She soared above the crowd, aloof and superior, being both an honor student and popular. She maintained her position by needing nothing from anyone. Blonde, slender, with well-defined muscles and compact handfuls of breast, she glided through the misery of high school like it would never touch her. Now in her senior year, being eighteen and free, she was at the height of her powers. As her college coach, I should’ve known better, but I got flirty over an afternoon of planning her essays.
I’m just past age twenty at the time, floating between going to college and finding a cabin in the woods, with a fetish for breeding. In fact, seeding top-quality women was my only turn on. Everything else left me as limp as a garden hose in the sun, although because of my dirty blonde hair, semi-muscular physique, average but thick penis, and easy-going air, I had no shortage of offers if I was willing to put in the effort to get them (spoiler: I wasn’t). I didn’t mean to turn her, but I told her how much of a joy it was to coach someone so quick-witted, and complimented her on her hair and dress a few times. So sue me, I’m male and proud.
It was when we were working on the second Harvard essay that she cracked. “I just can’t do this,” she said.
“You’ve got it already,” I said. “Your idea was great and this will be a crusher of an essay.”
She pouted. It was adorable. “No, I mean Harvard. I’ve done school, and I was good at it. I want something else in my life.”
“I can offer you babies of top quintile intelligence,” I said, and it was on. She was wearing a demure autumn dress, plaid with pleats, over a white shirt, and I knew under it that she must be wearing some formidable knickers to keep the cold out. Her mouth met mine and our tongues danced like martial artists before I pulled her into the storage closet next to the room where we met. She pushed me against the wall and I locked my mouth on hers, tasting her energy and excitement as my fingers brushed against her moist and tingling sex. I heaved her onto a half-size filing cabinet and pushed my face toward her warmth, pulling her granny-style cotton panties down her legs and tossing them aside. She moaned and twisted my hair as I worked on her, teasing and probing, bringing her close to the edge. I could feel her dilate as her warmth radiated toward me.
As I stepped back, her fingers were at my fly, and soon my pants and underwear fell to the floor and my sword of impregnation waved in her face.
“Can I touch it?”
“You own it,” I gasped, as her lithe fingers stroked me, feeling the veins and pulsing shaft. She tasted it briefly, then kissed along its length, her hands freeing her of dress, shirt, and then the sports bra I figured she might have under that getup. My hands sought her small breasts, although they were the right size for me, as she enveloped all of me in the fire of her mouth, any resistance melting as my girth and turgidity increased. She came up for air and I kissed her again, then leaned her backwards and moved my stiffened member in gentle circles around her clitoris. I felt her hands on my back as her legs locked behind me.
“My parents will disown me,” she gasped. Two years ago I would have stopped like a good beta, apologized, and asked her twenty neurotic questions about whether or not she wanted to continue. That’s what good guys do. I, however, am pure beast, and so I muttered something like, “That’s their problem,” and then plunged right into her radiant center, slowly withdrawing and repeating the thrust until I had worked myself to her cervical gateway. She growled, a full on feral sound, and we began to fuck like animals, pure Discovery Channel raw natural lust exploding between us.
After a few minutes she began making mewling sounds, then more of those guttural atavistic noises, then a cry like a song, and I knew her peak was approaching. I picked up the pace and began to hammer into her, not carelessly, but with a desire to match her passion, as I felt her lock her ankles behind my back. She looked at me once, her light eyes radiant, and then kissed me as I began the final approach, now moving quickly with a primal howl of my own escaping my throat.
Suddenly she threw back her head, called out my name, and I felt her muscular tunnel pulse around me. Thrusting myself into final position, my tip probing her cervix, I thrashed my hips forward in a frenetic rhythm as she moaned and pulled me toward her. Finally, the light went out of the room and then burst back into my eyes, bright stars shooting across my gaze, as I unloaded all my hopes and lust deep into her. She sighed and pulled me toward her, running her hands through my hair and kissing me. Softening I fell from her, and she whipped up her panties and put them on, sealing my seed within her.
After a few minutes of petting and kissing each other, she broke free and began to put her clothes on. “I’ve got to get home,” she said.
“What should I do about this essay?” I asked.
“Oh, screw *that*,” she said, laughing. I never saw her again but I hear she lives in the country with a pair of twins, both as frightening independent and intelligent as she is.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/9t27d9/relishing_an_honor_student_mf