The Scholarship

And to my surprise, I not only did as she commanded, but actually wanted to. I was so turned on by this time that I didn't care whether I got the scholarship or not. I needed the 10 grand, but I needed to cum more.

Quickly, I lifted my favorite yellow sun dress, jerked the wet crotch of my panties aside and ran my fingers along the length of my slit to show Miranda my wetness. I was certain I'd never been this wet before.

Without thinking, I inserted my middle finger into my pussy, withdrew it quickly and used the juices to lubricate my swollen clit. I began to finger myself furiously right there in front of Miranda Steele, grieving widow of the late George P. Steele, the $10 million benefactor whose name would soon grace my beloved business building.

But I didn't give a shit about any of that right now. All I wanted was to cum . . . and to have Miranda watch me do it!

"Come here, Sarah, to the front of my chair," she directed. My fingers didn't miss a stroke as I moved in front of her chair on my knees. I could feel the spasms beginning deep inside me.

"Patience, Sarah. It's not time for you to cum yet. Remove your hand from your wet little cunt immediately," she ordered.

I reluctantly did as she said and as I took my hand away from my aching pussy, I became intensely aware of the wetness on my fingers.

"Now, Sarah," I want you to spread the juice from that little cunt of yours all over my boot," Miranda said as she extended her right foot toward me. Make it shine with your pussy juice."

Although my arousal had subsided a bit when Miranda ordered my hand away from my pussy, the sexual tension inside me was growing again. It was literally beyond my control. As perverted as this scene would appear to a "normal" person, I was way past caring about normal. My body was begging for release.

Not only did I rub the wetness that clung to my fingers onto her boot, I thrust my hand into my pussy again and again to capture more! I knew it would please Miranda to see me do this. And each time I touched my dripping box, it brought me closer to orgasm.

"Now my little whore," Miranda said as she looked down at me with those cold eyes. "I want you to clean yourself off my boot with your tongue."

And I did. My tongue started at the toe of her boot, traced a wet path up the outside of Miranda's leather-covered leg, back down the inside. They were no longer boots to me. They were my own wet, swollen pussy lips. And each time my tongue caressed them, my arousal became even more intense.

After all, I was her little whore. I wanted the $10,000 and discovered that I would do almost anything to get it. But there was more to it—I had never been so turned on in my entire life. Not when Mr. Sparks showered my tits with his cum. Not when I secretly listened to my roommate Marni get herself off. And not even when Phil Smith licked my pussy so expertly.

I was on fire! I had never felt like this before and never expected to again.

Finally, Miranda extended her right leg and her boot began to massage my dripping cunt. I wrapped both arms around her leg and drew her to me, hugging her leg as I humped her boot furiously.

"Fuck yourself, my little cunt whore," Miranda commanded. "Fuck yourself on the boot. Fuck it like the little whore you are!'

My orgasm didn't just overtake me. It shattered me. I nearly passed out from the pleasure. As my pussy continued to convulse, I thrust the toe of the boot inside as far as it would go. Now, totally beyond any reason and control, I impaled myself again and again, fucking myself with her glorious boot until the spasms subsided.

When it was over, I lay back, totally spent and gazed up at Miranda. Her eyes were half-closed with pleasure. But she quickly composed herself, buttoning her jacket and straightening her skirt.

She rose from her chair, looked down at me and said matter-of-factly, "Thank you, Sarah. This completes the application process."

With that, she pulled a pen out of her purse and wrote me a check.

As I tried to pull myself back together, straightening my dress and putting my panties back where they belong, she handed me the check. Her hand lingered in mine for a few seconds before I took it from her.

"This says $5,000, not $10,000. What's going on?" I demanded.

"This is your first semester's stipend. I'll meet with you again near the end of the term to renew your award for the second semester. After I speak with Dean Holt, I assure you he will allow you to pay your tuition in two installments.

"Oh, and Sarah," Miranda asked offhandedly. "Have you ever fucked another woman?"

Without waiting for an answer, Miranda Steele turned and unlocked the conference room door. She and her black leather boots strode from the room, leaving me to stare wordlessly at her back as she disappeared down the hallway, my stomach already tingling with anticipation and dread about what might happen when it comes time to renew my scholarship.