The Penis Mightier Than The Sword

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Ass

Author’s note: All characters in the following completely fictional story are older than 18.

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Someone wise once told me that sometimes you have to be willing to make a fool of yourself to accomplish anything worthwhile. There’s a certain ring to that, but experience has taught me that sometimes it’s enough to accidentally make a fool of yourself. And who better to make a fool out of a young man like me than a beautiful girl? So that’s where we begin, with me and a girl I had chemistry with.

No, I don’t mean we had chemistry together like that special, emotional bond that sparks between the stars of a romantic comedy. We had General Chemistry 101 together and we were both a little slow on the required assignments. I was a kind of nerdy liberal arts major with more interest in Shakespearean poetry than chemistry, but I was taking it to round out my education in the natural sciences. But until I met Celia, I had regretted signing up for the class. But gradually my interest in chemistry became more than academic. Once Celia and I started studying together, it became my favorite subject. She was a year ahead of me and majoring in nutrition, laughed a lot, had lovely green eyes, and a gorgeously curved body. Sometimes when I was talking to her, I’d forget what I was saying mid-sentence if her neckline slipped a little or she picked up a pencil she dropped on the ground. If she noticed my fascination, she never said anything- to my relief. I would have been extremely embarrassed to be caught staring like that, but I couldn’t help myself.

As the semester wore on, I found my self day-dreaming in my other classes. How could anyone expect me to pay in attention in the dark astronomy lectures after chemistry when I couldn’t stop thinking about Celia? My eyes glazed out and I tuned out the professor’s drone as I imagined more and more complex fantasies of us together ending up locked in passionate sex. Honestly, some were rather silly, but hey, they were my day dreams and I’ll do as I please! In one, I was a buff firefighter, saving her from a collapsing building (Ha! Imagine me, ripped with muscle doing brave things like some kind of action hero. I have to keep from chuckling a little myself). “Oh thank you, Mark. You’re my hero! I’m so grateful, please, if there’s anything I could do…” she would sigh dramatically in my arms, her cocktail dress burnt to shreds revealing her smooth, shapely legs. In own mind, I was bold, charming, mysterious and handsome and she wanted me as bad as I wanted her. I imagined her staring into my eyes and sliding out of her dress, wrapping her legs around me and riding my rock hard cock. So by the end of class, I usually had an empty mind and a full penis. I nearly always had to stay in my seat for a couple minutes after class pretending to finish up my notes in order to avoid the embarrassment of standing up with a visible tent in my pants.

But even that wasn’t as bad as the mental torture I endured on a weekly basis. Every Sunday night, we met in her dorm to go over the assignments for the week. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Oh we had fun together: laughing over our professor’s funny accent, watching stuff on youtube, wasting time- but that was the problem. In class we had structured assignments and lectures and my mind could never wander too far down her blouse because I desperately needed to pass chemistry. But on our own… that was dangerous. I tried to focus on our work, I really did, but my brain had other ideas. My palms got moist imagining cupping her perfect breasts, kissing neck and nibbling on her ear while that sexy dark hair rippled down her back. Straining to see if she was wearing a thong under those tight sweats covering that delicious ass…wondering if I could peel it off with my teeth…

This was getting out of hand. I knew if this went on, I would say or do something stupid and I’d never see her again. I needed an outlet, somewhere to release all this frustration and naughty creativity that was lurking inside me. Eventually I decided on writing. Putting how I felt into words was powerful. On one hand, it gave me somewhere to satisfy the burning need to rip the clothes off of this sexy and interesting girl so I could pay attention to valence orbitals and reaction equilibria. On the other hand, I knew I was just deepening my obsession with her. When I tried to write a character for her, I felt myself being drawn into who she was so I could really understand well enough to imagine her perspective. Somehow I knew it wasn’t healthy to create a fictional character based on a real one, trying to capture the tone of her skin (dark, olive, probably mediterranean) in prose left me feeling that I somehow wasn’t living up to her true beauty. Each attempt left me a little unsatisfied, and more determined to make our literary romance into something more real. More details, more passion, more action.

Something was missing though, and for a long time I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. I think my desire was taking over the story. I couldn’t focus on what should happen in the story because I was too distracted by how bad I wanted it to Ankara escort happen. But I didn’t see any way around it, and I wasn’t planning on ever showing anyone else anyway, so what did it matter? But as it happened, I was in for a surprise that would help me with my little problem…

The semester was drawing to a close and as much as I hated to think about it, our little study sessions were running out. I was in love. Or parts of me were in love. In any case I was in lust, and for the record, it can be rather hard to tell the difference when you’re heart is aflutter. The last week of class I was working on what I thought was perhaps my best story yet. It was Victorian fantasy, which I was enjoying because it meant I got to squeeze Celia into a corset and garter. I think I had some report due about English sexual repression or some such due in one of my other classes and I was having fun with it. My character and Celia’s character were part of some arranged marriage and initially hate each other, but I win her over by tying her up and teaching her to be a good Victorian wife by fucking some sense into her virgin pussy and giving her some forced orgasms until she falls in love with me. Horrible, yes, I know. Taming of the Shrew a la BDSM/rape or something like that- my extremely feminist English professor would beat the living daylights out of me. But hey, a story is just a story and its not like I’m planning on sharing it so I might as well write whatever I felt like.

So saved the file to my flash drive so I could work on my laptop and left for the last chemistry study session of the year. My mind had finally simmered down after the writing final sex scene where she becomes my willing slave and offers a sexy massage and her first blowjob of her own volition with her swallowing my cum. I was relaxed, focused and ready to study for my chemistry final, knowing that this would be my last chance for inspiration.

I showed up at her dorm that evening as usual and opened my chemistry book and laptop on the floor. She got out her notebook and text and lay down next me on the floor. We went over some practice problems from the book as usual, but eventually we got stumped. Luckily I had the solutions as text file on my flash drive and plugged it into my laptop to help. We got through a couple chapters that way and I felt like we’d made a lot of headway. It was getting late though, and I usually went back to my apartment at 10:30 on Sundays. I yawned and stretched and we sat up. Suddenly Celia’s eyes sparkled with that mischievous look that I’ve spent paragraphs trying to capture. It must be said; her smile is contagious.

“Have a beer with me! Let’s celebrate the end of this rotten class, c’monnn.” She looked at me with a little pout. As if I was going to resist.

“II’ll drink to that!” I laughed. I didn’t have any intention of getting trashed on a Sunday night, but one beer was just a little fun. But I didn’t want to go home and one beer turned into two and then three, and then I don’t remember how many. My alcohol tolerance isn’t exactly the kind of thing I usually brag about. We laughed and talked about all the time we spent together and mused about our mutual friends. We both hoped we’d have classes together next semester, but hadn’t made our schedules yet. By the end of the night we were sitting together watching tv, much closer than friends. I found myself wanting to put my arm around her and maybe kiss her. I was too drunk or maybe not drunk enough, I don’t know. But I decided I ought to get some sleep and packed up my things and stumbled out the door.

It wasn’t for hours after I rolled out of bed the next morning that I realized it. My heart sank into my stomach and I could feel the blood draining from my face. I left my flash drive on Celia’s floor. Shit. SHIIIIIIIITTTTTT. It had my Victorian story and two more drafts of other stories, that, truth be told, were some of my more scandalous works.

Okay, no reason to panic though, she probably didn’t even notice, and even if she did it’s not like shes going to look through it. I wouldn’t look through someone else’s flash drive that I found…well actually I probably would. SHIT. But shes nothing like me, I’m sure she’d want to respect my privacy. Yeah, there’s no real reason for her to ever need to plug it in.

I breathed a sigh of relief and regained my composure. I was silly to get all worked up like that. Yep, I was all worried over nothing there’s no way she’ll need to even plug it in…except for my chemistry solutions manual I had saved on there. I wasn’t even going to think about that. I’ll just text her to bring it to class tomorrow and that’s that.

And that was that. Only, I couldn’t get the idea of her accidentally finding my stories and reading them out of my mind. It’s not as if she wouldn’t know the characters were me and her, I didn’t even change our names (hey, in my defense, I never even dreamed of showing any of my stories to anyone else). What would she think of me? She’d be disgusted I’m sure, by me fantasizing about her behind her back. Horrified by the way I was forcing her character into pleasuring me; it wasn’t as Ankara escort bayan if I asked her permission to write these stories. Would she be grossed out by the sexual acts I described? I remembered with embarrassment a particular passage where I described separating her legs by grabbing her thighs apart and then letting the wetness of her pussy travel down my tongue into my mouth. Then sucking on her clit and tonguing up and down the opening hard and fast until I could feel her muscles spasm in orgasm. Would that even be pleasurable? I wasn’t a virgin, but I was no expert either and just because something sounds sexy to me doesn’t mean it would feel good in a more practical setting.

What if, and my cock twitched in my pants at the idea, she actually enjoyed my story and thought it was hot? What if she masturbated reading it? Just the thought of her breathing hard, biting her lip, eyes glued to my writing…I felt a little faint. I tried to push the thought from my mind and I almost couldn’t admit it to myself, but I loved the idea of her getting off to my descriptions of my member penetrating her inch by inch. More likely she was disgusted and would never talk to me again, but maybe she’d be flattered. But probably not.

The rest of my day dragged on. I got a text from her later, and my heart lept back out of my stomach and into my throat. “No prob. Found it on my floor ill bring tmr. see ya :)” Well that was good…I think. No mention of police or restraining orders, it sounds like she didn’t even plug it into her computer. Or if she did she didn’t want to talk about it. That was probably the best I could hope for, I decided. That she would say nothing about it, either because she didn’t know about my dirty little secret, or she wanted to pretend she didn’t know.

I didn’t sleep very well and showed up for chemistry class a little late the next day. Some frat guy took my usual spot next to Celia and while I usually would have been upset I was a little relieved. I took my spot in the back and fretted my way through the last lecture before the final, trying to take at least a couple good notes. But class ended all too soon. Celia stood up, gracefully as ever, looking amazing (as usual). She was wearing tight, dark blue jeans that hugged her hips in all the right ways and a grey t-shirt with…no bra? Those breasts must be so firm and perky and…

Oh whoops, she was waving at me to come over. I swallowed and felt my heart sink down into my intestines this time. But she smiled, beautiful as always and talked animatedly about the final and her how she was organizing a study group for her Biology II class or something like that. I couldn’t really pay attention. Between watching those sexy lips that I’ve imagined whispering dirty things in my ear, and worrying about my flash drive, I just nodded and smiled sheepishly. I couldn’t feel my feet and I was sure I was going to have a heart attack if we stayed there. Finally she reached into her back pocket.

“Oh! Right! I almost forgot to give this back to you, you’ll probably need that solutions guide to study for the final, huh? Well, hope we can hang out some time next semester!” And with that she dangled the drive into my outstretched palm, but the back of her pen up to the corner of her lips, smiled and gave me a tiny wink. Maybe I imagined the wink, I don’t know. Then she spun around and left, leaving me standing there watching her legs and ass sway as she walked away. As I realized I had my flash drive safely back in my hand, I let out the breath I had been holding for what seemed like years. I tucked the drive in my pocket and allowed myself a little smile. She didn’t see it! I would have to be a lot more careful in the future, I told myself.

I skipped astronomy and went back to take a nap and catch up on some much needed sleep. But as I was taking my pants off to get in bed, I remembered the flash drive in my pocket. Better move those files back over to my computer before I forget and go out again, I thought. So I booted up and plugged it in, ready to transfer the three offending files. I clicked, I dragged, but suddenly I stopped. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A new folder on the drive called “Mark.” Oh shhiiiiiiitttttttt.

I stared at it for probably a good five minutes before I could muster up the courage to click the folder. Inside were two files, a text file named “you dirty bastard” and a different file with a nonsense name and an extension I didn’t really recognize- I’m not really much of a computer guy. Maybe she sent me a virus, I realized with dread. My whole body vibrating, I clicked the text file. What was was inside follows:

“Mark, I wasn’t going through your stuff on purpose, but I wanted to check my answers to the practice problems in chapter 12, so I used your flash drive. I’ll admit I couldn’t help opening the file named “A quaint fuck.doc” I’m sorry for going through your stuff, but I wanted to tell you I think you’re a pretty good writer! You didn’t even change our names though, you nasty boy 😉 I knew beneath your shy mumbling was something more, but I was surprised to find this so…seductive. You’ve got me hooked Mark, Escort Ankara I couldn’t help but read all three stories and they got me really hot. I wanted you to know the whole time I was reading I was imagining you undressing me, kissing me, playing with my breasts and nipples. I thought about your cock sliding inside me, Mark. I’ll bet that really turns you on, huh? You dirty dirty bastard. I wanted to pay you back for helping me…relax. But I’m not much of a writer, so I made you a little surprise. Enjoy! And don’t you dare send it to anyone else or I swear I’ll chop your dick off. XOXO, Celia”

I stared at the little note for a really long time. I was…surprised. Confused. Not to mention a bit scared by that last sentence. But looking down at the growing tension between my legs, I knew I was going to click that mystery file, no matter what the damage to my computer was.

At first my media player opened and I was a little bit relieved. The screen was black. I turned up the sound all the way and heard a little rustling and then a giggle. Finally the screen lit up as some fingers left the lens and I saw Celia sitting in a chair under a camera. Well, I’m sure it was Celia, but the top of the frame was cut off so I couldn’t see her eyes, only her lips and down. She was wearing what looked like pajamas and was rocking back and forth nervously. “Hi!!!” she whispered and then giggled again to herself. Maybe she was a little drunk, I don’t know. I was mesmerized watching her.

She bit her lip with her top teeth and then, to my delight, began sliding down the straps of her little white shirt. And then with that devilish look I love, she took it off. I about had a heart attack right there, staring at her beautiful chest. Tan with no tan lines around her sculpted, perfect breasts. My eyes were drawn towards the nipples that had started large and soft, but were shrinking and getting harder and longer as I watched. I wanted to take each breast in my hand and put my lips on her nipples and circle them with my tongue. I wondered if she’d mind if I nibbled a little with my teeth pulling lightly while I massaged her chest and back with my fingertips. As if to answer my question, she started to caress herself. I couldn’t believe my eyes as I watched her nails lightly graze her stomach and then drift upwards. She let out a little sigh as she pinched both of her now very erect nipples in between her fingers and started rolling them back and forth. I saw her take a deep breath and then let it out with a barely audible growl.

I was frozen in awe staring at the screen watching Celia’s expert performance. She reached down and took off her pajama pants in one fluid motion. Oh, how I wanted to explore every inch of her with my tongue…I’d make her legs a playground for my mouth. Then she stood up and turned around so I could admire the royal blue thong I had spent many a night straining to see. Bending over a little she let her hands slide down the small of her back, over her tight, round ass and down to the backs of her thighs where her fingernails began scratching tiny circles on her smooth skin. I moaned just watching. God, that was sexy and she made it look so…effortless.Then her fingers slid up, hooked in her thong. She gave it a little shake, as though she could hear the gasp I made, and started to inch the fabric down, one side at a time.

Then she sat back down with what sounded like a low laugh. She must have known how bad she was teasing me. Then I watched as she placed her middle finger up to her lips and then gave it a slow lick and smiled. She let the finger slide back down her neck and zig-zagged across her chest. Then it danced slowly across her stomach and stopped for a moment at her hip. Then she shifted and spread her legs. After dreaming of seeing Celia naked like this for so long, the moment had a feeling of unreality to it. Then she bit her lip again and brought her finger to the top of her pussy. It was neatly trimmed, I see her lips spreading under a little curly dark hair. She was pressing gently just above her clit, not quite stroking, but kind of massaging her skin around it.Then she started to work her hand in tiny circles, still not quite touching her clit. Finally, looking down at herself, she let her fingers travel lower. The moment it touched her clit she let out a whimper that turned into a moan and her fingers continued in between her pussy lips.

Starting slowly, she began reaching down and curling a middle finger towards her body. I could see the moisture from her wetness shining a little in the light from the camera. I wanted to help her so bad…help get her pussy really wet, tracing those gorgeous lips with my tongue and sucking on her clit. I licked my lips just thinking about it. Celia was picking up her pace and started penetrating herself with her middle finger before adding her index finger. With her other hand she was cupping her left breast and occasionally touching her nipple. I could barely hear over the thunderous racing of my own heart, but I realized I could hear her breathing, hard and ragged. She would take a deep breath and then hold it for a second and let it out quickly with a short moan, fucking herself with two fingers and stroking her clit with her thumb. Her hips were starting to roll forward and buck to meet her fingers and I could see waves of spasms pass through her stomach and legs.

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