Her face appearing round the door. Sunshine filling the room. Half recognizing her, then realizing, she looks just like a student at my college, the one every man wanted to conquer but couldn’t, except, this one’s even prettier.
Pulling off her clothes, revealing her body. Its curves and softness and firmness and coloration having an immediate transfixing effect. Peach, a good choice for her name.
Seeing my male response, and taking it as normal. Curling into my body, nipples touching my chest, kissing me. Moving down to my cock, taking it in her mouth. Her actions and motions, those of an expert, smoothly overriding any preferences I might have had or thought I had. In doing so, proven correct, my body reduced to grateful submission to her touch.
Prolonged oral immersion for my cock, sometimes deep, sometimes almost withdrawn for her tongue’s tip to titillate. My head resting raised on a pillow, my eyes surveying the pretty student face engaged in its work.
Stopping, picking up a condom, tearing open the pack, stretching it, putting it on me. Lying on her back, pulling me over her. Holding my cock, using it to stroke herself open. Her casual practicality and her overwhelming feminity and the intense sensory thrill on the tip of my cock setting off an electric charge, spreading throughout my loins like a tingle.
Entering her. A low moan, too soft to be contrived. A truly wondrous fit. The electric charge gathering for lightning strike. My efforts to arrest and postpone, futile. A sudden and total crumbling, a seismic spasm, a volcanic spurt, body and soul voiding into her womanhood.
Clenching her to me. Relaxing, releasing. Exiting her, rolling on to my back next to her. She sitting up gently, getting tissues, removing the condom, wiping me clean. For her, nothing out of the usual.
Getting dressed, giving her a hug, leaving. Checking my phone for the time, noticing, barely twenty minutes gone since I first saw her face.
Walking down the street, body and mind tingling with pleasure and health.
