On Tuesday I invited you to tap your right leg twice to volunteer to taste the sweet essence that Heather had left from her shenanigans that morning. I was impressed with your response, and am so delighted that so amny of you have chosen to gander at my new blog and offer your moist, supple lips. To the young blond on the sidewalk next to the student center with the dark tight jeans and flowers stitched onto the back pockets, you have my attention. I'd like to see more of you.
Alright, our story begins as you were standing in line for lunch against the long brick wall. Your left shoulder was leaning against the bricks and the line was stalled. You saw me just as I walked up the stairs and I immediately recognized your brown skin and wavy black hair. I had seen you around a few times since the first day of class, and immediately found your figure distinctive and exotic. Broad shoulders, slim waist, and lovely round ass. Your black tights and white t-shirt suggested you were either coming from a workout or on your way to dance class or something. Very sporty, very hot. You knew I would be watching you. But first, I needed to proceed past the line, weighing my options...
You girls are too subtle. Kendra, a rubbing motion and eye contact is not the same as two taps. This was a one-time offer, non-exchangeable. Girl with the pink bag, you needed to tap two times, one...two, not rhythmically, as if you're just tapping to music. I need to know for sure, or this doesn't work. You have killer legs. Don't give up! There were two others, you know who you are, and then there was you, my little Asian fuck slave. "Please tap," I thought as I walked past, head down, watching her hand resting against her tight black pants. I had almost passed, and there it was, one, two. I continued for a few steps and then looked back. "Gotcha!" I thought as you looked back. I smiled and walked back and looked at the mouth that would be sucking my cock. I approached you, took your hand, and whispered into your ear. Do you remember what I said? Something like "time for lunch you dirty cum slut." I know, it's bad, but I'm a bad, bad, man who was about to receive fellatio from a woman with which I had never spoken. My kind of girl.
We walked downstairs and into one of the back storage areas (or somewhere around there and no I'm not telling). I closed the door and whispered into her ear again: "don't say a word, just suck Heather's cunt off my hard cock." She nodded and took a knee in front of me as I pulled my love sausage out of my pants. She immediately held the base with her left hand and rested my semi on her extended tongue. She looked up at me as she coaxed the relaxed shaft into her open mouth. Finally, she closed her mouth and applied that slight suction that verifies she is about to do a very thorough job. She moaned, as if tasting the most delectable culinary treat, and then closed her eyes and persisted to slide my hardening shaft deep against the back of her throat. I encouraged her: "suck Heather's cunt of my cock you dirty slut." I know, bad Mag. With skill, she slobbered enough to take me in her hand and stroke me with skill and aplomb. I wish I could give her credit by name, but she prefers an alias, so let's call her Lin. Lin's hands were like sweet butter, jacking the last of Heather's dried fuck sauce off my stiff cock as tiny drops of saliva and precum spattered about. I knew I wasn't going to fuck her, as tempting as it was. No papers, no penetration. So, I had her remove her shirt and sports bra, and then verbalized more words of encouragement as she resumed her feast: "jack that cock all over those tits you dirty cum slut." That got her going, and Lin did as told.
I got this shot off as my delivery dribbled toward her pants, and just in time. Being conscious of her delightfully smooth skin, she wasted no time rubbing it into her belly and breasts. (So that's how they do it!) Then, she put on her bra and shirt, smiled, and we both walked out to resume our regularly scheduled academic career. I kinda felt bad she didn't have time for a proper lunch. I'll make it up to her next time.
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