It's enough for now

"How many was that?" you ask, as you stand up straight and massage feeling back into your wrist with your other hand.

"H-how many? I don't know, I didn't know I was supposed to count," says the tearful blonde.

"Well, then, I suppose we'll just have to start from scratch the next time I see you."

At this pronouncement, Helen breaks down, finally understanding that you are an implacable **** for discipline that cannot be appeased or ameliorated. You order her to kneel with her nose to the wall for ten minutes and then sleep on the floor for tonight. You forbid her to look at any clock or timepiece before the time is up and tell her that if she does, then she must start again and add five minutes. As she drags herself painfully into position, you become aware that her sister has returned and is looking on with approval.

Julia has changed into a black underbust corset that emphasizes her figure most pleasingly, flower-patterned suspender stockings framing her bare, sopping-wet sex and a pair of red-soled stilettos that even your fashion-starved brain recognizes as the work of a celebrated designer. Your date has also fixed her hair and makeup, chestnut tresses tumbling about her shoulders wantonly, lipstick matching her shoes and smoky eyes that scream naked lust.

You walk over to the college's women's tutor and take her in your arms, claiming a passionate kiss as your hands explore her exposed buttocks, breasts and stiff, pink nipples, drawing forth a rumbling moan of desire from deep within her. She backs away, drawing you with her into her bedroom. You have little interest in her furnishings, but notice that she has a four-poster bed in the split-second before you throw her onto it and yourself on top of her.

Whilst your tongues dance together once more, your hands are dragging off your jacket and unbuttoning your shirt. You break the kiss briefly to unbuckle your belt and open your fly, while Julia's nimble fingers hurriedly remove your shoes, before helping you divest yourself of your trousers and socks. She begins to fold them neatly, but you impatiently yank off your underwear and press the sultry brunette back onto the bed, your rampant manhood aimed squarely at her juicy slit. She spreads her thighs widely, inviting, almost begging you to enter her.

You plunge your whole length inside in one thrust, meeting no resistance from the silken sheath.

"Yes!" She cries out in ecstasy, wrapping her arms and powerful legs around you, lifting her hips from the bed to meet you with passionate urgency. "Oh, yes!"

You look deep into her eyes, seeing nothing but lust and desire, as you slam into her again and again, unable to control yourself in the face of her obvious need. She grips you like a glove, milking you with a skill surpassing any previous lover and after mere moments of pleasure, you find yourself approaching the peak. Julia is panting with exertion, the fine sheen of sweat on her skin only adding to her beauty in the moment.

Suddenly, she stiffens, a quiver running through her flesh from her nipples to her cleft, sending her tight cunt into spasms around your throbbing cock. It is too much for you and you start to spew your seed into her welcoming warmth as she grips you in a bear hug, her vaginal muscles squeezing every last drop from your shrinking prick.

"Yyyaaaarghhh!"

"Oh, yes, Jack, yes!" Your groan and Julia's cries form a strange harmony for a moment, before you collapse on top of her, exhausted.

"Thank-you, Jack," she whispers, as you nuzzle her neck affectionately. "That was wonderful."

"Did you cum?"

"No! I reached the edge, but I held back, I promise. I wouldn't climax without permission, I swear." She seems quite concerned by your well-meaning question and you hasten to reassure her.

"It's alright, I believe you. It was just very intense."

"Yes, it was, wasn't it?" Julia allows herself a satisfied smile, but as soon as you roll off her, she slides down between your legs and applies her mouth to your slimy prick. She is as skilled at this as at shagging and despite being many years her senior, you feel you could manage a second round if she continues a bit longer. Unfortunately, another problem with age rears its ugly head and you groan in frustration.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I just to use the bathroom, but it's so comfortable here that I don't want to move, that's all."

"Number one or number two?"

"Just a pee," you reply, slightly surprised by the personal question, although after what you've just shared, you don't suppose there's much point in being coy.

"Oh, no problem. I'll take care of that."