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Thursday 20 November 2014

Erotic Literature — Part 2: Class of 69

Catch up on Part 1: The Fresher HERE
After his pleasantly shocking ordeal, Owen managed to calm himself down and finish Freshers week. He made friends and partied just like the rest of them, wandering from class to class, half  paying attention to his lecturers; his first week off  in college was going rather well.
It was Thursday afternoon, his first Economics lecture of the year. He was sitting with his new friend Chris, ogling the girls in their class with a quick game of ‘fuck or pass’ as they awaited the arrival of the lecturer. The door opened. There she was, blonde hair framing her face, those sapphire blue eyes, and he wasn’t the only one to notice her beauty this time; the room had fallen silent. Every guy in the class had their eyes glued to her. Her brilliant white blouse buttoned down in the suggestive way she wore it and her tight black skirt that left very little to the imagination. He was taken back to the previous week, his mind racing, face flushing and his red-hot blood rushing south.
“Good evening, I’m Dr. Cameron and I will be taking you for Economics this semester.” Her voice was slow and calm, her tone collected; everything about her astounded him. As she began to call the attendance sheet, he feared her calling his name. Would she be angry? Would she throw him out? Would she say nothing? He had no idea. The names trickled by as the sweat trickled down his neck, slow and steady.
“Owen Cooney?” she called
“Yeah.” he tried to sound lackluster, calm. He failed miserably. His voice cracked like that of a smoker, the words caught in the back of his throat; his volume lessened by his fear. She looked up and caught his eye. He could have sworn her eyes widened for a second but was unsure; however, she swiftly continued with the list. He wondered whether she had noticed him, whether she had forgotten what he looked like. He didn’t know, but for the moment he was ok.
As the class drew to a close, Dr. Cameron requested a volunteer. No one spoke. Owen didn’t want to put himself in the spotlight, so he stayed silent and retreated into the crowd quietly. “Right so, I’ll just pick someone at random. Owen Cooney stay back with me for five minutes.”
The class emptied.
“Well, well, well, isn’t this a coincidence. You never took my number!” she teased. Words failed him. She stepped closer to him, her face inches from his. “Did you enjoy yourself?” He nodded stupidly. She leaned in, beginning to kiss him, gently at first, while her hands slid down his chest toward his belt. She opened it, prying the leather strap from its metal buckle. In one swift motion she unbuttoned his jeans, unzipped them and pulled them down to his ankles. He jumped slightly with the shock. He felt exposed. She started to grapple at his crotch, making him hard. She took his cock from his boxers and licked his shaft, her hands cradling his balls. He felt every lick, suck and stroke. His hand clasped the back of her head and pulled her towards his dick, moving her head up and down as she sucked his cock.
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She stood up and pulled him onto the floor. As he lay on his back, she stood astride his head. She lifted up her skirt, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Slowly she lowered herself onto his face and he began to lick her clit as she continued to suck his cock. They kissed and licked each other, grinding into each other’s mouths, faster and harder. He could feel his cum flowing through his shaft as she began to tremble on his face, twitching with delight.  Cock in mouth, she moaned, “I’m going to cum..” sending him over the edge. He started to cum in her mouth, feeling her wrap her experienced tongue around his tip as she too climaxed, grinding furiously, faster, and harder onto his tongue. She rolled off him and they lay there, panting, for no more than a minute before she stood up and started writing something on the table.

She handed him a small piece of paper, and whispered in his ear “Let’s keep this our dirty little secret.” And with a kiss on the cheek, she left.
He looked at the piece of paper.
On it, was a phone number.

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