Latoya Licks' Spot 18A

Latoya is a work of fiction. You are reading the alter ego perspective of a single, sexually liberated, woman living in the heart of Toronto. These are her stories.

London in Toronto : a Latoya story

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I scrolled through my phone, curiously clicking on the nudes that were in my inbox. Her body tight, covered with expression, tattoos and piercings. More tats than I remember. I smiled to myself feeling aroused and in awe. She was a 10 and she knew it. Her body perfect, her features flawless. As I flipped through, a tingling feeling pushed past the numbness I had been wallowing in and found its way through to the surface.

She was proud of her body and it showed. Her sitting in a chair, hand slightly squeezing her bare lips affectionately, erotically.

I paused at the last picture, slowly enlarging her head shot. Fair skinned and young. Perhaps too young I thought, knowing that she was older now than the last time I had her. I knew I was just making excuses. Her eyes looked sad, contradicting her bright smile, dimming it a little bit. Sad girls had always been my specialty.

I tweeted my thanks to her publicly, using ellipses to allude to more gratitude than that still. She followed up with an iMessage that made me smile. She was coming to the city. Her assumption was right, I was lonely and needed the distraction. Also, she missed my “warm mouth and good company.”

I shook my head at her crude summary of us in our entirety, but she wasn’t far from the mark. I liked her wild spirit, it was contagious and freeing. It was a rare flower to find that didn’t flinch when challenged to step out of the comfort zone, to truly push the limits. She reminded me about the promises I’d made from the last time. I laughed when she asked if I still remembered our “safe word. “I remembered. I remembered everything, including her open offer of “If I were still single and she were in my town…” I asked her if she could get the thing that we had last time she was here. She hesitated before letting me know she had since kicked the habit. I frowned and shrugged before I licked my lips, imagining that if memory served me correctly, she was naturally potent enough to get us where we wanted to be anyway.

Emojis and flirtations ensued before the plan was firm. Drinks, downtown. A new place she had heard about the last time she had been in the city. She inquired about the expense, I ignored it. Although I don’t always offer, this time I would take care of any and all cost. I wanted to take a few things out on her, the least I could do was provide the space.

I thought about my own king sized bed, tainted with memories that I almost felt protective of still. No, I wouldn’t bring her to my home. I screen shot the hotel reservation I was making and sent it to her. One night in my favourite suite and then she could go back to her business in the city. She was excited. A slow arousal tingled throughout my body as I looked around, suddenly aware of where I was. I looked up on the train only to catch the eye of a young black guy smirking at me with his earbuds in, seemingly completely in tune with the deviousness in my phone. My smile turned cold as we caught eyes and he looked away.

Focusing back on the task at hand I typed rapidly in response to her latest question. She liked my response and apparently so did my clit as it suddenly made it’s presence known in the discomfort of my stockings. I crossed and uncrossed my legs, trying to control the pleasure of the anticipation. It had been at least a month since… A deep breath and a moment of meditation calmed me as a new notification flipped over in my iMessages. The exact type of message that could and would fuck up my entire day. I read it through narrowed eyes and felt a familiar irritation course through me. I debated between a long response and pretending I hadn’t seen it and chose the latter.

The hold on me from just a text to my phone still astounded me every single time. I flipped back to my “out of town friend” and firmed up our plans. Dirty messages and a pierced nipple selfie flipped a onto my home screen, offering me guilt and pleasure at the exact same time. Like a faucet, I turned off her power over me and allowed lust to take the wheel.

I deleted the uninvited text and went further towards that old feeling of not feeling. Went back to my connection without baggage. Physical and guttural desire that had been dormant swirled to life in my mind as I sent her my wants, something I knew she would like. Things that would make other girls blush, but not London. She never used the safe word. Instead she would ask me to repeat acts for her in that throaty moan that made me want to comply.

I arrived at work, ready to step into my day. That’s what I liked about her most, women like her offered the ease of the attention I need when I wanted it or space. No pressure. No promises. I closed my phone and allowed the anticipation of Friday night to hit me, when I would have London in Toronto.

The Birth of Latoya Licks

Three years ago, I was awoken from my sleep in the middle of the night. I reached for a notepad on the nightstand and began plotting the very first thoughts. Her first thoughts. It was one of those true and rare ‘aha’ moments that hit me with full force. My vision, blurry from sleep, was as clear and sound as my own voice. I could not yet picture this woman who whispered me from my dream, but there was just so much passion seething under the surface in her tone. I could feel it.

My scratchy handwriting could barely keep up with the vivid sequences unfolding in dialogue on paper, using me as its vessel. I knew then, that I was barely scratching the surface of this character’s motivation. I could feel the grip she had on me, how badly she wanted to become real. And that she was going to use me to do it.

I took to writing the book of Latoya’s Chronicles straight away. The format was in the form of the reader having a voyeuristic insight into the double life exploits of this every day career woman that suddenly awoken one day as this alter ego she named, Latoya. She re-invented and liberated herself in ways she preciously could not have imagined. But that was just it, she didn’t have to. Latoya did it for her. What made it even easier for this transformation to occur, was the matrix like world wide platform that is Twitter.

With the same intensity Latoya used to explode from my conscious, she was introduced to the twitterverse as Latoya Licks. It took but a matter of moments to create an account for this persona, and just like that, she was real.

She began tweeting. She tweeted her wants, her needs, her most crude desires. Some of it was for shock value but mostly it was to entice herself. She liked how it felt, the power to stir up the internet at the whims of her fingertips. The following grew almost immediately. In her timeline, she would unleash a side of herself so uninhibited, so carnal and aggressive that it could not be ignored. Woman and men alike would follow and engage. All of them curious as to the woman behind the Latoya timeline.

It began with one or two encounters, awkward and fumbling at first. But then she began to see herself through the eyes of her lovers. She saw their need for her to be who they thought she was. In seeking her own fantasy world, she had become theirs. The power of it all was intoxicating.

Gaining confidence through the eyes of those who desired her, it became easier. Ignoring the moral compass that had guided her throughout her life, she embraced the new and seedy version of herself, embracing it. She could feel the changes.

Eventually the gratification of orgasm and fantasy lost some of its lustre and she began to crave more. Drugs and alcohol numbed the desire for more than just physical gratification, offering extreme highs and countered with inevitable lows. Latoya’s worlds began to collide and the fall from grace was met with a heavy blow, crumbling both reality and fantasy as she knew it.

Months ago, that is where I left this character last. Confused and alone, struggling personally and professionally, hiding her addictions to anti-depressants and anonymous sex.

I felt badly about abandoning this story, but truthfully I needed her voice out of my head for a while.

I’ve tried to move on to other projects, I’ve tried to forget about Latoya but it has become clear that I cannot. Although her voice is quiet now inside of my head, I can still feel the tingles from that first night when she manifested herself inside of me.

I know that this sleeping giant is resting still inside of me but I feel the presence there. This story continues to haunt me whispering softly, in ways only other writers might understand. I know it won’t release its grasp until her story is told. So today, I resurrect the character of @Latoya Licks and I will finish what I started. I have a story inside of me and I’m going to tell it.

The View from the Penthouse

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It had been a difficult week.  For more reasons than I care to mention, I had been trying to forget it since Friday night.  I emptied the last of the moscato into my wine glass as I shuffled through the first of several stacks of briefing notes that would be due in the morning.  I remember the annoyance, tensing my shoulders as I tried to let the essential aromatherapy oil melt away at my stress.  Closing my eyes, I leaned back into the chaise lounge beside my desk and grabbed at my iphone.  The stress clenched my neck muscles as I muddled through my emails from work.

That’s until I saw that I had a new email message, from Her.

I sat up slowly when I clicked on her name and felt a familiar excitement.  I could feel a smile trying to pinch at the corner of my mouth as I fell softly into a nostalgic place.  She was good, it had been awhile, she was thinking of me, wanted to say hi etc…  I let my eyes run over updates about her pet, her marriage and her happy life.  I swallowed the resentment that tried to crawl up the back of my throat like nausea and silenced the residual bitterness that I was able to forget about until moments like this.

The last paragraph let me know that she would be in the city tonight; she was organizing another one of those community functions and wanted to know if she could meet me for a drink.  I forced the swallow down my throat and felt the wave of excited relief wash over me as my memories crept from the corners of my mind, like ghosts.  She had messaged me.  She wanted a drink.

I reached for my wine and forced myself to place my phone back down and think before responding.  If it had been any other of those women flashing notifications in my personal email, it would have gone easily ignored underneath the priorities of work pending for me the next day, but it wasn’t.  I still don’t know what it is about her that made me forget myself entirely, but that’s what she does.

I gathered my documents and pushed them into their respective folders and pushed closed my desk drawers.  Court wouldn’t be until 10am.  Sleep was for the weak anyway, I thought as I continued to clear my work away.  My body tingled with muscle memory of the orgasm she had last left me with.  I still remember the contrasted emotions I felt, still shivering with the aftershocks and feeling a low level anxiety of helplessness as she slid each leg back into her thong.  Her phone had rang while my tongue was inside of her and she still had gotten up to answer it.  I remember vowing to myself while I watched her rush around my condo, getting her things prepared so that she could run away from me, I remember thinking, I’ll never let her do this to me again.  I didn’t move when she kissed me goodbye, didn’t respond to her the next day either.  That was 8 months ago.  Sure there had been others since her but it wasn’t the same.  I couldn’t recreate what I felt with her.

I grabbed my phone off of the table and responded to my weakness, we would meet for drinks.  At our old spot in an hour.  Leaving the study I aimed the remote at my ipod speaker and put on her favourite playlist.  We had laughed about it when I created it, she knew how I felt about relationships, yet this playlist was everything to the contrary.  I had shrugged away her inquiries, knowing full well that I would never tell her that the words in these songs was everything that I could not and would not, ever tell her.

I closed the door to the study, mentally filing away the work I had to do and tossed the phone on the couch and headed down the hallway towards my room.  I slowed down my stride long enough to glance at the rainbow stretching through the entire skyline outside my window.  I shook my head in awe as I watched the clouds stir softly, framing the sunset. I felt happy as I shook my hair out of its messy ponytail and followed the sunset down the hall.  A year later and I still marvel at the view.

An hour and a half later I sat in the booth at Joey’s, glancing every so often out the window at Dundas Square as the events wrapped up.  I saw her walking as soon as I got here, but I had already been prepared to wait.  Instead I watched her work, moving in and out of crowds, being tapped on the shoulder by her staff.  Still young, talented and ambitious.  She enjoyed her work and it showed.  I frowned to myself remembering more than one night with her crying on my balcony with a drink in her hand, more than one occasion, feeling unsupported to do what she loved.  I crossed and uncrossed my legs, feeling the urge to throw back my drink and go back home to the hours of work waiting for me.  I didn’t get up though, instead I ordered another drink.

Her text let me know she had seen me too and would be there in 5.

Impatiently, I waited.

Her five was more like ten as I watched her enter the restaurant and smile in my direction.  It felt like no time had gone by at all.  I returned her smile as I took in her uniform, an adidas tracksuit and large hoop earrings.  I expected that she would perform in addition to organizing the event she spoke about.  She could never stay away from the stage, it seemed to always call her back, no matter what she tried to do to the contrary.  I was glad for her that she was no longer fighting against the woman that she truly was.  She even looked more comfortable in her own skin.  She joked that even outside of the office I looked ready for court.  I glanced down self-consciously before dismissing her joke as just that.  She fell into my arms in a hug that neither one of us wanted to let go.  We did though.  She had changed her fragrance, I noticed.  I liked it but was disappointed.  I would sometimes pass by the perfume counter during my walk up to the office suites through the Bay and I would spray her favourite scent on a tester stip.  Yes, I had missed her.

We didn’t eat and she passed on my offer for a drink, instead opting for a tea.  She had me thrown at the awkward request for a meeting for a ‘drink with a friend’ but I ordered her tea and sipped my hennesy on the rocks, following my instincts I silently waited.

She wasted no time.  She jumped us back into the past as she apologized for the way things had ended.  I shrugged it off and began my disclaimer of having known what I was getting myself into when we had gotten involved.  She waved a hand at what we both knew and stopped me to apologize again.  Her hand moved across the table to squeeze mine, a gesture that made my chest feel warmer than was comfortable.

I cleared my throat before squeezing and then releasing her hands grasp on mine.  “How is your family?” I asked in a voice that sounded more like a statement than a question.  She met my eyes and held it as well before losing the staring contest and looking away.  She went into the same old spiel, he didn’t understand her, she wasn’t unhappy but she wasn’t happy either.  She missed me.  I finished my drink and ordered another as I let her talk.  She kept wanting to hear me say something but I wasn’t sure what it was, nor did I want to know.

I asked for the cheque more abruptly than I had meant to, in a way that awkwardly silenced the conversation.  I paid cash and stood up, not feeling like waiting for the change.  She stood too, a disappointment in her eyes.  I exhaled deeply before starting to walk away.  “You coming?” I asked over my shoulder, not slowing down a step to wait for her to decide.

She moved towards the subway and I shook my head, hailing a cab away from the crowd, for the 10 minute ride back to my home. I looked out the window and frowned at incoming email in my phone as she fidgeted with her necklace, pretending not to be nervous.

Once we were upstairs, she was standoffish at the door, watching me move around, turning on music, dimming lights, opening wine.  I walked back up to her, two glasses in my hand, handing her one.  This drink she accepted.

“where does he think you are?”  I asked.

She stumbled on her words and I let her explain her lie, a moment I usually would have spared us both.  She put down her glass.  She told me something was off, she didn’t like how ‘this’ was making her feel.  I almost laughed at her nerve.  “How she felt, how he felt, how the kids would feel.”  I shook my head slowly, beginning to feel the effects of the drinks at the bar underneath the wine I was tossing back a little too liberally.

I put down my glass and pulled her towards me.  She followed.

On the couch I helped her to relax, I knew there had never been another besides me.  I knew why she was here and that she would leave again.

I kissed her neck tenderly, I gave her pressure but not enough to leave a mark.  I gave her the intimacy that she was wordlessly complaining about, the part that she was always able to pull from me unlike any other woman before her.  I let my tongue slide along her neckline and suck slowly on her earlobe, until I heard it.  That soft, almost inaudible, release of breath from her mouth.  That first little moan.  With Her, her body had always told me exactly what she wanted, even with her inexperience, I didn’t even need for her to express that to me, it was like I had some sort of intuition that was specific to her body, her pussy.

I teased her, made her wait as my hands rubbed at her nipple through her clothing, knowing she wanted me to squeeze them, the way I used to.  But, I made her wait.  She writhed underneath me as my tongue switched sides, switched tempo as she responded to my touch.

That went on for awhile until she got impatient and pushed me off of her and then down on my own couch.  She was here for something specific, and was determined to get it.

I leaned back, impressed with her assertive impulse, something I wasn’t used to, well…not with her anyway.  She pushed me back before standing above me and removing her clothes.  Naked, waxed, beautiful.  She let me look, not unlike the first time.  I smiled as my eyes took mental pictures of what I had missed so very much.  She asked, as if reading my mind.  I didn’t give her the satisfaction and remained silent as she climbed up to her position. Her eyes locked on mine, desperate for something from me that I wouldn’t give her.  Instead I broke her gaze and felt my mouth watering as her both familiar and unfamiliar scent hovered over my face, waiting for me to take what we had spent months pretending was mine.

I lost the standoff as I wrapped both arms around each thigh and pushed my lips deep into hers, with my tongue burrowing further than that.  I nuzzled my face into her pussy firmly, holding her in place so she couldn’t get away.  Her thighs tightened around my face, her hands pulled fistfuls of my freshly relaxed hair as my tongue visited an old friend.

She came fast the first time, my mouth open and willing as I rode the wave of her orgasm, her fingers intertwining with mine, as if she still got scared at the intensity of it all.  Her body shook free of it as I felt her start to return to earth, having ascended beyond this place.  I wish I understood Spanish as she mumbled what sounded like a prayer as I stirred her slowly, preparing her for another ride.

Music played as she exorcised her demons on my face, rocking back and forth, sometimes looking possessed as she freed what had been laying dormant inside of her for all of this time.  The last orgasm was violent; it felt angry as she pushed back against me with a force.  I didn’t hold back either, I matched her intensity, holding off my own climax until she leaned down and whispered in my ear that thing that she knew would push me over the top.  My body lost its battle and surrendered to the cum, it started from my toes and vibrated up my spine until I couldn’t take it anymore.  She held me through it, massaging my face lightly with her fingers, letting me get off on the illusion of our connection, telling me with her eyes and her touch that it was still real.

I felt the stickyness in my jeans and shook my head in astonishment.  She was the only woman who could make me cum like that.  Without touching me in a sexual way.  The energy between us had always been electric since day one.  It wasn’t surprising that it was still just as strong.  I sat up next to her on the couch, the two of us looking out of the window, gazing at the CN tower lit up in the skyline, sipping wine.

She was the first to get up, gathering her things.  I watched her check her phone, frowning, texting.  She saw me watching and stepped towards me, wanting a kiss.  I denied her that validation and drank my wine instead, my eyes cold against her wounded look.  She gathered her things in silence before reaching for her bag and moving towards the door.

“You know, I had hoped for…” she trailed off, glancing towards the bedroom.  I shook my head, growing more annoyed with her, with myself by the minute.

“What do you need that for?  Don’t you have dick at home?  Go and fuck your husband.  He actually has one of those remember?  It’s attached.  Go and get what’s real.”

I walked towards the wall unit and shut off the music.  Ignoring her humiliation, her hurt, I waited for her to put her shoes back on.

Usually I paid for her cab fare home, but not tonight.  She had gotten what she came for.  Hell, maybe she should have been paying me.  It was practically a service.

She turned the knob before turning around like she had forgotten something.

“fuck you.” She told me before leaving my home.

“No thanks,” I mumbled to the closed door and fell back into the couch where we had just made violent love.  Only neither of us would call it that.  I went to pour another drink, her taste was still on my tongue, my fingers.  Hell, I’m not sure either one of us really even knew what love is.  That concept might be lost on me entirely.  But this empty feeling?  This anger, which I would turn into insomnia and productivity? This feeling was all too familiar.

I’m back.

I know I said I was gone.  But I’m back.  It goes that way sometimes. 

Latoya Licks. Signing off.

So as per my last post, I vowed to give up pussy. I kept tweeting cryptic and non-specific reasons for why I was going to be doing that but the truth is, I wasn’t really sure myself. I know im on the brink of something important though, I feel that itch again that I felt almost a year ago when I first started this… “Latoya” twitter account.

My life is very structured and getting close to people enough to capture their essence takes more energy than i have ever had to spare. Twitter opened the floodgates and has given me the chance to have experiences I would never have known otherwise. I’ve never been as free and expressive in my life as I have been on my twitter. It’s like I had been in a coma then I finally woke up one day and there was Latoya Licks.

Through this page I’ve met a lot of women. Some were more significant than others but they were all special. I tweet a good game but inside I’m still the curious, somewhat straight girl I once was, who didn’t even know how to find her own clit. This writing/living experience has been daunting.

If you follow me on twitter you may have seen the various tantrums, complaining about the highs and lows of this roller coaster ride. The truth is, I’m fucking exhausted. The energy that it takes for me to know somebody, truly know and understand their needs, wants and desires, it’s too deep, it’s too much. Perhaps being who I am now, I am not meant to know the secrets locked inside of these fascinating creatures.

I’m lonely without the bonds I have made, the intimacy shared between other passionate individuals on their own quest of sorts. I miss even the friendship but I know that it’s for the best right now. I have to stop frustrating myself and diliting my mind by minimizing people/myself to their sexual desires. It doesn’t even feel good anymore.

I’m taking a step back from twitter for a moment to do this. I’ll miss those I’ve come to rely on but I need to remember how to rely on me.

I’m a writer. I don’t say it enough but I am. When I’m hurt and lost, that’s where I used to disappear
to. I think I’ll start there…

I’ll see you when I see you twitter.

Latoya Licks

Latoya’s Journal – November 26, 2012

Remember my co-worker? She used to have me sitting at my desk, crossing and un-crossing my legs while I watched her sexy, beautiful body move around my office. I blogged about her in office chronicles 1: don’t eat where you work. It’s worth scrolling back to read it. Trust me.

She calls me every now and then, to keep in touch. She’s an amazing woman. I smile whenever she calls and laughs that easy sigh as we catch up and reminisce about ‘old times.”
Her voice is low and sexy as we talk. I feel like I’m her little secret as I know her husband and son are probably nearby. I knew she would have to go soon, I understood.

I speak quickly, not wanting to let the inevitable happen. Conversation flows easy as I finally hear it, that familiar tone in her voice that reminds me of a moment that once belonged to just us two. There’s a sound in her voice that pulled me back to where I’m on my knees in my office, gripping both sides of my desk chair, as i give her what she needs.

Wives and mother’s are always so neglected. She held both titles. Having confessed to me once that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever had an orgasm, I knew what to do. Slow circles, gentle kisses at first, it was like a dance. I lured her pussy in with slow long licks and let her tell me when she wanted more. I gave her more. On my knees I treated her body like royalty as I moved with her… back to back orgasms until I had eaten her dry. The dance was my pleasure, i remember cuming without even being touched.

She called me back to the conversation, knowing exactly where she’d lost me. I could hear the same nostalgia from her as a pause lulled between us. I didn’t suggest anything and neither did she. We promised to speak soon and set an open ended invite that we both knew would never happen.

I hung up and let my fingers move south, my pussy feeling awaken and teased. It wasn’t over for us, I knew that. But for now, I’m just grateful for the memory.

Office Chronicles 3: Pussy for Lunch

I promise myself this week ill start counseling. I am going to speak to someone about my need to cum. What drives this need? Why can’t I stop? It’s the lunch hour now ..that’s when it happens to me. This is when it happens. My pussy is twitching and my palms are sweaty. I start getting a headache.

My colleagues wanted to do lunch together but I can’t. I sneak away into the parking lot and sit in my car instead, I push the seat all the way back and am grateful for my tinted windows. If any one saw me, what would I do?

Right now I don’t care.

I spread my legs, my heels are too high, they keep bumping against the steering wheel. I reach under my skirt and instantly start to relax. The release is coming.

I gently touch my bare pussy through my panties and sigh in relief. It feels so good.

I put my head back and rub my clit in slow circles. I don’t have much time but I want a certain kind of cum. I need to do it right.

The warm sun against my bare legs encourages me to keep going. My keys are in the ignition in accessory mode, and I can barely hear the radio playing Alicia Keys through the speakers. My panties are soaking wet.

My moans get louder as I look around nervously. Nobody can see me, so I let myself go. My hair is tied up in a messy bun, and it keeps bumping against the headrest as the intensity builds. I try to control it but I know better, my pussy takes hold of me. Not the other way around.

I squirm in my leather seats as I get closer and closer before finally i get it. It starts slow and calm before it hits me like a wave. I’m Cuming hard.

I try to move with it, I try to absorb the shock but its too good. I grip the steering wheel as it rises and falls again. A long slow cum.

I adjust myself before letting myself collapse and relax. Lysol wipes and make up adjustments are needed but I give myself a minute to catch my breath first. I take several deep breaths over that minute, like a junkie who just got a fix.

The moment has passed and I do what I have to before exiting my vehicle smoothly. My heels click quickly to catch up to coworkers on the way back from Starbucks. I smile and joke with them, like nothing out of the ordinary. I wonder if they can see it in my smile. Can they see whats behind it? I wonder if anyone knows…

An Email to an old flame. Enjoy xoxoxo

Hello, ____

I want to send you a new piece. I think i’ll call it Midnight Snack. I feel like I’m somehow touching you with my words when i email you. Iwant to touch you, so here you go…

I don’t know how to do this but I go with my first instincts. I unwrap your purple panties like a gift. Smooth full lips smile at me, so pretty and as I assumed, extra thick.

I go in strong tongue kissing, it doesn’t matter to me which lips. Slow, long tastes and tongue curls, so good I pause and bite my lip. You lie there wordlessly begging, I can feel your body drip. Like a vampire now, Ive had a little taste, the desire grows and takes hold of my wits. All I can do is reach up and squeeze, one of the most perfect tits. Not to be neglected, I give each one a quick kiss.

Back to the task, it becomes a game. I wanna see if I can make you cum and you wanna see if I can be outdone. Change tempo, change angle, switch position. Clocks turning. Alphabets spelling, pressure on your certain points.

Grown pleasure, like they told me sex would be one day. Orgasms tingle and threaten to explode on the brink. Electric currents gain momentum and your body loses control. Endorphins release and slightly tickle, legs shake and relax. The word climactic is not enough. Its not enough.

Don’t move. Stop. No really, actually needing me to stop. Both hands in my afro, dont hesitate, I wont mind if you pull it.

Surprise pressure and my finger in your ass as I help you cool down, lightly I blow on your clit.

I put in work to get you here so I want you to remember it. Moans and whimpers and groans, Don’t even try to talk. Your body convulses dances like an epileptic, experiencing aftershocks.

I lick your navel slow, while I feel the warmth of your after glow. Your pussy still contracts in my hand as your mind, body and earth regain contact. I hold your legs and wait for you to calm down, wait for you to come down. Soft kisses on and around all of your spots.

Traces of my lipstick on each thigh before I lick the middle front to back. You asked me to I could sense it, I can hear when your body talks. We can go at least a couple more rounds. I wanna wear you out. I reach for something, you don’t try to stop. Especially since I already warned you about what I could do with this toy cock.

Your tired with no energy left. That’s when I take you girl, I had told you what I planned to do. For at least the next 20 minutes (at least for me) I reinvent it, the sensation of being inside of you.

Its amazing how I can feel your energy with it that’s what I call a mind fuck. Ive dreamed of your perfect lips on my titties is it rude to ask you to suck?

I can come two or three times before its too tender, but lets see what you do. There’s no script, let’s let it happen, whatever you want from me is yours. Nobody is here but me and you.

I want to be with you ____ so bad it throbs so ill just write, keep you trapped in my fantasy rendezvous.

Student Service: The Office Chronicles 2

Office chronicles 2

I sat reclined in my chair, looking out the window at the dark city. My mood matched the cold, wet weather. I was bored.

Three quick raps on my door made me spin around in my chair and hit the keyboard until the screen came back to life.

“Come,” I called out as I typed in my password.

The student popped her head in and smiled. I relaxed and waved her into my office. She flopped down in the seat across from me and launched into this excited babble about an experience she’d had in the office today. With the nature of our work, that wasn’t uncommon.

It was a slow Friday in the office, I smiled kindly and took my time as I listened to her story and jumped in to give feedback and support where it applied. At the end of it she smiled with that youthful adoration that she had in her eyes whenever we spoke. A graduate student who had more theory than knowledge about life, I had to remind myself that she was almost my age.

With two weeks left in her placement, she and I had worked closely for the past few weeks. We were often the last ones in the office, always getting caught up in an interesting discussion about social issues. I liked her passion. It reminded me of my own college days.

Our friendly convo came to an impasse when she asked if she could say something to me. A weird premise to a question I thought, but I had no reason to hesitate in inviting her to ask.

Her body language changed a bit as she shifted in her seat. I saw her eyes rest on the pictures of my family and friends sitting on my desk. She smiled at my blessings. Her eyes had something in them that made me frown. I could see a question dancing in that brain of hers. I told her to spill it.

She said she knew it was inappropriate, but she wanted me to know that she had enjoyed working under me these past few months. She loved our chats and my knowledge of the work we do. Also, she found herself attracted to me and really just felt like telling me before she left.

I couldn’t believe my ears. I tried so hard to keep my sex life private, especially since the last time. My pussy jumped a little as an image of the last time flashed through my mind. I shook my head, willing the thought out of my mind before it affected my judgement.

It had been no easy task to reflect on my actions and how they had begun to affect my job. I had promised myself there would be no more work place indiscretions. It had been months since I had even reached under my own skirt behind my closed office door. I had been behaving. And now this?

My frown must have spoken more than I was trying to say because she stood up and apologized. She specified that her apology wasn’t for how she felt but if it made me uncomfortable. She flicked her hair out of her eyes and burned into me as she stepped around my desk and put a folder down on the cabinet next to me.

I pushed back a little in my chair and she paused at my discomfort and smiled. There was something about her body language that had changed. She didn’t seem like the same passive, young woman. It was like her telling me about the attraction somehow shifted the dynamic between us. I felt like I was the young one.

I cleared my throat and adjusted my pencil skirt and glanced down at my heels, willing these new ideas from my mind. But it was too late. I was a little intrigued. She seemed to know it.

I pushed the mouse to the side and let the calendar come up on my computer. We were alone. The entire office had gone to a retirement party for lunch, they wouldn’t be back for hours.

My neck got hot as I looked back up at her standing next to my desk.

“I know about you and ___, you know.”

I sighed and shook my head at what I already knew. The coworker that I had that office fling with had been rumoured to have gotten separated from her husband. She and the student had been friends before she applied for a transfer. It wasn’t too much of a surprise that she knew.

I put up my hands in annoyance and said, “listen, that is not..,”

She began unbuttoning her shirt. Right there in my office.

Words wouldn’t form and my mouth felt dry. I started fixing things that didn’t need to be fixed on my desk. Shuffling papers that didn’t need shuffling, I finally allowed myself to look.

Her shirt was open; her small breasts were tucked inside a sheer bra. Her nipples showed through the material. I heard a moan forming in my throat but I swallowed it quickly. She paused at the clasp in the front as if waiting for the go ahead. She smiled, knowing I wasn’t going to stop her. Apparently this was an area where the student was not as timid as I had thought.

I stood up and didn’t move as she stepped closer. She released her bra and her perky breasts barely moved without the support. They were the colour of brown sugar, with small chocolate nipples. I bit my lip but didn’t move. We were at a stalemate.

I could feel a smile pulling at the side of my mouth. How do I get myself into this type of situations? I felt like I was being punked. Just as I was about to try one more attempt at interrupting the course of events from unfolding, she stepped forward and nudged my knees apart with hers. I sat back down in my chair in surprised.

She was aggressive. I liked aggressive women.

I didn’t move and waited to see what she would do next.

She walked back to my office door and drew the blind shut on the window and pushed in and spun the door knob, locking it.

I watched her with a new fascination, this sexually liberated Indian woman, with her nose piercing and perky breasts. The impressionable student suddenly seemed very grown. It turned me all the way on.

She pushed my chair back and I tightened my grip on the handrest. I didn’t resist as she pushed my legs apart again. I even participated as she removed my heels and tugged my stockings down.

I knew I should stop her, I should say something. But instead I closed my eyes as I felt the smoothness of her lips against my inner thigh, moving deeper. I put my head back and felt the damp trail of kisses moving up my thigh. I writhed a little in my chair but I felt her arms wrap around my thighs, letting me know there was nowhere to go.

She left my thong on and kissed my lips through the material. I breathed through the pleasure, not wanting to give into it. Not wanting to let her know how open I, the teacher, had become. Her shampoo smelled herbal and sweet, mixed with my own aroma. The small cubicle office suddenly felt too warm and smelled like sex.

I could feel that she definitely knew what she was doing as she breathed warm air onto my wetness through the panty. She teased me like that until my breathing was audible. She licked me through my thong until I heard myself mumbling and then begging for more. She pretended she didn’t hear me.

‘Hmm?” she questioned in between slow, agonizing licks.

I swore under my breath and released my grip on the hand rest. I touched her hair and then pushed her into me. She pulled back enough to move soaking panties to the side. She gave me what I was begging for.

The next 45 minutes went by in a blur. I fought the orgasms but I lost over and over and over again. She had complete control, even as I pulled her hair and tried to push and pull her where I wanted her to go. She seemed to instinctively know better. I came hard and fast. One orgasm fell into the wave of the other. Trying to keep quiet was a challenge.

When she finally stopped, I sat there watching her re-dress while trying to catch my breath. I shivered as I reached down for my strewn about thong and stockings. My clit was too sensitive for me to even cross my legs.

Wordlessly we picked files up off of the ground and restored my office back as it had been. I tried to think of something to say as we heard the door chime ring and easy laughter fill the reception area of the office.

I sprayed air freshener and handed her a gum. She took it wordlessly. I reached forward and wiped her smeared lipstick a little. It didn’t help. I passed her a small mirror on my desk and we both laughed a little, uncomfortably. I caught a glimpse of my own glowing complexion in my computer monitor and smiled. I really needed this.

I leaned forward to where she was adjusting her blouse still and lifted her lips to mine. I gave her an appreciative kiss, my lips pressed against hers firmly. I wanted her to feel my gratitude. She took the kiss and smiled back just as there was a knock on my door.

Coworkers entered and joined our convo without missing a beat. Small talk and chatter ensued as I gathered my things and shut down my computer.

I gave a general goodbye and headed out that night, feeling inspired once again.

We gave each other space in the days to come, at her goodbye lunch I signed her card with a discrete thank you msg, for ‘everything’. I told her, ‘don’t be a stranger.’
As she left that night, she dropped an envelope in my staff mailbox, which I dismissed as work related.

I picked it up the next day and found a picture of a shaved pussy, spread eagled sitting in an office chair. I instantly got aroused. On the picture she had written ‘my turn,’ and signed the note with a different name, it was a twitter name with an @ symbol. That surprised me. I checked it out on my phone and noticed Latoya had a new follower. I laughed for a few minutes by myself in my office. What a coincidence, she had a dirty twitter account too. Go figure.

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xXx

She reached through my iPhone like she could really feel my pussy. Her voice was low and so erotic as she whispered nasty beautiful things in my ear. “keep coming” she whispered as I closed my eyes tight and imagined my hand was hers. The bed creaking and the sheets pulled off the corners as I struggled to get it. Shes so dirty, all the things she wants to do to me. My body reacts with tingling wetness as she conjures up my cum through my phone. She knows her way around my psyche. She knows what i want to hear. I wipe the moisture from my screen as she lit up my screen and my pussy.

Orgasm after orgasm after orgasm. Moaning and writhing I struggled to keep the charging phone close to my ear as I played with my ridiculously sensitive clit. It had tried to tap out three climaxes ago. But she wouldn’t let me stop. I couldn’t stop. The cum just oozed out of my body as she released my demons and performed this exorcism on my pussy.

12 hours later and the aftershocks can still make me twitch. My phone lights up and I grab it before the notification even flips. My pussy already wet, she’s got an app for that.

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