He lifted his thumb and blew softly on the swollen flesh. Her vagina clenched around his finger, and he wondered just how close she was to coming. He blew on her clit again and slid his finger in an out of her pu**y. Just as he had suspected, she was a powder keg waiting to explode. Sensitive to each spasm of her slick yet powerful pu**y muscles around his index finger, he bent his head down an inch or two and barely touched the tip of his tongue to her firm, throbbing flesh.
She pressed against him, begging for a tongue f**k. Grasping the back of his head with her hands, she ground his face into her pu**y, crushing herself against his lips and teeth.
Charlie knew what she wanted, even as she thrashed onto him. Slipping his middle finger into her pu**y to join his index finger, he continued to slide his fingers in and out of her in a slow, steady rhythm. He gripped her firm, round ass in his left hand and pointed his tongue so that all she felt against her clit was the hard tip. As if he were typing the same letter over and over on a typewriter, as if she was the page he was making his mark on, he moved his tongue steadily up and down on her clit as she cried out with pleasure.
Finally, the pulsing of her muscles around his fingers slowed and Candace’s body went limp. The muscles in her back and butt cheeks tightened up as she tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t allow it. She might not have known what she was getting into when she made her “let’s get naked because we’re professionals” comment just minutes earlier, but now, whether she liked it or not, he would decide when they were finished.
After all, he was the teacher.
And she was the very promising new student.
Quickly, he put his arms around her trim waist and threw her onto the plush bedding, face down. As her body hit velvet, it was as if flowers rained from the sky. Several rose petals landed on her ass, thighs, and calves. Charlie moved to straddle her on the bed, blowing each of the rose petals off one by one until all that remained before him was her naked, creamy skin. With every breath, Candace whimpered her pleasure.
She started squirming, but when she tried to turn around, he quickly moved to straddle her, leaning over her back to cup her full br**sts in his hands through her tank top. He whispered in her ear, “I’m going to take off your shirt now so that you can feel the velvet rubbing against your ni**les.”
She stopped squirming and in a voice so quiet he could barely hear her she whispered, “Okay.”
Charlie sat back up with a leg on each side of her thighs, the huge bulge in his Levis pressing into the curve of her ass. He grinned as he slid his fingers underneath the hem of her tank top.
He liked hearing her quick agreement, liked running the show.
After years of women making him feel like he wasn’t worth their time due to his choice of profession, after years of women using him only for his huge bank account, Charlie savored the sensation of being in complete control of a woman’s body and soul.
Knowing he had already given her intense pleasure so quickly only served to up the ante.
Her breath quickened as he slowly rubbed his fingers underneath the hem of her shirt, along her rib cage. With infinite precision he dragged her cotton shirt up her ribs until it caught on her br**sts, which were much larger than he had thought a week ago at the conference.
If someone had asked him to guess her cup size he would have confidently said she was a B-cup, given her small frame. But now, having held her globes in his hands, even only for a moment through her thin, damp cotton shirt, he knew himself for the fool he was.
Candace was definitely at D cup. At least.
Slipping his hands between the plush velvet coverlet and her shirt, he hooked his thumbs up under the hem of her shirt and tugged it up over her tits. As he pushed the shirt past her ni**les and the tips of his fingers covered her tits, he heard her rapid intake of breath and almost came in his jeans. He was already breathing like he had run a marathon.
“Put your arms up,” he whispered into her ear and as she obeyed him he slid the tank top off of her body and threw it to the floor.
Candace turned her head to face him, but he already had a plan of action and was not going to let her deter him. Putting his hands on her rib cage, he lifted her torso slightly off of the bed so that her ni**les were just barely touching the velvet.
“I’m going to rub your tits against the cover and I want you to focus all of your attention on how good it feels.”
She nodded, just barely, showing him she understood. He pressed his groin into her ass, which pressed her mound into the velvet. He separated her legs with one of his and her juices soaked through the denim covering his legs. Roughly, so she could feel the coarse fabric pull and tug against her tender lips, he moved his thigh up and down against her.
Tightening his hold on her ribcage, he lifted her torso up just high enough that her ni**les floated just above the velvet cover. “Your br**sts are the only thing in the world that matters, Candy. Forget about my thigh rubbing between you legs. Forget about how much you want to turn around wrap your legs around my waist.”
She groaned and tried to protest, so he squeezed her ribs tighter in his strong hands.
“Do as I say,” he said forcefully. “It’s for your own good.”
Candace’s body tensed underneath him for a split second before her hips started to buck wildly against his leg. She was coming again, convulsing helplessly against his leg. His mouth curved up into a steamy look of satisfaction as he drove his thigh against her pu**y and gave her what she wanted.
The fierce rocking of her lower body blew dozens of rose petals off of the bed, into the air and onto the floor.
The mingled scents of her pleasure and the rose petals were a fragrance he knew he would never be able to forget.
But he still hadn’t forgotten his goal. Before they left the room, before lesson one had come to its incredible, unforgettable end, he wanted her to realize just how sensitive a woman’s br**sts were, so that she could write powerful sex scenes in her books that left no part of the female body unexplored.
He almost laughed aloud as he realized what a poor job he was doing of fooling himself that he cared one whit about her writing skills at this moment as he lay over her, his fingers mere inches from her tits, his leg practically jammed up inside her cunt.
They could offer him the f**kin’ Pulitzer Prize right now and he wouldn’t care. Frankly, what he was doing in his guest bedroom—what he and Candace were doing together—had nothing to do with writing and everything to do with sex. And he wanted Candace to experience sex in its most heightened form. With him.