Reality is better than imagination. Part 1 [M27 Assistant professor, F25 Student]

Hello reddit!

This is a novel i have been working on in the past. I was thinking of going back to it but apart from my wife no one ever read it. So im posting here to get some feedback, is it worth the read etc. I have 40 pages of this so if you like it ill continue posting. And this is google translated since im not writing in English. Enjoy the read and let me know if you like it.

Chapter
1
September day was just right for me. While I was going to the classroom “La dispute” played a concert just for me through headphones, none of my colleagues stopped me, and the rain, although it fell stubbornly, did not
manage to wet my cigarette, so I managed to smoke it all. I remember thinking
intensely about whether objective reality actually exists, or whether we all
actually see the world in a unique way. To be honest, I think it’s the last
time in the last six months that I’ve thought about anything other than
fucking. About fucking with her. I was sitting in my place, next to the wall in
the third row of the classroom, and of course the row in front, behind and my
row were empty. I like to jig with my foot, often with both, and that is why it
happens, I move the tables in the rows in front and behind me. I looked through
the walls and still haven’t come to an answer as to whether objective reality
existed when She entered. She stopped at the entrance to the classroom for less
than a second and confidently stepped into the classroom with a layman’s eye.
But to the person, who has been sitting on the corners and against the wall all
his schooling, that short break said it all. She didn’t have as much
self-confidence as she wanted to have, a fatal mistake, and completely
unnecessary, but who am I to judge. Fire red hair, slightly curly due to rain
and humidity outside, fell on her shoulders. So far, I have never seen anyone
who knows how to wear such hair. It seemed as natural to her as it is natural
for the sun to rise in the east and set in the west. She was too far away to
see the color of her eyes, but they were clear and sharp, framed by black cat
glasses. And it all started when I saw her lips. They were thin but full,
fresh, smooth, the color of young pink skin and the perfect shape for my dick.
I can’t even remember the clothes because all the blood decided to run into my
head at that moment. Just one look at her lips was enough to make me harder
than ever in my life. I felt my dick move cigarettes in my pocket. Then I
proved to myself and the whole world for the millionth time that a wide
sweatshirt is the best item of clothing. She saw her friend and laughed like a
young moon laughs at night. She passed me and sat two rows behind. She left
behind an indescribable scent. At the beginning of autumn, it smelled like
spring in full swing, it smelled sweet and fresh. She smelled like she was
hungry for dick. She immediately started talking to her friend, I heard her
voice but I don’t remember it. I had to look at her one more time and I turned
to take the fountain pen out of my backpack. I saw her lips again, I felt my
cigarettes move in my pocket again because my head swelled like a mushroom
after the rain. I was thinking about whether she likes to suck dick and how she
likes to do it. Does she like to be fully clothed? In her underwaer? Or
completely naked? I imagined her dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, innocently
kneeling in front of me as I sat. How timidly she unbuttons my slit with her
hand and widens her eyes as she takes it in her warm hands. She runs the tip of
her tongue over the corners of my head, licks my fringe, licks my tree to the
beginning of the balls and then comes back to the head again. All the while
afraid to put it in my mouth, look me in the eye, and grab it. I closed my eyes
and remembered her scent. Hungry for dick I thought.
My imagination continued.
I heard the bell from the apartment and opened the door. She entered
without a word, gently took my hand and took me to the apartment. She stopped
in front of a clear white wall. She looked me straight in the eyes as she took
off her T-shirt and revealed all the charms of her body. Tight tits, medium
size, beautifully placed in a plain skin-colored bra. Then she unbuttoned her
jeans, sat down on a chair and took them off. A damp line was drawn on ordinary
underpants that were not complete with a bra. She gave me a short smile as she
stood up and pushed me against the wall. She looked me in the eye and knelt
down, unbuttoned my belt, then my zipper and took off my jeans and panties up
to my knees. My dick popped out like a spring loaded for years. She couldn’t
help but smile across her cheeks. She put her hands on my hips, pushed me
against the wall and started to put it in her throat. She took a short break in
half, but she succeeded. When I felt fringe of her throat on my head, I let out
a scream, and so did she. She took it out, looked me in the eye briefly, and
fixed her gaze on him again. She looked at him, enjoyed him, swallowed him with
her eyes before swallowing him with her mouth. Her hand wandered to her wet
panties and let out a soft scream and then as if remembering something she
withdrew her hand. She shoved it down her throat. She coughed. She took it out
and hit herself with it lightly as if she was punishing herself for coughing.
She grabbed his foot with her left hand and tightened it. My vein jumped out,
my head swelled, precum began to drip from me on her knees. She hesitated a bit
and then spat the saliva from her tongue at him. She stroked her whole dick
with her other hand. She did it again, then again, then again. I felt her
saliva pour down my balls. She squeezed my hips and pushed me to my throat,
holding it in her mouth until she was completely out of breath, when she
finally took it out saliva spilled over her tits and over her bra as she let
out a sigh. She did it again, but now she choked, coughed, dug her nails into
my skin, but she didn’t move until she was completely out of breath. She took
it out and inhaled.
 
“If you do it one more time, I’ll cum in your throat.” – I could
barely speak.
“You will,” she said and licked my head, and I screamed,
“just not now, now I want a pearl necklace.”
As she said that, she started to jerk off to me, her hand flew over my wet
dick, she got up a little, looked me in the eyes, put it on my tits and I couldn’t
stand it anymore. I exploded on her tits and bra like a volcano, she didn’t
take the smile off her face. She was covered in my cum, from shoulders to
breasts to bras. There was a little left on her fingers, she looked me in the
eye and licked.
“If I had known you were so delicious, I would have swallowed it
all,” she spread the semen all over herself, from her breasts to her
stomach. “Thank you for the sperm.” She said she put on a T-shirt,
jeans, a sweatshirt, and went outside.
I didn’t wait for the lecture to end, I ran outside, got in the car, put my
hand in my pocket, which was wet from my semen, and started jerking off. I
didn’t succeed, it was enough to touch only once.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vvqptp/reality_is_better_than_imagination_part_1_m27