Annabelle and James Pt. 02

Annabelle and James: Part II

Looking out over the Harbour

Annabelle was panting hard, her thighs still pressing into either side of my head. Her hands relaxed in my hair, unfurling from frantic a grip to a gentle stroke. Finally, with a sigh that fell into a moan, her thighs relaxed. She lifted them from my shoulders and sat up, looking down at me. Her cheeks were flushed, and her glasses were a little askew. She was looking down at me with a look that I can only describe as hungry.

"That was lovely, James," she purred. "In fact, I'd like to return the favour. Be a good boy... stand up for me."

She put her hands behind her, leaning back as I got to my feet. Once I was standing, she leaned forward again. One hand snaked over my shoulder, to the nape of my neck, and ushered me forward. The other hand slipped down to rub the erection that was now hard enough to cause discomfort, straining against my jeans.

She kissed me, and it was unlike any kiss I'd had before. At first I thought it just felt heightened because of the circumstances, but no, she was so different from any other woman I'd kissed. She was firm, kissing me with purpose, exploring my lips and tongue. But it was also gentle... it lacked the furtive, aggressive kisses I was used to in these sorts of moments. As she played her tongue along mine, I felt like she could spend an entire night tasting and teasing me this way. Meanwhile the hand on my neck was light, playing with my hair, tickling the back of my ear. At one point I flinched, and she laughed a little, then bit my bottom lip. I gasped a little, and she murmured through those bared teeth, "Mhmm." As if to say that's right... you're mine now. Mine to play with until you can't take it anymore.

Her other hand was very slowly rubbing up and down the bulge in my pants. At one point she drew her plain, professional nails over it, and the sensation made me buckle.

She laughed again, "Oh you poor thing. You're wound so tight." Her smile slipped away, and her face became suddenly serious. "I don't know what it is James... these last few weeks all I can think about is doing things with you..."

She unbuckled my belt.

"Things that I haven't done in years..."

She popped the button of my fly. Drew down the zip.

"Things I've never done before at all..."

Voices drifted under the door. We both whipped our heads around, frozen, and stared, expecting a security guard or some random students to burst in. Footsteps approached... then passed by.

Still watching the door, Annabelle slipped off the desk and sank to her knees in front of me. Then she looked up, tilting her head back. She slipped off her glasses, folding them, placing them on the desk behind her. She met my gaze. I expected her to look younger without the glasses, but she didn't. She just looked... less encumbered. Liberated.

She curled her fingers into my waistband, and I felt her cool knuckles against my hips.

"James," she murmured, still gazing up at me, "If you want me to stop, you can tell me. I'll stop. You're safe."

I swallowed. My head was light, and my chest felt like there wasn't enough room for my racing heart. I finally managed to whisper, "Don't stop."

She pulled my pants, underwear and all, down, just enough to let my cock spring free. I don't know why, but I felt embarrassed to see precum smeared on the inside of my underwear. But that thought was driven from my head as Annabelle wrapped her soft, elegant fingers around my shaft. She stroked it, slowly. She seemed like she was admiring my cock, a part of my body I'd personally given very little thought to beyond some shame and envy at others' size. I can't know what Annabelle thought. I only what she did. She leaned forward and kissed the tip, the same way she had kissed my mouth. She continued down the length of my shaft, then started again at the tip and made her way down the other side.

Then she stuck out her tongue and ran it up the underside. I gasped, leaned forward and braced a hand on the desk. She did it with precision, and at an agonisingly slow pace. It wasn't one, long, smooth motion, but constantly writhing, warmth pressed into my cock, slowly making its way up. And when she reached the tip again, she immediately wrapped her lips around the head. I closed my eyes and groaned, trying to keep my voice low. She moaned, and the vibration travelled straight down into my groin. Then she took a long breath through her nose, and started to slowly slide her lips down my cock, taking me in, bit by bit, in slow, bobbing motions. After what felt like an eternity, her lips were at my base, her nose touching my pelvis. She held herself there, breathing through her nose and swirling her tongue around me. Then she withdrew, almost as slowly. She kept her lips a little looser as she retreated, leaving behind a film of spit, and smears of lipstick. She got to the end, swirled her cock around my tip, bobbed down about halfway again, and then pulled away with a gasp. A thick line of drool hung between her bottom lip and my tip. I sighed and felt all the tension in my body ease.

Annabelle licked her lips, a circular swirl of that hot, pink tongue. She sighed, looked up at me, and said, "How do you taste so good?"

I had no idea how to answer, and she gracefully didn't wait for me to try. She fell straight back down on my cock, swallowing it down to the root and one, smooth, drooling motion. After that I wasn't capable of much thought beyond, Don't fall down.

She worked my cock with her mouth like she had fallen in love with it. She kissed, sucked, licked and gagged. Sometimes she would suck on the tip while stroking me slowly, using her drool as lubricant. She seemed to instinctively know I didn't enjoy much play with my balls, opting to cup them, or gently graze them with the tips of her nails.

At some point she started touching herself as she kept going. Watching her hand reaching between her legs, listening to her moan, seeing her brows knit together with pleasure, was starting to drive me close to the edge.

Once again, it was like she could read my body. She drew back, releasing me with a wet pop, and said, "Get down here, James. Lose the pants."

I was down in a flash, pants tossed aside, jerked forcefully over my boots, nearly twisting my angle in the process. She threw a leg over my hip and mounted up, sliding straight down onto me.

Red, warm, velvet enveloped in me. I let out an involuntary, and very loud, "Oh fuck!"

She clapped a hand over my mouth, shushing my gently with a finger to her lips.

I grabbed her wrist, kissed her palm. She cupped my cheek, smiling, rocking her hips gently. Then she drew her hand down to my chest. She explored the curves -- seemed strange to think of masculine features as curved, but aren't they? -- and I felt I could sense what she wanted. I pulled the shirt up over my head, a little awkwardly with her planted on my lap. Now I was naked, but for my boots, with this beautiful, older woman riding my cock, her hands moving up and down my chest, teasing through the dark hair. I worried that I wasn't as firm as she'd like, not sculpted or veiny... but if I was, she didn't show her disappointment.

She dragged her nails down my torso, and I closed my eyes at the feeling. When I opened them again, she was undoing her blouse, slowly. She wore a simple, beige bra underneath. I reached up and pulled it down, revealing a pair of suspiciously tanned -- did Dr. Miller like to tan in the nude? -- modest breasts. They fit perfectly in my palms, and she arched her back and sighed, pressing them into my hands. She put her own hands over mine, and started to ride a little harder. Bracing her knees on the carpet on either side of my hips, she lifted herself up and down, sliding my raging cock in and out of her. She was so tight, like she was actively pulling on me, trying to swallow me up inside of her. I braced my feet and thrust up into her, and she let out a grunt and fell forward. She braced her hands on my chest, and hissed, "Yes."

I grabbed at her hips, so light, yet solid, strong, and held her as I fucked up into that incredible pussy. Her hands curled into fists on my chest, and her eyes were squeezed close as she let me take her from beneath, her arousal soaking my crotch, running down my cock, over my balls, down my taint. I could hear her the sound slapping sound of our bodies coming together.

She clenched around me, and suddenly sat up, a new, dark look in her eye. She was riding harder now. The timed lights dimmed, and she was now bathed in the orange glow coming up off the city. She could have been smouldering from the inside out, sweat beading on the contours of her body, her abdomen pulsing in and out as she panted. She was so beautiful. I'd slept with kinky girls my age, even one girl who almost exclusively preferred anal, but there was something about the way Annabelle pulled at me, looked at me, something so deep and hungry that was more exciting than any other rough, aggressive encounter I'd had before. Like she wanted to swallow me whole.

She leaned forward and kissed me, her tongue tasting my mouth as she slammed herself down onto me. She moved the kiss to my jaw, my neck, up to my ear. She whispered, "You can cum in me James. Do you understand?"

I wrapped an arm around her waist, twisted, pushed her onto her back. I buried myself to the hilt, staring down at her. It was my turn to kiss her, hard, growling. Something stirred in me when she answered with her own, feminine growl, a sound that seemed to reach deep into my primordial, ancestral memories.

I knew I only had half a dozen strokes left in me, so I tried to make them quote. One hand underneath her, pulling her into me, the other braced on the rough carpet, I thrust into her, hard and deep. Her legs locked around me. One hand reached up to hold the back of my neck, and the other was reaching down, her fingers furiously rubbing her clit as she lifted her hips to meet my thrusts. Every time I slammed into her, she let out a low, guttural grunt, feminine without being effeminate, this strange, incredibly arousing dichotomy. It made me want to see what other sounds I could drive out of her body. But I only had seconds left.

The fire was building at the base of my cock. "I'm gonna cum," I said.

The fingers around my neck curled into claws, and her thighs squeezed harder around me.

"Please, James," she pleaded, a low, desperate, rasping voice. Roughened by gasps and growls. "Fill me up. Please."

And that was it. I plunged into her, fell into her, and a molten river of cum rose up through my shaft and emptied into her hungry pussy. I felt her walls milking me, barely felt her burying her teeth into my shoulder. I continued to press, like there was some extra length of cock I could somehow press into her.

And then it was over. I had filled her with everything I had. My body was quieting, loosening. I didn't want to just collapse onto her, so I pulled out, and we both moaned at the mournful feeling.

I lay down beside her. She found a place in the crook of my arm.

We lay for a long while. The only sound our slowing breaths, interrupted occasionally by the low call of a coal ship in the harbour.

At some point... I'm not sure when... she said in a frail voice, "We've started something... haven't we?"

After a moment, I nodded. "I think so."

A beat.

"Are you scared?"

I thought on it. "No."

I felt her fingertips grazing my soft, sex-soaked cock. "Excited?" Something else replaced the frailty... mischief. Daring.

I turned to her, to Dr. Miller, to Annabelle. Her face was soft in the orange glow, but there was a spark in her eye, and a curve to her lips. I drew her close and kissed her, and we consigned ourselves to whatever fate awaited a sinful, rule-breaking pair like us.