" THE student " - Sex Stories

" THE student "

... large erection clear through the fabric. "It's no fun if I can't see you." I was breathless and spread eagled on the sofa. "Take that bra off so I can tit-fuck you." The sex was everything I remembered. We hadn't been together in six months but the old rhythms soon came back and Mr. Newark had me in every position, in every hole and finished the two hour session off by spunking on my face. As we laid side by side on the bedroom floor, covered in sweat, conversation inevitably came round to money and my lack of it. I hadn't paid anything towards dinner, that wasn't expected of me, but I couldn't have anyway. I was skint. Mr. Newark had always paid me for my time so that I could save for university, but now I was at university I was missing the money. Even the fact that I was all the way up north in Manchester, which was supposedly cheaper than my native London, wasn't much help to my over-stretched pocket. "I do know a man who's looking for a young girl in your neck of the woods." He said. My ears pricked up. "He's on the outskirts, in Salford." I had been thinking for the past six months that I could really use another Sugar Daddy, but I didn't know where to begin. I had even gone as far as to look at a website which specialised in older man/younger woman hook ups, but all of the men who had got in contact with me were offering laughable cash. "He had a student girl up there he was using, but she graduated last year." "I'd be very interested." I said, eagerly. "Can you put ...

... me in touch?" Back at uni a few weeks later, I was studying in my room when my mobile phone rang. I looked at the display. "Mr. Newark" it said. I answered. "Good news, Beth." He began. "I got in touch with my friend and sent him some pictures of you." I could just imagine the kind of pictures Mr. Newark had sent, considering the filth he'd taken of me over the years. "He absolutely loved them and wants to put an offer to you." "I'm listening." I said. "He's offering to pay you £500 a month," I grinned, that was a fortune, "for you to visit him three times a week. His wife lectures at Edinburgh University but only lives up there in the week, so he's got the house on week days and is looking for a young woman to help him out probably on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings." I smiled. This sounded perfect. "Can I have his number?" I asked. "Of course, Beth." Mr. Newark said. "But I'm warning you he does like some pretty extreme things." My heart sank. "How extreme?" "Nothing crazy." Mr. Newark reassured me. "He doesn't want golden showers or anything...." He paused. "He likes what I believe they term 'grudge fucking'." I was puzzled. "What's that?" I said. "Rough sex." Mr. Newark said. "Very rough sex." I didn't know what to make of that, really. I took the man, Donald's, number, and sat pondering this 'grudge fucking'. I turned to my laptop and googled it. There wasn't much information on this phenomenon, but there were a few porn clips. I downloaded them and watched. The ...