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Chapter 10. The Fuck Stops Here

I’d noticed some make-up brushes on Jill’s dressing table, and before getting into bed I’d surreptitiously moved them to the bedside. I then used them to tantalise, starting with long, slow sweeps of the brushes and alternating with hand caresses over every inch of her exposed skin. My tongue joined in, trailing over her neck and shoulders, down her arms, across her breasts, capturing and teasing nipples with my lips and teeth. My fingers then swept up and down her thighs, tickling her knees, front and back. And I listened for every little gasp, sigh and moan as I slowly increased the tension.

Finally, I homed in on her pussy. I licked, stroked, penetrated and withdrew, teased with my tongue then returned to using my fingers, moving up to kiss her as my hands took her to the brink – and then backed off a little. Then I ramped up the pressure again, but as I sensed she was close and began to ease off, she clasped her hand over mine and murmured “Now – please?”

As I felt and heard her coming, I experienced a strong sense of satisfaction. I’d given her pleasure, asking nothing in return. And I watched her in her orgasmic rapture and her post-orgasmic glow, and thought “Yes, I really do love this woman.”

She smiled at me, looking a bit spaced out. “That was quite something, Richard. Now, what would you like in return?”

When I replied “Nothing,” she reached out and stroked my cock, which – needless to say – was already hard. After getting me close with a skilled hand-job, she knelt up, swung her leg over me and lowered her delicious, tight pussy onto my cock. I sighed, smiled, and reached for her clit.

“No, Richard. You’ve given me my fun, and I’m still rather too sensitive there. Just enjoy. Come when you’re ready.”

I moved my hands to her lovely round tits – something she didn’t seem to object to – and she started shimmying her hips, slowly riding that hot, wet, silky woman-tube up and down on my tumescent cock. I wanted to prolong the pleasure for as long as possible, so I closed my eyes and did some mental distraction. And every time I opened my eyes, there she was; my sexy, gorgeous teacher, magnificently naked, moving her hips sinuously, almost like a belly dancer, as she focused on engulfing and releasing my cock.

And then – then I suddenly felt her squeeze me as she rode upwards. Oh, Lord! I moaned.

“Like that?” she said, smiling down at me.

“Mmm,” was all I could say.

“Yes,” she said, doing it again. “It’s called the Singapore Grip. In a book. J G Farrell. You should – you should read it.” She was now doing it on almost every stroke, and the exertion was making her a little breathless. And, frankly, I was more than a little breathless, having my cock so expertly milked like that. It was fucking excruciating bliss.

“I’m – I’m going to – to come.”

“I’m not stopping you,” she grinned down at me, squeezing again.

“I – I – AAAAH!”

It was fucking glorious. I pumped until my balls ached, moaning loudly as she squeezed every last drop out of me.

“Enjoy that?” she asked with a grin, bending down to kiss me.

“A-mazing!” I gasped, barely able to form coherent words. I reached up, put my arms around her and pulled her close. We kissed. Maybe a minute later, my cock slipped out and a puddle of warm semen trickled onto my thighs. I ignored it.

I wanted to ask her how, with all her evident bedroom skills, her fitness and her innate beauty, her shitbag of a husband could ever dream of playing away. But the last thing I wanted was to remind her of her current infidelity, so all I could do was whisper “You’re incredible,” in her ear.

“Yes, I am, aren’t I?” she smiled back.

We were both orgasmed-out – my balls were literally aching – so we paused to clean up and have some French bread and cheese for lunch, with some red wine. We went out onto the patio (on a spot where the neighbours couldn’t see us) and spent a couple of hours smoking some of my remaining cigarettes and chatting about the future – her in Edinburgh, me in Oxford. She wanted to know about Phoebe and seemed genuinely pleased that I’d found someone who could satisfy my sexual and, hopefully, emotional needs.

“So what is she like? As you got to fuck on the first date, it seems she’s not a shy little thing. Or did you seduce her?”

“If anything, she seduced me. She’s most certainly not shy, and she seems to want a lot of sex. Oh, and she’s ballet trained, so she’s very flexible.”

“Well, it sounds as if you’ve done well. But do you like her; as a person, that is?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. She’s fun. She talks a lot, but what she says is interesting. I think we have quite a bit in common.”

“Apart from an insatiable appetite for sex?”

“Well, yes – there is that.” I grinned.

“And is the sex good?”

“Yes, it’s very good.”

“As good as we’ve had?”

“Oh, now that’s not fair,” I said. “Sure, she’s younger than you, she can contort her body in interesting ways Kuzey ankara escort and she has a very dirty mind – and mouth, which I find a big turn-on. But she’s terribly skinny, her tits are virtually non-existent, she’s not conventionally pretty and she doesn’t have your skills or innate sexiness. You’re beautiful and sexy and – and well, we have this emotional connection. I don’t have that with Phoebe, at least not yet.”

She looked at me and smiled. “Yes, I guess we do have an emotional connection. Just don’t tell me you love me and it’ll be fine.”

I was desperate to tell her that yes, I did love her, but I realised that this would be a very bad idea. So instead, we went back inside and spent another hour in the lounge, just kissing, groping and teasing. I focused for perhaps ten minutes on her nipples and breasts, licking, sucking, nibbling, teasing – and occasionally switching to her neck and her mouth – seeing how aroused I could make her. Then I slipped a finger inside her, gently probing, finding and teasing her G-spot, withdrawing, stimulating her inner and outer lips, carefully avoiding her clit. (And in the process, I noted that she’d reinserted the butt plug, which I found interesting and arousing). My aim wasn’t orgasm, but to tease her to a point of extreme horniness. In truth, I wanted to get her to a point where she would beg me to fuck her.

But she was playing her own game, using her nails to trace tingling lines over my skin. Her hand gently cupped my balls, her fingers teasing behind, on my perineum, then back to my sphincter, scratching lightly and driving me wild. Stroking her fingers along my erect shaft, tantalising the head – then cupping it in her hand and stroking it until I was on the verge of begging her to stop as I didn’t want to cum this way. Then backing off, trailing her fingertips across my abdomen, reaching around me to caress and squeeze my bum.

“I love your arse,” she breathed, squeezing a buttock as I stroked her thighs with my fingers while lapping at her neck.

“I love yours,” I replied. “Seems like it’s ready for some more action.” I reached down and tugged gently on the retaining bar of the plug. She moaned softly.

“Soon,” she sighed, then turned her face to kiss me. We kissed for several more minutes, each of us tingling with pent-up sexual tension. Finally, she put her hands on my chest and pushed me back a little, looking me in the face.

“I think – I think it’s time for the main event, and I want it to be memorable. You remember when you kissed me at the school dance? I just wanted to take you home there and then and have you shag me senseless, and I’d have done it and thought to Hell with the consequences if Colin hadn’t been picking me up afterwards. Could we try that as a fantasy?”

“Do we have to go back to the school to start it?”

“Don’t be silly. Just assume I’ve brought you home. We can start at my front door.”

“Or your back door?”

She smiled. “Perhaps. Let me go and prepare. Put on the outfit you wore for the dance and meet me in the hall in…” she glanced at her watch “ten minutes. Have some more wine if you like. Oh, and don’t call me Jill or Mrs Dawson; I don’t want to be reminded that I’m cheating on my husband while I’m enjoying being fucked. You can call me Miss. Oh, and we might need a safe word.”

“Sorry?”

“In case I want to beg you not to do something that I really want you to do. How about ‘Beaujolais’? If I use that word, stop whatever you’re doing and wait for further instructions. But if I beg you to stop, just keep on doing whatever you’re doing. Got it?”

My cock was already hard. After what she’d just said, it started twitching involuntarily. How the hell was I going to keep any sort of control?

When Jill reappeared, she was wearing the same slinky dress and heels she’d worn at the dance, as well as the sexy choker. She’d also applied more extreme make-up than at the dance; bright red lipstick, quite striking eye shadow and mascara. She was carrying a small clutch bag, which she opened to show me a tube of lubricant, a vibrator and some condoms. Then, still without speaking, she opened the door just a little and closed it.

“You know why you’re here, Richard?” she said, raising one eyebrow and giving me the sexiest smile.

“I hope so. I assume I’m here to fuck you.”

“And lick me, and stroke and caress me, but mostly to give me orgasms. In return, I may provide you with one or two. Shall we head to the bedroom or start here?”

I almost threw myself at her, and we kissed, caressed and groped our way upstairs. The clutch bag ended up on the floor beside the bed, along with my bow tie and jacket, while she unbuttoned my shirt and ran her hands all over my chest.

“Mmm, yes! Great muscles,” she crooned between kisses.

I unzipped the back of her dress and she slithered out of it. Underneath, she had on a sheer, black-lace bra with tiny matching panties and hold-up stockings; probably the ones she’d worn for me in Maltepe escort Rome. She looked like a schoolboy’s wet dream. But the bra didn’t stay on for long. In mid-kiss, I unfastened it, and then, as it fell away, fastened my mouth first on one nipple, then the other, making her moan loudly. Meanwhile, she’d undone my belt and unzipped me. My trousers were halfway down my thighs and my erect cock was in her hand within moments. (I’d again chosen to go commando).

My mouth wandered around – breasts, neck, throat, lips, neck again, shoulder, nipples, up and down her arm, into her armpit, nipples again. And she was stroking me expertly with one hand while the other first slapped my arse, then squeezed a cheek, the tip of a finger tickling my arsehole. I pushed her back onto the bed, and when I grabbed the sides of her panties, she obligingly lifted her hips to allow me to remove them. I shimmied out of my trousers and shoes, clawed my socks and then my shirt off and onto the floor, grabbed hold of Jill’s ankles, pulled her legs apart and looked down into Happy Valley. Her neatly-trimmed pubes surrounded a very wet slit and, once again, the butt plug was clearly in evidence, surrounded by a sheen of lubricant.

Lick or fuck, fuck or lick? A hard choice. I pushed her ankles up towards her shoulders, swung my hips and, amazingly, bent over the high divan, managed to find the entrance to the magic cave on the first try. I kept the momentum up, pushing all the way in, as Jill almost screamed.

“FUUUUCK! Oh, Jesus! That’s – that’s intense. Shit, that was – brutal! Don’t! AAH! No!” she squealed. I ignored her, pulled right out, and went in again. She screamed a second time.

And then reached for my shoulders, pulling me down onto her – into her. I repeated the fierce rhythm, hard thrust followed by almost complete withdrawal, and then another hard thrust. And within seconds, she was moving with me, rising to meet me as I plunged down. I released her ankles and transferred one hand to her clit, the other covering a breast and palming a nipple. And we were again kissing hungrily.

Between kisses, she was moaning “Oh God! Yes! Fuck me hard, just – just like that!” It felt fantastic, but after barely a minute I was a tiny notch away from coming, so I had to change things. I pulled out, slid down her body, dropped to my knees on the floor and applied my mouth to the relevant area. And meanwhile, I started tugging at the plug. She squealed, moaned and wriggled, and finally gasped as the plug popped out. I dropped it onto the floor, groped for the bag and extracted the tube of lubricant. With my face embedded in her slit and her legs over my shoulders, I was able to open the tube, squeeze ample amounts onto my fingers and spread it over my cock – and then insert one, then rapidly two fingers into the vacant hole. She whimpered and writhed some more.

I needed to get her as close as possible to orgasm before I tried my next trick because I guessed I wouldn’t be able to last very long. My tongue was writing a whole series of obscenities on her clitoris and her inner lips, occasionally darting back to lap at the recently vacated opening of her drooling cunt. A third finger joined the other two in her arse, and after a few moments of expanding the hole to my satisfaction, I pulled them slowly out, spreading them as I did and making her howl.

And she howled even more as I stood up, her legs still over my shoulders, carefully pointed my generously-lubricated cock into her well-lubricated sphincter, and pushed.

“RICHARD!” she screamed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?” Her face showed a look of shock – real or feigned, I couldn’t tell.

“I’m – fucking – your – arse – Miss,” I managed to say between gritted teeth as, a millimetre at a time, I forced my naked cock into her ultra-tight arsehole.

“You’re – AAAAH! You’re – you’re WHAT?” she gasped back at me.

“I’m – I’m – fucking your ARSE, Miss!” I said, as her ultra-tight ring finally gave up its resistance and the head of my cock forced its way through. She let out a shriek. I held still, transferring my thumb onto her clit, taking care to ensure it wasn’t the hand that had just been expanding her sphincter. (She’d explained about cross-infections and I didn’t want to be the cause of anything nasty).

“You – you BASTARD!” she moaned. “How – how dare you. I – I haven’t… I wasn’t…”

“You had a plug in, Miss. That’s an open invitation. And now you have an open arsehole. And you’re going to feel my cock. It’s going right up your arse, Miss.”

She was staring down between her legs, at my cock, partly in and partly outside her tight arsehole, her wet and recently-fucked cunt still open and glistening with the copious juices she’d produced. She was clearly massively turned on by the sight, but she tried to pretend otherwise.

“Oh Richard, please… Please…. don’t! No! Oh my God!” I pushed a little deeper.

She looked at me, wide-eyed. “Please – please!” She begged. “Please – please be – be gentle,” Mamak escort she moaned in a plaintive voice. I could almost believe she didn’t want this as much as I did.

I rubbed again on and around her clit. She gave a loud sob and her head jerked back as I felt a sudden contraction in her arse. She was coming already! But this was a regular orgasm, primarily clitoral, and I wanted her to feel the full tsunami of an anal orgasm, as she’d had earlier, so I gritted my teeth and pushed deeper.

The next few minutes were incredible. As I slowly insinuated my cock further and further into her arse, while continuing to rub her clit, she kept coming. The pulsing in her tight rectum just kept on and on, gripping my cock almost painfully. Perhaps it was the discomfort of being squeezed so hard that delayed my own orgasm, because the expression on Jill’s face would’ve tipped me over the edge. Her eyes were rolling, her mouth was open and she was letting out a constant stream of incoherent moans. And she kept staring at the source of her pleasure-pain – my cock, now deeply embedded in her throbbing arsehole. As I finally hit bottom, as it were, her arse cheeks pressed against my body, the moans and gasps got louder, and when I began a regular fucking rhythm, her legs started shaking.

To my immense credit, I believe, I kept this up for almost a minute, during which time Jill just seemed to jerk around like a crazed marionette. Every few seconds, a plaintive squeak would escape her throat, or she’d gasp “Please no, please stop!” and then she’d wriggle and jerk and shriek again.

I knew I couldn’t stand much more. My cock was fucking the ultra-tight arse of my hot teacher, and It was doing it bareback. I was almost over-stimulated. My heart was pounding, my breathing heavy, my pulse loud in my ears, and my cock felt like it was on fire. Finally, as Jill continued to squeal and moan and plead, I pulled back hard against her tight ring and then thrust in, to maximum depth. She screamed – and I came, pumping my seed into her bowels in a rhythm that was out of sync with her pulsing grip. And the experience felt almost out-of-body. The room seemed to spin, and I collapsed forward on top of Jill, whose arse was still pulsing madly.

I was holding my weight on my outstretched arms, hands on the mattress, panting insanely until the room stopped rotating. Beneath me, legs still over my shoulders, Jill’s body was trembling and she seemed to be quietly sobbing. I leaned down and kissed her, and her arms came up and feebly hugged my shoulders.

Finally, she spoke.

“Richard, that – that was – insane! I’ve never – never – felt anything so – so strong! I can’t – I can’t seem to – stop trembling.”

And she was still shaking, so I eased my softening cock out of her arse, carefully rearranged her legs on either side of me, leaned closer and took her in my arms. We kissed.

“Wow, Jill, every time I think that sex with you can’t get any better, it does! That was beyond amazing.”

“Yes. The last – the last time was good, but this – this was…” She broke off, making a sound that was half laughter, half post-orgasmic gasps.

I held her for a while, still gently kissing her, before we finally parted and I rolled over onto the bed beside her.

“I think I need another drink,” she said.

I carefully helped her into the bed, pulled the sheet over her and went downstairs for the wine bottle and glasses. When I came back, she was asleep, so I sat in a chair, poured myself a glass and watched her. Women are always at their most beautiful when they’re enjoying, or have just enjoyed, an orgasm. Jill looked like the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Everything about her was perfect; her hair, her skin, her breasts, her mouth. Her face was so wonderfully proportioned and, even though her lovely eyes were closed, I thought she was stunning.

I finished my glass of wine, headed to the bathroom to clean up and brush my teeth, and then I climbed into bed beside her. She was still asleep, so I kissed her forehead and whispered “I love you,” before turning out the light.

It was still dark when I woke to the unmistakable sensation of having my cock sucked. If someone could invent an alarm clock that woke you with that feeling, getting up in the morning would take on a whole new meaning and would be far more pleasant.

There’s something amazing about having a woman suck your cock when it’s limp. Even if her mouth isn’t big enough to accommodate you when you’re fully hard, most girls can take all of a limp cock into their mouths, which – for the man – is a delicious sensation. And I’ve found that the cock’s sensitivity is different when it’s soft – not more or less than when it’s hard; it just feels different. And really good.

Anyway, my cock didn’t stay soft for long. Even though there was still a residual ache in my balls, what Jill was doing under the bedclothes was more than enough to get me hard in about a minute.

She then spent some time working the shaft and head with her lips and tongue – something that would’ve made me fill her mouth with jizz if I hadn’t learned some control, and if my balls weren’t struggling to create enough semen to keep up with demand. Finally, she emerged from under the covers, smiling broadly.

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