She wants me to eat her under the desk

Ione hesitates a moment. She looks shy, and a little sheepish. “Would you—” she begins. “I’ve fantasized about having a man eating my pussy under my desk while I was working. I’m not going to go so far as to have a colleague come in—I wanted you here at this time because there’s no one else around—but—would you be willing to do that? I know it won’t be comfortable—”

“Ooooh, that’s hot,” I break in. “You’re right, it will be cramped, but that’s really fucking hot. You have an amazingly dirty mind for a professor, Ione. I like it.”

Ione’s face blazes with lustful anticipation as she leads me around her desk—her ass looks amazing in that tight skirt. I settle myself under the desk, then she sits in her chair and rolls into place. The chair has no arms, so it fits well under the desk.

I quickly realize that Ione’s skirt is a problem, because it’s too tight to just flip up. I start sliding it up her legs, and she lifts herself off the seat; I expect her to help me slide it, but it turns out the skirt has invisible zippers on both sides. She unzips both most of the way up, then settles back down. I flip up the front and bury my face in her panty-covered crotch. As I rub my nose and forehead along the line of her slit, I’m pleased to find that her panties are already quite wet. She smells of spice and musk, with a slight tangy note adding complexity. I’m starting to sound like a wine snob like Dad, I think, laughing at myself a little. I briefly entertain the idea of a rating system for pussies, complete with tasting notes, before I return my attention to the pussy before me.

Above my head, Ione has started dictating notes on something to do with physics. I can’t hear some of it clearly and don’t understand the rest, so I just let the sound flow over my ears. I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and pull gently; she wriggles and shimmies in her seat to help me get them off. I slide them down her legs, stroking and fondling her firm, elegant calves and thighs along the way. I lift first one heel-clad foot and then the other to get her panties all the way off, then stick them in my pocket. I don’t know if there’s any chance they could be seen if I just drop them, but I don’t want to take it.

I spread Ione’s knees wide and bend forward, bringing my face close to her bare twat. I open her up wider with my fingers; it’s pretty dim under the desk, but I can see her short, thick inner lips, and a clit which is large enough to have fully emerged from its hood. I puff air on her exposed pearl, and she jumps a little. The pitch of her voice jumps, too, but she doesn’t pause in her dictation. I stick three fingers in her quim, the index and ring fingers capturing her inner lips against my middle finger, and stroke the centerline of her slit from clit to cunt, tugging lightly on her lips as I go. Her voice roughens, but she keeps going.

When I stick my face in Ione’s twat, I begin to get more of a reaction. I lap up her girl-honey with a broad, flat tongue; she tastes sweeter than she smells, but the flavors of spice and musk are strong. I hum with pleasure at her taste, and she moans softly before clearing her throat and resuming her dictation. I’m just about to plunge my tongue into her honeypot when—contrary to Ione’s words—there’s a knock on the door. We both jump, and I freeze for a moment. She clears her throat again and calls, “Yes?”

A man’s voice comes through the door. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”

Well, I think, if this was part of her fantasy, I shouldn’t waste it. I dip my tongue just into the mouth of Ione’s cunt, teasing the rim, and shift a hand up to trace circles around her love button. I grab her leg with the other hand and begin massaging her firm thigh. Ione’s voice cracks a little as she tries to speak, but she converts it to a cough. She swats me under the desk, but I can tell her heart isn’t in it. She gathers herself and says, “I’m dictating notes—what do you want?”

“It’s about the departmental meeting,” the voice responds testily. “Ione, I need to talk to you right now.”

“Come in, Dr. Graham,” Ione says, managing to control her voice enough to sound resigned rather than—something else.

He comes in, and I can hear him sit down without asking. I plump my tongue up round and plunge it into Ione’s fuckhole. She twitches; she also clears her throat again to keep from betraying herself. He appears to be too full of himself (or his errand) to notice, because he goes right to business. I can feel her holding herself rigidly still as I pump her cunt with my tongue and tease her clit with my fingers; I can feel a very slight tremor as the tension builds in her muscles. Since orgasms are all about tension and release, that ought to make her climax all the better when she can allow herself to cum. I would love to do more to stimulate her, and I would love to be sucking her girl-honey from her pussy, but I know I can’t make any noise at all—even as I’m trying my best to get Ione to make noise.

Still, I can vary my tongue-work a little. I pull out, curl my tongue, and probe Ione’s depths again. This way, my tongue acts as a sluice for her nectar, allowing me to taste her without having to suck. I shimmy and flex my tongue in her cunt, and she wriggles a little despite herself; she can’t keep completely quiet, either, but manages to keep back all but a sotto voce squeak. Fortunately for her, her colleague likes the sound of his own voice, and she only has to offer a word or two here and there. She’s a woman of profound self-control, as she demonstrates yet further when I start rubbing the tip of her clit with one wet finger, but she’s close to breaking by the time her colleague finishes and stands up. He finally notices something, because when he reaches the door he turns back and asks, “Ione, are you well? You’re flushed, and you look a little shaky.”

Ione’s voice quavers slightly as she responds, “I don’t feel—normal, it’s true. I think it might be—something I ate.” Between her thighs, I grin at that. No, it’s something eating you, isn’t it? I think.

“Well,” he says doubtfully, but with some real concern, “get better.” With that, he’s gone.

I listen to his footsteps recede into the distance; by the tension in Ione’s body, I’m pretty sure she’s doing the same. When they’re almost too soft to hear, I flatten my tongue in her honeypot and start licking and rubbing the front wall of her cunt. As I find and stimulate her G-spot, I capture her clit between my thumb and forefinger and pinch it lightly. Her back arches and her whole body pulls to a point of almost impossible tension; then she whispers, “Ohhhhhh, fuuuuuuuck,” and detonates on my tongue. Her cunt clamps down and she drives her hips hard into my face as her orgasm explodes through her like an H-bomb. She writhes and thrashes as all that pent-up energy thunders wildly through her; she has lost control of her body to lust and ecstasy, and is utterly surrendered to sexual pleasure.

I’m amazed at how long Ione keeps cumming and cumming and cumming; but then, if she was telling the truth, her body has over a decade of denial built up. I’ve certainly never seen a woman cum this hard for this long, not even Jenna. It’s incredibly hot to see this hyper-controlled academic go this fucking crazy on my tongue.

When Ione’s climax finally starts to fade, I pull off her pussy. She sits in a daze for several moments, breathing hard and not speaking. I wait until I can feel her gathering herself to say something, and then I strike. I plunge two fingers hard into her cunt and start fucking her forcefully, applying as much pressure as I can to her G-spot. At the same time, I lock my lips on her pearl and suck it as hard and deep as I can, like I’m trying to suck it clean out of her body. She lets out a small, strangled scream and starts bucking her hips. She squirms and flails around under my relentless oral/digital ****, gasping, “Fuck—fuck—fuck—fuck—yeah—yeah—yeah—yeahhhh—ohhh, FUCK!”

From her earlier performance, I don’t think Ione’s normally a screamer, but she screams this time. She’s amazingly loud. There must not be anyone in earshot, because I don’t hear anyone come thundering down the hall to break down her door. Her second climax is absolutely overwhelming. Her cunt spasms hard enough it makes my fingers ache, and her body goes completely wild. It isn’t easy to keep my mouth fastened on her clit as she writhes, but I manage it without losing suction. I think she cums even longer this time; when it finally passes, she passes out.

Ione’s only out for a few moments before she stirs and whispers, “Andrew?”

“Yes, Ione?” I ask.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “That was . . . that was . . . I have no words for what that was. That was incredibly good beyond anything I’ve ever experienced before.” She rolls her chair back and says, “Come up here.” I stand up before her; with a look of voracious greed on her face, she unbuckles my belt, undoes my pants, and pulls them and my boxers down together with one violent motion. My throbbingly erect prick springs free, and she stares at it hungrily as I step out of the fabric bunched around my feet. Then she grabs my shirt and yanks upward; I raise my arms and she pulls it all the way off, then tosses it in the corner. She leans forward and delicately licks one of my nipples, making me shiver, then rubs a hand over my abs as she caresses my other nipple with her lips. “Nice,” she whispers.

Ione stands up, gestures to her chair, and says, “Sit down.” I sit; she lifts up the front of her skirt and straddles my lap, rubbing her bare, dripping quim along my hard shaft. She kisses me hard, murmuring at the taste of her pussy on my lips. When she breaks off the kiss, she says, “Take off my blouse. Take my tits, baby. I want to feel your hands on them—I want you to suck my nipples. Please, baby, take my tits.”