His cock fills my mouth as I kneel on the floor between his legs. I love his taste, his smell, his hot throbbing hardness. I’m moaning as I glide my mouth up and down his throbbing shaft. The whoosh of his flogger warns me, but I still emit a muffled shriek as the multiple leather strands fall on my exposed ass and curl between my thighs to slap my cunt. The blows on my ass and cunt provide the rhythmic pulse to my oral service of his cock. He pushes my shoulders back, I groan as his cock slips from my mouth, and then he slides off my office couch and pushes me onto the soft leather, still on my knees. I whimper as he mounts my ass and then forces his cock head into my ass. He pauses as I gasp and accommodate his thick member, but then pushes himself deep into me as I wriggle and moan. His thrusts are insistent, demanding, and each time waves of pleasure flood through my loins as his cock ravages my ass. His hips slap my cheeks, already red and tender from the whip, and the slaps just add to my arousal. He slips one hand under my hips and strokes my clit as his cock pounds my ass, another hand slips under my blouse and his fingers grip and pinch my nipple. Soon he has me crying out with ecstasy as I cum in long waves that do not stop as he keeps stroking, pinching, and fucking me. I feel his cock swell even more as his arousal builds, and then he roars, and floods me with his cum. Only then does he stop stroking my clit and pinching my nipple and I slowly come down from the heights of ecstasy. I’m still moaning quietly and prone on the couch, my panties around my knees and the scent of leather fills my head as I hear him slip on his jeans and buckle his belt. He leans down and kisses my ear, I turn and our lips caress each other’s. “See you next week, Ms. Vargas” and with that incongruous phrase, he slips out of my office.
Two hours later, I’m back at my desk, grading papers from my senior seminar and reading research proposals from graduate students. One of the research proposals is an exploration of the evolution of the female orgasm in English literature from the Victorian period to modern writers. I am struck by these sentences: “While the male orgasm is necessary for reproduction, the female orgasm seems to have no purpose. Thus, it is free to become a symbol infused with the mores and issues of contemporary society. The female orgasm may be one of the most revealing and powerful symbols in literature.” I smile to myself. *“Not just a powerful symbol”* I think. Certainly, my orgasms are a powerful force in my life. I remember the first time Jake came to my office for a conference. His paper was a disaster, but he is a very desirable example of the young male physique. He also knows his way around a cunt, because in order to ensure his success in the course, he eagerly knelt between my thighs and licked my cunt until I exploded with a spectacular orgasm. Then he did it again and again until I finally decided I had cum enough. It is such a powerful feeling to have a young man kneel before me as I unzip and push my jeans down past my knees and then have him murmur in appreciation as he leans in and starts to lick my cunt.
I let my hand pull up the hem of my short skirt and slip under my panties. My fingers glide over my clit as I remember that first conference with Jake. His tongue started licking at the base of my cunt and then rose up to my clit where he fluttered his tongue, and made waves of pleasure flood across my loins. Once he had my hips writhing with ecstasy, his fingers slid deep into my cunt and stroked inside me as his tongue fluttered over my clit and I exploded with pleasure. I love that he never stopped at the first orgasm. He knows that I can cum just as many times as he is willing to lick me. Often, once his fingers were wet and slippery from stroking inside my cunt, he would push a finger into my ass at the same time he was stroking inside my cunt and lapping at my clit. Of course, I loved all this stimulation, and after 45 minutes of orgasm after orgasm, I was barely able to stay in my chair after he left my office. Jake’s oral sessions with me became regular. I loved how well he knew his way around my cunt and how easily he could make me cum and cum and cum. Of course, my feelings for him changed. One cannot remain dispassionate about the source of such good feelings as Jake brought me. Soon, I was dependent on his visits. My arousal built all day as I waited for him to arrive and I exploded with my first orgasm as soon as his fingers brushed my clit. Then the power in our relationship changed. No longer was I the instructor giving him a pass in my course in exchange for great oral sex. Now I was an addict dependent on him for the most pleasurable feelings possible. Soon I was wearing inappropriately short skirts and getting my cunt waxed to please him. This is how I found myself only a few hours ago kneeling between Jake’s thighs and sucking his cock until he decided to ravage my ass as I screamed with pleasure under him. Now, it was all his choices, his preferences. True, I still got my pleasure, always multiple orgasms by his tongue and cock and fingers, but it was all on his initiative and timing.
As I gaze out my office window and gently stroke my clit, I realize that my orgasms are so much more of an influence than a man’s. After Jake filled my ass with his hot cum earlier this afternoon, he was done. He zipped up and went off to do whatever he needed to do. After a man cums, he pretty much does not need sex, or even desire sex, for a day or two. (Maybe teenagers are different. I hear that they can cum every few hours, but I wouldn’t know.) Women on the other hand, are still aroused and can easily cum again (and again). No wonder we women accept men as dominant in our lives. (Well, at least men who bring us multiple orgasms regularly). I’m not religious at all, but I suspect that if there is a God, he is male, and he gave women the orgasm to keep us docile.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5spgf5/fm_jake_and_ms_vargas_part_1