For ten years I became what I jokingly called a ‘professional student’ and enthusiastically studied many different subjects at various Colleges and Universities. During this period I spent one year as a part-time ‘mature student’ at a local College taking ‘A’ level Sociology . The class, about twenty strong, consisted of (and had been designed for) 18 to 22 year olds who had decided, rather late on, to get the required grades for University acceptance. I was an ancient 33 and had enrolled just for the academic interest. Not unusually, I was one of only three attending males.
Throughout the year I had a great time, not only was it a lively class, but being the only male who could speak without tripping over raging hormones and crippling shyness, I became a willing confidant to some of the girls. Of these girls, I should tell you about two of them in particular. Firstly; 19 year old Tricia. I hit it off with this blonde ‘tramp’ immediately, her flirty and playful personality was instantly engaging. A shockingly crude sense of humour made her great fun to be with and an (all too obviously displayed) lithe beauty made her great fun to look at! From all the lurid tales Tricia told me, she seemed to have a different yet unsatisfactory boyfriend every week. Secondly; the quiet 21 year old; Maggie. She was a bit of a mystery to me because, although I failed to get much conversation out of her, she seemed to like me enough to sit by my side in most lessons.
Every now and then in life, you meet someone who really floats your boat and often, you just can’t work out why. I know there’s the usual physical attractions (i.e. ‘great ass’, ‘massive tits’, ‘six pack’ etc), as well as the often clichéd spiritual connection: the ‘We’re just sooo alike’ claim, but sometimes an un-quantifiable fascination grabs you roughly by the throat and won’t let go. Maggie certainly had me by the throat. Unfortunately though, I couldn’t get her to say more than three words to me.
She was a Goth, or at least she looked like one; pale skin, black hair and clothes, all topped off aptly with a sepulchral disposition. I can best describe her physical form as being like that of a ‘buxom wench’, curvaceous and shapely with very round, prominent breasts. Yes, I know what I just said about basic attraction, but, as spellbinding as those large titties were, I think it was Maggie’s face that had that un-quantifiable affect upon me. She was not classically beautiful, her open, dark eyes were intense rather than pretty and her full, down-turned lips gave the appearance of perpetual sadness. All this was framed by luxuriant black and wavy hair that fell in wide ringlets down to the middle of her back. Something about this combination made me weak at the knees.
It could be that my fascination sprang from both Maggie’s sad, troubled face (that made me want to tenderly hold her) and those hot tits, ass and thighs (that made me want to fuck her hard over whatever desk was available).
One of the girls I didn’t make any impression on what-so-ever, was the petite and bookish 18 year old; Lucy. She wore thick rimmed glasses and dowdy ‘grey’ clothing that screamed: “I want to be a librarian!” Although cute looking, she shyly avoided close contact with anyone else in the class, giving her a demeanour of social ineptness. Unfortunately, I did manage to upset her once during a heated classroom debate over the public and media response to Princess Diana’s recent death. I had argued that it was nothing more than hysteria and hypocrisy. Lucy, who obviously had strong feelings for Diana, started crying and in her distress, ran weeping from the room. I felt rather bad about my unthinking behaviour and later on, asked some of my fellow students if she’d be ok.
“She’s a wimp, she’s always crying!” said Tricia harshly. These words sparked a quick-fire exchange between the group:
“Leave her alone, Lucy’s just very sensitive.”
“She’s always crying ‘cos people keep taking the piss out of her for being a lesbian.”
“NO WAY! She’s a lesbian!?”
“It’s what I heard.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that too.”
“Well she’ll have to ditch the brown socks and cardigan if she wants to get any action with me.” this unsympathetic remark from Tricia, once again set off a barrage of responses:
“TRICIA!, you’re such a slut!”
“Jeeez, Trish, you’re so mean!”
As they dissolved into gales of laughter, I left them to their character assassination and wandered off, none the wiser.
At the beginning of the very next lesson I went over to Lucy and apologised for my previous lack of consideration. She gave me a thin-lipped smile and accepted my contrition with an abrupt nod, which I think meant; “Ok, now go away and leave me alone.”
As the academic year drew towards a close and the reticent English summer struggled to make itself known, our lessons changed their emphasis from study to revision. In addition, the girls clothing changed from thick coats and scarves to short skirts and tight fitting tops. Rising sap was not just the preserve Beylikdüzü escort bayan of oak trees and teenage boys, it affected 33 year old men as well. In a room full of exposed college-girl flesh and high tables that gave unobstructed views, I found my concentration on Sociology seriously wavering. If I was a tie wearer, I would have been continually loosening it (or at the very least, daydreaming that Maggie was loosening it).
One hot morning in late May we arrived in class and waited for our lecturer. As usual, I had grabbed a chair at the back of the sunlit room. On my right sat Tricia, wearing a short pink skirt and white ‘boob-tube’. On my left was Maggie, sporting a black skirt, black stockings and (yes, you guessed it) a black low cut top. Thank God I wasn’t wearing a tie! Whenever I looked at Maggie, my eyeballs felt like they were on puppet strings, as they alternated from her magnificent cleavage up to her endearing face and then back down again. It was like the battle between good and evil; neither aspect ever gaining the upper hand.
After ten minutes of chatting and fishing out our books, the classroom door opened and a member of the administrative staff stuck his head through the gap.
“Mrs____ isn’t here today, so instead of her, you’ve got a film to watch.” he said.
This practice was not uncommon in the colleges I went to, sometimes it was entertaining, sometimes it was boring, but rarely was it educational. The man briefly left, only to reappear pushing a high trolley with a massive TV and antiquated video player on it. He wheeled it erratically to the front of the class, plugged it in and stepped over to the expansive windows to draw the blinds. With the room suitably darkened he set the tape running and wordlessly walked out. Some of the students left almost immediately, they, like me, knew this was probably going to be a waist of time and had better things to do. The rest of us who stayed behind, obviously did not, and we waited sceptically in the semi dark.
The screen flickered and jumped as the tape began to play, bathing us all in a unearthly strobe like light. Another regular feature of these televisual feasts was the TV volume: For some reason it always had to be set at ‘ear-splitting’. College rules I guess.
Anyway, we settled down expecting to see an old and dry professor telling us loudly about the pitfalls of a meritocracy, or explaining the middle-class bias in the IQ test. To this day I can not understand why then, we got a film of some Scandinavian University carrying out scientific studies on the human orgasm. I can see that gender and sexuality have an affect on social structures, but this explicit footage of masturbating women being watched by white-coated scientists with clipboards, was totally surreal.
Within five minutes we could all see what we were in for and more people left. Four or five of the girls ‘tutted’ their disapproval and exited, followed, surprisingly by one of the young lads Eight of us remained; three giggling girls at the front desks, the other young lad on the next row, Lucy, sitting attentively on the third row and finally myself, Tricia and Maggie skulking at the back.
As the stark footage rolled on, showing woman after woman masturbating and cumming at a piercing volume, I started to get hard. The fact I was sat between two absolute babes made the whole situation worse. It was at this point that I regretted choosing to wear loose fitting, white cotton tennis gear and crossed my legs to try and disguise the tell-tale bulge.
In an attempt to distract myself, I glanced around the room and my eyes fell on Lucy who sat keenly studying the screen. She too had her legs crossed, but to my amazement, was also subtlety gyrating her ass upon the seat. This sight raised my temperature to an uncomfortable level and now my cock seemed to be turning my boxers into a tent.
Tricia suddenly placed her left hand on the back of my neck, leant towards me and put her glossy lips to my right ear.
“Looks like Lucy’s enjoying the movie.” she whispered.
Her warm breath blowing over me, her soft hand upon my neck and her firm tit pressed against my arm sent an excited shiver down my body. I nodded my agreement, unable to speak because of the tingling anticipation surging through me. I sensed, rather than saw, Tricia look down at my crotch.
“Oooo, looks like you’re enjoying it too!” she whispered again, this time with a sultry lilt.
I uncrossed my legs and glanced down at the obscene display my cock was putting on in my lap. Tricia brought her other hand over and ran the palm along the length of my jutting bulge. Curling her fingers down over the tip she squeezed, pulling the white cotton tightly around my gland.
“You’re just a dirty old man aren’t you?” she giggled into my ear. “Is it the movie or Lucy wanking that makes your dirty cock so hard?”
Tricia savoured and emphasised the word ‘cock’, elongating it with a husky, guttural affection. My “dirty cock” was “so hard” Escort Beyoğlu due to the overload of turn-ons that lay before me: The scientific porn, Tricia with her toying hand and filthy talk, capped off by the innocent Lucy, masturbating more and more obviously upon her chair.
I didn’t answer the provocative question, choosing instead to turn my head and lightly kiss her cherry flavoured lips. She smiled naughtily, checked no-one in the other rows were watching and slowly unzipped my fly. Taking her left hand down from my neck, she slid it through the open zipper, pulled down the boxer’s waistband and deftly flipped my member free.
“Hmmm, you are a big boy aren’t you?” she purred as my dick flopped heavily against my stomach, drooling a strand of pre-cum on to my ‘T’ shirt. Tricia eagerly took hold and ran her small fist up and down my hardened length.
I turned to Maggie, wondering if she’d seen what the ‘tramp’ to my right was doing. She had seen and was staring fixedly at Tricia’s blatant stroking. Maggie’s hand was laying across her substantial and brazenly displayed cleavage, her little finger extended down under the stretched fabric of the low-cut top. With a flicking movement, plainly discernable under the taut material, she stimulated a long and erect nipple. Sensing my lecherous interest she looked up at me with those dark, hypnotic eyes. Even though her face was almost expressionless, Maggie’s intense gaze somehow transmitted her growing arousal.
“You like Maggie watching us, don’t you?” Tricia said, diverting my attention. I could tell from the wavering voice and rubbing right hand in between her thighs that she was getting hot as well.
“Yes I do, but I bet your cunt is so wet that you’re gonna stain that slutty pink skirt.” I said
Tricia nodded slowly, her fingers tightening their grip on my veined tool. She opened her slim legs and lifted up her skirt, showing me the white panties underneath. She pouted playfully and licked her glistening lips
“You’re just a dirty little girl aren’t you?” I teased.
“Hmmmm, yes I am.” she replied. “Why don’t you play with my ‘dirty little’ pussy?”
Running my right hand slowly along and up her golden brown thigh, I brought my fingers to rest upon her damp panties. Tricia moaned into the nape of my neck as I dragged two fingernails across the translucent cotton crotch. Opening her legs even further, she ground against my scratching hand. Another female test subject came hard and loud on the TV, as if urging me on. Happy to comply, I pulled the thin panties to one side and circled my fingers around her wet hole, teasing it gently before bringing them up over her swollen clit.
Once more Tricia groaned into my neck, kissing and biting my tingling skin. Her left hand had come to a rest at the base of my phallus, she was too lost in her own pleasure to concentrate on my twitching erection.
Then a second, but uncertain hand closed tentatively around my nearly deserted shaft. I looked round at Maggie, she stared back at me with watery eyes and bit at her lower lip as if worried that I may reject her searching touch. My heart raced and my stomach tightened in an almost painful yearning. There was no other girl in the world I would rather have holding my cock. She lightly drew her fingers over my bulbous head , spreading wet pre-cum all around it.
“Ohh, yes Maggie.” I moaned. “Stroke it.”
With greater confidence she slipped her palm back and forth over the tip of my purple gland, whilst her deft fingers played about the rim. She tenderly massaged my dick, instead of roughly jerking it. The sensation was incredible, and God, I could have lost myself in those beautiful eyes!
“Kiss me.” I said to her.
Maggie shuffled her chair right up next to mine, placed her left hand on my cheek and brought that sexy, down-turned mouth up to mine. I kissed her ever so softly, savouring the taste and feel of her full, sensuous lips. I began flicking my tongue lightly over them, and gradually she opened her mouth letting our tongues meet. At that electric moment our kissing became urgent and passionate.
Meanwhile Tricia’s right hand closed over mine, urging me to finger-fuck her. Straightening my first two fingers I slid them, centimetre by slow centimetre into her needy cunt.
“Oh yeah. Oh yeah!” Tricia gasped , her head now resting on my shoulder.
With my fingers buried deep into her muscular tunnel, I curled them upwards and then clamped the palm of my hand firmly against her shaved mound. Tricia responded by pushing her slim hips forward and writhing upon my locked grasp. I realized how lucky I was to be kissing the hottest girl in the class whilst simultaneously finger-fucking the dirtiest!
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Tricia swore as her hole tightened around my fingers and her squashed, pink bud reacted to the grinding pressure of my palm.
They say men can’t multi-task, well I was about to find out if that applied to me. With my unemployed left hand I began to stroke Bomonti escort and caress Maggie’s generous right thigh , gradually bringing my circling fingertips over and beyond her black stockings. I dragged the pleated skirt upwards as my teasing reached the warm flesh of her pale, upper thigh. Her smooth skin, was pliant and responsive to my groping fingers. Maggie broke off our kiss, dropped her hand from my cheek and looked down at the crumpled skirt gathered around her waist. Following Tricia’s example, she pulled the hem right back to expose her black lace panties and erotically spread those curvaceous legs wide apart.
Still impaling the quietly cursing Tricia on my right hand, I cupped my left over Maggie’s panty crotch. I groaned in unsurpassed pleasure, her delicate panties were completely drenched, as were her parted and slippery inner thighs. Only once previously had I been with a girl who literally poured from her pussy, and that had been 15 years earlier. For me there is no greater turn-on, or expression of overwhelming desire, than a girl’s juices running in streams down her legs..
The wetness had flowed copiously in to the folds at the back of her skirt and I breathed in the musky aroma of Maggie’s sweet lust. I watched her as she stared at my hand pressed firmly against her crotch, again she bit at her lower lip and her breathing came in shallow gasps. I don’t know why, but the sight of her desperation made me feel as if my heart was breaking. I slowly pulled the lacy material away from her waiting hole, Maggie shook and quivered in expectation.
I forced my gaze to the front of the class, because just looking at Maggie was going to make me cum. To my surprise, I noticed two things, firstly all the other students except Lucy had left (which, to be honest was not that surprising). Secondly, Lucy herself had turned round and now faced us. Her be-spectacled face lay sideways along the back of the chair and she had let her dull green cardigan fall from her shoulders. The shapeless brown skirt was now pulled up above Lucy’s bare, tightly closed thighs and buried deep between them, her own busy little fingers. Lucy’s eyes flitted from Tricia’s face, down to her spread legs that splayed out pornographically from my penetrating hand. Tricia stared back at the masturbating ‘bookworm’, whilst slowing her lewd gyrations upon my palm to a more considered pace. I got the feeling that she was putting on an X-rated show just for Lucy’s benefit. Where-ever I looked, the image before me made me want to shoot all over Maggie’s pre-cum smothered fingers.
I briefly closed my eyes to keep the pressure in my balls at bay and felt for Maggie’s soaking flower. Slipping my fingers about the lubricated labia and slit, I could tell her large, drowned petals were so very hot and swollen. She moaned huskily, as my fingers parted her pussy lips and rested lightly over her ready hole. In response, Maggie’s hand clamped tightly over my cock and she began to ride it quickly up and down. Denying her willing cunt what it wanted, I raised my fingers to find her clit. When I brushed against her prominent and swollen button, she gave a little sob.
Maggie gasped and cried repeatedly from the insistent rubbing of my fingertips. Her bud jutted out proudly like a wet pearl, hard and round. I clasped it between my straightened fingers and, watching for her reaction, squeezed gently. Her mouth opened wide in pleasure, Maggie’s once passive face now fully expressing heightened arousal.
“Huhh…Huhh…Huhh…PLEASE!” my dream girl begged..
My fingers ran down through Maggie’s bushy mons and I curled them at last, in to her gushing pussy. She gripped the table leg with her left hand and bucked in the chair.
Tricia’s head lifted from my shoulder and her hand left the base of my throbbing cock. Sweet, shy Lucy had crawled across the floor on and was now on her hands and knees under the table. She brought the side of her virginal face up along Tricia’s inner thigh, kissing it softly as she progressed. Impatiently, Tricia buried her hands in to Lucy’s hair, sending her thick glasses spinning to the ground. Then pulled the startled girl’s mouth aggressively to her cunt. I felt Lucy’s lips and nose crush against my hand, Immediately her tongue started frantically licking my creamy fingers and probing Tricia’s stretched hole.
Withdrawing to allow Lucy unhindered access to her pink goal, I felt her wriggling tongue flick at my moist fingers even though they had left Tricia’s cunt.
“Lick it, lick it!” Tricia ordered as she forced Lucy’s pony-tailed head between her shaking thighs.
I smeared my drenched fingers across Maggie’s expansive cleavage, trailing Tricia’s pussy juice and Lucy’s saliva across the white flesh of her heaving bosom. Sliding my hand under the halter of the black top I greedily cupped and fondled her breasts, the irresistibly soft flesh felt satisfyingly heavy in my grasp. Leaning over to experience as much of Maggie’s heavenly body as I could, I kissed and lapped at the curved upper slope of her right tit, tasting the heady mix of Maggie’s salty skin and Tricia’s cunt. Whilst pinching at her bullet like nipples with one hand and finger-fucking her flowing cunt with the other, my teeth pulled at the low neck-line of her top: I wanted to explore all of her wetted breast with my worshipping tongue.