My tenuous focus shatters as you enter the room behind me, but I’m more relieved than frustrated at the intrusion — I’ve been poring over this textbook for hours, slowly etching its contents into my increasingly cluttered memory. I’m dimly aware of your shadowy form moving into my peripheral vision.
“Progress?” you ask, prompting only a groan in reply as I slump forward onto the desk. “Perhaps I can be of assistance…” Even in my cognitive haze I catch the provocative edge to your tone.
Your warm hands find my shoulders, ease me back in my chair, and begin slowly to work the stiffness from my neck. I sigh in appreciation, relishing the feeling of your expert touch as awareness returns to my body.
“Better?” you murmur, running your fingers delicately up my neck and through my hair, sending shivers down my spine.
“Mm hmm,” I hum deeply.
“Good,” you reply, “now let’s see if I can help you study a bit.”
My whine of protest dies in my throat as you come around to face me, swinging a leg over my lap and hopping up into a sitting position on the desk in front of me, thighs open wide. You’re wearing my burgundy college sweater… and nothing else. I can’t help but to gawk open-mouthed at your glorious, bare cunt, its crimson petals spreading to reveal a glistening hint of nectar within. I’m instantly overwhelmed with desperate thirst for you, but somehow I know you won’t be letting me taste just yet.
I lift my eyes to yours and find them glinting darkly above lips curled with devious intentions. The slight outline of a stiff nipple tugs at the thick sweater material as you lean back, and I long to slip my hands up under the fabric to tease and fondle your ample breasts.
“Now,” you purr, slowly tracing your fingers along your inner thigh, “pay attention.” Your fingertips reach your dewy slit and begin to brush ever so lightly up and down along the edges of your lips. “I want you to remember this lesson carefully,” you breathe, your voice catching slightly at your own pleasure, “it’s what you’ll need to do with your tongue, to pass my test…”
You spread your legs even wider, still softly caressing up and down. I watch, utterly entranced, as your labia begin to swell, parting at their apex to expose the bud of your clit. With your middle finger, you start to tantalize that gleaming pearl, alternately tapping and tugging lightly at the velvety folds of skin above. I groan, overwhelmed at the sight of your clit being coaxed out of its shroud, shining like hard candy.
My own pussy throbs in tandem with your touch, which shifts now into small quick circles.
“Did you know,” you practically pant, sliding a finger down between the folds of your lips to spread the wetness gathering there, “that this is actually called the vulva, not the vagina?” Your words barely register; I don’t even bother to respond. “The vagina,” you continue, “is actually right in here…” You slip first one and then a second finger inside, and begin to curl them rhythmically to stimulate your G-spot. You arch your hips forward as you finger yourself, moving closer to my hungry eyes. I’m completely transfixed by your pleasure, unable to tear my gaze away from your ripe wet slit. You’re shaking now on the desk, as turned on by my voyeurism as by your own play.
You slide your fingers out with sumptuous slowness, leaving them slick with your milky dew. You lift them to my mouth and proceed to coat my parted lips with your elixir, driving me wild with ravenous desire, before letting me suck them clean. The taste of you is beyond exquisite, the smell of you enthralling. You lift my chin coquettishly, your finger still damp with saliva, and plant the most delicate and haughty of kisses on my moist lips.
“Now, have you remembered what to do?” You recline luxuriously, spreading your legs wide, inviting me to begin.
I know I’m ignoring your instructions, but as I lean forward to fuck you at last I can’t help but to take your whole creamy cunt into my mouth, to savor your plump, meaty lips with my tongue. You cry out and grab the back of my head to press me in deeper, overwhelmed in spite of yourself by the intensity of your pleasure.
Without letting up I stroke your labia hard with my tongue, delivering a more aggressive version of your initial ministrations. I can feel my own wetness pooling in my panties, my cunt blazing with arousal. I move to focus on your ripe clit, sucking deeply and swirling my tongue in tight circles.
“Yes!” you gasp, “that’s right — right there!”
When I feel you getting close, I grab your thighs to tip you back a little more, then plunge my tongue inside you to lick at that burning sweet spot. You’re so wet it’s dribbling down your ass onto my textbook, a fact that sends a satisfying thrill through my whole body. I can feel you pulsating against my tongue, your pussy a constricting vice, unwilling to let me go. I fuck you deeply, your hot juices lathering my face, until you come for me in a furious, ecstatic rush.
I lean back to watch you as you gather yourself, your supine form radiating bliss.
“So? Did I pass?” I inquire devilishly.
You hum in appreciation, then cock your head to the side, considering me. “I suppose I can’t fail you,” you reply, “but you were a very wicked pupil. I think I need to put you in detention…” Before I know it, you’ve lashed my arms to the chair. Discipline never felt so sweet…