Those Words: Longing

His room is small but immaculate. There is nothing there but an old dresser and a writing desk, just as old, next to a closet. And beyond these, a big bed with a black iron frame. It's nearly just as I would have imagined it. The white down comforter looks hopelessly high to my eyes. I will have to jump into it. I turn to see him unbuttoning his shirt. I reach out to stop his nimble fingers from pulling at the buttons.

"No. Let me. I want to undress you for me."

He smiles and then nods. I reach my hand up to stroke his stubble-covered, thin cheek. And then, I press my lips press against his. I kiss him, unbuttoning a few more buttons while our lips slide together. The white shirt slides from his broad shoulders and tumbles to the floor with a scandalous rustle of heavy cloth. His bronze skin is beautiful. I gaze up into his eyes, searching for permission. His eyes crinkle into one of those hidden smiles, this time of consent. And so I let my eyes feast on the man before me. I look down to see his lightly brown nipples. His chest is broad, two mounds of taut muscle, abdomen tight chorded muscles beneath golden skin. I can't stop myself from drinking in the sight. My eyes are pulled down further to the trail of hair that leads to his slacks. I slide my fingers across his stomach and dip into his belly button before tracing his nipples.

I lean forward to put my lips on his warm skin. I kiss first down his sternum, between his tight pectoral muscles. And then I bring my lips to rest on his left nipple while my fingers play at his right. I look up while I kiss his tiny nipple, my hard tongue flicking at it.

"Oh..." he whispers, almost gasping. "Oh yeah..." he nearly hisses. I continue to kiss his nipple and pinch his other. Hard. Far harsher than he treated mine. I am content in trying to make him squirm the way he did me. But somehow, I know it'll take a little more rough attention considering the firm strength of his muscled torso. I bring my thumb and forefinger together and try to flatten the little nub before twisting just slightly. He sucks air in between his teeth. "Yeah, just like that. Make it hurt a little, babe. You like to play a little rough, huh?"

I smile around his nipple and continue to suckle before letting my teeth close around it. I nibble at it once, twice, three times. He finally breaks into a moan. Triumph. I pull the skin between my lips, slurping and tonguing at it even as I bring my hands down to his belt and pull at it. It zips through the air when I yank it through the belt loops. My lips never leave his swollen little nipples. I move from one to the other, kissing and sucking and biting. He runs his hands through my hair and pulls me to his chest.

"Yeah, baby... Bite it like that. Oh, oh-not too hard, just..." I suddenly suck as hard as I can on the rosy tip and flick at it with my tongue. He groans, forgetting his command and hissing air out through his teeth.

My hands tug his slacks down until they are but a puddle at his feet. I pull away and look up at his eyes. Trying to affect my most innocent countenance, I gaze up at him.

"You know, I've never sucked a cock before." The words sound foreign on my lips. My voice is low. I can feel heat spreading through my cheeks. I know from that burning that I must be blushing. Tremors wrack my body. I choose my next words carefully. "I've thought about it, though. Your. Cock. Professor..."

His eyes widen. Is he shocked? To hear this from me, he must be at least a little surprised. I can't help but let my lips curl upward. "I wondered what it would be like to take you into my mouth... How shy I would feel to ask you to let me wrap my lips around it. What it would feel like with my lips stretched out around it. How it would feel in my mouth, fighting for its place there. How hopelessly big it would feel pushing into my cheek. How you would be leaking on my tongue. How it would taste, so sweet, all vanilla and cream."

"You've thought about it before?" he asks, cupping his own manhood with his hand through the tight cloth of his boxer-briefs and closing his eyes. "You wanted to put this in your mouth?"

"Mm-hmm. Have you ever... You knew I wanted you. I came here to tell you that before. And you always sent me on my way. You always turned me down." I look up at him and pause. He stops rubbing himself and opens his eyes, perhaps waiting for me to continue. I do not. I just gaze up from my place on my knees. The wood floor feels cool on my bare skin, my heart racing in my chest. I reach out to those tight gray shorts cut just below his tight ass cheeks and around his muscled thighs. I slip my fingers between his skin and the band and trace around the edge of his waist but do not pull. His taut, warm skin feels incredible against the back of my hand. I reach around to the back and cup his ass. "You always turned me down, but I want to know something about you."

It's his turn to shudder when he exhales. I can see the need on his face. His expression is tight with desire and desperate for release.

"I want you to tell me. Did you ever think about me after you showed me out?" I reach up and grasp the outline of his cock, straining against the tight gray material. The head of his member just pokes out from the band now. A subtle dark stain has developed in front of his head. The head glistens slightly, a bead of clear liquid just spilling out. A tear streams down from the slit there. He is whimpering now, but quietly. It is almost inaudible. My heart thumps in my chest and echoes in my ears. He is uncut. Like me. And his member is beautiful. Like him. I reach out to rub my thumb against that exposed crown, smearing the drop of essence around the head. He grunts and brings his hands to my head, raking through my hair wildly. But he doesn't pull me to him. He doesn't try to force me into anything. He only holds my shoulders, steadying himself, and moans, his eyes closed. So, I press on.

"Did you think about me, professor? Did you squeeze your eyes shut and maybe touch that big, hard cock of yours? Did you imagine that I was trying to go down on you? Did I have trouble managing in your fantasy? Hmm? Was it too big, and was I too eager so I almost choked? Was I fisting it and sucking on the head, trying to make you come? Did you look down into my eyes as I stared intently at your dick and licked at it and whispered to you how much I wanted you to come so that I could have your taste on my tongue?"

He nods. He closes his eyes tightly, a labored look on his face. His eyes wrinkle up just a little and he whimpers. Is he embarrassed? I smile.

"You thought dirty thoughts and you stroked yourself. Slow. Slowly, so you could imagine doing all kinds of things to me. Was I uncertain in your mind? Did you have to seduce me? Did you have to reassure me it would feel good? Did you have to teach me how to make you blow your load with my mouth? Was I eager to please you? Hmm? Did you lay me down on my back, on that bed right over there, and slide your hot, needy cock into my ass?"

His eyes are shut tightly. He nods slowly now and then. I pull down at the waistband and see the object of my desire. His cock curves up toward his belly and stands, hard and proud, curving until it is just below his navel. I reach out and take the warmth in my hand. I have felt my own hundreds of times. But I can't fathom how he can be so hard yet so soft in my hand. It twitches and spasms in my hand. He pants but doesn't open his eyes.

"Does that feel good?" I ask. I shimmy forward on my knees and roll the skin back. I put my lips to it, kissing the head. And then, slowly, I let the skin roll into its place again. He moans as the skin inches forward. Another tiny drop of him rolls from the taut slit and I catch it on my tongue. Vanilla. Divinity.

I continue my verbal assault, drunk on him.

"In your fantasy, did you teach me how to breathe so, so slowly while you eased it up inside me as far as it could go-until you bottomed out in my ass? Did you rock back and forth then? I'll bet you fucked me gently at first. And then you did it long and hard, and I howled and whimpered and cried out until there were tears in my eyes and I was begging you to come in my ass. And I begged you to jerk my cock. I'll bet you imagined me wanting you to tell me that you were my teacher and I was your student and you were teaching me what it is to be a man. And in your mind, I wanted you to make me come so hard and so good. And you helped me come. But it wasn't over. You kept thrusting up my tight ass until you couldn't hold back. And your seed finally, finally erupted, spilling out into me."

My hand is jerking his hard cock now, slowly, steadily, back and forth. I pull it forward from his body and then back to touch his hard stomach. I pull at the skin and roll it back. Without warning, he grunts and holds my shoulders; his feet are not so steady any longer. His eyes clench and he bites down on his lip. I put my lips over the top of his head and suck.

"Oh my god. Oh god..." he manages to moan. I can feel it coming close. And so I hold his member in my hand, feeling it pulse. I rise and kiss him. His kisses are almost savage now. His eyes are full of emotion. I kiss him back, smiling. And then I throw my arms around his neck. He lunges at my mouth, and then his tongue is all over mine. He suckles at my tongue, and I know that he is tasting tinges of his own essence from my mouth. He continues to kiss me and pushes me over to the bed. I know I will not be able to fall back comfortably on it; it is too high. But then I suddenly feel him tug at my hips and launch me into the soft fluff. He climbs up over my body, frantic to cover me with his warm form. He gazes down into my eyes. "I want you so badly," he confesses. "I've never... No one's ever done that to me before."

I smile up at him. I comb his hair with my fingers. "I've never said some of those words out loud before. I don't know what you imagined... That's what I fantasized you would do to me. But it was so hot to see you nod when I asked if you touched yourself and thought about me..." I can't keep his gaze. I look away while I whisper out my confession. "I've never let myself say that before. To anyone. It was a secret."

"Yeah?"

"...Yeah. I-I touched myself after I left your place. Every time after I left your place. I would get so frustrated, I would take myself in my hands. It was so lonely after I left you-every time after I left you. I wanted to be with you..." I look down at my own hard prick. I want so badly to touch it. For him to touch it. He is staring down at it between us. His hand darts out to cover me there. No pressure in his grip. He just takes it lightly in his hand and cradles it. I continue to speak. "I would just hold it and move my hips. I thought about you kissing me. About you whispering in my ear and touching me where no one's ever touched me..."

"You thought about us together, then... You thought about being here in my bed."

I nod. "And I hoped, you know, that you were touching yourself. And thinking about me. About us being intimate like this."

He beams down at me, his white teeth exposed. My heart rings high, for he isn't one to smile. He kisses me and then whispers into my ear, "You were right, though. You were so right. I did fantasize about being with you. About you asking me to help you feel good. About you asking me to teach you what I like. It wasn't anything as elaborate as what you just described. But I did. I touched myself when I thought about how it would feel to touch you. To kiss you. To go down on you. To have you go down on me. To be inside of you. I imagined it all and stroked myself. But I wasn't sure what to think about myself for having those thoughts. You were my student..."

"It's been a long time since those days when I sat in the front row, Professor. You don't have to worry about it."

"But you're still a student..." he whispers. His gaze clouds. He looks down and his hand falls away from my groin. I am losing him. "This is... You know."

"What two adults want. That's what this is, isn't it? I just jerked you off. You almost came-in my mouth. No sense getting self-conscious now, right?" I smile and wrap my hand around his rock-hard member. "Now, no more thinking about any of that. Just feeling what there is to feel. You've got me hot and right where you want me. So, the question is: What are you gonna do, hmm?"

I reach up to rub and cup his hard ass. Two of my fingers find the tight bud between his taut cheeks and trace it. At the same time, I pull him down until his arms give and his body falls atop me. There is a pleasant weight. My groin is mashed up against his. I begin to thrust my hips upward. I want to be one with him. I need release so badly. I need him to see me cum. To see me at my most vulnerable. I rub my sex against his.

"Professor?"

He nods, and his hands go to my chest. He kneads the muscles there. They are sore, suddenly. I bring my hands to rest atop his. They continue to move. "Tell me what you wanna do with me, Professor. Tell me how you feel about me." I whimper when his fingers twist my sore nipples. He kisses one of them and continues to flick at them with his fingers and tongue. And then his hand is rubbing my belly. He rubs down the ridges on my stomach. They are softer than his but I can still feel his fingertips against my abs. He rubs my belly, and I sigh and close my eyes.

"What do I wanna do to you? Oh, I don't know... I think I wanna look at you. I wanna see you so frustrated and needy." His hand find the straining form of my cock and he wraps his hand around it anew. His grip is tight now and he slowly pulls the foreskin back. I can feel it getting wet. Not sloppy, but hot and moist. I look down to see him staring at it. He appears enthralled with what his is doing. "I want to hear you beg me to make you feel it. I want you to tell me what you like. What feels good. Why you want it to be me making you feel that way..."

I arch my back. His head darts down to my groin and then I feel the warm wetness of his mouth. I close my eyes. The tight warmth is marked with the sound of slurping and the feeling of his tongue rolling around my slit. And then he is flicking over it. And I can feel myself leaking and his greedy tongue wiping it away.

"Yes," I whimper. "Like that. Oh, just like that. Right there... Fuck-right there. You know where to do me just right." My hands are all over in his hair. I have to resist the urge to thrust and push his head down. I restrain myself, but my hips are twisting slightly, left and right.

"Professor... I want... Mmm... I want you to lick me under the slit. It feels good for me there." And his tongue is already there, dancing over that little v-shaped crevice where the taut skin from my foreskin gathers. He pulls the skin back with his hand and his tongue rolls around and around that sweet spot. I cry out; I really cry out. A litany of Oh fucks graces my lips. I cannot take it much longer.

I feel warm tightness gathering in my balls. His other hand goes there, and then he is cupping them in his hand. I can feel his mouth surround one of them. He sucks on it. I cry in frustration and in need and pull at my own hair. "Don't tease me... Please. Make me come." I gasp and pant. "Taste me. Please, just taste me." His tongue is back to my slit. He rakes it over the head. I look to see him between my legs, his head bobbing up and down frantically. Up and down, back and forth. His tongue rolls round the head. And then he sucks at my crown, and a moist, warm finger snakes its way between my legs. It roots its way up my cheeks.

"What-ahh!" I feel his finger circling my most sensitive spot. Unable to hold back, I thrust my hips upward and he takes me to the hilt. He doesn't stop pressing the pad of his finger to my little butthole but redoubles his efforts in tickling the underside of my member with his tongue. I feel another finger tracing a circle around it in tandem with the first. And, at once, his tongue descends on it.

"N-no. Why are you doing that?" I gasp, knowing full well even as the words escape my lips. "I haven't even showered-oh, fuck..."

It is almost obscene the way that my ass stretches just enough to allow him to slide his wet tongue in and out. His mouth has fallen away from my member, but his fingers continue to stroke the underside. I can feel myself leaking. I am crying out for him to fuck me. Please, just please to fuck me. He tells me that he will but doesn't make a move.

I try to push his hand up and down my straining penis again, but he refuses, staring up at me.

"Don't be mean to me, Professor..." I plead. He pauses, the assault to my ass coming to an abrupt stand-still. "What's wrong?"

"You're so beautiful," he says as though he's just remembered something.

"I want you inside of me."

I rock my hips back and forth, feeling the exquisite pressure of his fingers against my cock again.

He reaches over and pulls open a drawer. It must be "the drawer" that all men have in their apartments. Or so I must assume. I close my eyes, content to allow him to prepare. His fingers have fallen away from me, but my member still feels swollen and hot. I feel his warm lips crushed against mine and open my eyes to see his eyes staring back at me. I feel his cock rubbing at my opening. He pulls away, breaking our kiss.

"Are you ready?" he asks. And it is the invitation to something beautiful. It is the invitation that I crave more than anything.

"You know I am," I whisper. There is a sharp, cold sensation on my ass. I cry out and realize that a slippery wetness has coated me. He traces my asshole again, and this time, he permits his slender index finger to graze the surface before sliding the tip inside of me. This enters with little ado. He slides it in and out, moving from different angles. Just the very tip, almost not enough to be perceptible. I feel it dip beneath the tight outer ring and then flit back out almost as quickly. This, even as his tongue is assaulting the inside of my mouth. I pull at his lips and lick at them. He pulls away a moment and pours a generous amount of lubricant on his fingers.

This time, his oral ministrations are relentless even as I feel the length of his index finger slide against the tightness of my inner self. I groan into our kiss. A cry escapes my lips. I buck my hips upward into his abdomen. His finger follows where I rise and begins to curl, beckoning me. I feel it land somewhere new. It brushes against a firmness within me. I bite down on his lower lip and nod, whimpering and stroking the back of his head.

"I'm—I'm sorry," I whisper. My tongue flits out to touch the lip I've abused.

"Shh... It's okay."

"Oh god... What are you doing to me?" I know the answer to this, too, though. I clench my eyes shut and turn away from him. Another moan escapes my lips. A whimper tumbles from them now. Each time the tip of his finger grazes the firm button within me, a different sound slips out.

He reaches his other hand to bring my chin back to his own.

"Open your eyes..." he coos.

I hesitate.

"I said: open your eyes."

His voice is lower, stern now. I ease my eyes open to see him gazing at me. His eyes are filled at once with a warmth I perceive as tenderness and a heat that I know can only be one thing.

"It's okay," he reassures me. And it's all the encouragement I need to begin pushing back against his finger.

"Another..." I whisper. "Please, another."

His eyes curve upward at my pleas. It is painstaking. First, I feel his digit retract and the emptiness, the cold of where it once was. And then there is more wetness at my opening and a pressure that I cannot decide whether I like. There is a heat there that was not there before, a stretching. My eyes widen. This, he sees, and his mouth is once again upon mine. He rakes his tongue over mine. He laps at my palate. I throw my arms around his neck and instinct takes over. I lean backward into his fingers and they hit home.