Study Buddies

Study Buddies Ch. 07:

Window of Opportunity

Tell me what you want me to do

Tags:

Non-consent

Reluctance

Seduction

Submission

Domination

Public

Exhibitionist

The next day, there was a knock on my door. With fear in my chest, I asked, "Who is it?"

My dad's voice said, "Your study buddy is here again to work on your next assignment." He opened the door with a smile, while Jake loomed over his shoulder.

"You should feel very proud of your daughter, sir."

I winced, knowing my father would feel ashamed if he only knew what I had done.

"How's that, son?"

"Well, sir, she's made tremendous improvement."

I averted my eyes.

"During our little session yesterday, she did her best work yet. She broke through barriers that were holding her back. She gave it a tremendous effort, bared herself, and finished strong. You wouldn't believe how she opened up and took in everything I gave her. She deserves top marks."

"That's great to hear! Your partnership seems to be bearing fruit. Cindy, you just keep listening to whatever Jake tells you, and trying your best to do what he says. Now, I'll leave you two alone so you can get busy."

I smiled weakly as he closed the door.

"I'm proud of you, too, Cindy," Jake said, as he propped his phone up on my desk.

I looked up from the phone to his face. "You are?"

He nodded.

"That's not what I expected to hear after what happened between us yesterday." I glanced back at the phone. "I feel ashamed. I'm embarrassed by how I acted. I shouldn't have done those things. I've sinned and now I must pray for forgiveness. How will I ever face my fiancé again? What if my parents find out? How can I ever set my foot in church again? Oh, what have I done!?"

"Cindy, stop. You're rambling. Stop. Look at me."

I halted my diatribe, and looked up at him with tears forming in my eyes.

"Do your parents and your fiancé want you to do well in school?"

I sniffed and gave a barely perceptible nod.

"That's what you're doing. I meant what I said to your father. Yesterday's submission was your best yet. You're on the right track, but you still need a little more work..."

"You mean there were typos? It was very difficult to type accurately while we were...you know, doing it." I was almost as horrified by the idea of having mistakes as I was by my inappropriate actions.

"Well, you were a little distracted while you composed it," he grinned. "But for the first time, I was so caught up in your story that I didn't notice the errors until I re-read it a second time. The content is authentic. It's firsthand and first rate! The plot is entirely credible. And the descriptive vocabulary feels..." he paused, searching for the right phrase, "...fully immersive."

"Um, thank you," I whispered.

He was turning my mood around. The guilt was receding, slowly being replaced by relief at his approval.

"I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. It's helping. Why are you propping up your phone?"

He ignored my question and stepped close to me, making me nervous. "You're going to feel even better when I help you write the next chapter." He encircled my waist with his arms.

With nowhere to put my own arms, I awkwardly placed my hands on his biceps. His hard muscles distracted me from my nervousness, as I noticed how big and firm they were. "Weren't you content with what happened yesterday? Didn't I already give you everything you wanted?"

As I listened to my words, I wondered if I was asking him or asking myself. Maybe both.

"You know I was content yesterday. You wore my contentment all over your tits."

I blushed at the memory and at his crude language.

"But, today is a new day, and we need fresh material for the next chapter." He put his hands on my shoulders and turned my body so that I was facing the full-length mirror next to my desk. "

I want you to relax and enjoy this." He began to massage my shoulders. I was anxious and I knew he could feel the tension. He relaxed my muscles, until I closed my eyes and gave myself over to him.

"This feels good, Jake," I sighed. "Thank you. It's just what I needed. But we should stop. I shouldn't allow you to touch me. What we did yesterday was wrong and we need to end it before..."

"It's much too late for that. We're not going to stop; we're going to progress. And you're going to enjoy it more and more. Now, watch the reflection."

I looked at us in the mirror. Jake brushed back my hair, bent his head, and kissed my neck. His soft lips on my sensitive neck made me melt. Like a vampire draining my blood, I felt resistance leave my body. I moaned aloud.

He slowly began to pull the hem of my T-shirt up, revealing my belly button. "Keep watching."

I was still trying to form objections in my mind, but the woman in the mirror didn't reflect that hesitation. Her breath was shallow and her cheeks were flushed. She watched in fascination, as her torso came into view.

He paused as the fabric bunched up under the curve of her breasts.

"Tell me what you want me to do next." He looked me in the eyes via the mirror.

"I think I should tell you to stop, to let me go," I murmured. It didn't sound convincing, even to me.

"I asked you what you wanted--not what you thought. Your thoughts are contaminated by the archaic values of long-dead fanatics. Instead, tell me what your body is craving."

"My body craves your touch, but shouldn't I be writing? You said we would write."

"Good girl. Yes. We can do both. Keep your feet where they are, but lean over your desk and open your laptop."

I stretched my arms and opened it. "Begin writing the next chapter."

It was slightly awkward to bend forward to type, while watching what was happening in the mirror, but I did as he said, my eyes darting back and forth.

He inched the fabric of my shirt over the curve of my full, ripe breasts, revealing a plain white bra. When he pulled it up to past my cleavage, he cleared his throat. Attuned to his unspoken desires, I knew what he wanted without him voicing it. I lifted my typing hand and he pulled the sleeve off my arm. Next, I switched hands and he pulled the other sleeve free. Then he pulled the shirt over my head, loosening my ponytail in the process. He pulled the hair tie free and my hair fell over my shoulders. He grinned salaciously.

"Keep typing." His dark eyes stared at me through the reflection. "You told me you wanted to write. I'll provide you with fodder for your story."

I nodded and pecked at the keys.

He unhooked my bra, and I felt the weight of my breasts fall forward, dangling down like a beast in heat. He placed his hands on my shoulders, and turned me slightly, so that the screen of the laptop wouldn't block the view of my body. Satisfied that I could witness my own debauchery, he slid the straps off my shoulders. My bare boobs hung heavy and obscene, waiting for his touch.

"You are the author of this scene. Describe what you see," he insisted.

"Okay, but we should probably stop." I ignored myself and complied, despite my doubts, despite knowing he wouldn't stop, knowing that neither of us wanted him to stop.

He kissed my neck again. I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the touch of his lips upon my sensitive skin. He licked my earlobe, eliciting a shiver. When my eyelids fluttered open again, I was turned on beyond turning back. My breasts felt engorged, and looked heavy as they rose and fell on my chest with each inhalation and exhalation. The dusky areolas contrasted with the pale skin, untouched by the rays of the sun. They surrounded the large nipples, appearing like prominent bullseyes for whoever aimed at them. I saw in his dark eyes that they had already succeeded in focusing his attention on the targets. His hands slid roughly down my arms and landed on my belly. I gasped. His tongue licked the front of his teeth in anticipation and appreciation, like a predator that has already caught his prey. I watched as his hands slid up my torso, causing me to squirm, but I didn't try to break free. The woman in the reflection wanted this, wanted him to keep going, wanted all of it.

"Don't stop," he instructed.

'No, please don't stop. Keep going.' I typed as best I could as his fingertips reached the curve delineating my breasts from my belly, my flesh changing direction dramatically and enticingly. Flat, hard ribs turned into soft mounds of pert abundance. His hands explored the transition in the consistency of my flesh from sinewy abdominal muscles to soft, pliant globes. I sucked in my breath and held it as he cupped my weighty boobs. Then he squeezed, the ripe flesh squishing between his outstretched fingers. He groaned and I moaned. I was delighted at how much my body pleased him, and rolled my shoulders back to press more of my tits into his contracting grasp.

"Mmm. You clearly want this. Tell me how much you crave my hands on your body."

"Yes, I want it. I want you to touch me, please. Yes, your hands - all over my body."

My brain heard the woman in the mirror declare her desire for him and was horrified at her lasciviousness. 'Remember your virtue!' The girl tried to rally, but the woman wasn't listening anymore because his fingertips had found her nipples and were tenderly playing with them as she moaned. I closed my eyes and luxuriated in the sensation, unable to write for a glorious moment of bated breath. When he noticed that I had ceased to type, he pinched my erect flesh, simultaneously sending an electric shock to my groin and pain to my nipples. My eyes flew open.

"I said keep writing." He glared at me so intensely, it frightened me. I resumed typing, wishing I had free hands to massage my aching nipples and type at the same time.

"Satisfied that I was submitting to his demands, his hands slid down to my sweatpants and began to untie the thin string that held them over my hips. The clothing wasn't sexy, I thought, but the sweats were easy, and at that moment, that's what I wanted--ease. I wanted to give him speedy access so he can take what he wants and give me what I desire. When the string was untied, the fabric loosened around my waist. He gently slid it over the flare of my hips and the prominence of my bottom. He smiled as it fell to the floor around my ankles. His eyes took in my body, now clad only in plain, thin, white panties. My eyes followed his, as they traveled up my legs to my crotch.

"Tell me," he said simply.

I knew what he wanted. And in spite of the faint voice in my head still quietly pleading with me to keep the last barrier of fabric protecting what was left of my dignity, I wanted to give him exactly what he wanted because it was what I wanted, too.

"Pull my panties down, please."

He peeled them down slowly. I felt the gusset stick to my crotch's wetness for a tantalizingly brief moment, before continuing down to my ankles. I stepped out of them. We both stood, looking at my naked body exposed in the mirror.

"Place the laptop on the edge of your bed, near the window. Kneel. Keep typing while I disrobe. I want you write about how you feel while I prepare to fuck you.

I gulped.

His crudeness shocked me. And yet, his blunt directions also turned me on. There was no ambiguity in his language. There was no guessing about his intent. He was going to fuck me no matter what. There was no doubt about it. But I wanted him to fuck me too. I was filled with a sense of dread about the wrongness of it all, and yet I was also dripping with desire. I knew it was inappropriate and I should stop it, but my body craved him more than anything. I was shaking with anxiety and with anticipation. My eyes watched him remove his shirt with fascination. His magnificent chest warmed my heart and pumped blood through my veins and into my groin. The way his bicep bulged as he unfastened his belt with one hand made me whimper out loud. It was a struggle to keep typing as I witnessed this handsome man strip in front of me, preparing to take me. When he pulled his pants down, I sucked in my breath. His erection was prominent, barely contained in his briefs, straining against the thin fabric in bas-relief. I could discern every line and curve of his throbbing member. 'Please,' I muttered.

"Please."

"If this is what you want, I will give it to you."

I hadn't realized I had said that out loud. Embarrassed by my wanton desire, I averted my eyes, and looked back at my computer. "Yes, please."

"Look at me."

I turned my head, my eyes locked on his groin.

"Yes, please what? Focus on the quality of your writing."

I turned back to my laptop.

"You should be clear in your use of language."

He was going to make me say it aloud. Ashamed, I complied. 'Please take off your underwear and put your turgid erection inside me. My core is wanting.

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

I nodded in affirmation. "Yes, yes I do."

'Yes, please. I want you to fuck me. I want your hard dick to fuck my hot, wet pussy.' My crude language both horrified me and excited me with its dirty depravity. He pulled down his underwear revealing his dusky meat with prominent veins snaking around the shaft. It stood up straight and pulsed with life. It looked dangerous and it scared me. But that's what I wanted. I needed his taboo erection inside of me. 'Please fuck me. Please fuck me with your hard cock.' He knelt behind me, and pushed my ankles to either side of his knees, opening me wide for him. He opened the curtain covering the window halfway, revealing my naked body to the sunshine, but keeping himself concealed in the shadows.

"What are you doing?" I panicked. "I'm exposed! Someone could see in. Paul could see me!"

"You are a writer. You will write because you must, because your audience demands that you write, because you are compelled to write. You promised me that you would do anything I wanted and I am telling you to capture this moment in print. Now, describe this..."

He eased his hips forward and pushed his glans against my labia. Oh my lord, that feels divine! I quickly forgot about the risk of being seen and luxuriated in the sensation of the flared head of his cock sliding up and down my slick slit. I was slippery with desire and soon the pressure of his thick fleshy rod was parting my engorged labia, allowing him to plow my furrow, and press against my clitoris with every forward thrust. I began to moan quietly. It was so challenging to type while he was teasing me, but he insisted, and I wanted to do everything he told me to do. I wanted to please him, to satisfy him, to satisfy me. His entire length was now thoroughly coated with my juices. I wanted more. I wanted him all the way inside. 'Please put it in me. Stick it all the way inside. I want you desperately. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!'

Suddenly, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. I stopped typing and looked out the window.

"Don't move," Jake commanded.

I froze.

"Hi there, Cindy! Is that you over there?"

"Stay low. Just show him your head. Steady your voice and answer him."

I slowly turned my head to look out. It was Paul.Oh, my god! He's going to catch us! What should I do?I took a deep breath.

"Oh, Paul." I tried to sound casual, but my voice sounded strained and breathless.

"What are you up to?" Paul asked.

"I, uh, I'm busy." It sounded pathetic, but my brain wasn't fully functioning.

"Doing what?"

"Um..." Jake pushed his cock slowly into my vagina, stretching me before him, causing me to groan loud enough for Paul to hear me. "I'm uh, stretching. Yeah, I'm uh, exercising."

"That explains why you look so sweaty and flushed."

Jake slid his dick nearly all the way out and then pushed slowly back in. I grunted. "Mmph. Yeah, I'm getting a good workout." I lowered my head to my bed and bit my comforter to stifle a moan. Jake kept thrusting in and out of me. It was driving me wild and I couldn't maintain a casual conversation.

"This pandemic isolation is getting to me. I really wish I could get out of the house. I sure would like to spend some time with you. I miss holding your hand. How about you?"

"Yeah, I don't like being alone. It's nice to be with someone. Ah!"

"Are you exercising right now?"

"Mmm-hmm." It was difficult to answer. Jake was increasing his pace, thrusting into me harder, making me lurch forward.

"Ah."

Jake grabbed my hips and pulled me into him. He lay down on the carpet, pulling me with him. I remained skewered on his erection the entire time. My hands rested on his thighs. He grabbed my butt and began to lift me up and down on top of him.

"What kind of exercise are you doing now?"

"Uh, squats," I yelled a little too loudly. Then I stage-whispered to Jake, "Don't lift me up too high. He'll see I'm not wearing a shirt!"

"What's that you said?" asked Paul.

"Nothing. Ungh! It's just hard, really hard," I panted.

"Yeah, it can get very hard," he concurred, "but it will be great for your body. You might get tired and sore, but keep pushing and you'll feel great when you finish."

You have no idea!I thought.

Jake was pistoning in and out of me at such a rapid pace that I was practically bouncing on top of him, my breasts jiggling wildly just beneath the level of the windowsill.

"Wow, Cindy. You're really going for it! Good for you! It's great to watch you be so enthusiastic, so animated. Be careful not to exert yourself too hard. You look like you might pass out."

"Ah, just let me, mmm, finish. I'll come talk to you later. Oh! Okay?"

"Okay. I hope you have a lot of fun!"

"I am!"

I pulled the curtain closed just before Jake pushed me face down into the carpet. He mounted me from on top and slammed into my rear end. I gasped. He thrust into me over and over, the flesh on my bottom rippling obscenely upon impact. My whimpers came rhythmically, in a steady staccato. He reached around and slid his hand under my crotch and began to rub my clitoris.

"Tell me what you want," he demanded.

"I want you to give me another orgasm," I gasped.

He rubbed my clitoris and thrust deeply at the same time. He held still for a few seconds. I felt his penis jerk inside me as he groaned in a gravely, animalistic grunt. His spasming cock tipped me over the edge and made me explode.

"Ahh! Oh my, oh! Oh, oh, oh!" I bit my hand to keep from screaming as my body shook uncontrollably. My vagina pulsed and squeezed his cock as he throbbed and squirted inside me. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

He lay on top of me, both of us still, except for our panting. After a while, he slipped out of me and got up. I still couldn't move. I felt globs of cum drip out of me, trickle down my crack, and puddle on the carpet. Finally, I turned my head to see that he was getting dressed.

"That should give you enough material for the next chapter. You already have a great start, but you still need to add that last part when you were too distracted to type. Send it to me when you are done. I look forward to reading it. If it's as good as I expect, maybe Paul will want to read it, too."

*****

Study Buddies Ch. 07

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