he inadvertently entered her another inch or so, until he seemed to reach some kind of obstacle that prevented him from going in any further. He had seized her breasts and brought nearly the whole of his body on top of her, grinding his hips and feeling the fleshy globes of her bottom slap against his groin.

His climax took him by surprise, as did the extent of his emission. Without thinking he squeezed her breasts with both hands and let out a cry right next to her ear—a cry that she herself echoed as her tongue extended far out of her mouth.

He remained buried in her for a long time. Both the physical and the emotional effects of this act of copulation gradually overwhelmed him, and he felt closer to this divine female than he had even to Iris. In a choked voice he said:

"Oh, God, Sylvia, you're so wonderful! I want you so much . . ." He was really wanting to profess his love for her, but sensed that she might not welcome such an admission so early in their relationship.

Sylvia was struggling to regain her own composure. She had had a jolting climax without Brad even touching her sex—something she had never experienced before. And Brad's words had struck her in a way that made her unsure how to respond. She had, she realized, had her fill of puffed-up, self-important men who thought that they were doing her a favor by sleeping with them. Now here was a guy who was openly and honestly testifying to his devotion, and she was a bit flummoxed by it all.

"That's really sweet of you, Brad," she said with some difficulty. "But—I think you should come out of me now."

Brad had actually forgotten that he was still plugging her almost to the hilt. Their physical union had already come to seem such a natural thing that he was not very keen on disengaging from her. But he realized she must be quite uncomfortable, and he drew himself out slowly—because he knew that a fast withdrawal would be even more painful.

As it was, the emergence of his knobby tip from her anus did indeed cause her to cry out, but she experienced a thrill of relief—but at the same time a crashing sense of emptiness—when he finally came out of her altogether. She could feel his fluids bathing both orifices, and to that degree she felt that he was still connected to her.

She was startled by Brad's leaving the bed. Grabbing her own robe, which was hanging over a chair, he put it on and began heading out the door.

"Where are you going?" she cried.

"Gotta wash," he said. Iris had made it clear that that was de rigueur after anal sex.

He came back in a few minutes and wrapped Sylvia in her arms. She was a little dazed by this dual penetration by a man she had foolishly thought was an inexperienced yokel. And when, after about twenty minutes of cuddling, she became aware that he was getting ready for yet another session, she cried out: "Are you kidding me?"

Brad looked ruefully at his erection. "We don't have to do anything, if you don't want to."

Those were exactly the words to get Sylvia fired up. If you think I can't keep up with whatever you can throw at me, you'd better think again, buster! This time he indicated that he wanted the classic missionary position, and she was happy to comply. She liked big men, and she especially liked to have them drape themselves over her body and engulf her—but she was usually determined to keep up her own end of the business and not lapse into the passivity of the proverbial Victorian wife. And yet, Brad's girth, and the way in which his massive member forced its way deep into her cleft, rendered her unable to do much more than wrap her legs around his as he all but smothered her with his body. She tried to respond, but after a while just gave up and resigned herself to languid helplessness as he pumped her while his hands roved all over her body—breasts, back, thighs, and bottom. He rained kisses on her also—on her face, neck, shoulders, and even her armpit. And when he came, he filled her yet again with his seed in a way that made her feel replete as never before.

But even this was not the end. After this third union, she figured they would just lapse into a heavy sleep—and at first that was exactly what happened. Not bothering to clothe themselves with any nightwear, they simply drifted off into unconsciousness. But when Brad woke up at some unspecified point, he raised up the sheet and took in Sylvia's tousled hair, her glorious back, and her smooth, rounded bottom, and his member rose to attention once more. She was sleeping soundly, almost as if she were drugged; and he figured that he might be able to perform his task without waking her. Arranging himself on his side right behind her, he inserted his cock into her anus yet again: it was still "open," so he slipped right in. He only went in a few inches, and otherwise he refrained from touching her—although at one point he couldn't help grasping her right breast with a tender hand. His thrusts were gentle, but every so often he noticed that, while her eyes remained closed, a slight frown came over Sylvia's face. Somehow that inspired him to finish, and he poured his fourth emission into her as silently as he could manage. He pulled out—causing a little cry to come out of Sylvia's mouth, although she remained asleep—and then rolled away to lapse into slumber himself.