Posts Tagged pyop

PYOP-21

21

You try to concentrate, but it is no use. Fuck it. The stupid paper can wait. It is not, after all, quite the last second yet. You consider calling Tomas out on the west coast where it is three hours earlier, but you decide against it.

So. It’s a date. A big glass of rum and V-8; good old internet porn; and your gyrating new rabbit vibrator with fresh AAs.

You get all worked up, reading saucy stories, and looking at sexy pictures and watching nasty videos. You hold off as long as you can stand to, teasing yourself with your fingers, getting wetter and wetter, until your pussy feels like an over-ripe peach, and you are sitting in a sticky puddle of your own creation.

Both feet up on the desk, kicking aside textbooks and stacks of paper, you grab your trusty pink vibe in hand and jam. You belatedly sort of wish you had a small something up your asshole, just for the sensation and the pressure back there, but there is no way you are about to stop now to grab something appropriate.

You bury the humming toy in your juicy pussy. It wiggles and squirms pleasingly as you slide it in and out, tantalizing your clit. Fuck this. Crammed in all the way, grinding it up and down, you press the buzzing tip hard against your engorged, sensitive clit.

You come hard, really hard, stomach muscles clenched, toes flexing and curling, nipples sticking out like pencil erasers. At long last you slump back in your chair. It is late. The vibrator falls from your slippery fingers and tumbles to the floor where it instantly acquires a coating of dust bunnies. Tomorrow you will wash it off. Tomorrow you will write that paper. You turn out the light and stumble naked into bed.

In the dark, under the covers, you finger yourself to another softer, more drawn-out orgasm. In the morning you will go to the library, buckle down and really get a handle on that mid-term. You sleep hard, and do not dream.

END

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PYOP-22

22

You tap lightly at the door. There is no response. You take a deep breath and try again.

This time you knock slightly harder, and the door swings open of it’s own accord. What you see inside literally takes your breath away.

Sacchidananda is splayed out, nude, across a purple bean bag. Her skin is the color of coffee, and she has no tan lines. Her breasts are large and full, pancaked across her chest, the nipples big and erect. Her belly is soft and her navel is deep. There is a neatly-trimmed triangle of black hair at the intersection of her thick, shapely thighs.

Paul, skinny and pale, is kneeling between her legs, dragging the head of his erect cock up and down her juicy, purple, pouting pussy slit.

Their heads turn to face you as you enter the room. Sacchidananda smiles warmly and beckons to you.  Paul tells you to close the door.

You kneel next to them. You can feel the heat from their bodies, smell their excitement. You have a front-row seat as Paul nudges the fat head of his dick between Sacchidananda’s swollen labia, and slowly, achingly slowly, slides his cock up inside her.

You unselfconsciously strip out of your clothes while they fuck, slow and deep, Paul burying his large dick all the way inside her so that their pubes are mashed together, and then withdrawing almost all the way until the head is barely nestled between her slick lips. Every time he thrusts into her, she makes a cute little whimpering noise. Her nipples stand out like blood-red gumdrops.

You reach out and touch her breast. It is warm and soft. You like it. You like the way it feels. You pinch the nipple, tugging and twisting, gently at first, then when she doesn’t object, harder and more forcefully.

“Uhh, fuck!” Sacchidananda gasps out, “You’re going to make me come!” Your own pussy feels swollen and wet. Your clit is poking out, sensitive and obnoxious.

As if on cue, Paul pulls his quiveringly hard cock out of her pussy. It is harder than hard, and thoroughly coated in her slick juices. Sacchidananda lifts up her legs, pulling her knees up to her chest, and Paul presses the bulbous head of his cock against her dark brown, crinkled asshole.

She grunts softly as he penetrates her, sliding his big wet dick up her anus. In and out he moves, gently but steadily, an unstoppable force. Her head lolls from side to side, and her clit bulges out, a ripe little cherry.

You slide your finger up her pussy. She is wet, incredibly slippery wet, and shockingly hot inside. You can feel Paul’s dick moving inside her ass through the thin membrane of flesh. He moans out loud at your touch, thrusting harder, abandoning gentle as he starts to come.

Sacchidananda is coming too, coming as you finger her pussy and Paul pumps hot sticky semen into her asshole. She wails so loudly you are afraid the Axis and Allies contingent in the basement will come up to investigate. Her stomach heaves and pitches, her cunt spasms on your fingers. Her orgasm is a beautiful thing, a sacred dance, a lotus flower unfolding in fast-forward.

At last Paul pulls out, exiting her asshole with a little pop, his dick soft and much smaller. Sacchidananda rolls over with a big happy smile on her face. You experimentally lick her come off your fingers; she has a nice taste, clean, tangy, almost spicy.

You kneel down, and Paul comes at you from behind, stroking, petting, teasing, opening. Sacchidananda kisses you and plays with your breasts, her own big boobs hanging down like great chocolate water balloons as Paul deftly fingers your pussy and asshole, keeping one hand constantly moving around and across your clit, until you come, hard and long, crying out loud with the sheer pleasure of it, arching your back and curling your toes and kissing Sacchidananda desperately on her full soft lips, as if your life depends on it.

After a short interval, they get dressed and leave you there, curled up in a sweaty little ball, naked on the bean bag. You should get yourself together. You should put your clothes back on and go downstairs. You should go back to the dorms, back to your room. You do, after all, have a paper to write.

END

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