The User Ch. 06

Ben grunted and strained as her undulating body wrung his orgasm from him. Jet after jet of his torrid cream spewed into her, bathing her insides with his hot, sticky fluids. He clung to her as their delight peaked, then began to wane.

Cynthia continued laboring against him, a constant, passionate exclamation delight coming from her lips. After a while, her fevered bucking began to slow and was replaced by intermittent thrusts, which also eventually ended. At last she lay, quiescent, on top of Ben. His still-rigid penis remained hilted in her and their blended juices trickled onto him from her over-filled opening.

Ben cradled Cynthia in his arms, feeling her relax, her breathing calm, and the palpitations of her vaginal walls still. Cynthia was either unconscious or asleep, so he stayed still, holding her.

After a few minutes, Cynthia started, then she raised herself a little and looked down at Ben, her eyes brimming with affection.

"Cynthia, you are amazing!" he said.

She kissed him tenderly, then rolled off and snuggled against him. "You make me feel so good, Mr. Sanders!" she whispered, putting an arm around him.

He kissed her and they held each other.

"I...I can't believe this happened," Cynthia said softly. "I...I had no idea when I came over her tonight that you, that you and I..."

"What happened between us surprised me, too, Cynthia," Ben lied. "I...I've always felt you were lovely, but you're a student and I'm a school employee and, well..."

"You can get in trouble for what we did, can't you, Mr. Sanders?" Cynthia said, her face growing very serious. "I...I never thought about that until now. God! I'm sorry, I..."

"Cynthia, it wasn't your fault this happened," Ben said. "If anyone's to blame, I am, and if there are consequences to be suffered, I'll be happy to suffer them. I'm not sorry tonight happened."

"Oh, God, Mr. Sanders," the girl murmured. She pressed against him. "I...I'll never tell anyone about tonight, ever!"

"I know you won't, Cynthia," Ben said, rubbing her back. "I know you won't."

After a bit, Cynthia looked around. "What time is it?" she asked.

Ben told her.

She frowned. "I've got to be home in an hour," she said, sounding very disappointed.

"Maybe we can get together some time when you don't have to go home," Ben said. "I think waking up in the morning with you next to me would be wonderful."

That got him another kiss. "I'd love that!" Cynthia replied.

"You want to clean up before you go?" Ben asked.

Cynthia looked down at herself, giggled, and said, "Yeah, I guess I better." She stretched.

The languid, sensuous movement of her delectable body thrilled Ben. He loved watching women stretch, and the way Cynthia did it, so feline and sensual, was special.

Cynthia got out of bed and stood next to it looking down at him. Ben caressed on of her buttocks lightly.

"You like my ass, don't you?" she asked, squirming a little as Ben's hand moved over her firm nether cheek.

"I think it's the best I've ever seen," Ben told her.

Cynthia giggled, blushed, then turned and walked out of the room.

When Ben heard the shower running he got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He stood and watched Cynthia in the shower, droplets of water clinging to her lovely body like glistening jewels. He found her movements, as she lathered herself, incredibly erotic.

"Want some help?" he asked, stepping into the shower with her.

Cynthia smiled at him. "I'd love it," she told him. "God, Mr. Sanders, you think of the neatest stuff to do."

Ben took the washcloth from her, lathered it thoroughly, then he began washing her, starting with her neck and shoulders. He did her back next, spreading lather all the way down to the hollow at the base of the lovely curved surface.

Then he began to do her chest. Her nipples had already begun to extend.

"I never had a bath feel this good before," Cynthia said. "Ohhhhh!!!!!" she murmured when Ben started sliding the slippery cloth over her breasts, moving it from one lovely, firm, hill of flesh to the other, then back again.

"Oh, God, Mr. Sanders, I don't believe it!" Cynthia moaned, "You're doing it again! You're getting me turned on again!!"

Ben began washing her belly, paying particular attention to her navel, a delectable accent in her exquisite abdomen.

Cynthia was breathing hard and clutching Ben. When he reached her pubic hair, she gasped, and begged him to keep going, to do more.

"I will," he said, "but I want to be sure I the rest of you is clean first."

He glided the lathery cloth over her hip, then thoroughly laved her superb buttocks.

Cynthia was having trouble standing, so she parted her legs to steady herself. When she did, Ben slid the washcloth between her legs.

"My God, Mr. Sanders!! Ohhhhh!!!! Ohhhhh!!!" Cynthia groaned when the circular motions he was making with the lathery cloth centered on her clit. "Don't stop!!! Don't stop!!!" She rolled her hips forward, thrusting herself against his massaging hand. "Oh, God!!! You're gonna make me come again!!! Yessss!!! Do it!!! Do itttttt!!!! Feels so good!!! So goooddd!!"

Softly, insistently, Ben continued to move the washcloth over her middle, rubbing it round and round on her clit.

Cynthia's hands were locked around Ben's arm and she clung to him, gasping with joy. Her hips rocked wildly against his hand. Without warning, her soft moans and cries of delight turned into shrieks of pleasure. Her body quaked and her fingers dug into his arms.

Enchanted, Ben watched a flush spread over her lovely skin as release roared through her. The orgasm didn't seem to be quite as intense as the ones they'd shared earlier, but it left her breathless and dangling limply in his arms. Finally, she was able to get her legs under her.

"You're unreal, Mr. Sanders!" Cynthia gasped. She kissed him. "God! I wish I could stay and do more stuff like that, but I really do have to get home."

"I know," Ben said. "You're all clean now. All you have to do is rinse yourself, dry off, and get dressed."

Cynthia did just that, and before long she was on her way home.

Ben lay in bed, watching the evening news. Cynthia was, by far, the most delightful conquest he'd made yet. He reviewed a list he'd made in his mind. "I wonder," he thought, "what it would take to get Ellen Dewey in my bed?"