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Mafia in College 9
🕑 Added 2019-06-08 09:47:11 +0000 UTCThere was a certain thrill riding on the backseat of a powerful bike when the driver was a sexy brunette, especially when the said brunette was on board when I started to peel her clothes with a dangerously sharp knife. I was tempted to use the same knife to loosen my pants, which were becoming uncomfortably tight under the circumstances. But in the end, keeping my attention on Amelia was the more attractive choice.
I dragged the blunt side of the knife over her skin, starting from her now-naked stomach, my other hand perfectly positioned to sense her trembling, which intensified as I continued dragging the knife upwards. While I couldn’t hear her out of control breathing due to the presence of her helmet and the loud roar of the engine, the way her diaphragm was dancing was enough evidence for it. She slowed down the bike as the knife got closer to her breasts, but very pointedly, she didn’t stop. She was on board with what was about to go on as well.
A smirk was coloring my lips as I used my free hand to pull her bra forward, and the knife took a position between the generous valley of her breasts, surrounded by her perky nipples. I wished that it would have been silent as I continued dragging the knife upward, as it would have allowed me to listen the whisper-like sound as the sharp side of the knife cut a path through the middle of her bra. Soon, that journey was complete, and cups of her bra started to flap in the wind uselessly, leaving her breasts bare for the nasty beating of the wind.
As a gentleman, I couldn’t allow such a travesty, of course, so I placed my empty hand over her breasts, tightly to ensure to errand wisp of air could pass between the barrier to her rock-hard nipples, pressing against my palm. The knife, I continued to drag over her skin, tracing the edges of her globes.
Amelia wasn’t entirely focused on the drive as those were happening, not that she could be blamed on that. The slowdown of the bike continued as massaged her spectacular globes. Even better, she pushed her hips back more aggressively, and added a circular motion on the deal, grinding against me.
“Pull over,” I ordered her. I had been planning for a more extended session of foreplay, but the way she was rubbing against me managed to change my mind. I didn’t want to waste the moment by prematurely exploding in my pants.
She must have been thinking similar, as she didn’t even bother looking for a relatively covered area before pulling over to the right, in the middle of the road. The bike stopped, but the engine was still rumbling when she made a motion to dismount the bike. I disagreed on that path of action, a disagreement I displayed by pushing her forward until she was almost horizontal on the seat, her bubble ass conveniently pointed upwards.
“Don’t move,” I ordered even as I got rid of my helmet. A moment later, I pressed the tip of my knife over her jeans, and carefully dragged it down, creating a very convenient access point for me. Something she was enjoying very much if her out of control breathing, loud enough to seep out of her helmet, was any indicator. Then, I remembered the stop I made to a clothing shop, the results sitting on my bag.
Since she had spare clothing, there was nothing that prevented me from continuing to drag the knife down across the length of her leg. Surprisingly, she made no attempt to protest even I dragged the knife over the other leg of her jeans. With that task complete, pulling apart her jeans was trivial, leaving the task of protecting her bottom to a pair of wet panties. They weren’t anymore resistant to my knife, of course, sharing the same fate after a twist of my wrist.
I slid my knife back to its sheath before taking something much more context appropriate from my pants. Normally, I would have played around with her a bit with my fingers, trying to bring her to the optimal mood, but just a glance to her entrance, its wet sheen shining under the sun, convinced me that there was no reason for that. But I still have another thing to do before starting the main course. “Remove your helmet,” I ordered.
Seeing she was hesitating to follow my order, I was quick to show my displeasure, in the form of a loud spank on her bottom, filling our immediate surroundings with a loud crack. Before I could have time to leave a similar slap on her other cheek, she pulled her helmet off hurriedly.
Her hair had turned into a sweaty mess during the drive, but that was nothing compared to the expression on her face, sweaty, hazy, and most importantly, filled with a delicious strain that showed that she was even closer to climax than I was. And I, as a true gentleman, knew that I shouldn’t keep her waiting any more.
“Hold tight,” I ordered even as I placed my hands on both sides of her hips, and aligned against her entrance. I pressed, and she raised her hips more, inviting a deep plunge. In a last-minute decision, I decided not to reward her on that vein, and asked her a question instead. “Do you want a slow ride, or a hard ride, my dear professor,” I asked instead.
She turned and threw a glance at my side, surprising me with the blush that was spreading on her face. Somehow, despite the situation, that question managed to trigger her shyness. She turned away just as quick, her damp hair unable to hide her ears, glowing brightly. Against all reason, she managed to look cute at the moment, but not to prevent me from pushing further. “Should I assume that your silence means you don’t want a ride?”
The answer escaped her mouth in a panicked hurry. “No!” she exclaimed, afraid to be left on the edge of orgasm she wouldn’t meet. The probability of losing the treat that was dangling in front of her was enough to break her shyness. “I want it, I want it hard.”
The way her expression shifted back to shy as her brain processed what her mouth spat out in the hurry was amusing, but not as amusing as the transformation that followed when I grabbed her hair harshly and plunged deep inside her with a sharp stab, invading her slippery insides.
A primal cry of pleasure escaped her mouth, preventing her from saying anything else. I pulled back until her nether lips were around my crown, only to impale her once more, even harder, earning a correspondingly louder cry. “An amazing song,” I said, happy to listen to her boundless mix of moans and cries as I pumped inside. She was definitely loud — and surprisingly melodic under the circumstances. And since we were in the middle of the wilderness, there was no reason for her to keep her voice low.
She wasn’t bothering to keep her voice low as I continued my rapid assault, as for once, there was no risk that her desperate cries would bring an immediate audience. But she was close to the edge, and since I didn’t bother holding back, it didn’t take long for her cries to turn into ragged breathing as a climax hit her with full force, leaving her laying limply over the bike while I continued to plunge repeatedly inside her.
“Give me a second,” she managed to say a while later between her gasps. “I need to - I need to catch my breath.”
“Why?” I said even as I continued pumping inside her. “You’re doing excellent as it is. I see no need to break this amazing rhythm.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but a spank on her bottom, lacking any kind of coverage after I destroyed her jeans via the huge cut I created for convenient access, managed to prevent her from continuing those words, replacing them with another desperate cry.
Initially, I had been planning to pump until I was on the edge of my own orgasm, then pulling out without a warning, but I changed my mind when I was struck with a desire to watch her spectacular breasts tumbling every time I impaled her. I pulled out, and at that moment, Amelia turned to face me, and despite her earlier protests, clearly unhappy about stopping halfway.
“I just needed a change of scenery,” I explained calmly, like I was commenting on the weather around the office water-cooler, even as I dismounted from the bike. My hands found her waist and lifted her up, which was very easy thanks to her small and lithe stature. It was slightly harder to turn her in the air to make her face me, which meant that it just took a second more. “Ready for the next step?” I asked with a smirk.
Her mouth opened to answer, but as usual, it wasn’t a point that I was very interested with her answer, so I just pushed my shaft inside her warmth, and once again started to enjoy her slippery insides while her words predictably melted into another cry. And it was not like I needed her words to know whether she was enjoying the treatment, when her legs, conveniently wrapped around my waist,
With the position we were sharing, it was almost trivial to lean forward and capture her lips, which I did in a short yet heated burst before leaning into her ear. “You’re such a sexy beast,” I whispered. I pulled back, focusing on her expression.
I could read the absolute chaos that was going on her mind as her usual self-assured mannerism burned into a crisp under arousal and adrenaline. All the effort she put into her academic life, earning a post as a professor before most people in her age trying to graduate from college, and here she was, nothing more than a toy on the lap of her assistant. A fake one, even, but she wasn’t aware of that particular fact yet.
And more interestingly, she was silent. Well, not exactly silent, as she was gasping, moaning, and crying very loudly every time my shaft slid into her depths, but she was producing no words. Not comprehensive ones, at least. I was so lucky, I thought as I examined her spectacular tits. She was a true treasure, one that avoided male attention thanks to her ambitious academic track. And even luckier, her previous boyfriend was a total tool, leaving her potential untouched for my attention.
She proved to be a quick learner. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and used the leverage to raise herself, only to slam back as sharp as she could, devouring my full length, giving me untold pleasure in the process. The expression of bliss on her face would have been enough to make me climax if I was a shade less experienced. So instead, I watched with great pleasure as she rode himself to another climax,
I was quick to force her into a new position when she climaxed once more, throwing her on top of the bike’s seat, her tits pointing the pristine sky, sunlight dancing on her sweaty skin. And I plunged despite her helpless protests, begging for a small breather. Another few minutes later, she was climaxing once more, but that one left her a mess on the edge of unconsciousness, her body one of the most erotic things I had the pleasure of seeing.
While it was tempting to spend hours watching Amelia’s spent body lying over the bike, the ripped remainders of her clothes just making it sexier by failing to hide her body, marked by our rather aggressive sexual encounter. I was tempted to continue, of course, but she looked dangerously close to fainting. Any more, and it wouldn’t be safe for her to drive back.
“Are you ready to go back,” I said as I passed the helmet to her.
She nodded, but it took a while for her pleasure-drunk brain to realize a very important problem with that. “My clothes,” she moaned in shock, realizing that they were far from the condition that would allow her to drive through the streets without getting arrested for indecent exposure.
“Don’t worry, I came prepared,” I answered, reaching for my bag to pull a skirt from it. It wasn’t a large skirt, barely larger than my hand. And from the glare I was receiving, I could easily deduce that she had realized that it was going to be difficult revealing anything while driving, especially since I failed to give her panties to make her task any easier.
“Is that all,” she said with a glare.
“Of course not,” I answered, and I pulled fishnet stockings, tall enough to reach the middle of her thighs.
“How they are going to help,” she said even as she looked at them with shock.
“They are going to help me,” I said, followed with a wink. She made no motion of putting them on, so I glared her. “Aren’t you going to wear them, after I went all the trouble picking them up for you.”
She tried to look at me authoritatively, but it was difficult to do after a satisfactory rumble in the wild over a bike while lacking anything to hide her body. She sighed a moment later, and reached for her boots. “Would you mind turning your back,” she said.
“Actually, I would,” I answered with a smirk, and watched with rapt attention as she got rid of her own socks, replacing them with the stockings I had brought her for. She pulled the skirt on, but that was revealing on her body even when she stood perfectly straight. I couldn’t wait to see her on the bike, her skirt was ridden upward with the movement.
There was a certain satisfaction in her movements as she pulled the zipper of her leather jacket up, hiding her breasts from sight. That was not to be allowed, I decided as I walked towards her. “I don’t think it fits the ensemble,” I explained even as I grabbed her zipper, slowly dragging down until the jacket failed its task to obscure the sight of her breasts. They were still partially hidden, her nipples still behind the dark curtain of the jacket, but created a delicious cleavage in the process. I wanted to feel her skin against my back as I drove back, and there was no harm in a bit of teasing.
“Ready?” I asked, passing her the helmet. She just huffed, but took the passenger seat without protest. Which was good, because she looked too exhausted to steer. She was barely fit enough to hitch a ride behind me.
But her drowsy state hadn’t lasted long after I started to drive. I quickly jumped a couple gears despite the bumpy road. Advantage of using a rental bike, I didn’t care about the longevity of the suspension.
With the cry of the wind around her ears and the rumble of the engine underneath her, it didn’t take long for Amelia to return back to life on the way, which I could tell by the way her arms tightened around my chest. But, much to my surprise, she didn’t stay limited to that, and started wandering over my chest, copying the treatment I had given her while she had been driving — minus the knife.
First, her hand slid under my shirt, pushing up enough to allow the sharp wind to beat against my skin, hard enough to hurt at the speed I was driving, the softness of her fingers creating an amazing contrast against the bite of the wind.
But it was just a beginning, I realized when one of her hands slid lower until her fingers were tracing the lines that my erection created on my pants, teasing me with the same game I had subjected her to. But her amateurish touches was easy to resist. She had a lot to learn in this game.
Five minutes later, I had found myself revising my assessment. Her hands were still dancing over my body, her learning curve phenomenal. And just as we passed through city borders, she unzipped my pants and slipped inside, grabbing my erection with her burning fingers, and started pumping. With all that going on, it wasn’t surprising that cars that passed us greeted us with enthusiastic honks. Luckily, we both wore helmets, which kept our identity secret, and the road wasn’t crowded to begin with.
It was good that we were close to her house, I thought even as I bit my lips, trying to suppress my body’s insistence to explode. Because after all that happened, even with all my effort, I didn’t trust myself for resisting her wiles for more than a few minutes. As I drove through the city streets faster than the speed limits, I knew that she was smirking at me victoriously, amused by her own power, but it didn’t bother me much. After all, we were about to arrive at her house, where I would be free to teach her the folly of her actions.
She pulled her hand from the confines of my pants as she dismounted, and then pulled off her helmet as she turned to face me. Like I guessed, a self-satisfied smile that begged to be erased colored her face, though it was hard to pay attention to that with the amazing cleavage she had on display. “Thank you for the drive, James,” she said, a teasing edge in her tone. “It was the perfect way to distract me from my other concerns, but now I have to return to my papers.”
I would have played along with her attempts to tease me, maybe acting like I took her words on face value to see how she would react, but there was a problem with that. I wanted my release, if the smug smile on Amelia’s face was any indicator, she was very much aware of that particular fact.
I decided to handle that particular problem more directly. I walked towards her door, grabbing her arm on the way without even bothering to stop. I dragged her along towards the door, ignoring her protesting yelp. “Be careful,” she said, trying to sound angry, but her excitement was barely below mine, so the words that left her mouth was a needy gasp rather than a sharp rebuke.
“Either unlock the door, or we start here,” I said, peering at her eyes. And she knew from experience that it wasn’t a bluff. She reached to her key with a great hurry, her fingers trembling as she unlocked the door. I pushed her inside the moment the door was parted enough, and slammed the door behind myself.
When she found her balance, she turned towards me, looking ready to complain, but she never had the chance. I was just a step away from her, my lips meeting with hers to douse her complaint. Against my body, she was nothing more than a windup toy, doing her best not to not to fall as I forced her to walk to her living room without even breaking the kiss.
I unzipped her jacket in one hurried pull, revealing her tits to my gaze. But this time, I removed it a moment later, ignoring the discomfort I made her feel with my sharp movements. I threw the jacket to the side.
The ruined pieces of her bra were the next step, but this time, I kept them with me, as I had something more interesting in mind. A way that would teach her the cost of teasing me. Though, with the performance she was displaying on the various other encounters, I doubted this would be something that she would be annoyed with.
We were in front of her couch when I pulled back from the kiss without a warning, made her turn, and pushed her on the couch, with her back turned to me. Then, with a familiarity that was left from the unlawful days -though the targets for that particular skill usually was much uglier, about to meet an equally ugly fate-, I tied her arms behind her back.
“So, my dear academic adviser,” I said with an amused tone even as I grabbed the edge of her skirt, pulling them up to reveal her puffy lips, drowning in their own wetness. “Are you ready to receive a lesson of your own.”
A desperate grunt left her mouth rather than words, so I spanked her bottom hard. “You’re more articulate than this Amelia,” I said with a mocking manner. “Speak clearer.”
“You’ll pay for this,” she said instead, her voice thick with arousal. I was impressed with her courage, though it might also be a glutton for punishment. The way she acted hadn’t exactly ruled out that probability.
“I will?” I drawled, my mind churning a number of ways I could use to punish her thoroughly, but before I could focus on one, my phone started vibrating, indicating an incoming text message. I thought about ignoring it, but a follow-up message arrived just a few seconds later, so I decided to check.
‘Megan is calling me to her room, saying it’s urgent,’ read the first message, sent by Camilla. ‘What should I do?’ she added in the second.
‘Tell that you’re not on campus, and you’ll be there in an hour,’ I wrote back. A small sign appeared on the screen, denoting she was writing something, but nothing appeared on my screen. She was probably trying to ask me to reconsider, but afraid of angering me as well in the process. ‘Trust me,’ I wrote back before putting my phone back to my pocket.
“You’re lucky that something important came up,” I said even as I released my shaft from the confines of my pants. A disappointed gasp escaped her mouth, one that was cut short when I spanked the naked flesh of her bottom once. “That means I have just a few minutes to teach you a real lesson,” I added, and watched as she perked up in excitement.
For a moment, I just enjoyed the sight in front of me. My sexy professor, wearing nothing but a miniskirt and fishnets, ruined remains of her bra wrapped around her wrists to pin her arms behind her back. It was a pity that I didn’t have time to properly savor the moment. Still, at least, I had enough time to finish the first module of her lesson.
“Open wide,” I warned as I pressed my shaft against her lips, which she resisted just a moment before allowing my girth into the confines of her mouth. Normally, I would have enjoyed playing with her a bit, but I didn’t have a lot of time, so I pushed until the crown was ticking her throat, the shock dominating her expression, until it was replaced by panic when I showed no sign of stopping, forcing my presence deep into her throat.
She would have complained, on that, there was no doubt, but saying something was hard when she had several inches my presence in her mouth, a part of it invading her throat. She was too busy gagging to speak. Her muscles contracted around my girth, which, added to my earlier enjoyment, pushed me close to a climax than I would have expected. Still, it wasn’t a loss, as her tightness was unbelievable. I kept the position, forcing her to go without a breath, and only to pull for a moment when she started showing the signs of fainting.
Since I didn’t have much time, I decided to make her work harder. I put my hand behind her head, and pushed once more after giving her the opportunity to catch her breath, but this time, impaling repeatedly instead of just staying in the warm confines of her throat. Her wheezing filled the room as I pumped inside mercilessly, my tight grip on her head only thing allowing her to maintain her balance with her arms bound her back.
A minute later, I pulled back once more, giving her another opportunity to breathe as he examined her face. There was no sign of her earlier haughtiness, replaced by a dazed shock, a dribble sliding on the side of her lips. I was tempted to ask questions, but I neither had time nor patience to delay my climax anymore.
So, I said nothing else, and just started to slide my presence into her mouth once more, invading her throat mercilessly, her gags and wheezes filling the room as I invaded every untouched part of her throat, giving no thought about her discomfort or pain. And since she was trying to lean forward rather than back, I was willing to bet that she shared the same idea.
Soon, I was at the edge of my resistance, and decided to mark the occasion by a celebratory filling of her mouth without a warning, leaving her coughing desperately even after I pulled back. “That was nice,” I murmured in satisfaction as I pulled back and fixed my pants. Amelia was coughing, barely able to prevent herself from toppling. I reached to untie her makeshift handcuffs, and started to walk towards the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at your office,” I said before leaving, enjoying the confusion that spread to her face, which was the last thing I saw as I closed the door.
