Of Rivers and Religion Ch. 01

Whatever or whoever it was, he didn't stop, so the prolonged effect of Dave's insistent thrusting was that the carnal ecstasy continued to build inside me as his plunging strokes grew more vigorous, almost violent. After a while, he was slamming himself into me, and the slapping sound of his hips and thighs as they pummeled my ass echoed through the still room, bathed as it was in the blue light of the moon which I could now see rising through the east window. The pleasure was delirious, and now I was lost in an erotic dream.

I began reaching both of my hands upward to lightly stroke his slender torso, running my fingers through his chest hair, brushing against his nipples, and then the sensuality of the entire scene so thoroughly overwhelmed me that I moved my hands to his neck and began to stroke him there as well. When I did, I could feel his pulse pounding like a jackhammer through his jugular vein.

And then I was making noises that I didn't even know could come out of me, and saying words and phrases that I had never before uttered, obscene words and phrases, the kinds of things that would embarrass me to no end if they were repeated back to me, "Oh shit! Fuck me baby! Keep fucking my pussy! Oh, Jesus Christ! Oh, harder! Oh, fuck me harder! Oh baby, make my wet pussy cum again! Oh, Jesus Christ!" I knew that it would take only a few more strokes to put me over the edge.

Then, I did three things that I still can't believe I did. I was the absolute antithesis of the slutty undergrad and all that that stereotype evokes, so I don't know where all of this came from, though it should be noted that my favorite professor was pounding my pussy relentlessly at that very moment.

But it has now been over a decade since that night, and I am still amazed and incredibly embarrassed that I did what I did, especially considering that I did these things with the man that I admired as much as any male I have ever met in my life. Then again, I think maybe in the long run, my "sluttiness" helped him emerge from his self-imposed asceticism, so maybe I shouldn't be so ashamed.

Despite the fact that Dave had my hips pinned to the bed with his weight, I somehow managed to contort my body enough to reach my right arm underneath my ass until my hand emerged between my legs, and I was able to reach up until I could touch and then stroke his smooth balls with my fingers.

And then the slutty undergrad in me turned the dial up a few more notches, and I started screaming for his cum, begging him to shoot his jism inside me, "Give me your seed, baby! Shoot your hot cum load deep inside me! Cum for me baby! Cum for me!" and then I bent forward, and reaching my tongue to his chest, I began licking one of his nipples, sucking it into my mouth, and the combination of those three efforts seemingly sent both of us crashing toward our climaxes.

Just as that evening's strongest waves of pleasure started rolling through me like a juggernaut, each as mercilessly destructive and unstoppable in strength as the Hindu temple cars that gave their name to that metaphorical force, Dave now look down at me with unfathomable lust in his eyes and began grunting his own climax more loudly and crudely than I had ever before or ever since heard any man do, much less one of such grace, kindness, refinement, and good humor, "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh! Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh! Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhh! Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!"

And then I felt his cum bathing my pussy, washing away his pain, regret, self-loathing, guilt, and shame. He kept shooting for the longest time, and because my fingers were cupping his balls as he was orgasming, I could feel every contraction as he deposited each spurt deep inside me. He kept up his thrusting long after his balls had ceased their quaking. I guess it had been a long time.

And then finally, slowly and with remarkably lissome movements, he extricated himself from our coupling, and laying himself down gently on the bed next to me, he pulled my face to his and kissed me with great passion, tenderness, and, dare I say, gratitude.

After many minutes of kissing and embracing, Dave finally spoke, "Thank you, Lily. Thank you, for being so patient with me. You brought something out of me tonight that I didn't think I still possessed. I am eternally grateful." And even though it had been the most memorable evening of my short life, that was all he had to say that evening, all that he was willing to share with me at least verbally at that time and in that place.

We fell asleep in each other's arms and slept like logs in the blue darkness.