Leave with Blair

“I must go as well,” you tell Krystal. She looks disappointed but lets you depart.

Abigail, Spencer and Anissa are heading back to the school, but home for you doesn’t take you that way.

“I’ll come with you,” Blair tells you. “I’m going in the same direction.”

Walking with Blair is intimidating. She’s taller than you. And the way she looks at you makes you feel even smaller. All evening every time you caught her blue eyes looking at you it felt as if you being assessed, like a carnivore assesses its prey. You’re very much aware of her tight top and her tight trousers, that hide none of her curves, her breasts jutting upwards requiring a sports bra to defy gravity, her firm, fit ass. You walk for several minutes, trying frantically to think of things to say that can distract you from the way her ass bounces and the way her tits don’t. She smells of perfume and eroticism. Every time you look her way you see her blue eyes burning brightly into you.

“I’m down here,” you tell her as you reach your street. “Where are you?”

“Oh, the other side of town.”

“But you said you were walking this way?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I want to see this up close.” She needs to lean over to reach down and grope your groin. Any attempt to keep it under control is immediately lost. Her grasp is enough to stiffen it. “Krystal told me it was big, and I struggled to believe her. Men your size don’t tend to have cocks that big. But I caught a glimpse of it in the shower on Tuesday, and now I need to see it up close.”

Even if you wanted to there’s no way you could stop her from following you to your house, from following you up your drive, from following you inside. She’s practically pushing. You’re practically running. Only the rushing of all your blood to your cock slows you down.

Once through the door she’s dragging your trousers down, dragging your pants down, releasing it to the fresh air.

“Krystal didn’t lie,” she breathes in awe. Her hands reach out and grasp the shaft. She runs it up and down, tickling the bumps, feeling the veins popping out. “I need to try this. I need to try this. Where’s your bedroom.”

You stumble a reply, and she’s dragging you up the stairs cock first, dragging you into the bedroom. She pushes you onto the bed, your cock standing straight up. While she undoes her shoes, pulls down her tight lycra trousers followed by her thong, you kick off your shoes and wriggle out of your own trousers and underpants. She’s back, crawling over the bed towards you. She straddles you and smiles.

You reach up to push her top out of the way, to reveal her breasts. She slaps your face. “No, only if you’re a good boy.”

Her blue eyes brook no argument. She spits into her right hand and reaches down to wet her slit. Then she’s grasping your shaft and guiding it to her entrance. Once there she rubs it across her hole, uses it to flick her clit, and then slowly sinks down onto it. She’s hot, and wet and her pussy is like a vice composed of a thousand muscles all ready to squeeze all the pleasure she can from you.

She moans as she sinks. Her eyes fluttering up in her pleasure. When she’s sunk all the way down, she pauses, taking deep breaths. She looks down at you. “You are a good boy. Here’s your reward.”

She takes the hem of her top and lifts it over her breasts and over her head. Then she reaches round and unclips her sports bra. Her breasts are white and firm and don’t drop a centimetre when released. They jut out, proud and prominent. They’re calling to you. You must feel them. You reach out. She slaps your cheek again.

“No. No touching. You get to look. You don’t get to touch.” Her hands are on your wrists. She pushes them either side of your head. This makes her lean over you. Her breasts get so close you could lean up and lick them, taste them, devour them. But her eyes tell you don’t. So you hold still.

Then her hips begin to move. First a gentle rocking. The flesh of her vagina pressing against one side of your shaft, then the other. The muscles of her vagina squeezing, pleasing, teasing. Her flat stomach rolls to her action. Then she begins to ride you. Raising her hips slightly, descending back down. Initially only small movements, but the longer it goes on the bigger the shifts. Her breasts can no longer stay still. They’re rocking with each movement. They’re tantalising you even more. You must lean up. You must taste them. And her eyes are lost in her own pleasure. She’s focussed on her own movement

Its frantic now. She’s sliding most of the way up. She’s plunging all the way back down. The mattress beneath you is bouncing to her actions. The bed is creaking and groaning with the ferocity. You are creaking and groaning with the ferocity. Her grip on your wrists is even tighter, pushing you into the mattress. Her eyes are closed. Her breath is ragged.

Then her orgasm strikes. She screams its release. Her hips close around your shaft. Her pussy spasms. Each muscle, more muscles than you knew possible, clenching and releasing, massaging your penis, drawing out the seed from your balls. You gasp as you feel your balls boil. Her eyes open at the sound of your gasp. There’s anger in the blue.

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare. Hold on.”

You can’t hold on. You shoot your load inside her and she grunts her acceptance of it. She doesn’t slide off you until you’ve shot your final lot. She releases your wrists. She pulls off and kneels above you, letting your cum ooze out of her and down her thighs. Her blue eyes are awash with pleasure and disappointment.

“That was fun, a lot of fun, but no stamina.” She glances down at your slowly wilting cock. “Promising. Maybe I can train you.”

“What’s that mean?”

You pull yourself from the embrace of the mattress, propping yourself up on your elbows. Her blue eyes sparkle at your reaction.

“Yes, possibilities.”

“I got you to cum, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and then you came yourself.”

“Was I supposed to pull out. I couldn’t. You were on top of me.”

“Oh, no, that’s not a problem. I’ve got an IUD. But it didn’t last long.” She looks at her smartwatch. “Ten minutes. Not much of a workout. I’ll demand longer next time.”

“Next time?”

She climbs off the bed, picks up her bra and puts it on. “Yes, next time. You deserve a next time, but you’ve got to last longer.”

By the time you’ve processed what she said, she’s fully dressed and heading out the door.