[M/F] All grown up…

“The fact is,” Marisol was saying. “A big reason I came to this school is because I knew you were here…”

I laughed, swirling my coffee. “That means a lot to me.”

Autumn. The perfectly manicured East Coast campus was just starting to turn golden with the chilling weather. Marisol was eighteen, and a gorgeous little waif of a girl: wavy hair that naturally seemed to move between black and light brown; dark, quick eyes; and dusky skin. She wore a short skirt that showed off the goosebumps on her dark legs, and a thick, woven sweater.

I had tutored her as a kid: it was one of those *Freedom Writers*-type stories. I volunteered to teach creative writing at a mediocre inner city school, to a group of spectacular eleven-year-olds. The smartest, the funniest, and the most charming, though, had been Marisol–she practically had a novel written by the end of the year! At eleven!

I kept in touch with her and her family–not really even her family, but her grandmother, with whom I communicated in broken Spanish, with Marisol’s help–for a few years until I moved away. I went to graduate school, got married, lost my wife, and got a job teaching literature and writing at a major, prestigious university. A lot had changed.

“Yeah, it was incredible,” Marisol beamed. “I was looking at the course catalog and I saw your name–and then I went on the website and there you were! I told abuela that this is where I was going–fuck Harvard, fuck Yale, fuck Stanford–”

She covered her mouth with a quick smile. I waved away her profanity.

“We’re just as good as them. I’m glad you’re here. You’ll have to take my class in the spring–”

“Actually, I had a question about that. Just a theoretical question.”

“What’s that?”

She smiled, started giggling. “No, no, I can’t. Nevermind.”

I knit my brows. “What?”

Finally, she sighed, dramatically. “God, isn’t it obvious?”

No, it wasn’t.

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was a kid. I can’t take your class. I’d go to pieces every single day. I can’t let you read anything I’ve written.”

I sat back in my chair.

“I don’t know what to say–”

“You don’t need to say anything. I know it’s dumb. Maybe I’ll grow up a little bit by then and I–I won’t be weird about it.”

I looked her over. It was at that moment that it dawned on me: she wasn’t a kid anymore.

“That’s fine. It’s probably best that you don’t take my class.” I let that sink in. “After all, I can’t sleep with my students.”

Her eyes widened. And then, she broke into an easy grin.

“You sound like a real–god, I don’t know–predator–when you talk like that.”

“But, Marisol, I know you’re not dumb enough to be *predated*. I know if you didn’t like what I just said–you’d have already thrown your coffee in my face and stormed out of here. And I’d already be out of a job.”

She bit her lip.

“That’s right. I guess your career is in my hands.”

“I’m at your mercy.”

She was practically shaking with giddiness.

“Can we… Can we go to your office?”

“I think we’d better.”

~

It didn’t look strange at all as I ushered Marisol into the Comparative Literature Department. I was just meeting with a student. Such things happened every day. I saw my older colleagues–much older, actually–with girls Marisol’s age every day. And now I was starting to wonder…

Inside my office, Marisol looked around as I locked the door behind us.

“God, you should really clean up in here…” she scowled. I remembered her as a pre-teen: absolutely a Type-A personality, with perfect handwriting and an intensively organized backpack. The stacks and piles of books, journals, and papers that I stored in my obvious must have damn near given her a panic attack.

“This is how I work best,” I said in defense, shrugging my shoulders. Marisol pressed close to me. The warmth of her little body–my cock seemed to turn into steel almost immediately.

“In squalor?” she said softly. “You should let me come organize it for you.”

Her voice had dropped to a whisper as I lowered my face to hers, and kissed her, tasting her lips, her strawberry flavored lip gloss, all for the first time.

“I couldn’t make you down that,” I whispered back, kissing her again, kissing over her cheeks to her neck.

“But you can make out with a student in your office…”

“That’s right.”

I paused. I hand my hands around her waist. Her arms were around my neck. Her dark little eyes seemed to pierce into mine.

“Are you sure you want this?” I whispered, my voice hungry with lust. “This is the type of thing that messes kids up.”

“I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. I’m a grown woman. I can make my own choices,” she said, her voice hard and–dare I say?–as hungry with lust as my own. “I spent years fantasizing about you and now, I’m getting my fantasy. Whether you like it or not.”

And now, she kissed me hard, reaching down to undo my pants. I grunted as she found my cock and sank to her knees. In moments, my cock had disappeared into her mouth as she sucked me, hungrily, sloppily desperately, stopping every few minutes to gasp for air and look up at me, wordlessly stroking my wet shaft before skewering her face on it once more.

It definitely wasn’t the most skilled blow job I had ever gotten but her enthusiasm more than made up for it–as did her seeming determination to force the entire thing down her throat.

“I’m gonna’ get it…” she said, her eyes watering slightly as she pulled off my cock. Before I could tell her not to hurt herself, she forced the entire thing into her mouth once more, burying her face in my pubic hair.

A few more minutes and I was cumming into her mouth, her wet lips smacking as I finished up. She coughed and gagged a little as she pulled off my shaft, but beamed up at me.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” she said with a cute smile.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”

She stood up and pressed a salty, cum-streaked kiss to my lips.

“I need to go to class in like five minutes. But I’m going to make you eat me out for like… an hour,” she said, almost besides herself with delight. One more kiss, and she was off, leaving me to put my cock away…

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4dnllx/mf_all_grown_up

3 comments

  1. Hopefully you have a part 2 also you gotta describe her a but more is she curvy skinny buxom ass for days these are the important details .

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