“Am I hurting you?” Chance asked.
“No,” I said, closing my eyes as I felt him move deeper inside me. “No.”
I was so wet that he could move inside me easily. I could hear the sound of our bodies making contact, the carnal confronting sound that two bodies make when flesh meets flesh. He was moving slowly, easing me into this new and amazing experience. He was trying to relax me, but he didn’t need to. He already had me. I was putty in his hands, and I was shocked he hadn’t already seen that.
“Does this feel good?” he asked.
“Yes,” I gasped. It was hard to talk when I was trying so hard not to scream. “Yes.”
“I want to make you cum,” he whispered into my ear. “This is your first time… I want to make it special.”
“Make me cum,” I groaned, digging my fingers into his back.
Chance kissed me for a moment before his strokes started getting harder and deeper. As the tempo of his thrusts grew increasingly more vigorous, I gasped in shock. I could hear the sound of his pelvis slamming into mine, and I realized I could no longer contain my screams. I dug my fingernails deeper into his back and clung as he fucked me.
The sensation of cumming was nothing like I’d experienced before. It was like an avalanche. At first, it was a slow build, but then it picked up steam and grew increasingly more intense until it had taken out everything in its path. I breathed deeply, trying to get my bearings. All I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Another part of me registered Chance’s weight, resting lightly on top of me.
I was still clinging to him, and it felt to me as though I was still wet down there. After a moment, he rolled off so that he was lying next to me. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and I couldn’t help turning towards him and putting my hand against his heart.
“Well… how was that for a first-time experience?” he asked, once we’d both got a chance to catch our breath.
I smiled. “It was…orgasmic.”
Chance laughed and tucked me under one arm. But I was not ready to lie back and relax just yet. I was still hungry for him, and I was starting to realize that this wasn’t nearly enough for me.
“Fuck me again,” I said, leaning in and whispering in his ear.
He laughed. “Again?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to have to let me recharge my batteries first,” he said.
“How long do you need?” I asked.
Chance smiled. “Ten minutes.”
“I can wait ten minutes,” I said happily as I lay back in his arms.
Chapter Eighteen
Chance
“Chance,” Derek Stiller greeted, as I walked into the copy room.
“Professor Stiller,” I nodded, in reply. “Good morning.”
“Has the copier been fixed?”
“Last evening,” I nodded.
“Thank goodness,” he replied. “I hated having to walk to the library to get my copies sorted out.”
Professor Derek Stiller was a large, balding man in his early sixties. He had been teaching at the university for thirty years now and had achieved tenure a couple of years ago. He was a well-respected lecturer and researcher in academic circles, but he was also known as a stickler for rules around the staff water cooler.
“I didn’t see you at the departmental meeting yesterday?” Derek said.
“Uh… I had papers to grade.”