Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace (8 page)

She groaned at the exquisite pressure and forced her bottom closer to his mouth. Her stretched anus felt like it was on fire. With one hand Jilly finger-fucked her pout while bracing herself against the chair with the other.

At last, when her slit thrummed from the stimulation of her backside, he removed his fingers. She heard him spit and felt his warm saliva in her crack. Then, with a little gasp, he pressed the head of his cock into her hole. Finally, with a grunt and a shove, he was in, pushing her face hard against the chair that smelled like her cunt.

Then, to her surprise, he began to stuff the rosary beads into her pussy with each thrust until only the crucifix dangled from her vulva. The fullness of her cunt and her arsehole, combined with the movement of the beads with each thrust, was beyond maddening. The priest humped harder and faster. His balls slapped against her bottom. With each thrust, he grunted breathlessly, ‘Oh God, oh God!’

She joined the chant. ‘Oh God, oh God!’

With a thrust that she feared would split her in two, he exploded inside her. At the same instant, he grabbed the crucifix like the pin of a hand grenade and yanked the beads from her pussy. The explosion nearly knocked the confessional over.

When they were dressed again, he kissed the rosary and placed it over her head. ‘I can’t grant you absolution when I know you’re not repentant.’

She chuckled softly. ‘I came for the confession, not the absolution.’ She wrapped her pussy-stained scarf around his neck and drew him into a kiss.

‘Will I see you next week?’ he breathed when she pulled away.

‘Afraid not, padre. There’s a church across town I’ve got my eye on. I hear the priest there believes in heavy penance for sinners like me, and thanks to you, I have so much more to confess.’ She sighed and laid her hand against her breasts. ‘Heavens. I don’t know if I can wait till next week. She turned and walked out of the deserted church.

Excavations

‘Go on, Gina,’ Mike said, nodding to the small stand of oak and beech trees where the Professor stood having what he no doubt thought was a private moment. ‘I dare you.’

‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘He’ll hear us.’

‘If you can’t heat up the Ice Man, who can? I know you want to.’ Mike gave me a playful shove in the Professor’s direction, and I responded with an elbow in his ribs resulting in a low grunt. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man in the trees giving himself a good grope. He’d asked us to call him Ed, but since I was only a lowly volunteer who never got close enough to have a real conversation with him, I still thought of him as the Professor. Seeing him this way was like a fantasy come true. Possibly he had stepped into the trees for a pee, but he certainly wasn’t anxious to zip up and get back to work. I wasn’t sure he could even if he’d wanted to. He leant back against a tree. His eyes were closed, his fly was open. His cock was at full attention in one hand. The other scooped in his pants to ease his balls from their constraint. For ages he stood there motionless, chest rising and falling in deep breaths, just holding himself.

He was unshaven, hair slightly mussed, like he’d just got out of bed. He always looked that way, and I fantasised that it was my bed he’d just gotten out of. His T-shirt was pushed up to reveal the hard slope of his belly and the inviting path of dark hair that led down from his navel to his cock. The ache in my pussy had me shifting from foot to foot, and in sudden danger of hyperventilating. I wouldn’t have given Mike a second glance if I’d had any indication that the Professor was even slightly interested in me.

‘Jesus,’ Mike whispered. ‘He’s so caught up in his work, who’d have thought he even had a sex drive?’ He nudged me again. ‘Go on. Convince him that wanking isn’t his only option.’ He gave me a quick cunt-cupping through my shorts, making me jump. ‘I know you’re wet for him.’

Mike had been my fuck buddy since we volunteered to help excavate the Neolithic passage tomb. Though we were both archaeology enthusiasts and both never missed a chance to volunteer, our motives weren’t as pure as the Professor’s. Beside the fact that the dig was on the Cornish coast, Mike was in it for the chicks, which meant yours truly. As for me, digging up the ancient past has always made me horny. Strange fetish, I know, but different strokes, as they say. It had been the Professor’s impassioned talk at our local archaeology club, complete with Neolithic relics and a multimedia presentation, that had sent me scurrying to the front of the queue to volunteer for what was turning out to be my horniest dig ever.

Mike was right. It was now or never, and I had a plan.

I slipped my vest off over my head and handed it to Mike.

‘Fucking hell,’ he breathed, staring at my tits.

I untied the blue bandana from around my neck, slipped from behind the hawthorn thicket where we’d been hiding, and moved silently toward the Professor, who was just getting down to serious communion with his cock. My pulse hammered in my throat as I tiptoed a circuitous path until I was directly behind his tree. His grunts and moans assured me he was enjoying himself too much to notice my intrusion.

I took a deep breath, then, with the bandana in one hand, I reached around and covered the Professor’s eyes. Before he could offer more than a surprised gasp, my other hand moved to take over the stroking of his erection, and I breathed in the hot bread scent of male arousal.

The Professor froze. I held my breath, prepared to make a quick escape if he objected to my presence. He didn’t. Finally he shifted his hips and began to rock in slow hypnotic thrusts against my stroking. When I was certain he was a captive audience, I took my hand away.

He protested with a guttural curse, but I only needed to secure my bandana around his eyes, making sure he couldn’t see. He groaned and squirmed, impatient as any man with full balls and a cock he could hang a ship anchor from.

When the blindfold was in place I moved to stand in front of him, shoving his T-shirt up higher, running my tongue around his little pebble nipples, making his cock surge with each nip and lick. Then I kissed him, feeling his breath released in a sigh as I pressed my breasts against him. While our tongues got acquainted, he worked my shorts down over my hips and cupped my arse cheeks, pulling me closer to his anxious penis.

Now I was sure I must be dreaming. I was about to fuck the unassailable Professor with Mike watching, and no doubt having a good wank. I dropped to my knees, tugging down the Professor’s shorts and underpants as I knelt, then I took his cock in my mouth. He uttered a cry of surprise then a groan of pleasure as he curled his fingers in my hair and held me to him. After just enough deepthroating to torture him, I kissed down the delicious length of him, then insinuated my tongue in tight circular motions over the double swell of his balls nestled in soft dark curls.

‘Oh God,’ he grunted.

I pulled away and stood up in front of him, just out of his reach. He anxiously looked around with sightless eyes, slightly fearful I might leave him unsatisfied.

But there was no chance of that. I dipped two fingers deep in my pussy then lifted them, slippery with my juices, to his nose. He took in my scent with all the enthusiasm of a dog sniffing a bitch on heat. Then he pulled them to his mouth. His tongue lapped the pad of each finger. His hips thrust forward anxiously.

Growing impatient for his cock, I stepped out of my shorts and backed up to him until I could feel him bobbing against my bottom.

‘What the hell?’ He jumped forward, nearly knocking me off balance. But when I regained my footing I saw the cause of his surprise.

There, kneeling behind him, with shorts down around his thighs, was Mike, pumping his hefty erection and nipping the Professor’s clenching arse cheeks with bared teeth. He paused to place a silencing finger to his lips and offer me a wink, then went back to work on the Professor’s undulating arse.

With a startled grunt, the Professor’s hand came to rest on Mike’s penis. For a second the world stopped. Mike and I both held our breath. Surely the jig was up.

But the Professor’s grunt turned to a low chuckle. He gave Mike’s cock an appreciative stroke then turned his attention back to me, grabbing my hips in such a grip that I fought back a yelp of surprise. He spun me around to face him, shoving me down onto the soft moss, forcing my legs apart with his knees. His mouth devoured mine while his large hands slowly groped their way down to my pussy. He ran a calloused thumb over my clit and fingered my lips apart, positioning his cock, all the while trailing kisses down my neck onto my breasts, nibbling hard enough to almost hurt.

I was so hot that I had nearly forgotten Mike, as I arched and writhed. But the Professor always paid attention to details. He snapped his fingers. Mike, in full self-gropage, let out a gasp as the Professor lifted his arse toward Mike and gave it a stroke.

Mike was definitely in over his head. I figured he’d make a break for the hawthorn thicket. But then the Professor stuck his finger in my mouth, and when it was wet with my saliva, he reached back and wriggled it into his own anus! Blindfolded or not, the man knew his way around the situation, and Mike was a very quick study.

When he stuck his middle finger into the Professor’s mouth, my cunt erupted into hard, grasping spasms. My God, I’d never even seen two blokes kissing. I would have never expected Mike to be up for a little guy-on-guy fun, and certainly not with the Professor!

When his finger glistened with the Professor’s saliva, Mike sucked his bottom lip, as though he was deep in concentration. Still tugging hard at his cock with one hand, he shoved and wriggled his finger into the Professor’s tight grip, resulting in a little gasp that turned into a deep-throated sigh, as the Professor leant back, impaling himself completely on Mike’s finger.

Once the Professor was satisfied with Mike’s efforts, he gave one hard shove and a grunt, and he was inside me, buried to the hilt. I bit my lip to keep from crying out as my slick pussy yielded to the size of him.

Instead of thrusting, he held me there, speared through on his cock. His hand snaked down my tummy and in between us to thumb my clit and tease me until I strained upward, trying to thrust. But he held me still.

‘You there.’ His voice startled both Mike and me, sounding loud in the silence. ‘You with the cock, are you going to fuck me or just have a wank?’

Mike suddenly stopped mid-grope. His face reddened, and this time I was sure he’d turn and run.

The Professor chuckled softly, with the patience one would expect from an educator. He was a man used to being in control. And I was beginning to realise he was
still
in control. ‘Look, I’m going to fuck this woman’s lovely cunt, and we’re going to come, and I promise you it’ll be good for both of us. Now do you want to masturbate, or do you want to fuck?’

His last word ended in a grunt and he sucked breath – physical evidence of Mike’s answer. ‘That’s more like it. That’s the spirit. More saliva. Now another finger. Spit.’

Mike obeyed his every command like a schoolboy.

‘Good job, and another finger.’ The Professor’s voice sounded almost as stretched as his arsehole. And at last he was, blessedly, thrusting. First forward into my pussy, then back onto Mike’s fingers. The muscles in Mike’s forearm bulged from his efforts and his eyelids fluttered from the growing urgency I knew he was feeling.

The Professor lifted my legs until they were wrapped around his waist, then he cupped and kneaded my buttocks greedily with each thrust, all the while grunting like a thoroughbred out to stud. Each time he shoved into me, he shifted and undulated and raked me until my clit felt raw and ripe rising up to meet him. Everything in me grasped for him, pulling him deeper, gripping him tighter.

I was on the edge, so close a feather’s touch would have sent me over again when he stopped mid-thrust, arse in the air. ‘Your cock,’ he gasped. ‘Bring it here.’

Suddenly I was looking up at Mike’s bum humping and shoving his penis into the Professor’s mouth. Saliva dribbled onto my breasts and belly with each thrust, and I rubbed the slickness of it against my nipples. Then the Professor pulled back, and ordered. ‘I want it in my arse.’

He cursed under his breath when Mike faltered, then he spoke in his professor voice again. ‘Stick it in now,’ he said between gritted teeth. ‘Trust me. It’ll be so good.’ His eyes moved wildly beneath the blindfold. He lifted his arse so high he would have pulled his cock from my pussy if I’d not had my legs wrapped around him in a stranglehold.

With a growl that sounded like an angry bear, Mike shoved his cock into the Professor’s backside, and the Professor growled back with equal ferocity. There was an awkward moment when we felt like dominos about to topple, then both men found their rhythm, each pump of their buttocks accompanied by tight little grunts. I was almost completely off the ground, wrapped as I was in the Professor’s arms, and he in my legs as I gripped his cock tighter and tighter in my hungry cunt.

Mike had the Professor by the hips, and I could hear the slap of his balls against the man’s arse each time he humped and shoved. It couldn’t last long. God, I wanted it to, but it couldn’t. I was sure we’d all shatter into pieces, entangled and stretched as tightly into each other’s passion as we were.

With every thrust we drew closer and closer. Our breath sounded like a hurricane, our pulse hammered, I heard someone’s joint crack, and yet we thrust harder. Then we stopped breathing. I wasn’t entirely sure we weren’t all going to die from the impact, all thrusting, all pushing, all riding the edge. But at last we came together and collapsed into an oxygen-depleted heap.

I would have loved to stay for a cuddle. I even thought about revealing our identity, but it was just too hot being Professor Ed Thompson’s mystery fuck buddy – make that fuck
buddies
. I pushed him off me and motioned Mike to pull out. The Professor rolled onto his back, chest still heaving. I couldn’t resist. For a second, I laid my head against his shoulder, resting a hand on his chest. Then I kissed his ear and whispered very softly, ‘Eyes closed. Five minutes.’

He nodded understanding. I stood, quickly bundling my panties and shorts under one arm. Mike was already darting for the thicket we’d come from. I kissed my delicious professor hard on the mouth and whispered again, ‘Eyes closed.’ Then I snatched off my bandana and scurried away. I dropped into the seclusion of a dense hedge next to Mike, wiping my pussy with my bandana as we both caught our breath and watched.

Sure enough, five minutes passed, then the Professor walked by, dressed no more carelessly than usual, though I was pretty sure he would give some of the female volunteers a pheromonal banquet if they got close enough for a good sniff. He hurried back to the dig and back to work.

Mike and I exchanged unbelieving smiles, both knowing we’d have a lot to talk about tonight at the pub. And afterwards, whosever room we inevitably ended up in, the sex would be the best ever. I was pretty sure we were both already wondering if the Professor would be back tomorrow – same time, same place. This could be the start of something good. Something really good.