Doctor's Dream Part 2 free porn video

A sudden beep interrupts my morning perusal of files on my desk.

"I have a 'Jessica' on the line for you, Doctor," the receptionist's voice announces from my speaker phone.

"Thanks," I say and lower my coffee onto a coaster. It has been three days since Jessica's initial screening. I scoop the handset off the cradle when I hear the line click through.

"Hello?" she says, her voice sounding squeakier than I remember.

"Hi Jessica,' I reply. "How are you?"

"Hi, I'm fine Doc. I'm so glad you answered. Are you busy right now?"

"No, not at all. What's on your mind?"

"Um, I was just calling, you know, to see if you had my results yet."

"Oh. Well, no, actually I don't have your blood-work back yet, but that's normal. I probably won't hear from the lab until tomorrow; Friday. Don't worry yourself about it in the meantime. I still need to look at your tapes too. Like I said, I'll give you a call as soon as I have your results written up."

"Oh."

"It'll probably be Monday, okay?"

"Okay."

A pause stretches out between us over the phone. I can hear a faint static in the background so I presume she is on a cellular phone rather than a landline.

"Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?" I ask.

"Well... I'll be back at my college on Monday, so... um, OK this is totally random... Don't get mad, but I was wondering if, um... if you could meet me for lunch."

Suddenly I am grinning. I have to make a conscious effort to sound calm when I ask: "You mean today?"

"Yeah. Or tomorrow. Whenever's better."

"Well," I say slowly, "let me just check my calendar." Of course, I have no need to scroll through the next two days' appointments on the screen in front of me. I know I can make room for this.

"I tell you what, Jessica," I say after a pause, "tomorrow would be better for me."

"Great!" she says with obvious excitement.

"There is a little place a couple blocks from my office that I go to sometimes. If we get there at about one o'clock the worst of the lunchtime rush will be ending. How's that sound?"

"Awesome. What's the name and I'll Google it."

Sixty seconds later we are off the phone, but the rest of my afternoon is ruined. I can't concentrate on anything. Patients come and go. The staff hands me paperwork to sign. It is all a blur. Finally after my last patient leaves I decide I should sit and watch the 2 or 3 minutes of video made during Jessica's exam since I cannot keep her appointment out of my thoughts anyway. As I expected, the videos reveal nothing troubling. Of course, that was never the point. The process itself had been the more important component of the screening. Seeing how she adapted to that kind of physicality had been my primary objective and the tapes of course contain none of the wonderful reactions she displayed. All the images, textures and sounds of that appointment are seared far more vividly into my brain.

At four thirty I lock my office and head to the gym.

* * * * *

The next morning is busy at my office and noon arrives quickly. By twelve thirty I have already hung up my lab coat and washed my hands. I stride past the receptionist's desk in my suit with no tie, headed for the door.

"I'm headed to lunch," I say. "I'll be back around two."

"Have a good one," she replies without looking up.

Outside it is unseasonably warm. There is apparently a miniature heat wave headed our way this weekend. Given that the café is only three blocks away I decide to walk.

I arrive a few minutes early, and as I scan the busy crowd at the outdoor tables I see that Jessica is not there. I catch the young hostess' attention and point to a table near the stone wall that separates the outdoor dinning area from the main building. She smiles at me over the crowd of people and raises two fingers inquisitively. I nod back and she grabs two menus from her podium and waves me over toward the table.

I take the chair closest to the low stone wall, with my back to the sun, and take the liberty of ordering a couple of ice-teas. From here I can see the entrance and most of the guests. It is a pretty hip crowd -- mostly young working professionals trying to sneak in a long lunch away from the office or get an early start on the weekend.

The two ice-teas arrive on little plates with half a lemon wrapped in thin white cloth beside each glass. As the server arranges them on the table I catch a glimpse of Jessica's Nissan gliding passed. It slows and turns the corner, presumably pulling into the parking lot next door.

Jessica's tanned face and long hair bob into view less than a minute later as she walks along the sidewalk from the direction of the parking lot. I cannot see what she is wearing yet because of the crowd between us. She reaches the entrance, steps through the little gate and looks around.

The noise level actually drops by several decibels as every guy in the place stops talking and stares. Inside each of their brains, I imagine the same sequence of primal synapses firing. Probably half the women stop talking too, but for different reasons.

Inside my own head, endorphins run rampant as I scan Jessica from head to toe. She is wearing a white mini-dress that ends ten inches above her knees. Actually, it is not enough to say she is wearing it. She wields it like a weapon. It hijacks half my brain along with half the conversations in the restaurant.

I stand up and wave Jessica over. She flashes me a giant smile before picking her way between the tables. Conversations slowly resume themselves around us.

As she approaches, her outfit comes into sharper focus. Her dress appears to be made of elasticized cotton, bright white and tastefully tight. There is some kind of crisscross, woven pattern layered over the underlying fabric, lending the all-white dress an expensive, textured look. She leans in to give me a hug. A teardrop opening below the dress' neckline provides a peek-a-boo window into her cleavage.

We exchange pleasantries. She drags her chair around the little round table until it is almost next to mine. As we both sit down, she doffs her small purse onto the arm of her chair. She then turns in her seat to aim her knees at me and gracefully crosses her bare legs.

I lift my ice tea and we clink the glasses together. As she takes a pull from hers I glance down. Her legs are smooth, tan and utterly hairless. A subtle sheen reflects the sun's glare, suggesting a healthy coat of moisturizing lotion. The hemline of her dress is teasingly high, making her thighs appear longer than they are. If it were only another inch shorter, I am sure I would be able to see her panties from here.

"Gorgeous day, isn't it?" she asks.

"Absolutely," I reply, embarrassed to find her already staring at me when I lift my gaze up from her lap.

"Do you have to go back to work after this?" she asks.

"Yes, I do."

"That sucks. I'm headed to the pool. One of the few perks of spending Spring Break at home; I get to mooch off my parents' club membership."

"The Golf and Tennis Club?"

"Yeah, we have a pool at home, but it's more fun to go there. Are you a member too?"

"No. Golf is not my thing. I just go to the gym near my office... not too far from here."

Jessica lifts her iced tea off the table and takes another pull from the tall glass. A stream of condensation drips onto her exposed thigh. The icy water makes her jump and un-cross her legs, treating me to a flash of bright blue fabric from beneath her dress, like an azure triangle of joy.

I hold out my napkin to her. She accepts it and wipes her tanned thighs dry before laughing and offering me her unused napkin in return.

"Thanks," she says, re-crossing her legs. Another flash of the blue triangle, this one cut short when she tugs her hemline back down. "I hope the pool is a little warmer than that!"

I smile. Our server arrives and rattles off the specials while we belatedly scan our menus. Jessica settles on a Cobb salad. I go for one of the specials: capellini vongole in a wine reduction. As we hand off our menus it occurs to me that Jessica is still a year away from being able to legally order wine. A twinge of guilt runs through me for a moment, and I lean back into my chair as though adding some distance will somehow cleanse my conscience.

As if on cue, Jessica leans toward me conspiratorially, resting her elbows on her knees. "Do you know why I asked you to lunch?" she whispers.

"I have a feeling you're about to tell me," I reply.

"My mom told me everything."

"Everything about what?"

"You. That little donation center you run. That you've never been married. The parties you throw. Everything."

I sense a bluff. "And so...?"

"So my little exam on Monday... was just a tease, wasn't it? Compared to what you do with your girlfriends."

"Now I have girlfriends?"

"Well?" she whispers, "I'm right, aren't I?"

Jessica leans back in her chair and waits.

"Look," I begin, "I don't know what you heard from your mom, but my personal life is not something I discuss with patients."

"I'm not a patient! I'm totally healthy. That exam was just a test or something, wasn't it? For some kind of secret guest-list you run?"

I sit very still and say nothing.

"Am I right?" she persists, raising one eyebrow.

"It doesn't matter whether you are right or not," I say after a pause.

"Why not?"

"Because, if you're wrong, then there is no such thing, and if you are correct, I couldn't tell you about it anyway."

"Why not?"

"Well, clearly," I smile, "because then it wouldn't be a secret anymore, would it?"

"Oh my God, you're impossible!" she blurts out, leaning forward to give my knee a shove with her hand. She then sits back in her chair and glances around the café, apparently giving up her quest for truth.

I change the subject, telling her that all her blood tests had come back clean. She seems unsurprised by this, almost disinterested. It is an attitude she shares with most young people who have never been seriously sick. Other possible outcomes had not occurred to her.

"I broke up with Ryan," she announces.

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. I did it three months ago... after he moved. I just don't like to tell people."

"Oh."

"My social life has needed a makeover for a while. Ryan and my relationship was so high-school. That's not how I want to spend my twenties."

"Eating leftovers?"

"Hah! Yeah, a leftover from high school. My teenage wasteland."

Food arrives. We eat and chat. I can tell that Jessica wants to ask me something, but she keeps stopping herself just short of it, whatever it is. I ask her about school, her plans for the summer. All the usual things one asks a college student.

By the end of the meal I can see Jessica is getting frustrated. Perhaps she is mad at herself for not being able to work up the nerve to ask me whatever it that is on her mind. As I am signing the modest bill, she suddenly offers to drive me back to work.

"Seriously," she says. "It's the least I can do since you insisted on picking up the check."

"Alright," I consent. "Thanks."

Luckily the crowd has thinned a bit, so I don't get too many dirty looks as I follow Jessica out of the restaurant. She, of course, seems oblivious to the hawkish glances from older women (and gape-mouthed stares from older men) who track our progress toward the exit. Once out on the sidewalk, we amble side-by-side around the corner toward the parking lot.

Jessica's Nissan is parked in the sun. It looks spotless.

"Nice car," I offer as she defeats the remote alarm.

"Thanks. I have kind of a thing about cars."

"No harm in that. Looks like you take good care of it."

"Yeah, but I can't take all the credit for that. I just had it detailed."

We climb in and drop the windows to release the hot air trapped inside. Jessica surprises me by removing her sandals and tucking them behind her seat.

"I can't drive in those," she explains as her left foot depresses the clutch pedal and she wakes the engine.

"A stick shift, no less," I add with genuine enthusiasm.

She is checking her mirrors now and notching the gearbox into reverse. As she slips the clutch and gets us rolling back out of the spot, she glances at me sideways and states: "Automatics are for soccer-moms, and I am not a soccer mom."

"No, indeed you are not," I smile in response. As we nose out into the street she checks for cross traffic and then pulls away forcefully in first gear. I glance over and notice that her confidence and smile have both returned. Whatever was bothering her at the restaurant seems to have subsided. I also can't help noticing how lovely she looks with her bare feet working the pedals as we pace the traffic down Third Street toward my office.

The turn we need to make is fast approaching, but Jessica is not slowing down.

"It's the next right," I pipe up.

"I know," she says. "But I'm k**napping you first. Don't be mad. I just need you to help me with a quick errand."

"Oh, really," I say, glancing at my watch. "And what might that be?"

"You'll see."

Over the five minutes and twenty intersections that follow, I develop two new appreciations. The first is that Jessica is very skilled at driving stick. The second is that every clutch-stroke she executes causes another few millimeters of thigh to be exposed as her dress' hemline creeps higher and higher. The sunshine angles down through her window and bathes her lap in its glow. Each time I glance over, I can see a little fraction more of her blue panties.

Suddenly we turn left into a dirty, potholed parking lot. In front of us is one of those creepy triple-X stores with mirrored windows and a neon sign above the door. The car rolls to a stop and she yanks up the parking brake.

"You're k**ding, right?" I state.

"No. I need you to come with me. I can't go in there alone."

"That's true. You shouldn't."

"So you'll come with me?"

"Um, no. We're not going in there. Why do you want to, anyway?"

She smiles and turns in her seat to face me a little more, resting her elbow on the edge of the door. "Well, I've never had one before, but you've inspired me to get a vibrator."

"I inspired you?"

"Hell yeah. So now you have to help me pick one out, and, um, you know, protect me from whatever creeps hang out in this place."

"You've never been in here, have you?"

"No way. I've just always known it was here 'cause you can see if from the off-ramp."

"OK, Jessica, I tell you what: I'm happy that you're becoming more adventurous. And I'm happy to help, but this is not the place for you. Take me back to work and on the way I'll call a friend of mine who can set you up with what you're looking for."

"You know someone who sells vibrators?"

"Just drive. Before we get carjacked."

"Oh, please. It's not that bad of a neighborhood."

Just then a morbidly obese man steps out from the store, shouting into a cell phone in a Slavic dialect. His track-suit is shiny velour and his hair is thinning above his pale, moon-like face. He appears to be wearing three pagers on the elastic waistband of his pants.

"Jessica," I say, "that guy is capable of c*********ing you with a rag and selling you to a brothel in Lithuania."

"That is horrible! I can't believe you just said that!"

"I could be wrong. Maybe he's a nice guy who runs a family grocery. You need to be aware of both possibilities."

"That's why I brought you with me."

"Point taken. Now drive please, before he decides to sit on the car."

"Alright already, I'm going."

Jessica snatches reverse to get us out of the parking lot. The engine makes a satisfying snarl as we then pull away in first gear, round the corner and accelerate out onto the main road. I pull out my phone and scroll through the names until I find Carol.

She answers on the first ring.

"Hi Carol, it's your favorite Doctor. How are you?" I begin. We catch up briefly. Then I tell her about Jessica.

"I'll send her to you directly," I say. "She's a beginner, so set her up with whatever you think she might like. Just be sure to include a good set of beads. Jumbo ones, okay?"

In less than a minute I am off the phone. As Jessica works her through traffic on the way back toward my office, I write Carol's address on a scrap of paper and describe the best way to get there.

Jessica is incredulous: "You know someone who sells vibrators out of her home?"

"Of course. Can't you see why that makes more sense than selling them out of a store? People appreciate discretion in these matters. And Carol and her partner only buy the best. Trust me, you'll spend more with her, but you'll be much happier."

"How much more?"

"Probably $200. Cash only."

"Really? Huh. Go Carol."

We glide to a stop at the last red light before my office. Jessica looks at me sideways for a long moment, then volunteers. "My parents leave for the weekend in a few hours. If you're free tomorrow, why don't you come for a swim at the house?"

"Sounds nice," I reply.

"I have a feeling I'm going to need some guidance with all this stuff Carol is about to sell me."

I stare back at her and grin. "That would be a pleasure too."

The light turns green and we turn left onto the street outside my office. Jessica stops near the doorway and sets the parking brake.

"Do you know where it is?" she asks.

"Your folks' house?"

"Yeah."

"I've never been, but I believe I have the address in your file."

"I could just text it to you if you give me your cell number."

We exchange phone numbers, then I tug the door-release and prepare to step out while she is keying my number into her phone.

"What time are you coming tomorrow?" she asks.

"How does 1:00 sound? Should be warm enough for a swim by then."

"Great. I'll make lunch, so come hungry."

"Will do," I say as I climb out of the car finally. "Thanks again for the lift."

"See you tomorrow!"

I shut the door. She smiles brightly in my direction before pulling away.

* * * * *

Consciously or not, the next morning I find myself being more meticulous than usual about my grooming. It is not every day I get invited to teach a gorgeous twenty-year-old how to play with her new vibrators. I leave my house shortly after noon, stop by my favorite wine shop for a nice bottle, and then type Jessica's home address into my GPS. The house is way up in the hills outside of town, and the road is scenic and fun. The air is very warm, and the heat seems to rise with the elevation as my car climbs higher and higher up into the foothills.

Without too much trouble, I find the gated driveway of Jessica's parents' home. It is fairly isolated, and the long driveway wanders back hundreds of yards from the road, into what must be at least a ten-acre parcel of land. The driveway leads to a clearing, wherein I find a sprawling two-story Spanish mission style home. I park next to Jessica's Z and climb out with the bottle of Riesling in my hand.

The front door is a huge wooden affair with exposed iron hinges and a giant knocker. Before I have a chance to reach for the doorbell button though, I hear Jessica yell to me from above: "I'm coming!"

A moment later the door pulls wide open and Jessica greets me with one of her signature grins -- bleached white teeth from ear to ear.

"Hi!" she exclaims, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she backs away to allow me through the doorway.

"Hi," I reply.

She is bursting with energy. Her bare feet tap-dance on the terracotta floor as I step over the threshold. She takes the wine from my hand and I cannot resist giving her a quick head-to-toe glance. Her long hair hangs down past her shoulders in playful curls, kept away from her pretty face by a small silver clip above her blue eyes. Sitting low around her hips is a denim miniskirt the brevity of which would make even Daisy Duke blush. Her mid-drift is naked and tan. Above that, a tiny cotton tank top rides the swell of her bouncing breasts. Its lower hem, like that of her skirt, appears to have been cut off with scissors several washings ago, leaving her lean tummy and even her lowermost ribs exposed. Most distractingly, her top's ultra-thin fabric does nothing to conceal the bra-less state of her huge tits. Her nipples show as two prominent bumps, bobbing like corks on the swells of an elasticized cotton sea.

She spins away from me and takes off down the hall at a skipping pace. It takes me a moment to recover from the shock of her overtly sexual appearance. I almost forget to shut the door behind me in my haste to follow her down the hallway.

I find her in the kitchen. My bottle of wine sits on the counter, apparently already forgotten. Jessica is busy pouring two large glasses from plastic pitcher.

"It's so warm, I decided to make margaritas!" she announces proudly.

"Sure, why not?" I reply as she hands me a salt-rimmed glass.

"Cheers!" she smiles.

With drink in hand, she beckons me to follow her through the living room and out through a broad French-door door to the rear patio where a beautiful and sunlit swimming pool awaits us.

I watch her backside hungrily as she walks to the other end of the pool and crouches down to retrieve the underwater thermometer.

"Eighty-two degrees," she calls to me before dropping the thermometer back into the water. "I hope you brought your shorts."

"I did."

"Great!" she says with another smile.

I cannot avert my eyes from her as she parades back toward me alongside the pool. Her narrow miniskirt rocks from side to side with each stride while her breasts bounce and oscillate in a hypnotically complex rhythm beneath her white top. How any man could force himself to look away from this is beyond me.

"Why don't you go get your shorts and change upstairs while I bring the lunch stuff out?" she suggests.

"Sounds good," I say, and turn to follow her back into the house.

Five minutes later I am back outside in my board-shorts, enjoying the full strength of the sunshine in a deckchair beside the pool. Jessica has arranged a bowl of fruit salad and a tray of thin sandwiches on a low table between the two lounge chairs. She emerges from the house again, this time carrying the plastic pitcher of margaritas.

"Free re-fills," she says with a smirk. She sets the pitcher down beside the tray and flops herself into the other chair. A moment later I hear the sound of a zipper and glance sideways to watch her wiggle out of her miniskirt. She pushes it down to her ankles, revealing the bottom half of a black string bikini. She kicks the miniskirt off to one side and then settles back into the rubbery cushions of her chair. I fantasize for a moment that she might peel off her tank-top as well, but it does not happen.

We fall into an easy conversation about nothing in particular, each enjoying the warmth of the sun and the pleasure of each other's company. Once our margaritas are about half-empty, I ask her how her shopping-spree at Carol's house had gone. She laughs and proceeds to recount the entire episode for me. Without much prompting, she reveals that her evening at home alone afterwards had involved several climactic rounds of play with her new toys. One little vibrating egg in particular, she says, has established itself as an early favorite, but she admits that a couple of the more interesting items remain unused. I ask her about the string of beads, and she shakes her head, saying Carol had told her to ask me about how to use those. I make a mental note to give Carol an extra nice birthday gift this year.

Fifteen minutes later the heat has become too much for me. I finish my margarita and hoist myself out of the deckchair to make my way over to the edge of the pool. I walk down the underwater steps and submerge myself in the clear water. I swim a few easy laps and then take a seat on a small underwater ledge in the far corner of the deep-end, kicking my legs slowly beneath the surface.

Jessica sees me gazing back in her direction and rises from her chair. She drains the last of her margarita in a three-swallow pull and then slowly walks to the edge of the pool. Daintily, she dips in a toe. To my surprise and delight, she then walks around to the deep-end and climbs onto the small diving board. After a couple hops, she dives headfirst into the water. I watch her swim beneath the surface all the way to the other end of the pool, where her head finally pops up for air. She takes a few breaths and then tilts her head back briefly beneath the surface to pull her hair away from her face.

"It's nice here, isn't it?" she asks across the water.

"Yeah, it's fantastic," I reply.

She watches me from the shallow end of the pool for a minute and then suddenly stands straight up, waist-high in the water. I feel my jaw drop a notch as her wet tank top, now totally transparent, sucks itself tightly against the contours of her tits. She stands there, casually re-tying one side of the string bikini around her hips, apparently inviting me to stare at her dripping body. Once the string is retied she returns my gaze and slowly starts to push through the water toward me, gradually sinking as she walks down the sloping floor of the pool. The cotton material of her top floats away from her skin as the water rises around her. When the water eclipses her shoulders, she raises her arms straight up, takes a deep breath and drops beneath the surface. The tank top floats to the surface alone.

I watch her wavering shape through the water as she swims across the long pool toward the ledge where I am sitting. She bursts from the surface right between my knees -- her face skyward so that her hair is slicked back by the water. Instinctively I reach out to catch her. She lands almost in my lap, with one hand on my chest and her other on my shoulder, blinking away the water from her eyes. Her skin is slippery in my hands, but I manage to pull her up onto my thigh. She turns her hips to sit there, her legs between my own. Her enormous tits hang between us, naked and dripping. We lock eyes for a moment, and then she throws her mouth against mine in a hungry kiss.

Our tongues dance urgently together for the first time and her arms surround my neck. My hands slide up to her ribcage, pulling her closer to me. I can feel the softness of a naked breast there against my inner forearm. I restrain the urge to caress that pendulous flesh and instead concentrate on returning every ounce of her passionate kiss.

For several long minutes her mouth continues to attack my own with the intensity of a new lover. Her lips suck and pull at mine while her tongue chases around inside my mouth. Her saliva tastes sweet, like peach juice. Her body twists in my lap, turning toward me and climbing higher until her knees are straddling my hips and her feet are tucked beneath her. She presses the full abundance of her chest against my own.

Her mouth pulls away just long enough to say: "God, I love kissing you!" Then her lips latch themselves back onto my face. I give up trying to be polite with my hands and unleash them to run wild across her amazing body.

Every tactile pleasure I had imagined these past few days while bearing witness to her nubile shape is suddenly eclipsed by the reality I feel beneath my hands. Jessica's body is a sensual masterpiece: taut and firm where I want it to be, supple and elastic where I want it to be. Her thighs are muscular and smooth. Her stomach is rock-hard. Her waist feels even smaller than it looks. When I finally allow my hands to wander up to her breasts, I find them springier, lighter and more resilient than I ever could have hoped. I cup my hands around her ribcage and lift her skyward. Our mouths disconnect and she lets out a cute yelp as I raise her up until her nipples level with my eyes. I pull her to me and bury my face into her cleavage, then loop one arm behind her back to pin her in this position.

She lets out a laugh and wraps her arms around my head. Gradually I let her slide back down, keeping her body tight against me as she slips. By the time our mouths reconnect her breasts are stacked high against my collarbones like a pair of compressed water-balloons. Her cleavage smothers the base of my neck.

"I get the feeling you like my boobs," she whispers into my mouth between kisses. I nod yes as our lips press against each other once more.

She releases her grip on my head and pushes back slightly. I slacken my hold on her body so she can lean away a bit more and shift her weight onto my thighs. She drops her arms to her sides, using them to squeeze her naked breasts together in a posture I recognize from her exam. I reward her by ducking my head forward and latching my mouth onto her right nipple. She squeals and giggles as I suck on it hard. I return my hands to sides of her ribcage and pull her back toward me until her tits are again level with my face. I start to alternate between her nipples, sucking on each one until they both look maximally engorged. They now stand out like large cherries, swollen and dark-red. Squeezing inward with my hands, I compress her tits tightly together; creating a glorious display of cleavage just inches from my eyes. Encircling the girth of each breast with a hand, I realize I am only able to hold about 40% of their collective mass. The rest spills outward, overflowing from my hands.

"God, I've never seen my nipples that big before," Jessica says, staring down at them from above.

It occurs to me that I've never felt my cock so tightly wrapped before. It has been trapped down one leg of my shorts beneath the water this whole time, and now feels like it has doubled in size. One of Jessica's shins is pressing awkwardly against it. It is time to move.

I push myself off the seat and tumble us both into the deep pool. Our tangled legs make it difficult at first to stay above water.

"Meet me at the bottom," I say to her before taking a breath and dropping beneath the surface. I open my eyes and swim toward the drain at the bottom of the pool. A moment later she tackles my head from above with her hands and pulls my face to hers. We try to kiss, but end up laughing too hard to make it work. Our bubbles intermingle themselves on the way to the surface. Almost out of air, we both kick our way to the top together.

She wipes the water from her eyes as we bob amidst the clear pool with our faces only inches apart. Neither of us says a word for a moment. Then she wraps her legs around my waist and places her hands atop my shoulders, forcing me to tread water more vigorously to keep us both afloat.

"I want you to spend the night," she says.

"I think it would be rude not to," I reply with a grin. She rolls her eyes and pushes away from me.

She floats in the water a few feet from me for a moment and then says, "We should go inside."

She rolls onto her stomach and dives beneath the water, heading for the shallow end. I slowly paddle behind her, collecting her discarded tank top along the way, and watch enthusiastically as she climbs the steps out of the pool. Her narrow round bottom jiggles enticingly beneath her wet bikini as she walks back to her deck chair and picks up a towel.

Fortunately my hard-on subsides somewhat while I swim across the long pool. I am hoping it does not make itself too obvious beneath the leg of my shorts as I climb out. I don't want to scare her off. Luckily she does not turn around.

Jessica finishes drying her legs, then secures the big towel around her naked chest and discretely peels off her bikini bottoms off from beneath it. She tosses another towel to me with a grin, and says: "Leave your shorts out here. They'll dry in no time."

She takes the wet tank top from my hand and spreads it out on the cushion of the nearest chair next to her bikini. I towel myself dry while she empties the pitcher of margaritas into our two glasses.

"Bring your drink, okay?" she says before and walking off toward the house.

Once she is out of sight, I hook my thumbs under my waistband and drag my soaked shorts down to my feet. I sigh with relief as my cock is finally released from its uncomfortable confinement. I wrap the towel securely around my waist, grab my drink and then head inside.

"I'm upstairs," I hear her say distantly as I cross the living room toward the middle of the house. I climb the carpeted staircase and wander down a hall, following the roaring sound of a hairdryer.

The door to Jessica's room is wide open. I take a seat in a little upholstered swivel-chair in front of what looks like an antique c***dren's desk and sip my drink. There is nowhere else to sit other than her bed. As the seconds pass, I feel a little uncomfortable waiting for her in nothing but a towel. Before I can leave to fetch my boxers from the other room, the hairdryer stops and Jessica opens her bathroom door.

She is still wearing her towel too. She walks straight across the room and stops at my feet. She sets her drink down on the little desk next to mine, and then unbinds the towel from around her chest. It falls to the floor, leaving her suddenly naked. Before I can react, she climbs into my lap and straddles my waist. She presses her mouth onto mine in a wet kiss.

My hands run rampant over her body, grabbing and squeezing her everywhere as we kiss. I feel my cock swelling furiously beneath my towel. Her hands claw at my shoulders, arms and chest. Her mouth waters profusely into mine as our tongues re-join their tangled game.

I slip one hand down between her naked thighs and trace my fingers across her waxed pussy. It is silky and warm. When I fondle her clit, she tenses and lets out a little whimper. I wrap my other arm around her waist and pull her close while I slip my middle finger up into her. She feels tight and very wet inside. I press my palm against her clit, holding my finger deep within her, and grind my hand in circles -- matching the rhythm of our kissing. This appears to drive her crazy in no time at all.

She breaks her mouth away from mine, her breath already panting, and then reaches down to push my hand away from her crotch. "Wait," she says. "I want to get you naked."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah..." She digs two fingers under the waist of my towel and adds with a giant smile: "I want you to show me something."

"What do you want me to show you?" I grin.

She pauses for a long moment and withdraws her hand slightly. Her face gets serious, and she says: "Well, what I really want you to show me is... is how to give a really deep blowjob."

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. White stars swirl across my field of vision.

"I want," she continues, bringing her mouth to my ear and dropping her voice to a whisper. "I want you to teach me how to deep-throat... for real this time."

I feel a tingle within my balls. My entire groin pulses beneath the towel.

"Um... Okay," I say.

"I'm serious," she continues, leaning back and locking me in her gaze. "And I don't want you to lie, okay? 'Cause I don't know how. You have to teach me ...I want to know how to do a perfect blowjob."

Words fail me. I scan the beautiful young woman perched on my lap, unable to believe my luck.

She scoots backwards, slides off my thighs and down to the carpet. Still staring into my eyes, she asks: "Deal?"

"I'll, um, teach you whatever you want," I reply, "but first you should probably take a look at what's under this towel."

"I know. I can't wait!"

"Because you might decide to reconsider the whole deep-throat idea."

"Why?"

"Well... it just so happens that I have a... an unusually large cock."

Her eyes drop to my towel. "Really?! Now I can't wait."

"I mean really unusual."

Her smile widens and she looks up at me. "Show me. Show me!"

I rise out of the little chair and stand in front of her. I grab the waist of my towel and slide one hand beneath it to bring my hard cock around to an upright position. I leave my hand there beneath the towel, holding the head of my cock against my abdomen.

"Before you unwrap this," I tell her, "there are a couple of things you need to learn."

"Okay," she says. She sits her bottom down on her heels and rests her hands onto the tops of her thighs. She tilts her head back, looking up attentively.

"The first thing is that eighty percent of what makes a blowjob great is psychological."

"Come on."

"It is. It's all about sending the guy the right messages while you're doing it, and that starts with posture."

"My posture?"

"Yes. You always want to be giving head from below the guy. Since I'm standing, you want to be kneeling with your butt on the floor. You eyes should be no higher than my cock."

"Okay," she says, moving her heels apart so that her butt drops down to the carpet.

"If I was lying on a bed, you'd do the same thing: make sure your mouth is approaching from below, so that my cock is angled downward the whole time."

"Why?"

"Lots of reasons: it feels better, it lets me watch your pretty face and it makes it easier for you to open your throat. Also, there is a psychological element."

"Which part is psychological?"

"You want to do everything you can to convey a certain kind of submissive enthusiasm. That's the key to a great blowjob."

"Submissive?"

"Yes. Submissive enthusiasm. Everything you do should reinforce that. Guys are very visual, so use your body to send that message in every way you can. Anything you do should reinforce that you are submissive and eager to do whatever makes him feel good."

"Should I, like, tell him that?"

"Well, you don't want to sound fake, or too aggressive. You should mostly concentrate on showing it rather than saying it."

"Like how?"

"For starters, use your eyes. Either look at me or at my cock. Nowhere else. Show how focused you are on making it feel good. And let me lead, okay? A great blowjob is not only something you do to me... it is more something I do to you. Your job is to invite it to happen and enjoy it. Also...you need to show me that you'd let me take you wherever I want. So, if you were wearing panties, you'd need to roll them down to your knees."

"Why?"

"Think about it. It sends me the message that, if I wanted to, at any time I could stop and fuck you instead."

"Oh my God. Wow."

"That's what I mean by submissive enthusiasm. You get it?"

She nods slightly, clearly still shocked by that assertion.

"So...Are you ready?"

There is a pause as she glances from my face to the towel and back up again. "I think so."

"Then show me. Show me how much your mouth wants it."

Jessica lowers her stare to my towel again and slowly opens her mouth. She licks her lips once and then looks up at me. "Like that?"

"Yes. Open wide and cover your bottom teeth with your tongue. Invite me in."

She tilts her head back with her lips apart. I can see her pink tongue covering her lower teeth. She waits like this, staring up at me with her sweet blue eyes. I feel the head of my cock throb beneath my hand.

"Now un-wrap my towel," I say, "... slowly."

Keeping her mouth open, she reaches up with both hands and works the towel loose. It drops to the floor and -- even though the upper half of my cock is still hidden by my hand -- Jessica gasps at the sight of me. Her plump, blush-colored lips contract into a round "O" of surprise.

"Oh... my... God," she whispers, alternately eyeing the volume of my ball-sack and the girth of my shaft. Her mouth slowly reopens, looking tiny now as it waits six inches from my scrotum. Then her eyes lift their focus to the back of my hand.

I release my cock. It swings down heavily and bounces against her forehead.

"Oh!" she gasps, taken aback by my length. The shaft of my cock bobs in the air above her like a nine-inch long corn cob.

"Shhh," I whisper, "Just open your mouth."

The engorged mushroom-cap of my circumcised head hovers in front of her wide-set eyes, so thick that she cannot see around it. She strains to focus on this shocking object so close above her.

"Open your mouth, Jessica," I urge her.

Gradually, almost reluctantly, her mouth opens. Her tongue re-appears, still glossy with spit, but her jaw is trembling now. I reach down and place one hand behind her head.

Start at the base of my cock," I tell her, "near my balls, and give it a long lick all the way to the top."

She glances up. My cock obscures nearly half her face from view, but she states the obvious: "You are huge."

I pull her head toward me, angling it so that her mouth lands at the base of my shaft. I feel the warm and moist touch of her tongue and lips against my skin. She flicks her tongue tentatively against me within the circle of her mouth.

"Lick all the way to the top," I repeat.

She slowly draws back, sliding her wet tongue along the underside of my cock. When she reaches the head she stops and places a lingering kiss there.

"Now do it again from the other side," I tell her.

She turns her head the other way and ducks forward to repeat her long lick. When she finishes, I gather her long hair into a pony tail behind her head with both my hands.

"Open," I tell her.

She looks up at me again and tilts her head back, opening wide enough to show me the back of her throat. I aim my cock at her mouth and gently pull her toward it.

My fat, swollen head squeezes past her lips, stretching her jaw to its limit. She lets out a muffled sound as if someone had just stuffed an entire cupcake into her mouth.

"Now suck," I instruct her from above. "And use your tongue as much as you can."

Her cheeks dent inward and I feel her little tongue swish delightfully from side to side under the head of my cock. A tingle rises within my balls. I withdraw slightly until the top ridge of my mushroom-head slips out from her upper lip. Then I gently thrust forward, easing the head and first inch of my shaft back into her mouth. I feel it bounce against her palette and she emits a muffled grunt. She is very snug.

"Show me how much you love it," I say. "Show me that your mouth is for me."

I pull back and then push into her again. Her mouth makes a wet squishy sound as my cock pokes the top of her throat. I repeat the motion again... and then again... and again. Jessica's eyes start to moisten; their corners filling reflexively with tears. Looking down at her pretty face, I recognize how unfairly matched she is against my wide cock. Only the first couple inches of my length have made it past her lips. The vast majority remains in front of her. She looks as though she were trying to swallow a baseball bat.

I hold her head firmly and continue my slow thrusting. She starts whimpering, struggling to breathe through her petite nose while my cock blocks her mouth.

On the next stroke I pull her head harder onto my cock. She coughs, launching spit out from her stretched lips. I hold her there with my cock lodged against the soft pocket at the back of her mouth, until a tear slides down her upturned cheek. I pull back enough so she can inhale once, then immediately press my cock back into her.

"Nnnngk!" she complains involuntarily as I bounce against the back of her throat. I repeat the motion; out and then back in.

"Nnnngk!" she repeats.

I do that three more times in rapid succession. A long thread of drool descends from her lower lip and I feel her mouth flooding with new saliva. I stop, move one hand to the base of my cock and withdraw it completely from her mouth.

"Look at my cock," I tell her.

She opens her teary eyes, breathing fast through her suddenly vacant mouth. I turn sideways so she can see the full length of my shaft in profile.

"Look at it," I repeat. "You see how it's only wet around the top? That's because none of the rest of it is in your mouth yet."

"I know."

"I thought you wanted to give me a perfect blowjob?"

"I do! It's just too big. I... I didn't think it would be this hard," she whines.

"You're scared. That's why your throat muscles are so tight. I know you're normally a very confident girl, but in this situation you need to surrender to it, okay? Then it will be easier."

"I can't. I think you're too big."

"Yes you can. Remember after your exam you told me be how you just gave up control and let me do those things to you?"

"Yeah."

"That's what you need to do right now."

"But I'm too small!"

"Yes. And I like that. It makes me want to get into your throat even more."

Her eyes are transfixed on the profile of my wobbling shaft, unaware that it is not even fully engorged yet.

"You want me back in your mouth, don't you?" I taunt her.

"Yeah," she whispers.

I let go of my cock and turn my hips. My cock swings toward her, bumping against her lips. She leans back and stares at it. Carefully, she reaches up and takes hold of the base with one hand. Her fingers are barely able to encircle its girth. She slowly slides her hand up and down its length.

"There's no way I can do this," she whispers.

"Yes there is," I tell her. "Now use that little hand of yours to tickle my balls, okay?"

She glances up at me and she moves her hand to my dangling sack. Tentatively she begins to fondle the large testicles floating inside.

"That's nice." I encourage her. "Now open wide and pull me back into your mouth while you do that. And let all that saliva pool in your mouth. That turns me on."

"Okay."

She cups her hand around my balls and pulls them softly toward her, catching the tip of my cock between her lips as she does. I relax for a moment and let her nurse on my head at her own pace while her fingers lightly tickle my balls. The combination feels wonderful and after a few minutes my cock begins to throb again, gradually hardening those last few elusive degrees. She notices the increased swelling within her mouth and lifts her eyes to mine with a mumbled giggle. She pulls her drooling lips off my cock and asks: "You like that?"

"Yes, I do" I grin down at her. "But it's time to open your little throat now."

"Yeah... I know."

"Are you going to try harder this time?"

"Yes."

"How are you going to try harder?"

She gazes at the head of my cock and traces her fingers along the length of my shaft, pausing to give it a squeeze. "I'm going to relax my throat?"

"Yes. It needs to stretch out a little for me, doesn't it?"

"It needs to stretch a lot."

"That's right. Take me back into your mouth now... and start working on that."

She drops her jaw and wraps her pretty lips around my head. I feel her tongue working with renewed energy, swirling on the sensitive spot beneath the tip of my cock. She keeps one hand wrapped around the base of my shaft and brings her other hand up to tickle my balls. When she starts to bob her head forward, banging my cock against the narrow opening of her throat, I almost lose my balance. The combination of sensations is marvelous. My balls buzz with pleasure. I sense the first drops of my pre-cum working their way up from within.

I slide my hands to the back of her head again and start thrusting my hips toward her mouth. I recline her face slightly so that, at the bottom of each stroke, my cock pressures the soft tissue at the very back of her mouth. I know that soft spot is the gateway to her throat. I press myself a little harder into it each time. Over and over I hit that spot.

Still my cock is only about three inches into her mouth, but it feels wonderful. She murmurs something unintelligible and a wet clicking sound starts within her mouth on every stroke. She is struggling. Her breathing is uneven. She forgets about her hands and they slip down, absentmindedly clutching my thighs. I pick up my tempo, bouncing the end of my cock against her throat more and more firmly. Her saliva becomes so frothed that bubbles start to appear at the corners of her mouth. They multiply with each downward beat of my shaft, spilling outward from her lips. I reach one hand down to grab her right breast, tugging and squeezing it as I pump her mouth. Strings of drool swing from her chin. The repetitive stroking of her squashed tongue triggers a wave of pleasure that surges the length of my cock. A few thrusts later I feel a squirt of pre-cum launch from me.

Immediately she coughs hard, twisting her head to one side to free her mouth of my cock.

"Oh my God," she says between gasps of air, "Did you just cum in my mouth?"

"A little bit," I answer, staring down at her from above.

"It went right down my throat!"

"Good. You ready for more?"

She wipes her glistening lips and stares at my cock. "How far was it in that time?"

"No more than your first try, but your throat is softening... you just need to let it open."

She stares at my dripping cock, and then tentatively encircles its girth with one hand: "Jesus. You're so swollen... no wonder it feels like my jaw is breaking. I think... I think this isn't going to happen unless you just do it."

"Do what?"

"I can't make myself open up like that on purpose. I was trying. I think you just need to push it through. After that, I think I'll be able to do it myself."

"You sure?"

"I think so. I wanna try."

She returns her lips briefly to the tip of my slippery cock. When I place my hands behind her head, she hesitates and tries to add: "Be gent-," but I cut her off, clogging her mouth hard and fast.

"Nnnngk... Nnnngk... Nnnngk!" she protests as I repeatedly thrust into her. I lower my hands further down to her neck, angling her face toward the ceiling, and step closer, standing astride her folded legs so that my cock points straight down at her throat. I start thrusting my hips above her face, driving my cock into her mouth like a plunger. Her hands grip my inner thighs, trying in vain to limit my penetrations.

Gradually, her throat begins to submit. I feel my head stretching a ring of muscles at the back of her mouth a little wider each time. Jessica is arched beneath me now, her body totally focused on absorbing my cock. I cradle her head in my hands and saw up and down within her mouth. Eventually, after dozens of hard strokes, I completely withdraw my cock and look down at her. Her jaw hangs slack -- mouth wide open and full of spit. Her tongue is out, blanketing her bottom teeth and dripping, waiting for me to return. Her eyes are closed. She is ready.

I slide the head of my cock back into her mouth and push it toward her throat once more. But this time, I don't relent. I press the weight of my pelvis down toward her face.

It feels like my cock it being squeezed through a wedding ring. The circle of muscles protecting her throat widens exquisitely slowly, exciting every nerve within my cock-head. I keep applying downward pressure, and watch as my shaft creeps past her quivering lips.

Jessica makes a final, panicky sound as the widest circumference of my head starts to pass through that little muscular ring. Suddenly my head pops through and surges down into her throat.

"Fuck!" I cry out loud. It feels so good my eyes roll back in my head. My toes curl into the carpet and I can't help but toss my neck back and let out a guttural groan.

My shaft spears smoothly past her lips. Her throat muscles start to gag immediately around my dick, milking it like some kind of crazy pleasure-machine. The deeper my head goes the greater friction I enjoy. I lose all presence of mind and just hold myself there, deep in her throat, rocking my groin into her face at the tempo of her reflexive gagging. Waves of pleasure ascend the length of my shaft and pulse within my balls. The compressed head of my cock beats inside her like a new heart.

Time passes, unnoticed.

When I eventually come to my senses, I look down. Jessica's pretty little face is stretched wide and tight around my cock like a pin-cushion impaled on a railroad spike. Her eyes are tight shut and her hands are flapping against my legs desperately signaling for air. I release her neck and watch her yank backwards off my fat cock with a loud, suction-breaking, "gul-OCK!"

She rolls to one side and coughs violently. A huge glob of white phlegm spatters onto the floor. She takes a couple deep breaths, and mumbles something about the taste of her margarita.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," she answers hoarsely. Then she straightens back up and looks up at me with a concerned expression: "Did you forget about me?"

"I guess I did It felt so good... I lost track."

She lifts a hand to my balls and strokes them with her fingernails. "Well, just remember I need to breathe every once in a while, ok?" Then she grins, finishing with: "I'm glad you like it."

"You want to take a break?"

"No. I want to do it again. Don't you want to cum?"

"Oh, God yes!"

"Good."

She brushes away a strand of her hair from her sticky cheeks, and then nuzzles up to the underside of my cock. She gives it a couple of long licks and then leans back beneath me, resting one hand on the floor behind her.

She reaches her other hand down between her legs and begins to rub her clit while she stares at my thick cock.

"Just remember to let me breathe, okay?" she asks.

I take a half step forward and bump her chin with my cock. She giggles and then opens her mouth to catch the wobbling tip. I bring my other foot forward and return both hands to the back of her head. Her tongue begins its dance as my cock fills her mouth to the brim. It feels like pre-cum is dribbling steadily from me now. The inside of her mouth is unbelievably slippery and hot.

She starts to whine almost as soon as I thrust gently into her. I can see her hand working busily in her crotch, and the moaning vibrations of her vocal chords become a new source of stimulation for me.

I feel my excitement building. I can't wait to get back into her throat. I pull her toward me and lodge my head back into that awesome ring of muscles atop her throat. With less effort than the first time, they open and stretch. The mushroom head of my cock pops suddenly inward and I am into her throat again, purposefully driving half my length down into her. The gagging starts immediately. I ease back a little and then drive home another three inches of my cock, leaving only about two more outside her lips. I feel a rush of warm fluid soak my cock and fill her mouth.

I withdraw my cock far enough for the head to pop back into her mouth with a wet "Nnglick." Frothy juice pours from her lips and falls to her tits and crotch. She inhales a raspy breath around the girth of my head. I wait a moment until her tongue starts to flutter beneath me again, then I push forward hard, holding her head still as I squeeze the fatness of my cock into her narrow throat once more. A wet squishing sound is the only thing I hear. My shaft disappears between her lips in a long, slow slide. It stops with about an inch remaining to go, so I pull her even harder up under me and cram that last inch into her until my balls touch her neck. Then I rock back and forth within her as she gags. The undulating rhythm of contractions within her throat sends electric jolts of joy through my whole nervous system.

I pull all the way out and let her breathe. Then I reinsert my cock with a vengeance. I make several long strokes within her, each time withdrawing my head to the very top of her throat before plunging it down again. After three strokes I pull all the way out of her mouth, dragging stands of saliva out from within her.

"Are your breathing enough?" I ask.

"M-hm," she nods.

"Can you take more than three?"

Drool spills from her mouth as she says, "I think so."

"Let's try four."

She nods quickly again and takes a deep breath as I push my cock through her parted lips. I cannot believe how much drool is pouring out of her mouth. Each time I fill her with my cock, another wave of wetness seems to saturate her palette.

I press myself into her tight throat, working my cock down to its full depth. Then I withdraw smoothly until only my head remains within the ring of muscles atop her throat. They cinch like a tight collar around the neck of my cock. Then I push back down again -- achieving full insertion of my thick shaft. Then out. Then in. I count four repetitions and then withdraw completely so she can breathe.

I let her heave-in one gasp of air before I penetrate her again. I relish another four long strokes, pausing at the deepest point to savor the milking pulsations of her gagging throat.

After the fourth stroke I let her breathe a bit more, and ask: "Five?"

Her pupils are totally dilated. Her eyes are awash with tears. But her hand still flutters down by her pussy. Wordlessly, she nods.

I squeeze my cock all the way back into her and deliver five exquisitely slow strokes.

Then I wait a heartbeat with my head occupying her mouth, allowing her one quick breath before punishing her slippery throat with five more deep strokes, pausing at the deepest point of each to savor the sensation.

My grip on her head tightens reflexively as the pleasure builds within me. I pause, up in her mouth again, as she gasps for air. Then I give her five more deep strokes. After another breath, five more. Then another breath and another five. Breath. Five more. Breath. Five more. And so on, until she starts to lose color in her cheeks.

I pause and let her catch up. When the pink returns to her face, I recommence my intrusions. I accelerate my tempo, trading duration for an increase in speed and number. At first I only add one more stroke to each set, incrementing my count to six....but soon, to be honest, I stop counting altogether. I pump my cock down her throat over and over and over in long bursts, living out a dark urge I have within me. The desperate way she sucks for air whenever I give her a chance tells me I am often holding her down upon my thrusting cock, gagging her deeply, for way too long.

And yet somehow, despite the assault I am committing upon her throat, she seems to be approaching a climax. I notice the furrows in her brow deepen, and high-pitched little moans find their way out between the attacks of my cock. Both her hands now work at her crotch, no doubt using the waterfall of drool that continues to land there as a supplement to her own lubrication.

My own orgasm feels like it has been building within me for a week -- ever since Jessica first stepped out from behind the privacy-curtain in my exam room. Now that I am here, in her house, with my penis lodged all the way down her throat and the taste of my pre-cum already upon her young palette, I finally begin to crest the wave that has been approaching for so long. I revel in the thought of injecting an entire week's worth of my semen into her.

As I deliver another series of frenzied thrusts within her little throat, I feel it start within my balls. They tighten and rise, colliding now with her chin instead of her neck each time I bottom-out against her face. From somewhere deep inside, my body finds more blood-pressure with which to engorge my cock and it gains a final, ridiculous degree of firmness.

After another set of delirium-inducing strokes, I pull out and see my cock stand almost upright, bouncing to the beat of my heart above her streaming face.

"I'm going to cum in your throat," I whisper down to her.

"Fuck yes," she moans, blurring her hand against her clit and nodding her head. She adds the word "Please...," which unintentionally inflates a large bubble of spit between her lips. Her eyes remain closed. Her wet mouth is open, searching blindly for my cock.

I use one hand to stroke myself above her. A thick, pearly drop of pre-cum falls from my cock, popping her bubble of spit and landing on her tongue just before I plug her mouth with my fat head. I feel more pre-um leak from me as she begins to suck.

"Mmm... nnn... NNN!" she moans, visibly approaching climax. She starts to bounce a little, and brings one hand up to give her left nipple a hard squeeze. I reach down to her other tit and caress its incredible contour in synch with her rapid moans.

I hold back my own orgasm, only intermittently allowing myself to dip into her throat, waiting instead for her to reach her peak. She works on the head of my cock like a washing-machine; swirling, sucking, bobbing and vibrating as I loiter in her mouth. She moans and pants against me, her little kneeling body arching and twitching with excitement. As her noise-level rises, I feel her push against my length, asking for her throat to be penetrated once more. Naturally I oblige, and use her gagging throat to bring myself to the very brink of release.

When she finally peaks I ease back from her throat and into her mouth, allowing her muffled screams to vibrate around the head of my cock. The sound of her climax and soft feel of her breast in my hand tip the dominos within me and I cascade irreversibly forward to an epic explosion.

I pull her head to me and thrust, plunging my full length back into her throat. I use both hands to grip her head and yank her face back and forth on my cock as her whole body quakes with orgasm. Over and over I piston her vibrating throat as rapidly as I can, each time slapping my balls against her chin and then pulling all the way out to her lips before plunging fully back in again. With each brutal penetration her mouth makes a wet "squiksh" sound. With each extraction her throat's tight suction makes a loud: "thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

Semen rockets up from my balls. Involuntarily I shut my eyes and throw back my head. The focus of my entire existence narrows to a set of pumping contractions within my loins. Cum leaps from me like a fountain.

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh, thik-OCK!"

"Squiksh."

I stay buried in her, feeling squirt after squirt of my semen gush into her throat.

"thik-OCK!"

I deposit a milky flood into her mouth. Then, with a very wet-sounding "squiksh," I pack my shaft back into her throat, causing white foamy cum to overflow from her lips.

Another two pulses of my semen pump into her throat.

I pull back more gently this time, resulting in a softer, "n-glick" sound as she burps cum up into her mouth. Semen continues to pour from me, into her mouth now, but less forcefully. I linger there making little thrusts, draining my balls onto the back of her tongue while her congested little nose draws desperately for air. Her humming moans slowly taper off as her climax subsides. Eventually I raise one hand to the shaft of my cock and remove myself comp