Tiffini’s letter

“Before I forget,” Kimberly says, “I told you Tiffini had written you a letter, but I need to actually give it to you.” She handed it to me and said, “If you want to read it now, go ahead.” So I do.

*****

Mr. Lane, I want to let you know how I made out with Marc. (Take that every way you can think of.) Thank you for telling me what I should do.

I invited him over to study, but before he came, I turned up the heat a little. I bought myself a new bra and panty set—black mesh with patterns on it. It’s cut low and pretty much see-through, and the bra doesn’t keep my nipples in. I wore the lowest-neckline shirt I have. I was so excited by the time Marc got here, you could see my nipples clearly through the shirt. Marc certainly did. He saw me, and I thought he was going to trip over his own feet. More than my cleavage, he was looking at my nipples—I was close enough, I could tell. That’s when I was sure you were right. But he managed to tear his eyes away and come inside.

We sat down—I sat snugged up right against him, which I do sometimes—and studied for a little while. I was watching him out of the corner of my eye, so I could see him sneaking peeks at my tits when he didn’t think I’d notice. I noticed, all right. My nipples kept getting harder, and my pussy was getting really wet.

In between problems, I asked Marc if he was getting too warm. He looked at me, puzzled, and said it was a little warm but not too bad. I told him I was starting to get uncomfortable and asked if he’d mind if I took off my shirt. His eyes went really wide and his jaw dropped a little; it was adorable. I had to try really hard not to laugh. He finally managed to say, “Ummm, no—that—that would be—fine.”

“OK, thanks,” I said, and took my shirt off. I made sure to catch my boobs in my shirt so they would bounce nicely when I pulled it over my head. When I could see Marc again, he looked stunned, and he couldn’t stop staring. “Marc,” I said, “you’re staring.” He got really red and started tripping over his tongue to apologize. I laid a hand on his arm and told him it was OK. “Do you really like what you see?” I asked him. He just looked at me like he was afraid to answer the question. “It’s OK,” I told him, “if you don’t like them, you can say so, I won’t be offended.” Of course, I would have been—and hurt—but I knew that wasn’t happening. His eyes went even wider then, he looked alarmed, and he said, “No, no, they’re perfect. They’re absolutely perfect.”

“Really?” I said, pretending to be surprised. I cupped them in my hands and lifted them, and Marc looked like he might faint. “You don’t think they’re too big?” He shook his head. “No, they’re the perfect size. I like—” Then he looked panicked. “You like big tits?” I asked him with a big smile. “Is that what you were going to say?” He nodded. “You like big titties like mine?” He nodded again, slowly. “Then why don’t you touch them?” I asked him.

Marc looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. He was tentative at first, but when I purred at every touch—it just felt so good to have his hands on my boobs—he got bolder. He wanted to touch them all over. I helped him figure out what I like best, and after a while he was doing some of everything. He stroked my tits, he squeezed them, he played with my nipples and pinched them a little, and all the time my pussy got wetter and wetter. Finally, I said, “Marc, I need you to do something for me. Put your hands down for a minute.” He put them down, looking really upset. I think he thought he’d done something wrong. When I took off my bra and threw it across the room, the look of joy on his face was almost enough to make me cum right there. I grabbed his head and pulled it to one of my boobs and said, “Kiss me.”

He was less tentative this time. I think he was too turned on to be tentative, but he still went slowly. Pretty soon he was going back and forth between my nipples, licking and sucking them, and playing with both my big titties. I was in heaven. Then I looked at his pants and wondered how I’d missed the size of that bulge—not just then, but all the time I’ve known Marc. I reached out and stroked it through his pants, and he jumped. “It’s not fair, Marc,” I said. “You’re holding out on me. I’m half-naked and you still have all your clothes on.” He started to stammer and I asked him, “May I take off your pants?” He said yes, so I told him to stand up. I undid his pants, and then I grabbed his pants and boxers and pulled them all off together. He tried to cover himself, but I wouldn’t let him. “It’s huge,” I told him. “It is?” he asked. He was surprised. His cock isn’t as big as yours, but it’s pretty close. “May I touch it?” I asked. He looked awed and said, “Sure.”

I used both hands. I had one hand playing with his head, stroking it all over, and the other fondling his balls. Marc started groaning. When I saw him looking down at me, I wiped the pre-cum off his head with two fingers and popped them in my mouth. He groaned even more at that. “Mmmm,” I said. He really did taste good—not as sweet as you, but salty and nice. “May I?” I said, but I didn’t wait for permission, I leaned down and started kissing his cockhead. He moaned my name over and over. I licked all over it, especially the groove and the tip like you taught me, and sucked on the head. “Tiffini,” he said, “I’m—I’m—”

You should be proud of me. I’ve been practicing with bananas and cucumbers and I’ve gotten pretty good really quickly. I swallowed his cock and squeezed it with my throat. “I’m gonna cum!” Marc shouted. I think he expected me to get away or something. I pulled off and went back to sucking on the head, and he blew in my mouth. I swallowed it all, but first I opened my mouth like you said and showed him his cum on my tongue. Marc looked at me like I’m a goddess. It was wonderful.

I pulled his shirt over his head. He didn’t resist. Then I took off my pants and lay down on the couch. “Now it’s your turn, baby,” I said. Marc turned bright red when I called him that. “Take off my panties, and I’m going to teach you how to eat me.” I knew I was in love when I saw his reaction: he looked excited and thrilled. He pulled my panties off and bent down, and this time I did have to tell him to slow down, because I think he wanted to eat me all at once. He spent a long time down there. I told him what to do, and helped him find my clit, and you’re right, he’s not as good as you, but he was so into it, it didn’t matter all that much. He wanted to do anything and everything to make me cum, whatever I told him, he loved all of it. He told me again and again how good I taste—he said I taste like his mother’s fruit bread, only better. I thought that was really sweet. He worshiped my pussy. He’s still clumsy, but he made me cum three times.

When I told him to stop, he looked like I was depriving him terribly. I pulled him up and grabbed his cock. He jumped. I said, “You’re nice and long and hard again, and as much as I love your mouth on my pussy, I want this thing inside me even more.” I wouldn’t have thought it was possible for Marc to look any happier, but he did. I told him to lie on his back and I’d do all the work for our first time. I’d never tried the cowgirl position any more than he had, but I spent some time watching porn videos to figure out what to do. I straddled him, and used a hand to hold his dick steady while I came down on him. It took a while to work him all the way in; he spent the entire time telling me how incredible my pussy felt, how sexy I am, how much he loves my tits, how long he’s been dreaming about me . . . I loved hearing all of it. I also loved the way he played with my tits the whole time.

Once I had Marc’s cock worked all the way into my pussy, though, I had to shut him up. Not because I didn’t want to hear it, but because I badly wanted to kiss him. So I did, and he wrapped his arms around me, and we spent a while like that, holding each other and kissing, with his cock filling my pussy. Then I sat back up some, but not too much, so I could swing my big titties in front of his face. He squeezed and stroked them and pinched my nipples and sucked on them as much as he could, and I started moving. I didn’t think he’d last any time at all, but he was determined to. I came twice riding his cock before he finally came with me the third time. He told me he wanted to hang on as long as he could, and actually apologized for only giving me three orgasms. I told him it was amazing, and he was amazing, and I loved his cock. Then I went down on him and licked and sucked all our cum off his dick until he was long and hard again.

“Tiffini?” he said. I looked up. He looked anxious. “Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now? Or is this just a one-time thing for some reason?” I asked him, “Do you want me?” He said yes, in fact he almost shouted it, and I said, “Because I want you. So if you want me, then yes, I’m your girlfriend.” He relaxed and looked almost as good as he had when he came. “I don’t want anything else,” he said.

“I do,” I told him. He looked surprised and worried at that. “What?” he asked. I told him, “I want you to get off the couch . . .” He did, still looking concerned. I lay down and spread my legs wide, one foot on the floor and one on the back, and said, “. . . and come fuck me again.”

Well, I don’t need to go into detail about all of it. I’m glad Kimberly was gone overnight that night, because Marc slept over—well, he stayed over, but he didn’t sleep much, because we fucked like bunnies pretty much the whole time he was here. We never did finish studying, except each other’s anatomy. Not that we’re really finished with that either. But I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life, and it’s all thanks to you.

Gratefully yours,

Tiffini Daniels

*****

“Well?” Kimberly asks.

“Well, if all else fails, I think she has a real future writing porn,” I tell her. Kimberly flinches, then starts laughing.