STORY TITLE Making The Grade
AUTHOR Christie
CODES Mf, viagra, blackmail, impregnation
DATE ADDED 24th January, 2004
AUTHOR EMAIL [email protected]

DISCLAIMER:- The following text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times.

The second quarter of the fall semester was turning out to be a bitch. The Dean
had laid on another section of European History on me after one of the other
profs got herself bent out of shape in an auto accident and I had to take over
mid-stream. The prof was one of those radical feminist types who always thought
that every event in history was just another excuse for an "assault on womyns'

Naturally, it was my luck to not be at the Department meeting when it was
decided who would take over the classes filled with militant neo-lesbians.

I guess a little of my own history is in order. My name is Philistine Smith, or
'Phil', and I am a tenured Professor of Western Civilization at the University
of California at Berkeley. That probably explains a lot to you about the
militant neo-lesbian component on my campus. I've got another fifteen years to
go until I qualify for full retirement, but when you're fifty-one fifteen years
doesn't seem all that long a time.

I actually went to this school thirty years ago and was one of the fellows who
actually went to class and did okay for himself instead of smoking pot, dropping
acid, and protesting "The War" and "The Man". I graduated with my Phi Beta Kappa
Key and found a lot of doors in the world flung wide open before me. It wasn't
hard for me to pick up a teaching job at Mills College where I spent my days
teaching and my nights writing my doctoral thesis on why the Edict of Nantes was
actually a good thing for the Hugenots in the end.

My doctoral thesis attracted the attention of the old guard of the faculty at
Berkeley as it was one of the few mundane subjects they'd seen in quite some
time. They were surprised that I could string together six hundred pages without
using the name "Viet Nam" even once. I was offered a tenured position in the
Social Sciences Department and that was about it for me.

I rapidly became known for not having a single controversial idea and the more
conservative students, those who managed to finagle their way onto campus, all
tended to gravitate to my classes. All the better to my liking as I didn't have
to deal with walk-outs, sit-ins, drop-outs, and fuck-ups. In thirty years of
tenure I'd never been mentioned on the front page of any newspaper nor as the
lead story on the evening news. This is a rare accomplishment at Berkeley.

Well, yes. And I also met my darling wife in 1976. We were at a bar along
Telegraph where I was grading papers and she was a grad student celebrating the
election of Jimmy Carter. As the first Democrat since Kennedy (true Dems don't
count Johnson, I've found) there was a lot of hope that Carter would be able to
clean up Washington and heal the wounds of Viet Nam and Watergate and Anna was
radiant with hope that evening. And no small amount of rum, too, I might add.
The rum is how we met, or what caused us to meet, that is.

Anna jumped up on a table as Gerald Ford came on TV to concede the election to
Carter and I looked up to see her lose her balance. I caught her head just
before she would've hit the fireplace at the old bar and, in the process, doused
a number of papers with beer. She laughed her drunken head off and asked me my
name before going back to the party. I shook my head at the foolish drunk and
gathered up the sodden paperwork to take home and toss in the dryer.

The next day a much more sober Anna came to my office and apologized for her
lack of decorum the night before. She'd had to go back to the bar to get my name
as she'd forgotten it as quickly as I'd said it to her. Upon visiting the bar
she examined the spot where we'd met, took a good look at the fireplace, and
realized how close she'd come to dying from a head injury. And I was her hero.

Imagine that. Me. A hero. To Anna, I was better than Superman. I was the first
man she'd met who didn't try to get in her pants right away and I didn't make a
big deal about saving her life, which seemed to enamor her of me even more.

She took me home to meet her family over Thanksgiving and then I came back for
Christmas and New Years. The clock rang in 1977 and I proposed to Anna on bended
knee with four years' savings displayed in a little blue box from Tiffany & Co.

It seemed appropriate that we were married on January 20th, Jimmy Carter's
Inauguration Day.

The years went by and Anna gave me three beautiful children. All three grew up
to be the kind of kids any man would be damned proud to have. Our eldest, Lisa,
works for the Justice Department as a young FBI agent. Millie, the middle child,
is pre-med at Johns Hopkins. And Darryl, our youngest. What can I say? The son
of a radical and a nebbish and he got on the bus for UC San Diego and got off at
Camp Pendleton. Right now he's God-knows-where hunting for Saddam and Osama for
his Uncle Sam as a United States Marine. He's quite the sight in his uniform,
especially when he comes to visit the old man here at Berkeley.

He came to see me last month before he shipped out and he walked proudly into
the nest of neo-lesbian heckles and screams that is now one of my classes. It
was quite inspiring to me when he kept his calm and walked to the front of the
class and saluted me before hugging me. The class was dead silent when they
heard him say, "I love you, dad."

The mean faces with short-clipped hair were all mute, probably in fear that I'd
retaliate against them come grading time.

And isn't that the joy of tenure? Make no doubt, some of those sick little Rosie
O'Donnell wanna-bes will be losing their financial aid when their semester
grades come out. I hope their little attitudes are as welcome at Podunk
Community College as they are at Berkeley.

Anyhow, I saw my son off after first dismissing the class and I walked him
across campus to get him a cab to the train station at Emeryville. I found
myself looking at him now and again as we walked and I wondered how it was that
I had raised a lean, mean, killing machine. I still remember him crying when his
goldfish died.

I still remember him crying at his mother's funeral last year.

His entire platoon, eighty-three strong, came to the funeral and six of them
carried Anna from the chapel to her final resting place. Darryl's sergeant
("Master Gunnery Sergeant Ortiz!", as he'd surely remind me) later told me that
he'd felt an obligation to show the respect of The Corps to the mother of, as he
said, "One damn fine Marine, sir!" Turns out that this is high praise from a
USMC Sergeant.

My Anna was the mother of a damn fine boy and I'll never forget it.

Which brings me to Thrusday night three weeks ago. Melissa Courtney, a fetching
little lass if there ever was one, comes into my office blathering about her
financial aid and scholarships and on and on. She's actually one of the better
students, and normal, to boot, in the neo-lezbo class.

Quite by mistake, I'd flunked her thinking she was one of the lezbo mob that had
screamed and spat at my Darryl. It would just be a matter of paperwork for me to
correct her grade and I'd have simply done that were it not for her sudden
clarity of speech.

"Prof. Smith, sir, I'll do ANYTHING, I mean it sir, ANYTHING, to get my grade

She kept talking and I guess I just tuned out the noise and thought about her
long, brown hair and her shapely little figure. After all, it had been five
years since Anna and I had, well, you know with her illness there hadn't been
any sex at the Smith house in some time.

I held my hand up to Miss Courtney and she quieted down.

"Now, Miss Courtney," I swallowed as I crossed an ethical line, "you had a...a
proposition in mind, did you? And what, pray tell, would that be young lady?"

The English language with all of its nuances and intonations has the remarkable
ability to say something while using words completely unrelated to the message
being conveyed. Miss Courtney grasped my meaning accurately.

Her eyes widened and she whispered, "You mean you want me to give you a

I stood up and went to the door of my office. I looked up and down the hall and
the place was a tomb. A glance at the clock and I realized it was after eight in
the evening! No wonder we were alone. I closed the door and locked it before
turning back to Miss Courtney.

"Yes, Melissa, a blowjob shall be a nice start to redeeming your grade. But
first," (in for a penny, in for a pound I say) "why don't we see those boobs of
yours? Hmm?"

Shocked, she stood there as I sat back down in my chair and pushed back from my

"Now would be a good time to take off your blouse, dear."

I could see her mentally balancing the value of her grade against her integrity
and I guess virtue just isn't what it used to be.

Odd, I was simultaneously pleased and disappointed when she unbuttoned the
blouse to reveal a satiny pink bra over, hmmm, they must've been 34, maybe 35
C's. My cock began to whir with some familiar feelings as the girl undressed and
I must say it was nice to feel like a man again.

"Melissa, I can call you 'Melissa', right?"

She nodded her assent.

"Yes, and you can call me 'Phil', if you'd like. Yes, Melissa, let's have you
take off that bra, shall we?"

She was truly quite lovely once she was bare from the waist up. Pert breasts
with a womanly hint of fullness to them decorated by the kind of nipples a child
would someday find easy to suckle upon.

Melissa was acutely aware of me staring at her wares and her apprehension faded
a little to display her more aggressive side.

"Can we get this over with? I can't stand here like this all night."

I perked up an eyebrow at her insolence and then sighed as I unzipped my
trousers, pulled aside my boxers, and freed my cock for my new friend. She came
around the desk without being bidden and I was pleased when her eyes went wide
at the side of my equipment. Anna had always told me I was blessed as a man but
I just took her words as the act of a loving wife. Melissa's reaction reminded
me of the passion Anna and I had once shared and I felt myself swell with
anticipation. The pert little brunette knelt between my legs and looked at my
tool before looking up at me, as if maybe I'd change my mind.

"Go on, dear, it's getting late."

And, God Bless America!, did Melissa go on. It was my first blowjob, to be
honest, and Melissa did such wondrous things with her toungue! I let my hands
drift into the cloud of her lovely hair as her head bobbed up and down on my
cock and I asked myself why I hadn't insisted on this kind of thing years

The talented young thing knew just how to do this and I realized that she'd
acquired no small amount of experience in this sort of activity. I felt less
guilty for what I was making her do as the image of her unsoiled innocence faded
from my mind.

Quite literally, I saw stars as my loins erupted into her mouth. The little
nymph didn't stop as I released and she drew forth another gout of my juice.

I was catching my breath as she suddenly stopped, stood up, and turned to the
garbage can. Just as quickly, she knelt down and noisily upchucked the contents
of her stomach into the can. Upon consideration, I realized this might be why
I've heard men prefer that a woman 'swallow'. The alternative is rather

"There, are you happy?" Clearly, the insulted and aggrieved girl was fighting
back tears.

My mind quickly calculated her gathering courage and I decided that courage, a
virtue in general, wasn't a good thing in a young lady who'd recently fellated
her professor under coercion. I decided to quickly take control of things.


She was clearly stunned.

"Melissa, you'll do well to speak to me respectfully or not at all."

I let her dwell on this for a moment.

"We'd be done here tonight were it not for your attitude. As of this moment you
have earned yourself a 'D'."

The implication was clear. While she wouldn't fail with a 'D', she'd not be
returning for the Spring semester.

I took her reddened cheek in my hand as I talked to her.

"My house is in Orinda. You'll be my guest tomorrow night for some
more...tutoring, shall we say?"

She drew a breath to protest and I placed a finger on her pouty, full lips.

"No, dear, not one more word or the deal's off. Got it?"

She looked down at her shoes and nodded with proper submission.

"Good. Then I'll pick you up at the BART station at, say, six tomorrow evening.
We'll have a nice dinner and I'll introduce you to a remarkable claret before we
have a lovely sorbet and a port older than yourself for dessert."

I loudly zipped my trousers for effect.

"Now get dressed and get out of my office, I have work to do."

It was all I could do to studiously ignore the pretty girl as she dressed and
then exited my office, closing the door quite properly behind herself.

The door had no sooner clicked shut than I'd broke out in a sweat over what I'd
done. It takes thirty years to build a reputation and five minutes to destroy
it. And I'd put in the five minutes now, hadn't I?

The trip home was uneventful and the traffic through the Callahan was blessedly
light. Less than forty minutes after I'd locked my office door I was in my chair
at home with a generous tumbler of Scotch soothing my nerves.

What the hell was I thinking? What was I really going to have the poor girl do
tomorrow night? Me, a flabby old man with a comb-over and a taut young thing.
Mutt and Jeff, we'd be. Surely, Melissa had a young man on the Bears who'd kick
my ass right into the emergency room were he to find out. I had three children
who'd never forgive me. I'd lose my job. The girl could sue me.

A lot of years had passed since I'd had a half a fifth of Scotch and I certainly
felt it the next morning. I had to take a migraine pill before getting in the
car and then I still suffered as the traffic on the 24 crawled along. It was
noon before I felt normal again and then, after lunch, it was time for class.
Melissa was absent from her seat and my paranoid mind was just waiting for the
Dean and Campus Police to walk in the door and arrest me in the middle of
creating the Hanseatic League.

The rest of the day was no better. When four thirty came along I was relieved to
get to my car without handcuffs on and I flipped on the radio for some music as
I made my way to the Oakland hills. It was quarter past five when I pulled off
at Orinda and drove past the BART station. Then I drove past it again. I guess
it was on my fifth circumnavigation of the station when I pulled in and parked
near to the front. It was ten 'till the hour according to the deejay.

My passenger door swung open and a blur of blue and gold jacket swung in. The
fist of a boyfriend was on my quickened heart and then I saw the blur of brown
hair bundled up neatly upon a feminine figure.

"You're early. Thanks for not making me wait." She sounded appreciative, really.

It was uncomfortable, at first, but we drove along and talked about school
before arriving at the house. The garage door closed behind the car and I
escorted my guest into the house.

Melissa asked for, and received, a large vodka rocks before dinner, I guess to
try to relax. She toured around the house and complimented the view even though
the view is really of other houses in the valley. She even remarked on the
furniture and surprised me with her eye for the Federal pieces in my library.
She readily knew them to be originals and not reproductions. It surprised me
that she had this kind of depth.

Dinner went off quite well. The salmon almondine was done perfectly and the
claret was a nice accent to the red fish. The raspberry sorbet complimented the
forty-five year old port and I noticed my guest having no small amount of the
fortified spirit for herself.

We finally retired to the living room where I set a nice Brahms medley on the CD
player and our conversation continued. The five CD's had run their course and my
guest and I noticed the evening had moved into the later hours. Melissa's light
mood suddenly evaporated and she poured the remaining half of the fine port into
her empty water glass and then emptied the glass in single draught.

"There," she slurred, "now I'm ready. The dinner was great and all, but how
'bout we get that blowjob done so I can go?"

Without prompting, she stood and pulled off her polo top and doffed her bra.
Kneeling down at my feet she pulled at my belt and undid my trousers, pulling my
rising cock out of my boxers. She looked at me, then down at my crotch and then
held her hands to her face. Springing up she ran to my bedroom and slammed the
door. That she was crying was a certainty and I composed myself before following

"I'm not a slut." she sniffled as I entered the room.

"I never said you were, Melissa. I just wanted to accomplish some business and
enjoy your company for the evening." She sniffled again, almost a snort if you
will. I patted her on the back.

"You can't blame me for wanting you, can you?"

She nodded politely and I could see my little bit of flattery was well timed and
well taken.

"Where's your bathroom?" she inquired.

I gestured at the correct door and she got up from the bed where we were seated
and strode quite beautifully to the door. The volume of alcohol she'd imbibed
had caught up with her bladder and the tile walls of the bathroom served to
amplify the resultant sounds. She peed like a racehorse, frankly. It was a while
before I heard the sound of a flush and then a good fifteen minutes passed as I
waited for her to emerge.

When she didn't appear I finally got up and knocked on the door. With no
response I opened the door and found my guest in a rather distressed position.
Her pants and panties were around her ankles and her face rested on the counter
next to the toilet where she was still seated. The snoring was subtle and
feminine. I chuckled a bit as I knelt down and looked at her.


"Melissa, dear, are you awake?"

There was no response. Well, I decided not to leave her like this all night and
I had to figure out how to get her to the bed. Carrying her was out of the
question since my back just isn't what it used to be. I'd have to get her awake
enough to stumble to the bed. I shook her a bit and got a precious little
response. Calculating that I'd be able to get her to her feet, and that I'd need
her on her feet to get her pants back on, I knelt down and removed her sneakers,
socks, and then the pants and panties.

Sure, I could've done this another way, but this way I got to see her naked.
This way was the best, don't you agree?

Freed from her constraints I got her arm around my neck and lifted her up.

"Wha-wha-where am I going?"

I chuckled again. "I'm putting you to bed. You're drunk."


She worked with me enough that we made it to the bed where I let her fall to one
side. I walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers back
then, reaching across to Melissa, I prompted her to get in and then I pulled the
blankets up over her angelic form.

Memories of mornings in the distant past when a girlfriend stole out early one
morning came back to me. I gathered Melissa's clothing and her purse and placed
them in the trunk of my car. Now it was well after midnight and past my own
bedtime. A proper part of me thought about the guestroom and then I gave
consideration to the naked brunette in my bed and figured a little companionship
in bed might be nice for the first time in too many years.

My clothes were folded in their place and I went to the bathroom to get ready
for bed. I flossed and brushed and rinsed. Spitting out the mouthwash I looked
at the paunchy, two hundred sixty pound fellow in the mirror and wondered what
Melissa would think when she awoke to this sight in the morning? I decided to
find out.

I set my customary glass of water by my bedside and then set a little blue pill
next to it. The pill had been a gag gift for my birthday and I'd kept it with
its three comrades, never thinking I might have a use for it. Then I eased
myself into the bed where my guest was busy snoring off her drunk. It was really
quite th luxury when I sidled up to her naked form and draped my arm around her
breasts. She fidgeted a little bit and then cuddled herself up to me before
slipping into a deep sleep.

Satisfied with the company of a warm woman in my bed, I readily slipped off to a
comfortable sleep as well.

I didn't stir again until the clock buzzed at six on Saturday morning. I reached
over and clicked it off wondering why I'd set it so early on my day off? A
delicate hand pawed at my back and I remembered the night before. I turned
gently and in the early morning glow I saw my guest happily sleeping next to me.
Her hand drifted to my fat belly and playfully tugged at my belly hairs. I
reached for my water and was about to take a swig when I remembered to find the
little pill. It was right where I'd left it and it was soon the first thing I'd
have for breakfast.

I slipped back into the warm covers and lay on my back, unsure of what to do
next. Melissa, in her sleepy innocence, lazily placed her hand on my hip, her
fingers perilously close to my crotch. Ever so gently, I reached over and
touched her breast, my fingers tracing a feathery touch along the young skin.
The little bud of a nipple swelled up in response to my attentions and it
swelled more as I brushed my index finger over it.

The promise of the blowjob the night before was nothing in the world compared to
luxuriating with this beautiful nymph first thing in the morning. I breathed a
silent, and blasphemous, prayer of thanks to God for giving me this moment.

With an empty stomach it wasn't long before the effects of my little blue pill
were being realized. I felt a vigor I hadn't felt in over twenty years coursing
through my body. Maybe a half-hour passed between my taking the pill and its
taking effect and I amazed at the throbbing monster tenting up the blankets. It
was even more amazing when a certain delicate hand wrapped around it and gave me
the most gentle attentions I could ever have imagined!

In the growing light I looked at Melissa's face and saw her lips pursing in a
kind of tempo. The tempo matched that of her hand on my cock. Then it wisely
occured to me to wonder what her other hand was up to. Or down to.

Her moans grew in intensity while her hand busied itself in her crotch. Shortly,
the hand that had been giving me quite the thrill was removed to hold her own
chest as she brought herself to her own rapture.

An old familiar musky smell came to me and I was quite taken with the heady
aroma of a sexually pleased woman in my bed.

I felt like a teenager as I realized I had no idea what to do next.

Once again, I was blessed by Fate.

Melissa stirred and whispered to the morning.

"Mmmm, I want you."

In her sleepy, orgasmic state she was asking for her lover. I knew damn right
well she wasn't thinking of me when she made that invitation, but I'd been
wanting more than a blowjob and this was probably going to be my only chance.

As gently as I could, I rolled myself over and held her head in my hand.
Removing her pillow, I laid her pretty head down on the sheet. Her hand went up
behind my neck and gathered me to her breast as I kissed the ruby set against
her porcelain skin.

"Mmmm" she murmered as I suckled the perfect nub in between my teeth.

I dared one leg to insinuate itself between her fawn-like limbs and she didn't
challenge me at all. I kissed her neck as I got myself fully between her legs
and felt my heart wildly thumping in my chest. I mused that, yes, this would be
an okay time to have a heart attack and die!

The delicate hands went up to my sides as I held my weight on my elbows and
kissed her lovely, long neck. I was conscious of the heat of her body on my cock
and I fought the urge to simply assault the girl. I imagined myself teasing her
and making her beg me to take her. I pictured myself waiting an hour before
doing anything.

Turns out I have no such willpower at all.

My painfully hard cock touched a woman for the first time in years and a rusty
old instinct took over and made me thrust. Melissa responded by spreading her
legs for me and I pushed again. Her dewey lips caught the head of my cock and I
gasped with joy as I felt the head poke into the precious girl.

My thrusts were not as measured as they might once have been and my need was
quite overwhelming. I kissed Melissa full on the lips and she kissed me right
back as thrust myself into her body and my passion began to build.

With one final and deep thrust we were fully involved and I felt my heavy balls
fall against her pretty, upturned ass. Melissa's back arched as I pushed hard
and deep into her and her pretty eyes opened to look at me.

The dreamy, sleepy look gave way to wide-eyed horror as my young guest realized
it was me. Our kiss abruptly ended. I froze in place, poised over the young

"Prof. Smith! Omigod, what's going on? Where am I?"

Her hands felt up and down my sides and then she tried to reach between us. I
shifted a bit and my cock moved inside of her.

"You're FUCKING ME? You filthy, ugly fat BASTARD! You're gonna go to jail you
fucking evil piece of shit!"

Her tirade continued and I was really quite insulted. Her little hands pushed
feebly at my shoulders and there was really no way she was going to be able to
push me off of her. She screamed with frustration.

"Get the FUCK out of me before you make me pregnant! I'm unprotected you goddam
dumb, ugly fuck!"

Melissa's little legs were running in place they were so busy trying to get me

A little sidebar here is needed. In years passed my wife and I would have been
making love and if she'd become upset my cock would go limp as if the air had
been let from a balloon. But Viagra doesn't work that way. As humbled and
concerned and insulted as I was, my cock stayed nice and firm in Melissa's
pussy. Her struggles made for some back and forth motion and that wasn't bad
either. I'm not sure if it was the Viagra or just what it was, but the insults
had hit a chord with me and my reaction surprised even myself.

"Melissa SHUT UP!!!" I bellowed.

Her pouty mouth went open in utter shock. She drew a breath to say something. I
held her body tight and felt her pussy pull off of me.


My face was maybe two inches from her when I said this.

I reached up to her face with one hand and held her lovely cheeks, scrunching up
her face in a kind of caricature.

"You, yes YOU, asked me to make love to you and now I am making love to you..."

She struggled and moaned and I squeezed harder.

"...and you're going to be a good girl and let me finish what YOU asked me to

A tear ran from her eye and down her cheek.


"YOU asked me to."

The little sprite went from vulnerable little girl to a full-on harpie in a

"You're not sticking that FUCKING THING back in me if I HAVE TO FUCKING KILL

Funny thing, before she'd shifted into 'bitch' I was about to stop and just let
it go. She hawked up a goodly amount of lung cheese and spat it straight in my
face in the midst of the hurricane of insults and screams and acrimony. I
reached to my bedside table and drew a tissue that I used to wipe my face.
Impassioned, I let it fall to the floor and then I refocused on the nasty little
thing in my bed. I made up my mind.

She settled down a little as she felt me rise off of her and step from the bed.
She fell silent as I padded out of the room to my library. I remember thinking
to myself that my cock looked ridiculous as it stuck straight out as it did.

In the library I reached up to the frame that held one of my eldest daughter's
mementos of her Academy days and then I turned and padded straight back to the

Melissa was still on the bed when I came back.

"Where are my clothes?"

She said some other things I also ignored as I got up on the bed and pushed her
down on her back. I straddled her chest and roughly grabbed her right hand. The
smartass bitch act ended quite abruptly when the handcuff locked into place. I
held her hand behind the stout bedframe and seized and locked up her left hand
as she tried to slap me. I got up from the bed now and walked to the foot of the

The noise coming out of her mouth stopped as I grabbed her ankles and pulled her

She screamed as her shoulders and wrists were suddenly very uncomfortable.

"Melissa, I was actually going to let you go until you spat in my face."

She screamed some more nonsense as I pulled the blankets from the bed and
dropped them to the floor. Her eyes were quite wide as I walked around and got
back onto the bed with her.

She recoiled as I rolled myself onto her again and forced her legs apart.

"There, now, Melissa," I said with my cock poised at her entrance, "now we can
finish what you started."

My chemically enhanced cock slipped right back into her moist, warm body and she
silently endured my renewed attention.

The only vocalizations I had from her for twenty minutes were little gasps as
I'd give her sudden, deep thrusts in the middle of my steady lovemaking. With no
more complaints I enjoyed kissing her neck, caressing her breasts and her arms,
and she didn't complain when I pulled her legs up to my sides, allowing me to
bottom out my cock in her lovely body.

She closed her eyes and kissed me back when I dared to place my lips on hers.
The returned affection made me push into her a little harder and I was rewarded
with a familiar feeling. Her tender little pussy contracted around my cock as
the little vixen milked me.

Our kissing became more fervored and her legs gradually spread further to accept

I felt like a man again as the young woman responded to me.

It took some more keen effort, but she finally rewarded me with a prize beyond
price for a man such as myself.

My reward sounded like this:


Melissa's pussy spasmed about my thrusting cock as the beauty surrendered to her

There was a time when I'd have become gentle at a time like this, but this
wasn't the time. I got up on the girl in a push-up position until the only place
where we touched was where I plunged into her again and again.

She strained to spread her legs wider as I prolonged her sexual release. My
chest was thumping wildly and I saw a drop of sweat fall from my forehead to the
lust inflamed breast beneath me. I fucked her as hard as I could. I fucked her
'till she screamed and fell completely limp.

It wouldn't be long now. I could feel it. I grit my teeth as my lungs burned
with the effort to keep up with my body.

Melissa tossed about like a ragdoll as I fucked her relentlessly.

My arms gave out and I fell onto her body, crushing her into the mattress. I
kissed her and thrust my toungue into her weakened mouth and felt her tender
little toungue meet mine.

I thrust into her deeply and held myself there.

"Oh, Jesus." I heard her say.

My hard cock throbbed and swelled and poured my come into the girl's eager pussy
like a firehose.

"Oh, God...oh, God...oh, God..."

With each pulse of my come into her pussy she'd call upon Divinity. It was quite
a nice compliment, really.

Her legs relaxed and I lay my head at the side of hers while my cock stayed
unnaturally firm as it spasmed for a while longer.

The sheets were quite sodden with our comingled sweat and other sundry juices. I
felt around and touched her thigh and she responded by pulling her leg up to my
side. The movement stimulated me and I made a slight thrust into Melissa.


And thus, were we off and at it again. In the middle of fucking her the second
time, I undid the handcuffs and was rewarded with a lovely kiss from my bedmate.

Eleven in the morning was when my cock finally went limp for the day after doing
a yeoman's job of repeatedly servicing my young guest. We weakly made our way to
the shower together and Melissa surprised me yet again with her tenderness as we
washed each other.

"Phil, I'm glad you didn't let me go. God, I had no idea what an older guy could
be like...shit."

I kissed her and held her tight, wishing the moment would never end.

Hmmph. I did have three more pills left, didn't I?

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