Unknown - Her brute master

"I'll miss you," I said, "but you'll be back in September."

"I'll miss you, too," Brad responded, "nobody can satisfy me the way you do." He leaned over me and started kissing my breasts again, concentrating on my nipples, trying to make them hard.

"Oh, Brad, I'm tired," I lied. I wasn't really tired, I was just getting a little bored with his love-making.

Dinner, a movie, and a night together in bed had become our routine week-end activity. When I first met Brad, he had excited me. He had a strong, take-charge attitude that I liked a lot. He didn't ask me to go out with him as much as he had told me he was taking me out.

At the end of our first date, when he kissed me good-night on the steps of my dormitory, I had resisted him, just for form's sake, really. But he wouldn't be resisted. He held my body next to his and kissed me firmly on the mouth, using his tongue in ways I had never felt before. After all, I was only a freshman and not very experienced, sexually.

Then, on our second date, he took me back to his fraternity house and made love to me. He didn't ask me, he just did it. He took my clothes off of my body as if he owned them, and me. He smiled appreciatively when he saw my thirty-eight inch, D-cup breasts. He kept on smiling when he pulled off my panties and saw that I was a natural blonde. He ran his fingers through the silky soft hairs covering my nearly-virgin pussy and I watched his pants develop that tell-tale bulge that tells a girl when she's about to get fucked.

I've always been proud of my body and it gave me a girlish thrill to see how it could excite a man. My slender waist and hips have been as much fun to flaunt as my nicely shaped boobies and Brad's unmistakable excitement was confirmation that I was developing from a pretty girl into a beautiful woman.

We made love for hours that first night together, Brad trying new ways to excite and satisfy both me and himself. I didn't object to anything he did, or asked me to do. His strong, well-muscled body was one that I had always hoped my lover would have. He took complete charge of me that night and I thought that I had found the one man that was right for me.

I soon discovered I was wrong, though. Soon Brad began becoming solicitous toward me. If I was in a bad mood, or not feeling well, he'd want to do things for me, he would act weak and start asking my permission to make love. I couldn't tell him how much that turned me off. Seeing him acting unsure of himself, as if I could grant or deny him what he wanted, made me dislike, no, despise him.

But I couldn't say anything to him about it. I've never been able to talk to men that way, not as an equal. It just has never seemed right to me. Most women, too, at least those who are older or prettier than me, always have power over me. It has always seemed that I should defer to their wishes, that I should follow their orders rather than trying to assert myself.

That's how I've always felt, but I've never done anything about it. I've always just waited for the universe to create itself around me and hoped that it would be the way I like it, but never feeling as though I had the power to do anything about it. Little did I know that this was ail about to change.

This was going to be our last night together for at least three months. The last test of our freshman year at UCLA was completed and Brad was ready to leave for his summer job as a steward on board a cruise ship. I envied him a little bit. I liked the idea of taking a cruise to Central America, through the Panama Canal and then up to Florida and back again. I could work on my tan and get paid for the vacation, only having to work half days.

Besides, there was something appealing about working as a servant, something about being given orders and not having to make decisions that appealed to me.

"Maybe this will wake you up," he said, moving down from my breasts. His tongue trailed down my firm, smooth abdomen, playing momentarily at my navel, and then plunged on, further down to the center of my sex-self.

He breathed on my pussy, letting his warm, moist breath tickle and excite me. Then he ran his tongue up and down my slit, gently at first, trying to arouse, rather than satisfy me.

I raised my knees and opened my thighs, giving him better access to my love-box. His tongue worked its way into my slit and began teasing the inside of my vagina. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sensations Brad was giving me, willing myself to get more excited, wanting to come for him.

Thankfully, Brad turned his body around on the bed and climbed over me, presenting me with his dick to suck while he kept on eating me.

Gratefully, I opened my mouth and guided his cock into it. It felt so much better having him over me, like this, covering my body with his, pinning my head to the bed with his prick. Finally, I was able to relax and enjoy the sensations Brad was giving me with his tongue.

I let the warm, moist feelings build and grow in my stomach. I felt them pulse and expand, getting hotter and wetter, getting closer and closer to orgasm.

Brad's cock filled my mouth and pressed against the back of my throat. He pumped his hips up and down, fucking me in the mouth while he ate my pussy. This was the kind of thing I liked him to do to me, just take charge and use me for his pleasure. He did it far too infrequently of late. I was glad he was leaving for the summer. As much as I envied him his job, I was relieved that I wouldn't be seeing him for three months. Maybe, by the time he got back, he'd have found a new girl-friend, or would just be tired of me.

Meanwhile, I was glad that our last night of love-making would at least be satisfying for me. I sucked hard on his dick, feeling it expand and harden even more. I liked the musky, sweet taste of it. I liked this position especially. I liked the feel of his balls rubbing against my nose when he pressed his dick down in my throat, almost choking me with it. I put my hands on his hips so I could guide his thrusts into my mouth.

Avidly, Brad licked and sucked at my pussy. His tongue became increasingly active as he neared his own orgasm. He buried his face in my snatch and forced his tongue as far up my pussy as he could reach. I raised my legs and tilted my hips up to meet his tongue. Brad wrapped his arms around my thighs so he could hold and squeeze my buttocks while he ate me. His rhythmical licking and kneading brought me closer and closer to coming.

With one hand I reached around and took a hold of his scrotum. It was firm and tight. I wanted him to come soon. I felt my own orgasm building and I knew if I could make him come with me I might be able to really get off. I gently rubbed his balls, massaging them in their sack, feeling them move under my fingers.

Brad stopped pumping his hips. He became tense, rigid. He held his dick deep in my mouth and slowly, with tiny little jerks, pushed it deeper and deeper in. At the same time, he moved his mouth up my slit until he was sucking on my clitoris.

I was so grateful to him for finding that spot that I didn't mind that I could hardly breathe.

He slipped first one, then two fingers into my pussy and massaged the walls of my vagina while his tongue licked and sucked my clit.

I pressed and rubbed his balls harder, willing him to come now, when I was almost ready myself.

Finally, Brad's cock expanded even more. I felt the head throb and pulse against the back of my throat until, beautifully, wonderfully, sweetly, his come filled my mouth. I held him still and tried to swallow all that I could.

His sweet, musky fluid, so rich and thick, so much of it, was like a key to unlock my own floodgates of pleasure. Gratefully, I relaxed and let my orgasm flow down my loins and out my pussy. Wave after wave of warm, wet pleasure crashed over me, washing me clean, making me happy and almost satisfied, content to receive his flowing jissom into my mouth and down my throat.