Chapter 9
When she finally withdrew it I could see her juices glistening in the cold fluorescent lights. I started to bring it up to my mouth but she stopped my hand and sucked my finger into her mouth. With great gusto she fellated my finger in the same manner she had used on another part of my body. My cock strained against my jeans as I watched my finger disappear and reappear between those black lips. With a smile and a light kiss she let my hand fall into my lap.
The lone student had gathered his things and was approaching the counter. With my erection I was in no condition to stand but fortunately Zara jumped up and handed him his ID. "Thanks for coming in. Have a good night," she said pleasantly. He murmured a goodnight and left.
Zara leaned back against the desk. "Now, when do you get off?" This time, the question was definitely loaded.
"Six," I teased, pretending to be clueless.
"No fucking imagination," she muttered, shaking her head. The next instant she was kneeling before me, unbuckling my belt and undoing my zipper. As it turns out, it was only a matter of minutes before I got off.
Zara, on the other hand, got off repeatedly over the next hour. I have to admit it was the best shift I have ever worked in my life.
Our second client was a petite, mousy girl with dirty blond hair. We met at her apartment where she was waiting with Amanda. Amanda hugged me tightly when we walked in and introduced me to her friend Sara who only managed a barely audible greeting. Sara took me to her bedroom while Amanda and Zara talked in the living room.
Sara and I faced each other for several awkward moments in the darkness. She stood suddenly on her tiptoes and gave me a brief, nervous kiss before shoving me hard onto the bed. Quick as a cat she was on me, peppering my face and neck with hard kisses. I tried to slow her down and assume control but her movements were frantic and unpredictable. Before I knew it she had my shirt off and was wriggling out of her clothes.
Sara crawled up my body and settled her crotch on my head. She ground her sex against my mouth, the pressure so great it felt like my jaw was going to dislocate. In desperation I tongued her clit hard and she came with a shudder, drenching me in her juices. I bathed her with long licks from the very bottom of her cunt up to the hard nub of her clit. Sara relaxed and gently rode my face to several more orgasms. When she was finished she knelt beside me and licked my face.
"Can I touch you?" Sara asked meekly as I stood by the bed tucking in my shirt. I nodded and she reached out with a tentative hand to feel my crotch. She rubbed and squeezed me for a minute before asking, "Can I see it?"
I shrugged and undid my pants, exposing myself. She stared at it, wide-eyed, and made several attempts to reach for it but always pulled her hand back. "It's ok," I reassured her.
Sara steeled herself before taking me in her hand, running her fingers up and down the length before lingering for several minutes over the tip. Her thumb and forefinger rubbed the head, smearing the pre-cum and making it slick. She tugged on my cock, her pace increasing with each passing minute until her hand was a blur. Her head swayed towards me, her lips open and I thought she was going to take me in her mouth. Instead, she gave me a firm squeeze and turned away to gather her jeans. I was so close to orgasm.
When we rejoined the others in the living room, Zara and I made our goodbyes. Sara whispered something to Amanda who raised her eyebrows in surprise. Amanda hugged me goodbye, this time pressing her thigh firmly against my crotch for several long seconds. As soon as the door was closed behind us shrieks of laughter emanated from the apartment. Zara nudged me and said, "You did that. You created that joy." I smiled and stuffed my hands in my pockets to hide my erection. "Come on," Zara said, "let's go back to your room and you can tell me all about it."
We had a few more clients in January and February and by early March we were averaging almost one a week. Each girl was different and each girl was special in their own way. My favorites were the introverts like Sara who couldn't speak in an audible voice or look me in the eye but once we were alone transformed into a feral ball of lust. These encounters were exciting, unpredictable, terrifying, and draining. Their energy and enthusiasm was always matched and sometimes exceeded by Zara, as if she was somehow competing against them.
Only once did I back out and that was because the girl was falling down drunk when we showed up at her place. Three days later we met again and everything worked out great. By late March I had been with more girls than any guy I knew. Zara's plan was working just like she planned: The girls were happy, I was meeting new people, and Zara and I both enjoyed what we had termed 'the debriefing.' The only problem was that although I enjoyed being with these girls, I began to feel hollow.
I wanted the emptiness to be filled by Zara but, emotionally, she was still keeping me at arm's length. In the afterglow of her orgasms her defenses would sometimes break down and she would let me in a little but those moments were rare and fleeting.
One spring day we were deep in the bowels of the main library where I told her about the latest client. Without warning two slickened fingers were forced between my lips. The taste of her made me hard in an instant. Unable to control myself, I dropped to my knees and reached under her skirt. In my haste to remove her panties I tore them, making Zara gasp. I lifted her skirt and saw her nectar welling up along her slit.
When I parted her sex a large drop rolled slowly down. When I plunged my tongue into her she moaned and cradled my head. When she came she screamed quietly through pursed lips.
I stood and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. Our part of the library was as quiet as a tomb apart from Zara's panting. She took a moment to look around to be sure we were still alone then reached out to squeeze the bulge in my pants as she kissed me. Squeezing turned to rubbing, rubbing turned to unfastening, unfastening turned to stroking. By the time the kiss ended her hand was deep down the front of my briefs.
Zara pushed my jeans and briefs down past my buttocks and let gravity pull them slowly to the floor. We both looked down and watched as she stroked me, the deep-red head of my cock appearing and disappearing in her pale fist. She kissed me again, her tongue probing my mouth before running lightly over my lips. She smiled and we both looked down again to see clear fluid seeping from the tip. There was now a quiet wet sound keeping time with each pass of her hand over the head. I swelled in her hand.
She knelt and kissed just the tip, rubbing the head lightly over her lips like an obscene lip gloss. I shivered. Kiss followed kiss on my fleshy head, each kiss longer and more sensual than the last. I watched her make out with my cock - her eyes closed, her lips shiny with my precum, her tongue now integral to the kisses and wetting my head with her saliva -- and a heaviness grew in my balls. She had not yet taken me in her mouth and I was close to coming.
As my body tensed her kisses grew more frequent and more open mouth, teasing my orgasm to the surface. Occasionally the tip would slip into her mouth and her tongue would suckle. Zara toyed with me the way a cat toys with a mouse, making me tremble. When I was at the limit of self-control, she paused and looked up.
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