Page 28 of College Boy

Emma’s lips had trailed the length of his veiny shaft until they all but rested atop its fat, mushroom head. Peering down the valley of Mitch’s concave belly, she watched as he shook his head. “Just nervous, I guess.”

“You? About what?”

“You,” Mitch croaked, head propped up atop a pile of pillows and wreathed by his luscious brown curls. “Youmake me nervous, babe.”

She winked and let her warm, eager breath dance across his creamy, iced cockhead. “I hear sexual release can help with anxiety,” she teased back, winking before slithering her tongue through the ragged slit in front of it. He sucked in air with the delicate dance of bittersweet sensitivity and sexy eagerness, body writhing in reply. “Let’s see what we can do about that, huh?” she purred.

Emma heard the prelude of words build on her lover’s tongue before her own danced around the jagged flesh beneath the tip of his raging hard-on. Then he could only gasp, young body seizing as her lips enrobed him at last. The flesh was smooth and fiercely hot, iced with desire that soon dissolved atop her greedy tongue, circling the tip as she wriggled those same lips down, ever down, inviting more of Mitch’s delicious manhood deeper inside.

His gasps echoed through the dimly lit room, the only other sound being Emma’s unleashed desire, loud and moist and sticky as it slathered Mitch with swollen affection. The bed creaked as he writhed beneath her, or perhaps that was Emma, too, grinding her still swollen pussy atop the damp sheets as she indulged in the delights of young, manly flesh wedged between her greedy lips.

“Jesus.” Mitch’s tone was soft and taut, as if afraid to speak too loudly, or even too long, lest he lose control and finish before they even got started. She felt the same tenseness in his body, rigid beneath her hands as she gripped his flexing thighs as if to hold them both in place or, as he began to gently thrust between her puffy lips, spread them gently wider. Her eyes drank him in even as her lips did the same, both devouring the same sexy lover in equal measure.

All the same, Emma sensed the surge coming and approached it with aplomb, giving her long, lanky College Boy the spring break blowjob that fantasies were made of. After all, she mused bittersweetly, sucking loudly and languidly even as poor Mitch began to thrust almost primally, if a week was all the time they had together, better make the most of it.

Mitch sure did. His smooth, satiny flesh slithered in and out of her more than willing lips, slick with lust and eager with anticipation as his grunts began to rival the squeaking bed or slick, wet sucking sounds that filled the room with hot, sordid temptation. Caught up in the moment, grinding her own sticky loins against the mattress beneath them, Emma feasted her eyes on the sordid details that only added to her innate horniness—the peak of Mitch’s thick, puffy nipples, the way his flat belly danced up and down as he struggled to keep control, the drag of his thick, furry balls against the sheets beneath him and, of course, every ridge and bump and vein of his glistening cock as, at last, his desire proved greater than his willpower.

“Shit, Emma, I’m... I’m...”

She released him then, if only to admire the way his sumptuous cock spit thick, glistening ropes across his fluttering belly and panting chest, icing the very scruff that covered his chiseled chin with a sumptuous frosting that proved too tempting to resist.

She waited between thick, pulsing jets to slither her lips stealthily around the pulsing tip, only to savor his musky flavor and friskily devour his seed, basking in its savory warmth and swallowing the last of his boyish load.

Mitch was giddy when at last she released him, admiring his pretty shaft even as it softened in her grip, holding it as if they were teenage lovers sneaking away guiltily to indulge in a little extracurricular activity after football practice. The fantasy thrilled her to no end, much the way Mitch’s arms reaching down to gather her inside them and drag her effortlessly up the mattress to settle in the familiar crook atop his shoulder did.

“A guy could get used to this,” he teased, slithering one thigh beneath her own so that they formed a human pretzel, sticky with lust and salty with sweat.

“So could a girl,” she gushed, no longer afraid to reveal more than just her physical side to the young man she was quickly growing far too attached to, far too soon. His long fingers began twirling a stray lock of hair around them, tugging at her heartstrings all the while. “In fact, I was thinking...”

He pretended to be shocked, turning to favor her with a hurried kiss before murmuring, “Whenever did you find the time?”

They chuckled lazily, as lovers so often did, the bed creaking for newer, different reasons this time. “I mean, we have had a few quiet moments between nonstop sexy times, right?”

“Very few,” he murmured throatily, inspiring her in new and unique ways despite her poor, overworked libido.

“Still, the thought of you, over there, bunking in that cramped pool house got me to thinking...”

“Thinking...” He started to finish Emma’s sentence for her. “How much more comfortable it would be for me? Here in your big, king-size bed? Fucking you silly for the rest of the week?”

She snorted indelicately, but couldn’t deny the accuracy of his prediction. The old Emma would have demurred, balked, hell, at least blushed. The new one? Didn’t want to miss a moment of such an awe-inspiring, mattress frame breaking opportunity. “Would that be so bad?”

“Bad?” Mitch slithered gently down, unfurling from their liquid embrace to face her, their knees touching in mirroring fetal positions. “I’ve literally never thought of anything so good!”

“It would be good, right?” Emma felt giddy at his response. Far too giddy for her own good.

“Better than good,” Mitch insisted, voice low and calm and eyes unreasonably clear. “It would be ... right, I think. To see what might happen, and not just during sexy times.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Emma, gheez, just because I’m young and can go like three, four, maybe even five times a night doesn’t mean I don’t like spending time with you between, uh ... other things.”

Emma merely nodded, wondering what she was getting herself into, and not just the nonstop sex machine part. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, Em.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, slugger.”

“You sure about that?” His voice was hoarse and low, his eyes wide and plaintive, as if playtime was over and this was time forreal talk.

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