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The Cellist

By: Miltone



It was late when I had made it to my off-campus apartment from a wild birthday party for one of my fellow professors. I had managed to crawl between the covers before passing out. The endless beers and jello shots had pasted a number on my head and I fell into the weirdest set of dreams. Sometime during my fitful sleep I was roused by the loud sounds of bumping and thumping, not the next-door neighbors humping, as they often liked to do on Saturday mornings, since the sound was coming from the apartment on the other side, right next to my bedroom. As I rolled over and grumbled and tried to muffle the noise by hiding beneath the covers I remembered that this neighboring apartment had been empty for over a month and figured that someone had picked this morning-of all mornings-to move in.

Despite my most earnest attempts at falling back to sleep for the next hour or more, the sounds of the voices, deep rumbling guy voices mixed with a bright giggling girl's voice, kept me awake. Of course, by the time I finally roused myself from the bed, brewed a pot of coffee, and retrieved the newspaper, they had finished moving the furniture in and I looked out to see the rental van pulling away.

"Shit!" I swore as I snapped the blinds shut and carried my piping hot cup of coffee back to the bedroom. I slumped on the bed, opened up the newspaper, and began to scan the headlines. It didn't take long for my eyelids to grow heavy and in spite of the slight caffeine buzz I drifted off to a peaceful sleep. I entered a warm erotic dream, the vision of a sweet blonde woman teasing me, her lithe young body and joyous laugh were taunting me, arousing me. And there was music. Lovely symphonic music and the sweet sonorous sound of a stringed instrument, deeper than a violin or viola ... a cello.

Suddenly I awoke from the dream, blinking my eyes at the bright afternoon sunlight flowing into the room. I could still see the image of the girl in my dreams, feel her body pressing against me, and hear her voice calling to me. The huge hard on between my legs told me just what kind of dream it had been. And the music ... I could still hear the music. I turned my head and I could still hear the cello being played, but it didn't have anything to do with my dream, it was coming from the next apartment. No fucking wonder, I chuckled to myself as I rolled over and climbed from the bed.

I stripped off my rumpled clothes and fished out my running togs, light blue running shorts and a favorite old basketball shirt. While dressing, I listened to the music from next door. It was a long piece, and very ... very ... very sensual. I laced up my running shoes and stepped out onto the balcony to check the weather. The music was louder and I realized that the musician must be out on their private balcony as well. I leaned out over the rail to look next door but they were out of sight.

Smiling, I moved back through my apartment, grabbed a bottle of water, and left for my run. I had a couple of different routes that I would follow depending on my mood. Being still a bit distracted by my wild dream I ended up taking a longer route than I normally would with a thick hangover. As I ran back toward the complex, I decided to take a short cut along the back of the building instead of going all the way around to the front entrance.

I slowed as I neared the building, dousing myself with the last of my fresh water. Then I heard the sound of the music again and looked up in the direction it was coming from. Moving back from the building I could see the balcony of my new neighbor and the sight that greeted my eyes stopped me in my tracks. Seated at a chair holding a beautiful instrument was an equally beautiful young woman, honey blonde hair, blue-eyes, a pert little upturned nose, full pouty lips, with lovely trim arms and finely shaped legs cradling her cello as she played. Then I was struck by the look of her sitting there. She was the girl from my dream, almost exactly!

There was something so sensual about the scene before me, the lush sound of the music, the look of intensity in her eyes, the precise flowing way her fingers moved up and down the neck of the instrument, tweaking little nuances of vibrato from the strings, the way her other hand drew the bow back and forth languidly. I stood for several minutes more, listening to the music and watching the awesome sight before my eyes, my body responding strangely to the sound. The player seemed to be unaware of anything but the music, her head swaying from side to side as she played. Finally with a great flourish, she finished the piece and leaned her body against the instrument, her left arm curling around the neck of the instrument. Caught up in the moment, I began to clap my hands.

"Bravo!" I shouted up with a smile.

The girl looked at me quite startled by my response. A blush of embarrassment filled her cheeks for a moment.

"Wonderful!" I shouted up. "You play beautifully!"

She mouthed a little "thank you," and held her instrument close to her, as if hiding behind it. As I looked closer I could see why. It looked as though she was wearing only a bathing suit-no, check that, just her bra and panties, and a skimpy sexy little pink ensemble at that. I could see just behind the body of the cello the pale curve of her breast held in place by a delicate pink lace bra. Talk about your awkward moments! I wasn't sure what to say to a cellist in her underwear, especially one who just so happens to be your new next-door neighbor, and also happens to be stunningly beautiful.

"Just got back from my daily run," I remarked pointing toward my apartment next to hers. "By the way, I'm Chase, your next-door neighbor."

"Hi, I'm Kirsten," she replied shyly but with a pretty smile. "Kirsten Montgomery."

"Nice to meet you," I called out and saw her nod her pretty head. "Most people call me Professor since I teach English over at the University." Still hot and sweaty from my run, I realized that I must have been a sorry sight, mussed up hair, sweaty running togs and a two days' growth of beard. "Say, if you aren't doing anything right now, I'll clean up and stop by and give you a proper welcome."

"Umm, okay," she said glancing around nervously.

"Give me about ten minutes," I said. With a wave, I walked toward the rear entrance to the building and let myself in. I stripped off my sweaty running clothes and stood underneath the shower, letting the hot water rush over my tall trim body, invigorating the firm muscles of my chest and arms. As I quickly washed my body, the stiffness of my cock was undeniable; it felt thicker than usual and very sensitive, almost begging to be stroked. Was it an after effect of my sexy dream, or listening to Kirsten play her cello, or was it something else that aroused me in such a way?

Stepping out of the shower and toweling off, I slipped into a pair of silk boxers and khaki slacks with a favorite golf shirt pulled on top. I brushed my sandy brown hair and gave myself a quick look over. There was a sparkle to my blue eyes and a warm grin on my face. I spritzed on a bit of cologne and then went to the kitchen to rummage for a suitable welcoming gift. I found it on the wine rack, a favorite bottle of bottle of McGuigan Simeon Merlot. Clutching the bottle I went next door and knocked. I heard her call out, "Coming! Just a minute!" A minute later, the door opened and Kirsten greeted me. She was dressed in a light blue summer dress that clung to her shapely body like a glove.

"Hi, Chase," she said cordially. "Ermm, Professor! Come on in!" She waved me inside her apartment. It was the mirror image of mine, a one-bedroom unit with an open floor plan that gave the place a spacious feel.

"Thanks," I said and then held out the bottle of wine as I stepped inside. "Here, this is for you. Welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thank you," she replied, closing the door and accepting the wine bottle. She read the label and smiled. "Very nice. Reminds me of home." It was then that I recognized her accent.

"You're from down under, just like the wine, eh?" I asked, adoring the lilt of her accent. She nodded. "I can easily see that some of the sweetest things in this world come from there!"

"Yes, I am, Brisbane in fact ... on the coast," she answered sweetly. "So, umm, would you like me to open this now or ...?" she asked.

"Up to you. I wouldn't mind sharing a glass if you'd like," I ventured.

She agreed and asked me to do the honors, which I gladly did. It was such a nice afternoon, we took our glasses of wine and used a couple of packing crates as chairs out on her balcony.

"So what brings you to Ann Arbor?" I asked.

"I'm going to be studying at the University for the summer and one of the other students turned me on to this place," she said, taking a dainty sip of wine. "Better than a dorm or a motel."

"A lot of my students live here in The Quad, as they call it. It's close to the campus and the rent is reasonable," I remarked. "Plus if you're lucky, you get a nice private view," I said gesturing toward the lush woods that ran along the back of the building, providing a calm peaceful feeling.

"Then I guess I'm lucky," Kirsten replied with a lovely glowing smile.

And our conversation just seemed to flow after that. I told her about teaching at the University, she spoke of her study of music and language. Despite the obvious difference in our ages, we freely moved on to other topics beyond music and literature, discovering a number of common interests in art and movies and books, in physical activities and sports, shared likes and dislikes in food and wine. By the time the wine was nearly finished, I felt as if we had quickly become good friends, not hindered at all by the fact that I was considerably older. I was very taken by the mature way she talked and carried herself. But the way she sat in the chair, legs uncrossed, the hem of her dress riding up her thighs was like the music she had played earlier, very sensual. I had to rein in my glances, making sure that I didn't stare too long at her long lovely legs, the swell of her hips, the curves of her proud firm breasts.

"So do you always practice the cello in your undies?" I ventured, emboldened by one last swig of wine. Her face blushed sweetly.

"Well most times I wear a nightgown or maybe panties and a t-shirt," she said, recovering nicely. "Kind of a hangover from when I would practice as a kid before bed. But today, well, I was going to jump in the shower, when I saw my cello and I just had to start playing." A terrific laugh escaped her pretty mouth.

"I was very impressed," I remarked with a grin. "I mean with your music. You play beautifully. Not that the rest of you isn't impressive, because it is."

"Professor!" she said, her eyes gazing intently at mine. "Are you trying to hit on me?"

"Trying?" I said. "Trying? I thought I wasn't just 'trying' but doing a pretty good job of doing the real thing."

"Well, you do have my attention," she replied.

"Then what about dinner?" I asked. "Would you care to join me?"

"Um, sure," she replied, hesitant at first. But as she took her last sip of wine, her expression brightened. "I'd love to!"

The rest of the afternoon faded into evening and we enjoyed a wonderful time. We walked downtown to a great spot for dinner. As we walked I took her hand in mine and felt her long fingers curl around my hand. During dinner we sat across from each other and I again had to keep myself from staring at her lovely young body that was so beautifully sheathed by her dress. And she knew that I was checking her out and seemed to encourage it. When she excused herself to the restroom, she made certain that I was able to see the sway of her ass as she walked away. And when she returned, she bent down to whisper in my ear, "Miss me?" knowing that it would give me a terrific view of her firm young breasts as she leaned forward.

After dinner, we walked hand in hand along Main Street, talking about everything and nothing. It was a gorgeous early summer evening and I could feel the effect that the wine and her company were having on me. As we neared a streetlight, I slowed and took her hand, pulling her toward me. She looked up into my eyes quizzically, yet fell lightly against my body. I rested my hand on her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her, a light brushing little kiss on her soft damp lips. I could feel her respond as she returned the kiss, her hand rising to curl behind my neck, pulling me close to her, her nails raking through the hair on the back of my neck. 

Since we lived in a university town and public displays of affection are commonplace, and few passersby took notice of our romantic interlude, even if it was between a well-respected English professor and a summer music student. We walked back toward our building, hand in hand and our conversation quieted. As we stepped through the entrance, she turned to me and reached for my neck again, pulling me toward her for another kiss. This one was not like the first, but a crushing kiss of passion. I felt her flow into my arms, my hands touching her for the first time, feeling the warmth of her body beneath the thin fabric of her dress.

"So, Professor," she said hoarsely when our kiss broke off. "I had a great time. Thanks so much for welcoming me to the neighborhood."

"My pleasure," I replied and escorted her up the stairs. We paused outside her door and kissed again. "Sleep warm."

"Thank you Professor," she returned.

Then her door opened and she slipped through and was gone. With the sweet taste of her kiss still on my lips I happily returned to my place. Pouring myself a glass of wine, I opened the door to my balcony and sat outside with my book. Moments later I was greeted by the sensual strains of Kirsten's cello. "I think I'm going to enjoy having Miss Montgomery for a neighbor," I said softly to myself. "Yes, indeed."

~~~~

Monday evening is my night for doing chores. Clean the apartment. Do the wash. Grocery shopping. Any odd errand that needs to be done. I figure the rest of the week I have to myself to do whatever else I feel like. This one rainy Monday evening in mid summer was no different. I gathered up my overflowing laundry basket and trudged down to the basement to run my dirties through the communal laundry. I could see that the light was already turned on and figured that one of the other tenants had the same idea. But when I stepped up to the doorway, I was stopped in my tracks. Kirsten was standing in front of one of the two washing machines, her back to the door, and an empty laundry basket at her feet. She had just stripped her top off and was tossing it into the machine. She was naked to the waist and wearing just a little pair of shorts, which she quickly skimmed down her long legs and tossed into the machine as well, leaving her dressed in just a simple purple thong that left little to my fertile imagination.  

Talk about instant schwing! Seeing this slim shapely young girl nearly naked tweaked my under worked manhood greatly. I didn't want to make a sound and disturb her, for surely she'd think I was some sort of perv. On the other hand I didn't want to just stand and gape at her, but I couldn't help it. She was gorgeous, a beautiful all over tan, flawless creamy skin, and an incredible shape, especially her perfect, firm round buns. Then there was the split between her legs, the window I think photographers call it, wide enough to fit maybe three fingers through. She reached for a long bulky white t-shirt lying on the dryer next to her and pulled it on over her head. The hem fell to just past her perfect buns. I cleared my voice and entered the room.

"Whoa! Hi!" I said, trying to sound startled but wasn't sure that it sounded too sincere.

"Chase! Professor! Oh my god! You startled me!" she exclaimed placing her hand over her mouth. The flush of embarrassment reddened her cheeks.

"Just the old professor doing a little spot of laundry on a drizzly evening," I said setting my basket next to an unused washing machine.

"Did ... did you see ... when did you get here?" she asked with a nervous excitement.

"Just this moment," I lied and was sure she could see it in my face. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing," she said eyeing me suspiciously. "Just that if you were a bit earlier ... oh, never mind."

"What?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Although she was saying never mind, I knew what she must be thinking and I didn't want to let one what I had seen. Yet, I couldn't chase the image of her nearly naked body from my mind. She poured the little box of soap into the machine, closed the lid and started it up. She definitely seemed flustered as I began to dump my things into the machine next to hers.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing ... I just ..." she said hesitantly. "Just something ... impulsive ... nothing really."

"Whatever do you mean?" I said tossing the darks into the last machine. "You look like the cat caught in the cookie jar."

"I'm not ... I mean I didn't ... oh it doesn't really matter," she said with a bit of exasperation. "I mean if you just came in as you said, it doesn't matter."

"Oh, it wouldn't matter if let's say, oh, I don't know ... maybe if I saw you stripping down in the laundry room?" I said, hoping for a cool matter of factness, but standing beside her, having seen almost all of her beautiful body, was stunting my acting job.

"So you were spying on me," she said turning toward me.

"What? Me? Spying?"

"You were, weren't you!" she said taking a few steps toward me, wagging her finger in my face. "You nasty man! Wait till I tell the Dean!"

For a second I thought she was really angry with me, but the subtle hints of a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth, matching a sexy little flicker in her eyes.

"Tell him what, that I stumbled onto you getting naked in public? This is a university town. Not much news in that."

"So just what did you see?"

"Let's see ... it's such a blur ... you ... a skimpy top ... a pair of shorts ... a purple thong ..."

"So you were watching-spying on me! You are perverted!"

"I'm sorry, but when a beautiful young woman gets naked, I'm going to look," I said with an apologetic tone to my voice.

"Even if she doesn't know it? Isn't that peeping?"

"Not in a public place," I replied.

She thought about it for a moment.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"No, just a bit embarrassed."

"Well, for what it's worth, you have an incredible body, very, very sexy."

"Thank you," she said softly. The blush of embarrassment crept over her cheeks. We spent the rest of the hour hanging around the laundry room. We talked awkwardly at first and she sat with her legs crossed and her arms folded over her chest. But as we talked about school and other things, she began to relax and grow comfortable, leaned back casually on the top of the washing machines and let her legs uncross. I tried not to look but her purple thong kept peeking at me from between her legs, the thin panel of silk sheer enough to show the split of her sex. But soon enough our loads of laundry were finishing up.

"I know why you're hanging around," she said with a giggle as I watched her pull some of her lingerie from the machine. "You just want to check out my laundry."

"Not me," I said in mock innocence. "That would make me some sort of creepy weirdo ... although I have to admit that I'd love to see how sexy you look in that little black bra and panties in your hand."

"Eeek! You are a pervert!" she squealed good-naturedly. Then she laughed. "But I shouldn't talk. I'm sort of curious about what you'd look like in these." She reached over and grabbed a pair of my low-rise briefs and waved them in the air. "How do you fit all of your masculinity in these sexy little panties!"


The Cellist



Cranford Manor stood out like a sparkling jewel in the night, the gravel in front of the house was littered with expensive cars; the manor was the home of multimillionaire Vernon Wild, oil magnate. Tonight he was entertaining a select group of his friends. They were all eagerly looking forward to what Vernon had promised to be an evening to remember. As ten o-clock approached the immaculately dressed waiters strolled among the invited guests handing out glasses of vintage Champaign and politely asking the elegantly clad guests to make their way through to the music room where the evenings special entertainment was about to begin. 

As the guests took their seats there was a hum of expectant conversation, the doors were closed and there was suddenly silence in the room as the lights went out and the room was left in pitch darkness. Suddenly a single spotlight came on illuminating a gold chair positioned on a slightly raised dais. Luther, Mr. Wild's head butler elegant in his black evening suit and sporting a deep red carnation in his buttonhole walked into the light. "Ladies and gentlemen for you pleasure tonight I have the honor of introducing to you the world famous cellist Miss Andrea Williams." 

Andrea Williams was a face that everybody knew, a renowned cellist who was also a sought after beauty, admired and loved by her many followers all around the world. 

There was a polite round of applause as Andrea stepped into the spotlight she was dressed in a long red velvet cloak. As the applause died down her young blond assistant dressed in a simple long white dress, followed her on carrying her cello, she stood slightly behind Andrea as to not obscure the talented soloist from her adoring audience. 

To the onlookers Andrea seemed unusually nervous as she raised her hands and took hold of the cord around the neck of her cloak, she slowly pulled on the cord; there was a gasp from the audience as the cloak parted. The reason for her nervousness was revealed to everyone in the room, for beneath the cloak Andrea was totally nude, she was not wearing anything apart from her black high-heeled shoes. The cloak dropped to the floor and the beautiful young woman stood there in front of everyone in all her naked glory. 

In the darkness at the back of the room Vernon watched a smile on his face. How the mighty are fallen he thought to himself. Vernon had found out about Andrea's financial problems a few months ago, although she had made a considerable amount of money in her career, bad financial advice and even worse investments and her own inability to stop spending money, had eventually brought her to the brink of bankruptcy. 

Vernon had invited her to a meeting where he had informed her that he knew about her financial problems and he said that he was willing to help her sort out her problems before they became public. At first she was grateful for his help; she realized that if her plight became known her illustress career would have been ruined. It was only when she found out what he required from her for his help that she had at first refused even to consider his offer. 

Vernon was well known among his many close friends and associates for his interesting and somewhat unusual parties. He liked to put on special entertainment for his guests and Andrea was that special entertainment he was planning for his forthcoming event. 

She had sat across from him in his large office she had been angry, she could not believe what he was asking of her, in return for helping her out of her financial problems. What he was asking of her was to appear at his next party and play for his guests, that part of it was not a problem for her, what was a problem was that he wanted her to appear and perform her recital naked. 

He told her to go away and think about things. He knew that when she thought things through there was no way she was going to turn him down. Now from the darkness he looked at her standing under the bright spotlight naked before his guests. Her high firm breasts were tipped with hard erect nipples. Her body was trim and well toned from her daily work out. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed and this in turn exposed the slightly pouting lips of her pussy to everyone. 

After standing there for a few moments as requested by Vernon she took her seat on the gold chair. She parted her legs wide enough to allow the girl in the white dress to place the cello between them, for an exciting moment the glory of her pussy was totally exposed to those fortunate enough to be sitting in front of her. Then she took the cello and with a smile at her audience she began her recital. 

At the end of each piece of music she played she was encouraged by her very appreciative audience to stand and take a bow. They loved her music and the erotic sight of her nakedness made it a memorable evening for everyone who was lucky enough to be present. 

Although she had been dreading the moment Andrea was surprised how exciting it had actually been to remove her cloak and stand naked before the illustrious audience. Since her second meeting with Vernon Wild where she had reluctantly accepted his offer she had many spent many hours imagining that moment. Now as she sat there playing she could feel the eyes of everyone in the room were on her naked body. She was amazed and surprised at the reaction of her body, she had excepted to have felt deeply ashamed to have to appear like this, but now half way into her recital her nipples were aching, she had never before experienced them being so hard for so long. Also the continuing excitement she was now experiencing from exposing herself like this was also causing her pussy to begin to lubricate profusely. Each time when she stood to accept the ovation of the audience, she could feel her juices seeping out. She realized that some of the people sitting closest to her could obviously see what was happening to her, this in turn only made her become even more aroused. 

She also knew that her naked recital not the end of her ordeal, for after she completed her performance Vernon had also requested that she remain naked while she mingled with his guests for drinks. 

Her performance ended amid rapturous applause; the fact that she had, had to appear naked had not in any way caused her to perform to a lesser standard than she would have done in the splendor of an international concert hall. She stood up and passed cello to the young blond haired assistant who had remained sitting on the floor by her side throughout. Vernon Wild stepped forward from the darkness and took her hand, he raised it to his lips and kissed it, the audience applauded again. Then he led the attractive naked young women from the room. 

In the adjoining room a waiter offered them a glass of Champaign, Andrea saw his eyes taking in her nakedness, and she again felt a renewed thrill. The audience who had just witnessed her performance began to drift into the room to join them and she was again exposed to their even closer scrutiny, something she had to admit that was now becoming accustomed too, although the whole experience still continued to excite her. 

After everyone had, had the opportunity to see the attractive woman and congratulate and speak to her Vernon took her arm and taking leave of his guests, he led her off into an adjoining room that was illuminated by flickering candles, while around the walls large dark mirrors reflected back the image of her nakedness. 

"I want to thank you for keeping your side of the bargain so professionally," Vernon said. "I will in turn keep mine." He smiled at her. "You have a very beautiful body Andrea and I can see that it has excited you, exposing yourself to my friends." Andrea felt herself blushing. Vernon then reached out and gently rubbed his fingers over her extended nipples. Andrea groaned as his fingers sent a tingle of excitement through her body. 

His other hand reached down and he ran a finger slowly down the damp cleft of her exposed pussy, his inquisitive finger eased her lips apart and slid into the warm wet interior she shuddered and pressed her body against his hand. 

Andrea suddenly felt another presence in the room she looked over Vernon's shoulder and saw a handsome well built young man about her own age dressed in a long black cloak. Vernon moved away from her and took a seat on a comfortable sofa he watched as the young man approached Andrea. He stood in front of her looking at her naked beauty. He reached up and loosened the cord at his throat the cloak fell away; he too like Andrea was completely naked. 

His muscular body looked hard and well formed through lots of hard workouts, protruding and already semi hard, from between well-developed thighs his prick was already at least eight inches in length and growing rapidly. Andrea eyed him hungrily. 

By this time she was so aroused that the sight of the handsome naked young man only increased her hunger for her pent up desire to be satisfied. Deep in the depths of her lust filled mind she knew that the young man had probably been employed the millionaire to submit her to the final humiliation. Even so, the way she was now feeling she could not wait for him to take her, even if it was to be here in the presence of Vernon himself. 

The man approached her and soon his hands were exploring her willing body, she could not help crying out as his hands caressed her breasts and twisted her already painful nipples, she willingly parted her legs allowing him access to her most intimate delights. She squealed with pleasure has his fingers penetrated her soaking pussy and rolled the hard bud of her engorged clit under his fingers. 

He lowered her to the richly carpeted floor parted her legs with his knees and eased himself between them he gripped his now fully erect cock in his hand and ran it against her wet pussy lips slowly nudging them apart then he was thrusting into her. She had never felt so completely filled as her pussy wrapped around his throbbing member and he began a slow steady rhythm. She began thrusting up her body to meet his every stroke screaming with pleasure as multiple orgasms coursed through her body. 

At last his strokes slowed and she felt him growing inside her then he erupted filling her with his hot juices. He collapsed on top of her breathing hard, he leaned forward and kissed her breasts drawing her hard painful nipples into his mouth then he rolled off her and they lay there side by side for a moment their desires spent. 

Andrea lay there her eyes closed, with her pent up desires had been satisfied, she now began to realize just what she had done. Her naked performance in front of the audience had been bad enough, even though in the end it had aroused her so much, then to have to mix with the guests and allow them to inspect her nakedness at close quarters. Then this final act of humiliation to be actually taken in front of Vernon himself, how could she have let things come to this. 

She was aroused from her thoughts by hands on her body; the hands seemed to be lighter than before, she realized that these were not the hands of her lover. She shuddered slightly as they lightly ran up her inner thighs and stroked her soaking pussy; she couldn't believe it as she felt her body responding, she was beginning to feel aroused again she opened her eyes and looked down to see the young blond assistant, the one who had brought on her cello kneeling between her open thighs. Now the white dress had gone and she too was naked she leaned forward her firm young breasts hanging like ripe fruit, she lovingly began to clean up the juices running from Andreas abused pussy. Andrea groaned with pleasure as the young girls tongue expertly cleaned up every last drop and then began to work her own pleasure on the woman under her. 

The young man had also regained his composure he sat up and watched the girl giving Andrea obvious pleasure he got to his knees positioned himself behind the girl he gripped her thighs and thrust himself into her exposed pussy. Each time he thrust into her young body her face was pushed against Andrea's pussy and her tongue eagerly explored the delights it held. 

After he had satisfied his lust with the young blond he again turned his attention again to Andrea, she could not believe that he was so quickly available to take her again. This time he made her kneel as took her from the rear fucking her doggie style just as minutes before has he had just taken the young blond. 

This time he had positioned her so that she was facing Vernon as he sat on the sofa accompanied now by the young naked blond girl. Andrea could see him slowly caressing the girl's breasts as the young man thrust himself urgently into her more than willing body; she could feel her hanging breasts swinging with every thrust. 

For a moment as she pressed her bottom hard against him feeling his balls slap against her thighs she imagined her self in one of the many concert halls she had played in over the years doing what she was now doing in front of a packed audience. The thought made her orgasm wildly and he erupted into her at the same moment. They collapsed in a pile of writhing naked bodies on the floor. 

As she lay there the Andrea realized that the lights in the room seemed to get brighter. She looked around her and to her horror and amazement she saw that the mirrors in the room were slowly becoming transparent. Sitting all around them were Vernon's guests applauding wildly her second outstanding performance of the night? 



The Cellist



"Hey!" I shouted and reached over to grab them. "I'm a guy. They're briefs. Guys don't wear panties!"

"But they're hardly any bigger than what I wear so they must be panties."

"They're briefs, now give them here!"

We wrestled about for a moment or two until her body, actually her breasts, pressed up against me, and it felt as if my freshly laundered underwear was about to rip in two. Then she let go of the briefs but didn't move her body away from mine right away, letting the sharp points of her nipples rake against my chest. Then without another word, we went back to tending our laundry, putting some things in the dryers and saving the rest to air dry. Since she had started her laundry before me, by the time she was finished, I was still folding my t-shirts and Levis. She grabbed her laundry basket and edged toward the door.

"Well, have a good night," she said.

"Thanks. You too. You certainly made this a fun laundry night."

"Yeah. You too. We should do this again sometime."

"Yeah," I nodded.

"Bye, Professor."

"See ya!"

By the time I returned to my apartment, I could hear her playing the cello. Prokofiev I thought, but wasn't sure. Whoever the composer, it was a languid beautiful piece and she was playing it wonderfully. I sat and listened to every sensuous note emanate from her apartment for the better part of an hour. For obvious reasons, I pictured her still wearing the t-shirt and purple thong and that she was playing just for me. What a sexy image that drew in my head that followed me all the way into my dreams that night!

~~~~~

Over the next couple of weeks I saw Kirsten several times around town and on campus. I heard her playing the cello nearly every day, sometimes in the morning, but most often in the evening. I found her music to be absolutely soothing, the aural equivalent of a long hot bath. It was maybe a week later when I had come home late from a faculty meeting. A stout glass of bourbon found one hand and my reading book found the other while my ass found the seat of my favorite easy chair. Between the bourbon and the comfort of my chair, I was soon relaxed and enjoying Arthur Golden's delightful, Memoirs of a Geisha, a book I had wanted to read for some time and was enjoying immensely.

A few pages into my reading session I heard noises next door at Kirsten's apartment, her voice and one that sounded definitely masculine. So Kirsten has found herself a boyfriend, I thought. I took a sip of bourbon and felt my heart sink a little at the thought. I guess for some farfetched reason I had always fashioned myself as her lover and the pangs of jealousy and reality began to bite. I had been probably the first one to meet her around here. Yet, it was bound to happen sooner or later given what a cutie she was. I shifted position and tried to concentrate on the book, but the sounds of her sexy little giggles distracted me. 

Funny thing how you can never hear distinctly your neighbor's words in the apartment next door, but you know what's being said. It sounded like they were chatting for a while, a little flirting, some leading comments, a bit of teasing, followed by her sexy giggles and his turned-on laugh. The thought that she was making out with some guy drove me from my chair and into the kitchen away from the echoes of their encounter.

I sat at the table for a while reading and sipping my drink. The book was certainly drawing my interest. I had always been fascinated by other cultures and Japan before WWII was near the top of the list. But despite my interest in the progress of the book, my curiosity was soon getting the best of me and I returned to my living room in the hopes of catching up on how Kirsten's evening with her guy was coming along. Man, how low can a guy sink, I asked myself sadly, as I listened. But when I heard the sound of the guy's voice, an image popped directly into my head. He was moaning and grunting like ... like ... like she was giving him head. The image of her crouched between his knees, her pretty blonde head bobbing up and down on his cock captivated my mind. I'd hear her voice cooing briefly then his voice grunting and growling. Man, from the sound of him, she must be pretty damned good!

"Oh, fuck it! This is stupid!" I said aloud and returned to the kitchen. It wasn't long until even the extra distance the kitchen afforded me was overcome by the sound of them having sex, their muffled moans and cries and the insistent squeaking of her bedstead indisputable proof. Then came her voice, loud and urgent, sharp and clear at first and then muffled. For some reason I pictured her on all fours on the bed with her lover having her from behind. Her sighs and moans and screams punctuated by the loud creak of her bed. Then, just as she was really getting into it, the sounds reached a heady climax and suddenly ceased.

Quickly she was asking him something and his voice sounded contrite, apologetic even. Her tone was definitely accusatory and demanding. Then his voice grew loud and defiant. This went back and forth for a few minutes, their voices growing louder until I definitely heard her say, "Well, what the fuck?" followed by his, "Fuck you, bitch!" and the sound of her front door slamming shut.

Whoa! Was this guy an insensitive minuteman or what? Or did he just have a piss-poor attitude? Either way I felt sorry for Kirsten. I returned to my living room and leaned close to the wall. It was none of my fucking business whom she was fucking but I wondered what was going on with her. The answer came a moment later when I faintly heard her sniffling through the apartment wall. Poor kid! The guy must have been a complete asshole. Didn't matter who he was, I hated the guy. 

Then I heard the sound of her cello. It was a loud furious piece of unfamiliar music. The tone was a mixture of sadness and anger, for obvious reasons, almost enough to bring a tear to my eye. I went to the kitchen and refilled my glass of bourbon and stepped out onto my balcony. Her door must have been partly opened since the music was louder. I stood in the moonlight and sipped my bourbon and listened to pretty little Kirsten play her cello. Slowly the tenor of the music changed, the melody became lighter, dancing over the balmy summer night air, bringing a grin to my face. Then it grew slow and sensual. I stood in the moonlight and closed my eyes letting the beauty of her music wash over me. It cast a dreamy state over me and I relaxed, letting my mind wander freely.

I was stirred from my reverie when the music ceased. Then I heard the sound of her balcony door close and the lock snap tight. It was late and the thought of heading off to bed seemed best. I stripped down to my shorts and slipped onto the sheets. It was warm enough that I didn't need any covers. I just lay there and thought of Kirsten next door, dear sweet Kirsten who was so far from home and who knows, disappointed, disillusioned from her abortive encounter with some guy-some fucking Yankee idiot. Why are some guys like that anyway?

Then I heard her, ever so faintly through the apartment wall, softly sighing, breathing in and out in the excited pattern of ... of ... of someone masturbating. If the insensitive Mr. Wonderful she had dated tonight couldn't be bothered to get her off, she was going to do it herself. And from what I could tell, she seemed to be doing a good job of that too. So good that from the faint echoes of her moans and sighs I felt my own body respond. I pictured her sprawled across her bed, long legs spread apart, her panties pulled aside, and her long fingers plying the tender folds of her sex.

My erection grew painful and urgently needy so I lowered my shorts and began to stroke my long stiff cock. Listening to her voice, I imagined us together; my hands became her hands and her mouth and her pussy; and next door her hands were becoming my hands and my tongue and my cock. The result was sensational. Listening to her and imagining her lifted me to a heightened plateaus of increased sensation. The sound of her voice growing louder as she neared her orgasm brought me to the crest as well.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Fuck!" she cried out loudly enough for me to hear clearly. In my aroused state she sounded as if she were in the same room with me. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" she screamed.

Hearing her voice in the throes of a splendid orgasm pushed me over the edge and I erupted, shooting thick streams of cum into the air, the hot sticky semen splashing wildly onto my belly and thighs and the sheets. A heavy deep growl rumbled from between my lips as I pumped myself dry. Tremendous tingles reverberated through my body as I lay there panting and fully spent. I heard Kirsten's bed lurch and squeak once more and then silence fell over our respective apartments. Had she cum as magnificently as I had? Was she lying in bed as sweaty and spent as I was? I reached for some tissues and mopped myself up. I felt strangely alone, but my last thoughts of the day turned to the lovely girl next door and how much I wished to have her fall asleep in my arms.

~~~~~

One fine Saturday afternoon, I stepped out onto my balcony and leant on the railing feeling the warmth of the summer sun splash over my face and chest. I could hear the sound of-what else-classical music playing next door and looked over. When Kirsten appeared I greeted her.

"Great afternoon," I said.

"I know," she said. "I've been sunbathing most of the afternoon."

She stepped toward her railing fully into my line of sight and leaned forward to mirror my pose. She was wearing a skimpy little t-shirt and tiny bikini bottoms, Actually from the amount of ass cheek visible they were very little more than a v-string thong. Her breasts looked spectacular stretching against the thin fabric of her t-shirt.

"Any plans for tonight?" I asked.

"Actually no," she said. "You?"

I shook my head. "Not at the moment, but that could change."

"Oh," Kirsten said, a clear look of disappointment filling her pretty face. "Waiting on friends?"

"Actually I was waiting to ask if you wanted to do something."

"Then ask me."

"You want to do something?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Dinner, a long walk along the river, drop into the Nectarine for last call."

"We haven't done that in a while," she said with a big smile. "Are you asking me or just hinting around."

"Ah, I'm asking you," I replied. "Definitely asking you out. Yes."

"All right. Give me an hour to get all squeaky clean, ok?"

"Sounds great!"

I met Kirsten at the door to her place and she looked stunning. She had pulled her long blonde hair back and pinned it to the back of her head, leaving some sexy tendrils to frame her pretty face. She was dressed in a light pastel yellow print halter dress that framed her breasts exquisitely and sheathed her slender body alluringly.

"Wow! You look good enough to eat!" I remarked, wishing to come up with more than a well-worn cliché, but feeling completely at a loss for words because of her striking beauty.

"Well, thank you," she replied, treating me to a little spin around that lifted the hem of her dress for a moment showing off her shapely thighs. "And you look quite handsome in your seasoned professorial way."

The evening went smashing, as Kirsten might have put it. We found a great table outside and settled in to enjoy the balmy summer air and the al fresco ambience. Dinner was superb and the excellent food and delicious wine served to stimulate our other senses. Afterwards, we strolled along Main Street and up Liberty and dropped into the Nectarine Ballroom to catch a set of the live band, a favorite local group who had the place hopping. Bopping to the irrepressible beat on the dance floor with Kirsten was great fun. She impressed me with her stamina and I managed to keep up with her and avoided squashing her toes. Later, when we stepped out into the pleasant and refreshing night air, I felt invigorated as I haven't felt in years.

"So what's your pleasure?" I asked as I took her hand and we strolled along Liberty headed back toward our apartment complex.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased with a sexy grin. "Besides, you've been letting me pick everything tonight. What would you like to do?"

"Sure you want to hear?" I asked. "Who knows, I might want to commit some sort of weird depraved sexual act upon your delightfully sexy body."

"So now we're talking about sex are we?" she laughed.

"Now that you've brought it up," I began with a lecherously leering glint in my eyes. Kirsten smacked me on the arm. I took hold of her hand and paused under the glow of a streetlight, taking her into my arms face to face. "Actually, what I would really like to do is take you back to your place ..."

"And?"

"And have you perform for me."

"A long slow sexy strip tease?"

"No."

"A sensual and erotic lap dance?"

"Hey, who's talking about sex now?"

"You brought it up first."

"And you've kept it up," I said, feeling the thick length of my manhood press against her belly. "But in all seriousness, what I would really like is ..."

"Yes?" she said looking up into my eyes expectantly.

"What I would really like is for you to play your cello for me."

"Really? But you hear me all the time."

"Yes, but I'm always next door. I want to watch you as you play."

"You sure?"

"I can't think of a better way to cap off our evening."

"Okay, if that's what you want."

"I do. Very much."

Beneath the amber glow of the streetlight we kissed softly and tenderly. Her body felt so warm in my arms, I didn't want the kiss to ever end. But it did and we continued home to her apartment. Although her place laid out similar, it hardly resembled mine at all. Whereas mine was cluttered with books and papers and magazines, hers was clean and neat, well except for a pair of red satin panties tossed over the bedroom door handle that I couldn't help but notice, especially when she snatched them away and tossed them out of sight, her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Can I get you something to drink?" she asked.

"Sure Kirsty."

"Beer, wine, whiskey?"

"Glass of wine would be great."

While she poured the wine, I found my way into her living room. There was a small sofa and an end chair and of course her cello and music stand. I ran my fingers down over the neck of her instrument, feeling how smoothly the motion of her hand had polished the fine wood over the years. I couldn't resist plucking one of the strings and hearing an appropriate thump. She handed me a glass of wine, took a sip of hers and sat on the stool beside her cello.

"So what would you like to hear?" she asked.

"Whatever you want. I don't know your entire repertoire, but something lush and romantic, like what you usually play."

"Hmm, lush and romantic ... I have so many favorites, Granados, Fauré, Debussy, Pergolesi, Saint-Saëns?"

"I know Debussy and Saint-Saëns ... it doesn't matter. Something you know and like and think I would enjoy."

"Okay, let's see ..."

Kirsten ran her bow lightly over the strings, checking the tune and then she paused in thought. I waited a few moments and took a seat across the room from her and watched as her expression brightened and she assumed her playing position. Then she closed her eyes and began to play a sonorous and sensual melody that I didn't recognize, but it was lovely. With every note she seemed to draw me into a dream. The confines of her living room faded and I began to picture a lovely meadow and a stream in the French countryside, songbirds flitting about, a pair of lovers sharing a picnic luncheon, the sun filtering down through the shade of the trees, a pungent fertile smell of damp earth and green grass. 

I was strangely relaxed by her playing, but at the same time, I felt deeply aroused by the languid seductive sound of her instrument. In my mind, I could easily see the two of us as the lovers sprawled across the blanket in the meadow. The expression on Kirsten's face was beatific. Her eyes were closed and her head and body swayed as she stroked her bow back and forth over the strings, her fingers moving from position to position with ease. I was entirely captivated. Her blonde hair tumbled and splashed over her shoulders. As she drew her bow back and forth over the strings, I became aware of her breasts, held snuggly in the halter of her dress, the outline of her erect nipples plainly visible through the silky fabric.

I took a final sip of wine and set the glass down on the table beside my chair. For some reason I stood up and drifted aimlessly around the room. The tone of her instrument changed a bit with each step I took, the reflection of the sound off the walls coloring the music delightfully. I ended up standing behind Kirsten, having watched her from all angles. It felt as if her music was reaching inside me, caressing me inside and out. I took a step closer toward her, standing now just behind and to the side of her. I reached out and touched her hair as it cascaded down over her shoulders and over her golden tanned back.

Kirsten tilted her head slightly to acknowledge my touch but didn't miss a single note, not that I would have known anyway. Her music seemed to pick up depth and intensity, as if building up to a climax. My fingers combed through the hair on her back and brushed against her skin. I moved them up gently to her shoulder and let my other hand fall lightly to her other shoulders. She seemed to lean back into my hands as I touched her, caressing her soft smooth skin. She sighed when my hands trailed slowly down over her shoulders, following the drape of her halter. I felt as if the music was moving me, was begging me to reach out to her, and she didn't seem to mind in the slightest. In fact she appeared to enjoy my touch and it flavored her playing with an erotic taste.

When my wandering hands reached her breasts, Kirsten tilted her head back, eyes still closed, an expression of sheer bliss on her pretty face. While she continued to play, I let my fingertips dance lightly over the supple curves of her breasts, tracing lazy circles around her puckered aureoles. She swayed her head side to side in time with the music, baring for a moment the clasp of her halter behind her neck. I brought my hands up to the clasp and snapped it free, letting the straps fall down over her chest. Running my hands back down over her chest, I brushed her dress down to bare her breasts to my touch and felt the swell of her soft but firm flesh ease into my hands.

I stood behind her, cupping her breasts, strumming my fingers lightly over her taut erect nipples while she continued to play, her music becoming as overheated as our moment of passion. I bent forward and kissed her on the top of her head, drawing in the scent of her hair. With one hand, I brushed her hair over to one side of her neck, giving me clear access to her neck. I leaned further forward to kiss her on the neck just below the ear. She shuddered and sighed deeply when my hand rejoined its brother in scooping up her breasts and squeezing them ever so gently.

Kirsten let the bow fall away from the strings and her cello fell silent. She turned her head toward me and we met in a kiss, a tender brushing of the lips that quickly became wet and as deep as our tongues. It grew thoroughly heated, full of mashing lips and flickering tongues and nibbling teeth. I felt the heat of our breathing wash over my cheeks as Kirsten set her instrument aside and stood up into the fullness of my waiting embrace. Her hands went to the back of my neck, raking through my hair. My hands ran down along her back from her shoulders to the firm cheeks of her ass as she pressed her body tightly against mine. When my kisses returned toward her neck, she turned in my arms and leaned back against me, rubbing the firm cheeks of her ass against my thickening cock. My hands sought out the lushness of her breasts again, cupping them and squeezing them together.




The Cellist



"Oh, Professor?" she sighed.

"Mmm, yes?" I said as my hands squeezed her breasts firmly, gently pinching her hard nipples between my thumbs and forefingers.

"I've tried to seduce my audience a few time," she cooed softly and passionately. "But I've never been seduced by my audience before."

"And I've never seduced a cellist in the middle of her recital."

"Mmm, so you don't think any less of me do you, being here with you like this?"

"Not at all," I said as I continued to kiss her neck and flick my tongue near her ear. "Why would I? You are a desirable young woman and I've been waiting for someone like you to come along for so long."

"Mmm," she hummed. "Then I'm glad it's me who came along." Kirsten reached her hands up and back to comb her fingers through my hair as she leaned back against me.

As one of my hands continued to fondle her breast, my other hand glided down over her belly toward the mound of her sex. I felt her shiver as my fingers cupped her sex through the light material of her dress and panties, my fingers pressing through the thin fabrics and finding her slit. With both hands I reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it up until it was nearly to her waist. Then I eased a hand down between her legs, feeling her pussy through just her silken panties. She was warm and moist to the touch, the dampness of her arousal soaking through the thin silk. I rubbed her firmly, gliding my finger up and down the slit of her sex, paying careful attention to her clit.

"Oh, Professor! Professor!" she called out over and over as her body quivered from my strong touch.

"Mmm, Kirsten! You feel so good to me!" I answered. I want to give you so much pleasure!"

"Oh, yes! Pleasure me!"

I brought my hand up and then thrust it down inside her panties, finally feeling the soft tender folds of her bare sex. My finger circled her clit and then probed for her opening, finding the lips of her pussy dripping with arousal. Just as my finger entered her, Kirsten pushed away from me and turned to face me just a couple steps away. Her body swayed as she swung her head to the side, swishing her long silky blonde hair to one side. She slowly eased her dress down past her hips baring each luscious curve until it fell in a heap around her feet. I felt my cock twinge at the sight of her perfect shape.

I gasped at the sight of her, so young and beautiful, the lines of her immaculate body broken only by the tiny little silk panties. She backed up when I moved toward her, until she bumped up against a sturdy table in the hallway, her hands grasping at the edge of the table. I moved toward her and kissed her trembling lips. Then I slowly kissed my way down her body, kissing each curve, licking each line, sucking on her warm sweet skin. I suckled each nipple, drawing them into my mouth where my tongue laved them endlessly and let my teeth graze against her hard little buds.

"Oh, Professor!" she sighed, her voice thick with passion, her hands guiding my head downward to where she wanted me to go.

After teasing her navel I reached her panties. I pressed my nose against the damp silk, drawing in the scent of her excited sex. I kissed and licked her pussy through her panties, even gnawing on her folds hungrily. I was sure that she came at least once before I finally pushed the panties aside and kissed her sweet little bare pussy. Perching her ass on the hall table she lifted her legs and spread them, spreading her pussy like a dewy young blossom. I growled at the sweet taste of her nectar and ran my tongue all over her pussy, from her ass up to her clit and back again, over and over and over and over. My fingers probed her opening, one then two then three fingers entering her, turning and twisting madly as I sucked and nibbled on her clit.

"Professor! Chase! Chase! I'm ... I'm ... cumming!" she cried out. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

I could feel her body tremble and shake as her sweet juice seeped from her pussy, coating my chin and dribbling down my neck. I lapped at her hungrily, feeling her quiver again from another orgasmic tremor. She clamped her thighs tightly to my face, her legs looped up over my shoulders and hooked behind my neck. She held me so tightly to her quivering body that it felt as if she might smother me with her sweet little twat. Mmm, but what a way to go!

As her quaking orgasms began to fade, I finally managed to unwrap her legs from around my head and pull back for a healthy breath. I glanced up along her body toward her face. Her skin was rosy with the glow of arousal, the erect nipples of her firm breasts pointing upward, and her pretty face flushed. I helped her down from the tabletop and she stood in my embrace. Her kiss was wild and passionate; her tongue sought out mine, flicking at the traces of her wetness that coated my tongue and lips and face. Her hands glided over my body, tracing the outline of my chest muscles and shoulders, feeling my firm abs and butt, and finally settling on the thick lump of my manhood.

"Oh, Professor, you have been keeping something from me," she said with a husky devilish voice. Her fingers drew the outline of my cock that had grown its way down the leg of my boxers. "Mmm, you should know better than to keep something so urgent from me."

I stepped back and watched as Kirsten squatted down before me and ran her hands over my crotch. Her left hand explored where my cock lay underneath my clothes and stroked it firmly. Then she began to unfasten my belt and slacks and tugged them downward letting them drop to my ankles. Then she ran her fingers over my boxers, teasing and fondling my long thickening cock with her nails. She leaned forward and kissed me through the silk of my boxers, even nibbling on me gently, and chuckling when my cock twitched from the pleasure.

"Oh, Professor, you just keep getting so big!" she cooed as the strong fingers of her left hand played up and down my still clothed shaft.

"Well, I am a civilized man," I groaned, my eyes threatening to close from the intense sensations that Kirsten was introducing to my body. "When not needed, it packs up compactly. But when needed ..." I growled as she gripped me through the soft smooth silk fabric, "... it grows to the required length."

"Mmm, so I see," she giggled and slowly began to tug my boxers down. The waistband eased down from my hips, revealing the tuft of curly pubic hair that I kept and showing off the clean shaven base of my cock. It was pure torture as she took her time undressing my yearning cock, pulling the elastic down the shaft rubbing me until finally I popped free. "Oh, my, Professor! I see that I have my work cut out for me!" she giggled, leaning back as my cock waggled back and forth in her face. When my boxers settled down around my ankles, she curled her fingers around my cock. She kissed my belly as she stroked my cock, her strong fingers playing my shaft as if it were her cello.

Kirsten began to lick my cock, running her warm wet tongue up and down every side of my throbbing shaft until it was glistening with her saliva. She kissed the tip and let her pursed lips glide up and down the shaft, kissing and even nibbling it tenderly. Her hands stroked my slickened shaft slowly and firmly until dribbles of precum appeared. She licked at the tip and hummed in appreciation. Then Kirsten engulfed my cock head in her mouth, sucking wildly, taking me deep inside her hot wet mouth, her head bobbing deeply and slowly up and down until my cock began to pulsate. She tickled my balls with her long fingernails, and then squeezed them, feeling how they were firm and swollen with cum. I moaned appreciatively as she trickled her flickering tongue up and down my shaft, licking and sucking, sliding her wet lips all over me. Then she stopped and slid my cock tip around each of her erect nipples one at a time. As she licked the tip and squeezed it between her firm little tits, I slid it into her waiting mouth through her tightly clenched tits. I groaned more and more loudly grunting as my cock throbbed and I thrust it at her urgently.

"You want me, don't you, Professor?" she asked needlessly. "I can tell that you do."

Kirsten blew a warm stream of her breath across the tip of my rigid cock. Her lips parted and she kissed the head again, and then slid her lips slowly down the length of my shaft, her tongue wiggling back and forth on the underside. The way she squeezed my balls made me think that she wanted me to cum in her mouth and I was nearly ready to do so. But she slowly eased my cock from her mouth, stroking firmly with her hand, my member glazed and glistening. She rose up from her knees dragging my cock over her soft tender body, between her breasts, over her firm flat belly, and then directing it toward her damp silken panties as she stood in front of me.

"I know you want me," she whispered hoarsely as she continued to stroke me with her strong little hand. She rubbed the tip up and down along her sodden slit through the drenched panel of her panties.

"Oh god, Kirsten, I do," I groaned as my cock neared her hot wet entrance. I reached down and ran my hand underneath her panties. Her bare sex was dripping with excitement and I heard her moan as my finger probed her luscious opening. "And you want it too."

She nodded sweetly, her heavy lidded blue eyes glowing with anticipation. Pushing her toward the hallway wall, I removed my hand from inside her panties and lifted her leg up, opening up her pussy for what was to come. Kirsten rubbed my cock on herself and then used it like a finger to push aside her sopping panties. Once she brought it to her wet flesh I thrust my hips toward her pushing the head of my cock against her velvety vagina. Our eyes locked upon one another as I began to enter her, spreading her tight little pussy wide enough to admit my surging manhood. She leaned back against the wall and rocked her hips toward me, surrendering her body to the advance of my cock. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and she hooked her raised leg around my hips. 

"Feels ... so ... good!" she moaned loudly. "Oh, yes!"

I paused for a moment with just the head inside her, then rocked my hips back and forth just a bit to tease her opening. I could feel the hard little tip of her clit rub gently against my cock.

"You like this, Kirsty?" I whispered into her ear, continuing to rock my hips gently. I kissed her neck and nibbled at her ear. Glancing downward, I could see her nipples grow puckered and taut with excitement. Inch by inch I was easing my cock further inside her, plumbing the hot wet depths of her cunt, until I was completely buried within her warmth.

"Yes ... I love it!" she called out. "But I ... want you ... I want you to ... to fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

As she leaned back against the wall, I grabbed her sweet tight little ass, pulled my cock almost all the way out of her, and then began to thrust into her pussy. With long slow strong strokes, I began to pump inside her, and soon I was taking her hard and fast, making her body bounce and wiggle with every stroke. Harder and faster I began to fuck her and she cried out with pleasure each time our bodies smacked together. Her "ohs" and "ahs" were punctuated with profane words and dirty talk, which only served to drive me wilder and take her harder and faster. In the back of my mind I briefly remembered her previous misadventure and was trying my damnedest to make her forget it.

Our bodies were soon glistening from the heated sex that was driving us crazy with passion. I could feel her dampness trickling down over my balls and thighs. Then I felt her cling tightly to me, her voice calling in my ear, "Oh, fuck, yes! Yes, fuck me! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Her wet little pussy was clenched tightly around my long thick cock as she came again. I felt her bite me hard on the shoulder as her body quivered and quaked. "Mmm ... mmm ... mmm!" came her voice in muffled bursts as she buried her face in my shoulder.

As great as this had been, I wanted more so I stopped my thrusts and backed away from her slightly. Kirsten looked at me with a huge question mark flashing in her lust filled eyes. I quickly spun her around, nudged her toward the wall, and took hold of her hips, pulling her back toward me. Still in her heeled sandals, she rested her hands on the wall and glanced over her shoulder with a smile, knowing what I had in mind. I ran my hands down her back from her shoulders toward her waist and caught the gusset of her dainty thong panties. I pulled her thong to the side and thrust my cock up between the bare cheeks of her ass. When the head of my cock grazed along the wet slit of her pussy we both moaned with pleasure. She was hot and dripping and waiting for me, so my cock entered her quickly and plunged in up to hilt.

"Oh, god yes!" she cried out and I felt her clench her pussy tightly around me. I grasped her hips tightly and began to rock my hips, working my cock in and out of her. Looking down, I felt a great twinge of excitement in seeing my cock disappear between the firm round cheeks of her ass. The hot pink lips of her pussy were stretched wide as I thrust my thick cock in and out of her hard and fast. My belly smacked against her ass and my balls slapped against her clit. I reached up and cupped her firm little breasts, turning and twisting her hard erect nipples with my thumbs and fingers. Kirsten rocked her body back against me, matching my every move into her with an equally forceful push against me. 

As I grabbed her hips and began to fuck her wildly again, the cheeks of her ass spread slightly and I could see the tight little rosebud of her ass peeking at me. I eased a thumb up toward it and felt her wriggle when I brushed the tip against her puckered little flower. As I pressed the tip of my thumb against her, she began to moan louder and her pussy grasped me tighter. Her voice called out to me, not so much in words but with a lustful passion that drove me to take her all the harder, smacking her ass lightly, and pulling her hair, and slamming my cock into her with every ounce of strength that I could muster.

"Oh ... oh ... oh ... ah ... ah!" she moaned, reaching back to take my hands and pull my arms around her waist. She stood away from the wall and leaned back against me. I could feel her body trembling. "Oh, Jesus, Professor," she spoke, her voice trembling, almost as if laughing, her body convulsing with waves of pleasure.

We stood together, our bodies locked together tightly for several moments as our breathing settled close to normal. We swayed together as if caught in a sensual dance, our arms intertwining, our hands touching and caressing each other's hot sweaty body, and my cock buried deep inside her beautiful wet cunt. Then she began to shift, letting my still rigid cock slip from her sodden pussy, and she turned to face me. She looked up at me and we kissed hotly, our heated passion still not sated. She moved toward me, her glistening hot body pressing forward. I stumbled back from the hallway toward the lounge, and tumbled onto the sofa with Kirsten on top of me.

"Now I've got you right where I want you," she giggled and moved her legs to straddle me, her pussy just inches from my still hard cock. She bent down and kissed me, rubbing her firm breasts against my chest, the sharp points of her nipples raking my flesh. I reached up to touch them, feeling her warm firm flesh fill my hands as if they were made for them. Kirsten reached down to take my cock in her hands, stroking it as firmly as before. Her thumb circled the swollen head while her fingers curled around the shaft, pulling it, squeezing it, and stroking it.

"My, god! You have me so turned on!" I growled as she played my cock like a fine old cello.

"You like this?" she asked with an impish grin.

"Oh, god, yes!"

After stroking me until I again reached my full length and thickness, Kirsten raised her hips up, pulled her panties aside again, and positioned herself so that her pussy just touched the tip of my cock. She guided the mushy head back and forth along the slit of her pussy, circling her clit, rubbing along the soft wet lips of her sex. Then she moved it to her warm entrance and began to settle down on me, taking me inside her slowly, millimeter by millimeter. When her body finally landed on top of me I felt as if I was in heaven, this beautiful slim young woman perched so sexily on my lap, her pale body flush with arousal and glistening from the heat of our love-making.

"Kirsten, fuck me, baby!" I begged of her. "Ride me till I cum!"

She glanced down and smiled at me, then began to do just that, rising and lowering her pussy along the full length of my cock slowly at first but building up speed and force with every movement until she was bouncing madly atop me. Her firm little tits bounced crazily too and I reached up to cup them and squeeze them. For a few moments, she sat on me and ground her pussy against my body, then began to bounce up and down again. My hands slipped down from her breasts to her hips, guiding her up and down on me, and also giving me a hold from which I could thrust up into her.

"Yeah, baby! Ride me!" I growled loudly as I felt her juices drip down onto my belly and balls. She fell forward collapsing on top of me, her arms clutching at my shoulders, her nails digging into the flesh of my arms. I felt like I was on fire. I rocked my hips upward as hard and fast as I could, my body slapping against hers, our sweat mingling together, our bodies joined in a lustful sexual dance that was close to its climax.

"I'm ... I'm ... cumming!" she cried out. "Cum with me Chase ... Professor! I want to feel your cum inside me!"

"Oh, yeah!" I called out and rolled with her off the sofa onto the plush throw rug on the floor. She lifted her legs up and wrapped them around my waist as I plunged my cock into her as hard and deep and fast as I could. She screamed and kicked and bit wildly as her passions were released and I felt the flame of my hot cum burn its way up from deep in my loins. Surging through my body, it spurted deep inside her.

"Yes! Oh, god, yesssssssss!" she hissed with pleasure as my cum shot deep inside her. Our bodies were grinding and twisting together, milking every ounce of passion that this moment had produced.

"Mmm, baby!" I hummed as we rolled together on the rug, our arms and legs linked together, and our bodies glued together with the sweat of our lust.

"Professor," Kirsten sighed. "You've just made me realize how wonderful it is to have sex with an older man. You better watch out that I don't get spoiled."

"I know," I chuckled, sliding my cock back and forth inside her. "I guess a girl can get spoiled knowing that this is waiting for you next door any time you want."

"Well, I plan on taking advantage," she grinned sexily. "Every chance I get!"