College Crush 2

My verbal flow was suddenly halted as I felt a hand gently clasp my chin and turn my head to the left. I was abruptly silenced as Holly leant forward and planted a long, lingering, wet kiss squarely on my lips. I was in heaven as I felt her warm tongue touch mine and her fingers run through my light brown, curly hair, even as the air in my lungs ran out and I found myself fighting for breath. When we finally parted, she was breathing just as heavily as me, and in her eyes I could see reflected all the desire that I had carried for her for so long.

“You don’t have to dream any more,” she breathed softly, sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine.

We carried on kissing, and she unfastened the clip on my hair, allowing it to fall around my shoulders. I’d never really liked my hair, it was a mass of curls that resembled a fright wig on a bad day, but as Holly ran her fingers gently through it I felt sexier and more desirable than I ever had before. At the same time I brushed my fingers lightly over her chest, cupping her left breast. God, it was just as firm and supple as I’d always imagined it would be.

Holly withdrew from me, slowly teasing my bottom lip with her upper one, and then licked both of hers approvingly. “Mmmm,” she murmured huskily, her arms draped over my shoulders.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I whispered, a part of me still afraid that she would back out.

“I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t,” she replied. Leaning forward, she began to kiss my neck and throat, clutching my head. The touch of her lips on my skin felt utterly incredible. She was wearing more than I was, but that wasn’t going to stop me from making her feel as good as I did at that moment. I reached out and started to rub her stomach through her sweater, then lowered my attention to the jeans fabric pressed tightly around her crotch. I established a soft but insistent rhythm that I gradually started to increase, running my fingers over the material and then cupping her pussy in my hand.

Holly was soon paying close attention to what I was doing; she looked down, her eyes locked on my hand, and spread her legs a little further apart. I realised that she was actually starting to grind her hips against me, wanting to take me into herself. As her head lolled forward a faint whimper emerged from her mouth; it was music to my ears. I was sitting here slowly masturbating the woman of my dreams. I would have carried on all the way to the finish if she had allowed me, but she didn’t. She gently grasped my hand and indicated for me to stop. I quickly found out why.

“You know what you told me this morning?” she asked me, trembling slightly. I nodded; she looked downwards for a moment. “Well… here’s your chance.” She slid off the couch and, kicking her shoes off, moved over to stand in front of a nearby armchair. Once she had turned to face me, she kept eye contact with me as her hands moved carefully down to the zipper on her jeans.

I listened intently as she unzipped her fly, my tongue massaging my bottom lip; I must have looked so perverted at that moment, but I couldn’t help myself. Holding her jeans up, she sat down in the chair and raised her legs to give me a good, long look as she slipped them off. I swallowed heavily at the sight of her perfectly tanned and toned limbs, thrust into the air, and realised that this was the view her boyfriends had gotten. No wonder she had to beat people off with a stick. But tonight at least, the view was mine.

And of course the best part of that view was those white panties, clinging tightly between her thighs. Holly obviously thought so too, because when she lowered her legs back down she kept them spread invitingly apart, beckoning me forwards. Urging me to turn my far-fetched fantasy into a wonderful reality.

For an instant I wondered whether we had gone too far, whether I knew what I was doing, but then a voice inside me told me to stop dithering and just get on with it. In fact, the more I watched Holly the more I was driven on to make good on what I had confessed to her that day. I wanted to give her the best damn tongue-fucking she’d ever had, or ever would have. She deserved nothing less.

Dropping to my knees, I shuffled up to Holly until I was perched right in front of the armchair, her outstretched legs almost resting on my shoulders. My eyes were immediately drawn to her crotch, but it would have been too obvious to go for that right away. So I spread my hands over the top of her thighs and began to gingerly massage them; simultaneously I lowered my head and kissed the insides of her knees. She moaned softly, and I could tell I was on the right track. Slowly, methodically, I began to work my way up her legs, alternately kissing and licking her inner thighs while kneading the flesh on the other side. It was a long process, but all the time Holly was getting steadily more excited and her grip on my head grew tighter and tighter, urging me on.

My chest was balanced over the fabric of the chair seat, and all of a sudden I felt Holly’s fingers darting towards the buttons on my blouse, eager to get at my tits. I grabbed her arms gently and stopped her; for now at least, this was all about her, not me. Slightly annoyed, she squeezed my nipples through my bra, which made me gasp. I exhaled sharply, then looked up at her to see a naughty smile on her face. “You’re going to pay for that,” I warned her sternly, before dissolving into giggles.

Well, she was certainly going to get what was coming to her, that’s for sure. I could smell her pussy by now, and when I reached out to gently touch the material of her panties, they were soaking wet to the touch. With my index finger I described small semi-circular motions over her crotch, trying to trace the outline of her vagina; when I looked up once more, Holly was no longer smiling, and her face was flushed crimson as her breathing became slower and heavier. Once I was good and ready, I leaned forward and extended my tongue, wanting to add my own saliva to what was already there and make her feel like she was sitting in a pool of her own pussy juice. I could taste her faintly as her underwear got even more sodden than it was before. The mass of fluid that seeped through the garment soon turned it transparent, and finally I could see exactly what I was aiming at. I gave it a couple of tender, explorative kisses.

Leaning back again, I hooked my fingers through the waistband of her panties and carefully slid them off her hips. There was a loud sucking sound as they detached from between her legs, which was testament to just how wet she and I had made them. Once they reached her ankles, I slipped them off and held them up to my face right in front of her. She watched as I inhaled her scent deeply, savouring the smell that filled my nostrils. It’s not like I have a panty fetish or anything, but at that moment the thought of it was just too hot for me to resist. I could already see Holly’s fingers moving towards her clit, desperate to stimulate herself after what she had seen. I quickly restrained her before she got there. “Oh please, Laura,” she whispered imploringly to me. “Please…”

It was something I never thought I would experience, even in my wildest flights of fancy; me, holding the most beautiful girl I’d ever known on a piece of string, working her up into such a lather that she was begging me for relief. Her, begging me! It didn’t seem real, but it was, and so was the task ahead of me. Not that it felt like a chore, but I really didn’t know what I was doing. I mean, how had her other lovers done it to her in the past? Should I ask for some tips? That might just spoil the mood. My best bet was to do what I enjoyed having done to me – but then, I’d never had a woman going down on me before either, and my experience in general was rather limited in this area.

Just do what you feel, I decided. I couldn’t get inside Holly’s head, but if she was anywhere near as turned on right now as I was, then hopefully she could forgive a bit of imperfect technique; and if her pussy was any indication, she was very turned on indeed. Her labia were swollen around a pink, fleshy mound of supple tissue that was already dripping wet; I followed the contours of her vagina, up past the nub of her clitoris, to the tiny patch of pubic hair that trailed away into bare skin.