Inspired by Miss Danielle
This story is fictional (unlike some confessions I post)
Setting of this story: The Majestic Hotel, Kuala Lumpur (Google it to see what their rooms look like)
Themes: College Student, Lecturer / Professor, Psychological
Reading time: Approximately 12 minutes
It’s roughly 3 pm in the afternoon on a Saturday, technically Day 2 of our little staycation. Yesterday, after my last lecture ended at about 5 pm, I drove my car to a quiet street not too far from campus to pick you up. Despite being in the same lecture earlier (you, in the audience), we planned this pickup away from the college to avoid being spotted by your classmates. They were already suspicious enough about us as-is, there was no need to feed the gossip that was already going around.
My car barely even came to a complete halt before you popped the door open and jumped in wearing that cute, girly smile you always had. The both of us were enjoying this little cloak and dagger act, and as soon as you slammed the door, I sped off towards the hotel.
Fast forward to today, and I’m laying on the bed having dozed off. I’m exhausted from all the fucking we’ve been indulging in since we checked in the evening before. I can see you soaking in the freestanding bathtub in the bathroom, right through the sliding glass door. Just as much as I enjoy glancing at you during lectures, I just love watching your fine self soak in that tub.
You look like you’re lost in your own world, watching another real estate reality show on the bathroom TV with a glass in your hand. Utterly oblivious to how your dear lecturer is admiring you from the bed, half-awake and with a sore (but gradually hardening) cock in his pants.
You and I only have until Monday morning ’til we go back to our separate lives as teacher and student. So I don’t wanna waste another moment napping, especially in the middle of the day. I force myself out of bed and straighten my clothes. With a quick splash of water on my face, I lean down and kiss you on the forehead.
“I’m going downstairs real quick to get us some coffee and snacks. Stay here”, I say to you. You smile and mumble something affirmative to me, but at that point, I wasn’t really listening anymore. I was moving light on my feet, breathing a little heavier than usual. Hiding the fact that my heart pounded as my mind synthesized ideas of what to do next.
I was out the door and rushing down to my car to grab a few things I stashed in my trunk. I kept a few of them packed away so you wouldn’t notice them in the room. Now, it was finally time to put them to use.
***
You, by yourself, are floating in and out of consciousness in that tub. You top up your champagne glass liberally, embracing the fact that we’re on a staycation where there are little or no limits. Nobody knows you’re here, let alone who you’re with, so you’re inclined to make the most of the occasion.
But then you hear the door unlock and then slam shut a moment later.
“Erasmus? Come look at this ugly-ass house on the show!” you say, your words echoing out in the room. Seconds go by, and you don’t hear an answer. “Erasmus? Oh, sorry, MISTER Erasmus!”.
Still no answer.
You can hear someone around the corner at the entryway, out of sight from the tub. The sound of footsteps on the wooden floor by the door sounds familiar. You think it’s me. You’re pretty damn sure it’s me. Who else could it be? But then why the fuck is the room still quiet?
The next thing you hear is the sound of a keycard being removed from the keycard power switch. Three seconds later, every light in the room goes out, including the TV that you were just watching. Even the air-conditioner powers down. You’re left in almost pitch-black darkness, with only tiny slivers of light coming through gaps in the shades that have been closed.
“What the hell is going on? Erasmus?”, you call out, this time with your voice slightly shaky.
You’re almost blind, but your eyes start adjusting to the darkness. You can make out a couple of shapes, but there’s no way in hell you could navigate the bathroom. Even before you can decide to climb out, you see a figure standing on the other side of the bathroom’s glass door. You think it’s me. It almost looks like me, but the silhouette is far too vague for you to be sure.
The logical, rational part of your mind knows that it’s me. There’s no one else it could be. The problem here is that the fight-or-flight side of your brain is the one that’s gradually getting louder. You know it’s me, but your eyes and ears aren’t receiving any clear confirmations to prove you right.
Sooner or later, your ‘knowing’ that it’s me degrades to you ‘thinking’ that it’s me. Whoever it is, they’re not making any fucking noises whatsoever. The creepy silence of the room and mutism of the person in front of you is becoming very unsettling.
You’re frozen in that tub. You know you can’t move fast enough to escape, let alone defend yourself. The figure slides that heavy glass door open and lets themself into the bathroom. The tap of leather shoes on those tiles hits your ear even harder than it usually would. Before you know it, the figure is standing an inch away right behind you.
Your body shrinks, almost into the foetal position. You’re scared to look up at the figure, but you notice that you can see its reflection on the dead TV. “Do they have a fucking mask on?”, you wonder, as you fail to make out any facial features whatsoever.
It feels like your soul tries to escape your body, the moment their hands touch both sides of your face. You’re frozen in fear, especially as you feel the hands gently turn your head forward to look away from them. The feeling on your cheek is unmistakable: they’ve got fucking surgical gloves on!
“What the fuck is going on?” you think to yourself, but no matter how much you try, the words never leave your mouth. Your body feels cold, and you’re a few seconds away from pissing all over yourself in that tub. It’s the confusion that’s fucking your head up the most.
The gloved hand on your left suddenly moves to cover your mouth. The one on the right starts moving south. Whoever this person is, they clearly have no qualms about hurting you as they grab your tits hard, one at a time. Between savage gropes and nipple-pinches, the dead silence gets broken with the sharp sound of those surgical gloves slapping your wet titts.
This weird mix of sensory deprivation, physical impact, and a hint of sadism is clearly having an effect on you. You inhale sharply whenever it hurts, and your breathing gets heavy whenever it feels good. Your mind feels like its rushing at a million miles an hour trying to figure out who the fuck is doing this to you, but your body, it betrays you. The hard nipples, the legs rubbing together, all of it tells this intruder that your body is saying “Yes!” even if everything above your shoulders indicates “No!”.
Noticing these signals, the intruder tightens their grip on your mouth while despatching the other hand underwater. The hand slithers down the front of your body. It disappears beneath the bubbles that you were childishly playing with just moments earlier.
The intruder grabs you by the pussy in the most undignified way imaginable. They bring the focus of your undivided attention towards your crotch. Every tiny movement feels magnified to the point that you can almost feel the perpetrator’s pulse through their grasp. You can most definitely feel them curl their middle finger and place it right at the entrance of your pussy.
Your jaw drops and you stop breathing the moment you feel the tip of that finger begin forcing its way inside of you. It’s a slow penetration. Deliberate but relentless, all the way until it’s knuckle-deep. They waste no time in pulling back out just so they can shove it right back in with added force. Even after only a few repetitions of this, you already feel an orgasm start to build up. There’s been a million and one things going on since the start, but getting fingerbanged is the final straw.
You’re not in control, so you can’t stop it from happening. Your body heads over the edge without a moment’s hesitation, falling into an orgasm so intense that your entire body starts shaking uncontrollably. Your legs and thighs shake, causing you to splash water all over the place. Even the intruder gets splashed as a result, though they don’t seem to care. They simply continue fingering you relentlessly, twirling that finger around to drill your pussy like they’re looking for fucking gold.
As your orgasm starts to die down and your muffled moans fade into the person’s hand, they decide to leave your mouth uncovered. You gasp for air in an attempt to catch your breath. Yet, even though you can speak and scream now, you’re so lost in that post-orgasm daze that you just lay there motionless, entirely at their mercy. Not a single ounce of resistance is left in you.
For a brief moment, the room goes dead quiet again. It takes a while, but you suddenly remember that the person’s middle finger is still buried deep inside your aching pussy. For some reason, it hasn’t moved for a couple of minutes. What you do hear, though, is the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down somewhere behind the tub. With the hand that was once silencing you, they ruffle about with their underwear and pull something out. You think you know what it is, but you lack the energy to even turn your head and try to find out.
Two things happen simultaneously. The finger lodged inside of you starts to move again, but much differently. That finger is now fucking you with an inconsistent rhythm, almost as if the person is distracted. You know this person has one hand free, and you think their lack of focus is a result of their multitasking.
But what the fuck could they be doing?
The answer becomes apparent when you hear what sounds like a cock being jerked off right behind your head. They’re doing it with their non-dominant hand, which might explain why the jacking-off rhythm is also somewhat irregular.
The brain fog starts to take over you again. The sound of that cock being jerked off right behind your head is somewhat hypnotizing, especially when paired with the finger that’s concurrently molesting you at an unpredictable pace. Sometimes its penetrates you quick and shallow, sometimes it goes deeper but slower. Every now and then, the damn finger just stops halfway while its owner is distracted with their own cock. Unlike the continuous barrage of finger fucking you were receiving earlier, the unstable rhythm this time around is keeping your body on edge even more
Somewhere amid the chaos, you suddenly feel a set of teeth sinking into the right side of your neck. With their face pressing up against your neck, you can now be sure that they’re wearing a ski mask. And judging by how deep those teeth are going into your neck, it’s evident that they’re not fucking around here. They’re biting down and sucking with the clear intent of leaving a mark on you, on the most vulnerable soft target your body’s got.
After breaking you down once already, the second orgasm starts to build up a lot quicker than before. With your neck between this predator’s teeth and their finger deep inside your tight pussy, you’ve already let go of yourself completely. Your body became someone else’s property long ago. You know what’s about to happen, and even if you wanted to stop it (right now your mind is too fried to be sure), you know you could not do so.
With your mouth uncovered and your inhibitions non-existent, your moans grow louder the closer that orgasm gets. When it reaches you, your voice suddenly hits such a high pitch that there’s no doubt other hotel guests can hear you.
You shake. You kick. Your body jerks. The second orgasm completely engulfs you, as if to swallow you into a whole other dimension. You lay there half-conscious as the feelings surge through your spine, gradually fading with each pulse. Like someone who was just electrocuted, your body spasms from time to time, even though the orgasm has burned itself out.
For one final time, they push their middle finger as deep as it can go. After a brief pause to let your pussy seal tightly around it, the perpetrator yanks that entire finger out in one quick move, sending a final jolt right through your system. The brain fog from that second orgasm is still intense, and you still have trouble opening your eyes. Not that you’d be able to see much in the darkness, anyway.
They rise to their feet right next to the tub, continuing to jerk their cock off at an increasingly intense pace. Now, that cock is being jerked off with the person’s dominant hand, so their rhythm is constant, and their pace, audibly furious. As you continue gasping for air like a fish with your open mouth, you suddenly feel hot globs of something rain down all over your face, repeatedly. For a split second, you growl out loud, being much more vocal than you’ve been through this entire ordeal.
Those globs hitting you all over are steaming hot, and it doesn’t take long for that signature smell of cum to hit your nose. After forcing you into orgasm twice, the trespasser has obviously just dumped their massive load of hot cum. It’s certainly too dark for them to be precise with their aim, so they’ve simply pointed in your general direction before firing indiscriminately.
In the darkness, the trespasser can’t see where their cum has landed. They have no idea if it hit you in the face, fallen in your mouth, or blinded you in one eye. No, the aftermath is a **secret between you and yourself.** Also, thanks to the darkness, your facial and physical reactions to being rained on, whatever they may be, are only known to you.
With empty balls come a sudden wave of clarity. Your trespasser zips up and heads for the door with a new sense of urgency, but they don’t run. Right before the room door slams shut, the keycard gets pushed back into the power slot, and all the lights and your TV suddenly come back on.
You are now laying in the tub with real estate reality shows playing on the TV in front of you. Your half-full champagne glass is still there by the side of the tub next to the soaps. You look around in an attempt to regain your bearings, and you find that the environment is just as it was ten minutes ago.
***
I slide my keycard in and open the door as soon as the light goes green.
“Babe? I’m back!” I call out. My wallet and keys get dumped on the desk, and I turn to look at you. You’re laying in the tub with water splashed all over the floor.
“Somebody had a good swim haha. You alright? You look like you just fighting a shark in here or something.”
I bring the little paper bag with some scones and danishes inside and place it on a chair next to the tub.
“Sorry for the delay. The cafe was preparing fresh beans for the coffee machine. Came right up after they made it though.” I say as I lean in to kiss you on the forehead again. Strangely, you react only with a half-hearted smile as you take the bag. You’re usually much more expressive than that, but I’ll just assume you’re sleepy from your nap in the tub.
“You know, I’m gonna take a nap myself. Enjoy your snacks, I got your a latte in the cup as well”.
You see me getting undressed right before I disappear entirely under the covers.
You’re still coming out of your sub-space, post-orgasm daze as you reach for the coffee cup. You’re still struggling to process what just happened.
The only thing you can be sure of right now is that you’re craving that latte that I bought for you, so you hold it carefully in both hands and sip on it slowly. There’s a thousand-yard stare in your eyes; your mind is still trying to find its way back to reality.
After the first two sips, your heart starts pounding again. Your mind starts racing, and your head snaps to look at the bed where I’m laying. Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets heavy. A million unknowns are floating in your mind right now, but there is one thing that you are sure of, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
The coffee cup has a nitrile smell coming off of it.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hc2bkc/the_freestanding_tub_mf_str8_studentteacher