Julia’s Booty: Part 2

Study Group lab researches advanced techniques.

by Feynman15, in 4 parts, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.

 

Julie went directly back to sucking my cock head directly into her mouth. I threw my head back and groaned. And then without warning my eyes widened and my mouth fell open in shock as she pushed her head down and my cock slid all the way into her mouth into the back of her throat. It was like a suction of tight slippery warmth all the way down the base of my shaft. I was giving audible “uh”s of pleasure as Julia stayed locked onto my cock stuffed all the way into her throat, slightly bobbing up and down. She slid it out of her mouth and gasped with strings of saliva dangling between her and me.

“Oh my god,” she said. “I can totally do it!”

“Holy shit that was insane,” I said. “That was insane.”

She gathered the strings of dangling saliva with my cock like it was cotton candy, then rubbed that extra slippery spit all over my boner. “Hold on,” she said. And she swallowed my cock in one fluid motion and had her lips pressed against my pubic mound. I grabbed her ass cheeks and squeezed my pleasure into her flesh, and I couldn’t help my legs from involuntarily thrusting just a bit as she was fully engulfing my cock down her throat. She pulled out again with more saliva strings and said, “Yeah, do it.”

“Do what?” I asked.

She moaned and said, “Don’t make me say it! I’m shy, dude.”

“Please,” I said.

She looked at me in the mirror and said, “Fuck my throat.”

I got excited and said, “Oh, fuck yeah,” as I positioned myself just right.

“You can fuck it like it’s a cunt,” she said. Another moment to save for life.

I leaned a little bit to the left of her legs so I could watch my erect cock up and into her mouth, into her throat all the way. I thrusted into her, my balls flapping all the while. She was taking my cock really easily, and let out cute glug noises each time I got all the way in. I inhaled a big breath and started thrusting rapidly into her throat embrace. Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug.

“Ugh,” spilled out of me as I stopped the thrusts and pulled out of her mouth for a moment. I had a tingling and needed to hold my cock a moment, just in case I was about to cum. She opened again and I went back in. Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug-glug-glug.

I caught my breath. “Wanna know something sexy?” I asked.

Julia wiped a tear and asked, “What?”

“Think about yesterday when you told me you liked me,” I said. “And now look at what we’re doing together.” I lifted my cock back into her throat and pounded away.

She caught her breath. “You’re so bad,” she said. Glug lug lug lug.

I pulled out of her mouth and slid away from her, but kept her all fours doggy style. “And just to be clear, I really, really, really like you too,” I said. I got on my knees and buried my face in her from behind, suctioning between her cunt and ass. She yelled out a collection of “Oh my god”s as I ate her up fully. 

She turned around and we embraced in deep kisses that swirled our personal flavors back and forth. She got on her back and spread her legs wide, her hand now in between, and she said, “Cum with me.” She started fingering. I started stroking.

We were staring at each other intently and our heads were shaking while doing so because our hands were so busy below. I was biting my lip and staring into her gorgeous green eyes and the inevitable was at my doorstep. And as if on cue she started having short breaths of “Oh” that interrupted each of themselves, and her hand was rubbing furiously. Julia opened her green laser beams fully and I saw the glory and she melted into orgasm as those eyelids lowered their curtains. I was still jerking off hard but was ready to pop off any moment.

“Where; should; I; .”

“ in my mouth,” she said.

“Oh god.”

And Julia got up and I grabbed her head and guided the tip of my cock onto her resting tongue. And I pounded the base of my cock hard and a tingling within arose and the heat increased and I could feel my cum coursing through. I told her I was cumming and her mouth went bleh in anticipation and I spasmed jets of white liquid over and over and over and over at least 6 shots directly into her mouth as she moaned each time a squirt of cum went in.

She closed her lips onto my head and sucked in the last drops as I spasmed with that feeling you get when it’s too much and you can barely take it. Julia took it all in her mouth and swallowed while looking at me. Then she coughed a bit and told me it was salty. Oddly enough that moment of the sexual fantasy breaking into a harsher reality was an even further turn on for me. We both stood up and kissed.

And then in the time to follow we talked casually and allowed the conversation to turn into silences. But unlike before where they were a bit awkward, these moments were now relaxed and fun, and we reflected in silence on what just happened and would chuckle or say something like “wow” every now and then. When we started putting things back to the way they were, I grabbed our underwear from the bed.

“Can I keep these?” I asked, holding her soiled panties. The words escaped my mouth before my brain could catch up to stop them.

“Uh, why?” she asked.

I put them up to my face and inhaled her dirty musk. “Souvenir, I guess. Hold me over until next time.”

She giggled. “You gonna sniff those and jerk off to me?”

“Please?”

“Ok,” she said. “But what do I get?”

I started jerking myself without putting a thought to it. And then I had the thought that I was acting so impulsively in the presence of this girl. And that thought, the thought that she brought it out of me, was making the whole situation even hotter, and my dick got harder in the middle of it all.

“How about a little snack for the road?” I said.

Julia got on her knees and played an innocent face while sticking her tongue out. She nodded her head in approval.

“Feed me,” she said. Bleh.

My cock wasn’t even fully hard at that point, but I had a lingering horniness that wasn’t going to stop me. I slammed my hand hard onto my cock, and pretty much willed myself into a state of ecstasy as I felt the tingling again and I shot a couple more jets of hot semen directly into her mouth. “There you go.”

She smacked her lips as she finished me off. “It’s so hot that I got that out of you.” She got up and started putting her clothes back on.

“You make me want to do everything I can,” I said.

“Like lick my ass?” she said. She gave me a coy smile.

“That. And more,” I said.

She smiled. “I believe it.” She stood and did a little shimmy in place.

I felt great and was in such a light mood, so I then jokingly said, “So. Same time next week?”

And as she finished dressing herself she turned around and said, “Yes” in the most serious way possible. I looked at her and stared into her with lust, and my cock responded in that moment. She saw and returned the look of lust right back at me. It was intense. And I was hard, somehow. She crinkled her forehead a bit and said, “Aw. Did I just say the magic words?”

I nodded.

“Umm. You have some more cum for me?”

She crawled quickly over to me and I ripped my jeans and boxers off in a fury, and she opened her mouth and I shoved my cock into it. And the blood rushed to my cock in no time, and I started throat fucking her.

A few weeks later, and he hasn't heard a word from Julia!

There’s nothing quite like the exhaustion that comes with moving furniture. But if you have the right equipment and some good friends, you won’t be so gassed after moving a refrigerator up two steps. That was the situation I was in Wednesday afternoon, as my friends helped me move into my new place, my own house in a quiet neighborhood not too far from where I worked. We were done in a couple hours. There was a sense of accomplishment as we hung out afterwards hydrating and intoxicating ourselves. It was really nice to have their support, and nice to already feel at home with all of them around. But even with great friends, I always reach a point where it catches up to me and I’m exhausted from the interaction and I need to recharge my battery. Alone. That’s just the way that works best for me. 

After they left I sat on my backyard porch swing and cracked a beer. The blue sky dimmed as the sun set. The crickets serenaded the impending night. I stared at the brown picket directly ahead. Hopes and possibilities jumbled around in my head, thoughts of meeting neighbors and enjoying more independence and turning my house into a leveled-up sanctuary for comfort. But another feeling, in my gut, was one of nervousness, of anxiety over what’s to come, challenges with insurmountable odds and ambiguities and a player to be named later. It was time to shut it all off. Time to fully drain. I left the beer to the mosquitoes and shut the screen door behind me. There was a labyrinth of boxes that I worked through to the makeshift bedroom. I stumbled onto the bed and worked my boxers onto the floor.

Lucky guy, I was, to be able to access the memories and mementos of my sexual experiences. I reached into an unpacked bin and pulled out the pair of Julia’s soiled panties. My inhale was deep. Her scent was robust, cunt and ass and pheromones and a lingering scent that was both dirty and sweet. The smells triggered the memories instantaneously, where my cock twitched to the phantom feelings of Julia’s throat jerking it warm and wet.

Glug glug glug glug,
I came quickly and easily but felt frustrated afterwards. I hadn’t heard from her in 3 weeks. At the time of our hookup I told myself to expect nothing and be cool with it. I was truly fortunate, then, to play with her the way we did. Time is a revealer of deeper truths, however, and the truth was that I missed her. But what could I do? We had agreed a few weeks before that we couldn’t text or call each other, just to be safe. A part of me wanted to break this rule, but the fact she hadn’t, made me think texting would only make things worse. Another part of me was severely concerned that I had done something wrong. It was really difficult to shake that feeling.

The next day I encountered two other truths of life. The first is that life’s worries and concerns are very rarely as bad as we imagine them to be. Don’t get me wrong, life can be very difficult, and certainly easier for some than others. But our worries are often amplified by our imaginations when we have too much time and no one around. I realized this, yet again, when I opened my mail box and found a letter from Julia. It felt nice to know this was the first mail my new home received. But the other truth that I encountered is that you rarely get exactly what you want. I recognized this, as the personal letter I was expecting from Julia (; which in retrospect made no sense because who her age writes letters…) turned out to be an invitation from her family for her graduation ceremony. The fonts were swirly and there was gold glitter everywhere.

Some communication was better than none, I figured. But then I also thought, what if this had no input from Julia herself? She wrote her name on the card, but the fact hers was in dark red ink while theirs was in black told me she just signed it after the fact. Her family was just being nice, as they usually were with these types of things. Same reason I’d get an Amazon gift card from them come holidays. 

The more I thought about it, the more I reasoned her distance was a best-case scenario. Because, I mean, what if she ended up talking to them? What if she gained some new perspective and felt like I had taken advantage of her? What if, therefore, this was all a really elaborate setup? Was there a van outside my house listening in on me? Is there a graduation ceremony? Do kids graduate? What does that word even mean? And is her name even Julia?

Too much time. No one around. Too much time. No one around.

With too much time, at least, your mind can send you in the other direction. So as that moment passed, and the following days unfolded, I settled on the more stable viewpoint that I was worrying too much and things would be fine. There were no suspicious vehicles outside. Graduations were a thing. And Julia, who actually went by that name, was aware of the fact I was moving. Maybe she figured I’d be busy. She was busy too, of course. 

And so truthfully, when graduation Saturday came around everything felt okay. I ate some breakfast and took a shower and dressed up nicely. I even felt pride as I got ready, thinking about what I did to help her get to this point. It felt exciting to gather myself, dressed to the nines, and participate in the celebration. It was a welcoming feeling to slow-roll into the parking lot and saunter towards the gym. The school was really clean and there were balloons tied to everything. There was the sound of high heels echoing down hallways. Fresh baked cookies on trays, carried by a caravan of staff, to an undisclosed location.

Curiosity got the best of me and I followed the last in the cookie caravan down a hallway and around a corner when I bumped into a paunchy man in his 50s with curly black and gray hair. He wore 10 year old Merrell sneakers and had a vinyl record under his arm.

“Well how about that,” the man said. “Small world.”

“Jim!” I said. “So what’s the deal, I move away and now I can’t have a cookie?”

“Wait like the rest of ‘em you little shit,” he said. He reached out and gave me a half hug, careful with the vinyl record. I asked him what he was packing.

“I shit you not, this was a gift from some of the kids,” he said. “These kids, they can’t tell you a thing about music, but they can google, find discogs, find the exact version of a record down to the matrix. It’s impressive and it isn’t at the same time, you know?”

“It’s impressive Jim. You’re just old. You need a cookie or something. Get me one while you’re at it.”

“You’ll be too someday and I’ll haunt your ass,” he said. He handed me the record.

“Songs For My Father? I’m surprised you don’t have this one already.”

“Not this. It’s an original blue note. Rudy Van Gelder etching. It’s impressive, I must admit.”

He showed me its lack of imperfections with the enthusiasm of Christmas morning. “You know what I’ll be doing tonight,” he said.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Amaretto on the rocks?”

He laughed in an ostentatious sort of way. “A Van Gelder original deserves scotch. Neat.”

“Neat,” I said.

Cookie-less, I found my way to the gym and took one of the few remaining seats. The family I sat next to were warm. Their daughter played tennis with Julia and the father knew a lot about the French Open. The ceremonies were pleasant and everyone was safe. It all seemed so easy up to that point. At the end, the principal talked into the microphone and there was feedback noise that got the students too hyped. She eventually told us to head outside.

The gigantic field beyond the gym was known as the quad. The green felt never-ending. There were folding tables with gold and white striped sheets, and the drink bowls had ladles. The rumor was that the cookies were soon to arrive. Families were scattered in all directions. It was a very pleasant sight but I had a lot of trouble feeling comfortable as the inevitable dragged me down. But I reasoned that if there was an issue it would have happened already. Another student’s little brother found me and asked me to show him my tattoo and I did and he was funny. 

With less reluctance and more relaxation, I searched the sea of tall, long-haired girls with caps until I sighted my siren, posing for her dad who tried his best Scorsese impression with a Galaxy S series. When I arrived we all exchanged hugs and Julia felt warm and it felt okay. I scrutinized her face for anything, while keeping my cool, and she was very hard to read. We kept it light and Julia played with her hair in the maroon bow.

There was no sign of the worst-case scenario. It seemed like most of my concerns were self-inflicted, so as I realized this I was able to loosen up and enjoy their company. The conversation was light and flowing. I suppose one could say I was betraying their trust, but I was sincere and earnest with my job, and my experience with Julia was coming from a place of similar sincerity and mutual communication. At least that’s what I had convinced myself of.

And in that moment the thought was out-of-reach, floating far beyond the expanse of the grass. The day was bright and there were napkins loose in the light breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted another one of my students. I was beginning to feel that I should go, or that I was close to staying past my welcome, and I told them I should go say hi to some others. Julia’s mom offered tea if I were to come by in the summer and I was amicable. Julia took a break from playing with her hair bow and handed me a present.

“I, I mean we,” she said, “wanted to give this to you.”

“It’s nothing,” said Julia’s mom. “Really, could we perhaps give you something more? Do you like Apple or Samsung?”

“Mama I took care of it,” said Julia. “Remember?”

“Oh yes, yes,” said her mom. “Open it!”

It was a shadow box, it seemed, like the type you’d find in a Michael’s. The box was black and about the size of a football and heavier than you’d expect. And floating in the center, behind a pane of glass, was a miniature decoration, a sort of education-themed mashup of notebooks and binder paper, pens and pencils, a ruler, all with a swirling red ribbon throughout.

“This is so nice,” I said. “What a sweet gift. Thank you.”

Julia said, “You can take out the back and there’s a gift card there too. But it’s kinda annoying to, like, pop it back in. Hope you like puzzles.”

“Why’d you put it there?” asked her dad.

“So it’s all in one thing. I told you!” said Julia.

Her dad put his hand on my shoulder. “I used to feed lions, back when I was a young man like yourself. How blessed I am that I did!” He tapped his nose and laughed and Julia stared him down.

“She’s having a sleepover with friends,” said her mom. “We think it’s just an excuse. Anything to get away from us!” Both her parents laughed and I played along.

The gift was a kind gesture. But at the same time there was something about it that fell a bit flat, and it reminded me of the feeling I was having that very moment with Julia. She was being friendly, but in the way that she always did in the presence of her parents. I just could not read those heavy green eyes.

But I did say my goodbyes and lingered for a moment that felt like forever. I guess in the most clich d sense, I expected her to come running after me. Maybe more reasonably, accost me while I’m walking around. At the very least, I expected some sort of sign or indication or hint or subtle moment of inertia that told me something, some feeling, some acknowledgment that we could and would see each other again.

I walked to the parking lot feeling much different than before. I put the gift and a foil wrap of cookies on the passenger’s seat and closed the door and the slam felt bad. There was too much silence. The nervousness built back up in my belly. I felt sad and guilty and worried I had done her wrong, but also felt the urge to move on, and all the while a feeling of pride. It was too intense, too weird, too much. I put the pedal to the metal and scorched out of that parking lot at a solid 15mph.

Sleeves up, window down, glove compartment popped. I blazed a half joint heading home and cruised into the neighborhood warm and toasty. The boxes were still everywhere. The paint was still fresh. I mindlessly consumed half the cookies by the time I put the shadow box in the bedroom. My stomach was full but I still felt wrong. Issues of the heart, it seemed, hurt a particular kind of hurt no matter who it involved. And so I sat in my chair, staring at the box, thinking about the fact I was feeling the same feeling I’ve felt before in flings and interactions and relationships and undefined. It was actually a bit funny, and in a way felt comfortable. But I was also pissed and not high enough to be cool with it. And I wasn’t thinking. I kicked the shadow box from my seated position. The glass broke and pieces flew everywhere and I didn’t care.

The night was sultry. Sitting on the swing sometime later, I tapped the ash of a joint into my beer’s bottle cap. My thoughts went in loops that I forgot about and began again. I tapped the ash of the shadow box I didn’t care and began again, that I forgot The glass broke in a way felt comfortable. and I didn’t care. a bit funny the glass broke and it was everywhere and I didn’t care. My thoughts went in loops that I tapped the ash It was actually a bit funny to be cool with it and began again,. And I wasn’t thinking.

And the crickets serenaded the night.

Navigating boxes proved to be a challenge at that moment. When I finally found the right path to the bedroom, I was caught up in the excitement that I entered quickly and forgot about the glass shards. It pinched a bit, and while I scanned the carpet for all sorts of phantom pieces, I found the shadow box. The frame was broken and the back had a hole in it now. I reached my fingers inside and pulled out the gift card. There seemed to be insulation in the backing because there were some purple threads sticking out. I plucked at them and they resisted. I got a better grip and gave them a pure tug and the purple threads led way to a tiny curtain of purple, sliding out of the hole now into an entire bundle of purple. I unfurled the bundle and a pair of purple panties rested upon my palms.

Even in my current condition I thought I understood instantly, but I glanced at the bin and the originals were still there. It took another minute to gather myself and come to the realization that this wasn’t a marijuana-induced National Treasure fantasy, but the real fucking deal. My heart picked up and I played the floor is lava to my bed. My pants were off and my hands stayed busy rubbing myself above my boxers. Urged on by my heartbeat and lust, I dove the purple panties into my face. There was no question, it was her. The musk was incredibly fresh and it was still a bit damp where her cunt had been. There were stains all over. Her ass was strong and it was kinda filthy yet I was sprung. And if you’ve known it, it was a special kind of sprung, where it felt like your sexual energy wanted to burst out of you, but there was no fear of that actually happening and instead, you just felt rock hard and full.

She really went to town on these panties, I realized. Her scent was seriously strong. It didn’t stop me one moment from using the panties to jerk myself off a bit.  I looked down at my hand, imagining that she was there instead, imagining that bubbly ass stuffed in those panties but pulled to the side, going up and down on my steely dan. That’s when I noticed some black spots on the panties.

It looked like ink. It was fuzzy ink. It was Sharpie.

Instead of moving, I stared at the clock, like I needed evidence that I was in the real world. Convinced, I rode the chair over to a desk lamp and scrutinized the ink.

just in case;

Osaka→ #3928→ maroon

930pm sat :)



It was 920pm and I was speeding with the windows rolled down. I was still pretty toasted, which is probably why I had the faintest feeling that I was misinterpreting her message. But I kept going. What overshadowed those doubts was a feeling of inevitability, like everything was falling into place. Feeling that confident pushed me to reach into the glove compartment and light up another half-joint.

You don’t always get what you want. You might as well call that a truism. It very rarely works out the way you intend. But the thing about that, is that sometimes that’s just not true. Sometimes, far-fetched possibilities do work out the way you hope. It’s super, super rare, of course. But it does happen, where everything falls perfectly into place. They say the chances of winning the lottery are just as rare as being hit by an asteroid. But the thing is, there is that someone who manages the impossible and wins the lottery. And it happens more often than you’d think. And it’s one of those things where you can sense it the moment it begins, and it’s like you’re watching in slow motion as the choreography unfolds in front of your eyes and destiny becomes fulfilled.

At least that’s the way I felt that night, in that moment, as I pulled my car into Julia’s high school parking lot. I walked with an air underneath me, like I didn’t have a worry in the world. Maybe it’s because I knew that my old neighbor Jim Rossi, the head of school security, was a penny-pincher who wouldn’t dare ask his staff to cover the campus that night after giving them extra hours to cover for the graduation earlier in the day. Maybe it’s because I knew that he was immersed in Horace Silver and a bottle of Macallan 18 that very moment. Maybe it’s because I knew Julia’s favorite tennis player was Naomi Osaka. Or because she had spent countless nights training at those facilities, to the point that Jim knew it was far most cost-effective to grant a trustworthy student the code. Or the fact that she hated sleepovers and had ranted to me about that more than once. Or maybe, it was because of the father who I talked to at the graduation ceremony, who went on and on about the tennis facilities at the campus and in particular, the lounge room beyond the maroon door, which was modeled in the likeness of the lockers at Roland Garros.

Or maybe I was just high and this was all a coincidence. Those happen too. But I strolled the campus with no one around to the security door of the tennis facilities. 3928 on the keypad, the door open now, the door closed now. Down a hallway to a maroon door, a maroon handle, turned and opened and now standing inside the locker room. It felt minimalist in design. The carpet was beige and the lockers were a lighter beige framed by a dark brown wood. The lockers lined the walls in such a clean and simple way like standing in a Japanese tatami room. The room was low in height. The lights were warm and soft. There were eight plush white ottomans equally spaced on the carpet. Julia was sitting in a pretty spring-colored floral dress.

“I do like puzzles,” I said.

Julia ran up to me and gave me a strong hug. “I’m so happy!” She towered over me in high heels.

Even though I felt relieved at that moment, my state of highness had me in an interesting headspace. I thought about how lucky I was that it all worked out, but also about how easily it could have collapsed. The chance to finally see Julia after all these weeks, despite all these doubts and insecurities, hanging on by the thinnest of threads. And if everything didn’t fall into place just right, I might’ve never seen her again and possibly never known what on earth happened between us. These thoughts hit me all at once and I started to tear up.

“I; missed you,” I said. “I really, really missed you.”

Julia looked concerned and sat with me on the ottoman, stroking my hair. “Fuck, dude, I was worried this could happen.”

“Honestly, it was almost pure luck. I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

“But, but you knew we couldn’t talk,” she said.

 “I know, but; ”

“Did you think I didn’t like you anymore?” she asked.

“Yes! It crossed my mind more than once, to put it lightly.”

“Dude, I would have called you if it was like that,” she said. “I’m sorry, I get you’re upset right now, but dude, why would I ignore you after what we’ve done? Do you think what we did is that meaningless?”

“No! Not at all. But I didn’t have a single clue what was going on! And time goes by and doubts start to creep in.”

Julia put her hands in her lap and looked at me intently. “But, I did give you clues.”

I put my hands up. “I mean, the panties were awesome, Julia, don’t get me wrong. But honestly the only reason ”

“ what about the letter?” she asked.

“The graduation invite?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“What about it?” I asked. She stared at me and threw her hands up.

“Uh, what? First off I wrote my name in maroon ink. Then I put a shit ton of thick maroon arrows pointing to the giant cardboard O on the front of the card. Did you not find the letter I folded inside the O?"

I stared at her with my mouth slightly open.

“Oh my god, dude!” she said. “The letter says, like, everything. About my parents. They've been  on me, ya know? Like they’ve been saying I’ve been acting distracted. Then I talked about how I felt, then I told you about tonight, I told you; if it didn’t work out…” and suddenly Julia began to tear up. I felt further upset that we were both upset in the moment. I hugged her hard and we shared some moments of intimacy I liked as much as anything.

“Didn’t you wonder why my underwear said just in case?”

I put my head down. “I’m an idiot.”

"You were distracted today," she said, lifting my head back up. "I was playing with my maroon frickin hair bow the whole time. When mama mentioned the sleepover I gave you an obvious look, and you weren't even looking."

"I mean, I realized some of this later," I said. "But it was only because I found the panties."

We were both coming down from a cascade of tears into a calmer and warmer state. But we both saw within each other our sadness and frustrations over our miscommunications, and I think in that moment, we both understood each other and it was effortless to embrace and convey everything in our hug. Despite my previous adventures, despite all the sexual fervency and insanity that had come before, this was something that resonated with me on a very different level. I didn’t want to let go.

Julia softened her grip on me and we leaned into each other’s foreheads. She held my face with both hands and gave a faint mm, as if to say, no, this will not do, and she embraced my lips with hers, softly but with intent.

“Don’t forget this,” she said, “until we talk again.”

She asked if I understood and I said I did. The feelings washed over and rolled around and swung us into a moment fully present with each other. I kissed her, exhaling my worries through my nose. And when I reached my hand underneath her dress, her lips parted. Our tongues went at each other. And we could hear the noises now, how sloppy and wet our tonguing was, and it was turning us on even more as we realized we were turning our words and hugs into something much more sexual.

“Oh my god,” she said, as my hand explored and I kissed her on the neck.

We both looked around for a moment to bask in the silence and acknowledge the elephant in the room, that there was no elephant in the room. When we returned to each other’s eyes, I looked at her with hunger, and she devoured my soul with a radial burst of green. She was momentarily intimidating and scary, to the point I was reminded of Ananya. But Julia never gave the impression that she tiptoed into psychoville. She was intimate and vulnerable and the room was warm. I was getting hard, and when I remembered that I was still pretty blazed from before, it was almost like my body remembered as well, and took my erection to another level, the blood engorging my member as persistently as it could.

Julia kicked off her heels and slid backwards on the spacious ottoman. She spread her legs and rested her feet at opposite ends, her skirt now sliding up her light brown legs a bit, revealing a pair of lace maroon panties in between. 

“Come,” she said. I slid up between her and we kissed. She felt so amazing to kiss. It felt like it was where I was supposed to be, returning once again to where I had been many lives before, throughout the centuries. Maybe that’s a bit odd, but it felt so certain in the moment. She wrapped her legs around my back and I did the same to her. Her heat was close to my heat and I couldn’t help but inhale the cunt musk that was wafting up into my face. 

 

She giggled through the kisses. “You’re a bit of a weirdo, dude. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Yes,” I said. We laughed. She put her arms over my shoulders.

“I missed your tongue on me,” she whispered. I could tell that there was a bit of hesitation to her words, like she wasn’t fully comfortable with being so explicit and direct with her sexual feelings. That inexperience was cute and propelled me to take the lead.

“I missed your throat,” I said much louder. “I missed it jerking me nice and wet.”

Her eyes widened and she belted a laugh before giving me a playful slap on the chest. “Dude! You’re so bad! You make me blush when you talk like that.”

I smiled. “But you missed it too.” I rubbed her hips as we continued to embrace, legs interlocked behind each other’s backs. “Tell me about it.”

Julia giggled, flung her head back, then returned face-to-face. “I missed; oh god, I missed; your dick.” She looked around like someone was listening to us.

“Oh yeah?”

She took a breath then abandoned her wandering eyes and stared me down. “Alright, dude, you know what? I do. I really fucking do." She took another exhale. "I missed it sliding all the way down my throat,” she said. “I liked it when you fucked my face, you know?” And she said fucked louder and more aggressive, like she was finally letting go of her inhibitions. “When you fucked in like it was my pussy.”

I couldn’t hold back any longer. She was too much. Before she even finished her words I popped off the ottoman and started frantically undoing my belt. And she understood. She licked her lips and sat up on the edge of the ottoman, watching me unhook the belt, then drop my pants, then drop my boxers, exposing the hardest erection I think I’ve ever had. Her heavy eyelids lifted for just a moment, a flash of green, her body language saying whoa but the rest of her staying silent all the while. And I held the base of my dick and pulsed horniness, and she looked at it and looked at me with her mouth parted ever-so-slightly.

“You mean like this?” I said, palming the back of her head and guiding my cock towards her beautiful pillowy lips. She looked up at me with desperate eyes, her tongue now out, a soft moan of eh. It was a gorgeous sight, watching her grab my cock away from me, open her mouth, and allow my pulsing rock-hard fuckstick to slide into her, the inches disappearing, all the way down now directly into the depths of her throat. The fact that she didn’t even kiss it or lick it or do any semblance of foreplay before directly taking it deep-throat was so hot that when my cock fell all the way into her, my pubic mound fully against her face, I held her head with both hands and pulsed my hardness even harder inside her. She coughed and I pulled it out right at that moment, thick strings of saliva clinging between my cock and her lips as she caught her breath and smiled at me upon dismount.

I stood her up and kissed her, my beard stubble pressing into her soft cheeks. “You are all I need, ever.”

She dropped to her knees in front of the ottoman. “Let’s go, dude.” Bleh.

“Oh fuck yeah,” I said, sliding all the way back in. Glug lug lug.

She pulled off and caught her breath again and scooted on her knees right back up to me, grasping both my ass cheeks hard. I could see the fire. No wonder she was so damn good at tennis, I realized. “Use me,” she said. “Use my throat.”

I was throat-fucking her so fast that a white froth started forming on my dick from our friction. It was insanity. Combined with my highness, the feeling of her hot wet throat sliding up and down my shaft was so intense that I stumbled backwards a bit while she went at me. But Julia didn’t let up, staying glued to my cock. When I stumbled she took her hand and used her head to push me back and against the beige lockers. It actually hurt a bit but I didn’t have a care in the world.

“Holy fucking shit,” I dribbled out incoherently.

Julia was being so aggressive, like the athlete she was, using her head to basically head-butt my crotch into the locker as she kept my cock fully in her throat all the while. How on earth she was able to do it comfortably, I did not understand. And the sounds of sex and rattling locker doors echoed throughout the room. It felt like every pulse of my cock was leaking out pre-cum. I tried to reach my hands out to Julia to get her to slow down, but she’d swallow my cock immediately and I’d lose my constitution as my senses overwhelmed. And soon I was gasping for air, my arms against the walls of lockers, like I was getting punched and couldn’t catch my breath to stop it. And it was beautiful and in a moment of clarity I realized how dedicated she was to pleasing me and I understood her. My toes started to curl and ripples of pleasure ran up my legs and a tingling within my cock was escalating and unstoppable. I felt uninhibited and knew we were alone, so I held nothing back and yelled with pleasure.

I got my hands off the locker and onto her head. “I’m fucking cumming. Uh uh uh uh uh uh uh uh.”  

My cock twitched and pulsed and spewed out burst after burst after burst of hot cum, into her throat and mouth. Julia coughed and I pulled out, shooting two more loads of cum onto her face as cum bubbles dribbled out of her mouth. It was a total mess but Julia guided it all back into her mouth, and sucked the tip of my dick to get every last drop. She stood up and swallowed now, while looking at me with a blaze of green glory.

To be continued in part 3, by Feynman15 for Sex Stories.