Individual Studies [mf] [mast] [voy]

Cory had signed up for an individualized study course at the local junior college. Supervised by admissions counselors, participants completed studies at their leisure, and reported on their progress periodically. This week was check-in & he’d have to wait in a conference room until he could be visited by Ms. Logan to discuss his progress.

He remembered the way she walked into the conference room the day he selected his topic. The skirt she wore bounced just slightly as she walked through the door, showing where her thigh-high hose ended and her tan skin began. He was all but certain that she hadn’t worn a thong that day. At least that’s how he thought of it. Often.

The conference rooms were one floor above the offices, around a large atrium in the services building. He chose the corner room, from which he could see her office. He turned the blinds to angle down, and sat down at a table near the window over-looking the administrative offices. He was early enough. And he couldn’t get those long legs out of his mind.

Jens office was lit by a single desk lamp. He could see her through her upturned blinds. She was sitting back in her chair reading. Her legs extended out to the corner of her desk. Her auburn hair usually ended between her shoulder blades, but today it was up, just a lock or so framing her face. Cory adjusted himself in the chair, his waistline tightening as his gaze followed her neck line to where her pearl colored blouse parted. The curve of her cleavage excited him. He imagined what lie beneath.

She was a smart dresser, and liked to show off her runner’s legs it seemed. Today was no exception. She wore sling back shoes that pointed to her ankles and directed his eyes back to her lean, muscular calves. Cory like how her ankles crossed while her legs were outstretched to the corner of her desk. The blinds did little to hide the slit in the side of her skirt that end well into her thigh.

He couldn’t stop himself. Stretching to see her a bit more, he felt the tip of his manhood brush the edge of his belt line. The friction prompted an erection that gave him little reason to fight his urge. He unzipped his pants, reached in, and placed his hand on his shaft.

He felt good. He looked intently down on Jen’s office. He imagined she knew he was there, as she reached for her shoe to “adjust” the buckle. Slowly running her hand back up her leg as she sat back again. He could swear her skirt slid up a bit when her hand went by the slit. He had noticed a small red tattoo on the outside of her right thigh, only given away by her stretch.

She looked his direction, and he pulled back from the window, hoping he hadn’t been caught.

Cory felt his member harden again. It was not going to go away, especially since he had touched it. He felt it pulse with his heartbeat, his pre-cum wet the elastic of his boxers, his testicles moving within. He began to massage his penis. Slowly at first, then with more determination as her hand raised to her collarbone.

She placed her hand on her chest and he began to really feel the ache. She uncrossed her legs, pausing almost deliberately in mid move to show her lightly colored lacy underwear. Her other leg followed, crossing at the knee as she leaned forward in her chair to loosen her heels. She slipped them off before standing and closing her door. Three of her four blinds snapped shut. Those he could see through remained. In his excitement he never lost stroke.

Jen came back into view, now with her blouse open and flowing. She wore a black trimmed pale blue bra that made her tan body look even darker. Her stomach was flat, adorned by a small stone that glinted in the light. Another tattoo was visible at her waist line. She reached to her back and her skirt loosened. As it dropped, Cory felt an urge to blow. He stopped his motion, hoping to see more.

He watched as Jen slid her skirt to the floor, fully showing her tautly drawn body. Her thong matched her bra, lacy, with black trim. It plainly showed the length of her tattoo from her waistline to mid-thigh. As she turned to pick up her skirt, she bent over, showing her shapeliness. The strap from her thong rode up between her lips. He could see her legs muscles tense.

She sat down and and looked up to the conference room window. An alluring grin on her face, she unsnapped he front clasp of her bra, allowing her breasts to sink down. She waved, moving her hands down her body as she positioned her legs for the show.

Cory watched as Jen ran her hands from her hips to her knees and back to her wet pouty lips. She slid her thong to the side as she rubbed her clitoris, inserting a finger on the the down stroke to increase the tease. She looked up at the conference room. Cory had stood up, hand in his pants. She began bucking her hips. Her breasts swayed with the rhythm of her motion.

Cory’s erection soon returned. Harder than the last. He reached for it to tug, pull, and squeeze in time with her. Her knees raised up, toes tightening together. Her arms moved under her knees, eyes locked on the conference room. Her rub had changed to straight finger fucking. One hand groped a breast, the other forced three, then four fingers inside of her. She was close.

Cory couldn’t contain himself. His hard-on felt like it would come right out of his skin. His every rub, yank, twist, and squeeze gave him reason to pop, but his body delayed the satisfaction. Cory watched as Jen shuddered uncontrollably in the chair, her toes clenched. A small stream of excitement sprayed the leather and carpet. Her smile matched his as he finally shot his second milky rope across the floor.

At last, his reporting was complete.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/7n6o7d/individual_studies_mf_mast_voy