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Passing Notes
Zelda Morgan |
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Construction noises sounded through
the window as the professor started his meaningless droning on
about dates and events two hundred years old. It was hot in the
room—broken air conditioning—and Rachel wished she were able to
remove a few more items of clothing. As it was, she was wearing
very little, in cut off shorts and a tank top.
She was taking half-hearted notes, doodling in the margins of her
notebook, when a piece of folded up paper was slipped under her
arm. It had her name printed on it. Looking around, she saw no one
paying attention to where the note had ended up. She shrugged and
opened it.
“I show up at your door with a single red rose in my hand. You
answer in nothing but a black bra and thong set, with a garter
belt and stockings. You smile and beckon to me to come inside.”
Rachel looked up again, scanning the room wildly. Again, no one
was paying any attention to her, nor did she recognize the
writing. Who had given her this strange note? And why? Did she
dare reply to it? Hell. She was bored, and why not. She picked up
her pen and continued—
“I take the rose and kiss you on the cheek, saying that I need to
put it in water, which I do. You watch my nearly bare ass as I
walk into the kitchen. When I return I see that you have sat down
on the sofa and made yourself comfortable with the television. I
take the remote from you and cast it aside before I straddle your
hips.”
She folded it up and passed it back the way it had come. Watching,
it disappeared into the throng of students. The paper returned a
few minutes later. “You grind your hips into mine and we start
moving together. You lean down to kiss me—gently—but I attack your
mouth and you melt into me. I am getting very excited by your
presence.”
“I can feel your arousal and toy with the zipper of your jeans,
simply to frustrate you. You squirm under me, so I climb aside and
sit next to you, driving you even more insane.”
The paper came back to her. “You are truly evil. Sometimes naughty
little girls need to be punished. Would you like to be punished?”
She almost laughed. Who was this person? She blended her reply
back into the prose. “ ‘Yes, I want to be punished,’ I whisper
into your ear. My tongue darts out and licks your ear lobe.”
“Well then. I pull you onto my lap, facedown on the couch, your
lovely little bottom up in the air. I trace the edges of your
stockings with my fingertips, lightly running them up the garter
straps and over your ass. I caress you softly.”
One of Rachel’s hands was resting on her lap, and she found her
fingers attempting to rub herself through her cut-offs. “I sigh
happily and grind my pussy into your lap. You’ve got me so worked
up with anticipation.”
“I have you fully enraptured when I bring down my palm, spanking
you only hard enough for it to sting. I do this several times,
then stoke your reddening skin. Slipping my hand down between your
legs I feel that you’ve become very wet over a few spankings.”
“You keep your hand between my legs, pulling aside the tiny strip
of fabric covering my pussy…” God, she couldn’t believe she was
writing this out of boredom—and enjoying it way too much! “You
slip a finger between my wet folds fingering my clit. I moan and
push myself against you.”
“I smile and run the fingers of my free hand through your hair as
I continue to fondle your clit. When I push a finger inside of
you, you gasp in surprise. I work your clit as I finger you,
moving in and out slowly as you rock your hips.”
“Despite my want, I sit up and start unbuttoning your shirt. You
help me along, and you are soon down to just your underwear. My
face is level with your waist.”
“I pull down my boxers—I always wear boxers—and my hard cock is
finally free. You take it into your hand and pump it a few times.
‘Oh God,’ I mutter. You grin and then kiss the head of it gently.
I beg for more.”
“I tell you to lay down on the couch. Leaning over you I slowly
draw you into my mouth, swirling my tongue over the head, sucking
gently. Your hips buck at the sensation, which I call as my cue to
suck harder. After a moment or two I get on the couch as well,
straddling you in the 69 position.”
“I lick the insides of your thighs, slowly working my way to your
central core. I have to concentrate very hard, because your mouth
on my penis is driving me insane. The second the tip of my tongue
touches your clit you grind down on me, fucking my face. I lick
and suck eagerly, and you do the same.”
“You feel so good I want to scream. Your tongue laps at my juices,
and I am going insane. Your fingers find a way back into me and I
push myself against you, wanting. I feel everything building up
inside of me. I start to shake as I orgasm, grinding into your
face even harder. When you pull away, you suggest we go upstairs
to my bedroom. I agree breathlessly.”
Rachel was very much in need, and wished class was over, desperate
to find a bathroom and relieve herself. She had never masturbated
in a public place, but didn’t care. She sent the paper back, now
on it’s second page.
“I grab at your ass as we go upstairs and you giggle. Once
upstairs, I throw you on the bed. I slip your sopping wet
underwear off, but leave the stockings and bra on. I like them. I
move my hands over your breasts, then follow with kisses. My hands
slip down over your stomach and part your legs, revealing your
pretty pink nether lips.”
“I reach down and stroke your erection, making it so hard it’s
like brick. ‘I want you to fuck me,’ I say softly. ‘Please. Fuck
me hard.’ “
Rachel looked up as she passed it back and realized that people
were getting up to leave. Class was over, and she had no idea what
the lecture had been about. The letter came back one more time as
students started to file out the room. “I straddle your hips an
place the head of my cock at your opening. I push in slowly…TO BE
CONTINUED.” |
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