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I'd noticed her before. How could I not? Her figure a breathtaking crescendo of curves and curls; her thick, shoulder-length brown hair tinted whichever shade took her fancy that week; her round hazel eyes and scarlet lips bursting with the colours of an autumn dawn. She was stunning, a tie-dyed Rita Hayworth.
As I walked into the packed library, I first noticed that this week's colour was a reddish-purple, and then that the only place left was opposite her.
"Exam term," I exhaled and swallowed my shyness to take my place, nervously emptying my bag and not daring to look up. I settled down to yet another day struggling to decode my own handwriting, let alone the finer nuances of Enlightenment philosophy. 'What does Hume mean when he says that justice is an artifice but is not arbitrary?'
"For God's sake," I sighed and finally looked up, running my hands slowly down my already-tired face. It was going to be one of those days. Staring out in front of me I saw her reach below her desk for a bottle of water, her huge, comely breasts straining against her strappy top and revealing a long, dark valley of cleavage. I kept staring. I had spent entire lectures transfixed and lost in her chest, tracing the lacy outline of her bra through snug winter jumpers and the gentle sway of her tits in low summer tops, hungrily imagining their heavy warmth against my hands.
She looked up from her work, and my startled eyes scurried back to my notes. 'How does Burke distinguish the sublime from the beautiful?' My cheeks burnt up, and I felt her smile.
A few minutes passed, then a slight tickling sensation ran up my leg. I looked down: nothing. I sighed once more and took a sip from my water. Again I felt it, this time rising higher. I looked across the desk and saw her face, often so serious, light up in a girlish smile and break out in a half-giggle. I looked down and, bare-footed, she was running a pale foot against my leg. Her nails were painted, a kind of mauve to match her hair. Shyly, I smiled back, then bolted to the sanctuary of my notes. 'Why does Rousseau say that the General Will cannot err?'
Still, she continued, rising higher towards my inner thigh. My cock hardened with excitement as she gently brushed her toes against it. I looked up again, and she played seductively with a pen in her mouth: first flicking it against her teeth, then trailing it deliberately across her plump lower lip. Slowly she closed her lips around it, sucking softly and lowering her eyelids. I gulped dryly and bucked in my chair as she dragged her perfect foot along my hard length, pawing at my foreskin and letting out a short, breathy moan.
Then she stopped. Everything stopped. She returned her foot to her sandal, her pen to its designed purpose, and her attention to her notes. Wound up and agonisingly horny, my mind struggled back to my revision. 'What were Kant's...'
"Oh God," I moaned to myself; concentration was now beyond me. I shuffled secretly against the fabric of my jeans. Across the table, she affected a theatrical yawn and pushed her arms as wide as they could go, thrusting her magnificent tits before my hungry eyes. Her eyes closed and a smile moved across the speckled landscape of her freckled face. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
Suddenly, she rose from her chair and came over to me. As she leaned over me, her cleavage began to unfurl from beneath her lemon-yellow top. I could smell her perfume, feel the heat of her skin next to me.
She whispered hotly and slowly in one ear, "I'll give you one minute to calm down," then the other, "then meet me in the basement." Parting, she kissed my cheek and giggled quietly.
My notes became an incomprehensible jumble of names and concepts: "Vico...Montesquieu...anarchical fallacies...Telemachus..." next to the far more enticing "calm down...basement...minute." Regaining my composure as best I could, I half-ran across the library, concealing my semi and dodging tables as I passed.
A cupboard door swung open, and she pulled me inside, pushing me to the wall with a forceful kiss against my lips. I tasted the sharp, sweet cherry of her lip balm and could feel her chest heaving against mine as her hand groped down the front of my jeans and her tongue wrestled with mine.
She pulled away from my lips and began unbuckling my belt and loosening my flies. "I've seen you staring at me," she breathed in a cut-glass accent, her wide hazel eyes burning with a violent red lust, "you fucking perv."
My cock was thick, rock hard and chiselled, with every vein showing in my desperation. She knelt down to take me in her mouth. Her wet heat made my neck shudder and I staggered backwards; my body exploded in goose bumps as she took more and more of me, squeezing my length between those thick, wet lips, gasping as she moved ravenously up and down my shaft. A small, round stud danced along the sensitive ridge beneath my throbbing helmet. I was on the edge as she pulled away, leaving a gossamer thread of spittle that stretched from her tongue to the tip of my cock, leaking with precum.
She spluttered, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and looked up, smiling a filthy smile. "I'm not wearing any panties." Without thinking, I took her up, wrestling her flowing, floor-length gypsy skirt over her hips and feeling for her warm, soaked pussy against my fingers.
She moaned and widened her legs apart. The soft brush of thick hair shocked, but somehow didn't surprise. There was something hippy about her, and that had always turned me on to her. Breathing hard through my nostrils, I drank in her scent and was consumed by a primal, animal passion. I pushed myself against her body, and my free hand groped and pawed at those enormous tits I'd spent far too many lectures staring at. I fumbled her on to a low shelf, lifted her skirt and positioned myself to enter her. I felt her humidity envelop me. My god, it had been far, far too long.
I glided past her fleshy, velvet walls and gasped in winded shock, as if every breath had been taken from me. I looked deep into her wide, wild eyes as her pupils spilled, then overflowed, and a nipple hardened against my groping hand.
"Fuck me, you dirty cunt," she urged, "fuck me hard."
I released weeks of pent-up work tension, and many more months of sexual frustration, on her body and white-hot cauldron We devoured each other like animals, my cock thrusting manically inside her as she dug her nails hard into my shoulder, her breaths turning to moans and then to screamed exhortations.
"Take me, you fucking perv. Fuck me like you've always wanted."
I ran my hands over every curve of that perfect body - her thick thighs and ripe arse, the baby-soft skin around her hips, and those round, heavy, immaculate tits that bounced freely beneath her top. I kneaded their soft flesh and pinched her hard nipples between my thumb and forefinger. She yelped at my touch, gasping with pained ecstasy.
"That's it. Please," she begged, "Fuck me like that!"
Her perfume smelled sweet, like strawberries, and I lapped up beads of dewy perspiration as I kissed her neck and rutted wildly between her thighs, her heat and moans overcoming my senses and making me forget myself.
"You fucking slut," I gasped in her ear.
Shocked at my words, I fucked harder and pulled down at her top, releasing a round, pink nipple. I sucked hard, months of hunger and longing released in one moment.
"Oh god yes!" she screamed, "fuck me hard, like the dirty slut I am!"
I squeezed her arse tightly and drilled deep inside her, my tip touching her cervix as shelves and cabinets rattled around us. My tongue dived into her hot cherry mouth as I drove into her tight, wet cunt. Her legs closed around me like a locked vice, holding me deep in the hot depths of her tight sex.
"Give it to me like you want it! I've seen the way you look at me."
My toes curled to keep every scintilla of pleasure inside me, letting nothing out and prolonging this heavenly moment until I could take no more. I bit down hard on the soft part of her neck, slamming my cock hard and fast into her sodden cunt with reckless abandon.
"I'm gonna come," I finally gasped. She released herself, dropping to her knees and frantically removing the straps of her top. Her enormous tits had only a slight, womanly sag, but otherwise sat high and firm on her chest.
"Come over me, you dirty cunt," she spat, "you know you want to."
She opened her mouth and projected a pierced tongue. I wanked furiously as she pushed her tits together.
"Come on," she urged, "give it to me. Shoot all over my tits."
My spunk shot out of my cock in heavy loads, covering her tits, hair, and face with ropes of hot, white cum. I threw my head back and roared, my fist pumping furiously as my knees buckled beneath me. "Fuck YESSSS!"
With my cum oozing down her face and dripping down her cleavage, she plunged her mouth down my throbbing shaft, bobbing up and down and sucking every last drop from my spent, pulsing cock, wanking its length in her fist until I grew limp.
"Fuck! I needed that," I breathed when finally she stopped, panting and on her knees. I stroked her hair and looked into those hazel eyes.
"I think we both did," she laughed, wiping my cum from her chest. "Nice to finally get to know you..."
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