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When I break the kiss, she says, with a heavy voice, “Why don’t we go back to my room?”
“Really?” I chuckle. “I’m in.”
We get up and hurry to exit the park.
We try our best to keep our hands off each other in the cab ride back and giggle as we rush through the mostly quiet campus back to her dorm. She opens the door, and we get in. She shuts it a little too loudly behind her.
I push her against the door, pressing my body against hers. We kiss hungrily, and her hands rub my chest as I squeeze her waist, grinding my hard dick into her. I feel like a boy who’s just discovered what an erection is, and I want to chase the finish line. She nudges me, and I move, but she guides me, so I’m against the door.
She gets on her knees and undoes my belt. I groan with expectation. She frees my erection and immediately starts stroking it.
“I want to be dirty with you,” she breathes, slightly blushing. I lick my lips and nod as she starts to suck on the tip of my hard-on. I groan loudly and grab a fistful of her hair, willing her to take more. She slides my cock into her mouth while she sucks on it. She takes as much as she can until she’s gagging on it, and I can’t explain what that gagging sound does to my twitching cock.
I start to move my hips, holding her head in place while I fuck her pretty little mouth. She fondles my balls as I move, and they tense; I can’t help myself. I want to push deep into her throat, but she pulls away and starts stroking my dick, sticking her tongue out.
“Jesus, where did you learn this?” I gasp, bucking my hips slightly.
She grins as I come on her tongue, getting a little on her face. She wipes it off with her finger before she sucks on her finger and swallows my cum. My dick aches with need.
“Your turn,” I growl, taking her hand and pulling her up. I lead her to her desk, which is against a window. “You want to be a dirty little girl?” I tease, I know what I’m doing, but I don’t know if she does.
“I am a dirty little girl,” she says seductively.
I smirk and pull her pants, and she steps out of them. After paying special attention to my favorite part of her body, her curves. I lift her onto her desk and spread her legs. I sit on her chair, nestling myself between her legs. Her thong is already wet with desire, and I can smell it from where I am. I get closer, and I lick her through the fabric. She tips her head back.
“Tell me where you got this idea,” I murmur, taking control of the situation.
“I read about it in a book,” she breathes.
I chuckle and lick her through her thong again, soaking it with my saliva. “Smutty books, hey? Not bad.”
“Um…”
“Say something dirty to me,” I murmur, tracing a finger down the barely visible line where her lips meet.
“I… um…”
She is breathing harder, so I stick my tongue out and flick at her clit through the fabric. “Say you want me to eat your pussy.”
“Oh, God,” she gasps and reaches a hand down to touch herself, but I smack it away, so she says, “Miguel, please eat my pussy.”
I smirk and move my face close, using my tongue to lick up and down between her folds through the fabric. When I pull away, I see she’s pulled her shirt up, and her one breast is out. She’s playing with the nipple.
I pull the thong to the side and lick between the folds. She’s so wet she coats my tongue. She’s trembling, and I want to rock her world while my dick gets ready to fuck her.
I suck on her clit, and then I flick it with my tongue while I move my head quickly from side to side to give that full vibrator feel. She all but slides forward to be as close to my mouth as possible. I hold her legs as I continue to move, and she starts to whimper. I feel her grab my hair, her turn, I guess, and she starts to buck wildly against my tongue. It’s hard because I’m holding her legs. She tries to squeeze them closed and pull me away, but I hold her tight because I know what’s about to come.
It’s her.
She cries out and leans back. Suddenly, a wave of warm liquid flows over my tongue and lips as she cries out my name. I finally pull back with a smirk and watch her, exhausted.
“Take off your top,” I instruct her as I stand up.
“Miguel,” she breathes, “I’m sorry….”
“Take off your top,” I say again, and she sits up shakily, pulling her top off. I yank her bra down and grab her waist. “Turn over.”
“Miguel, people could see,” she protests, her eyes wide.
