Universal Constance - Sex Stories

Universal Constance

... allowed him to move me, part my legs to his liking, thus giving him unhindered access. As he unclipped the halter, he kissed my neck, nibbled my cute diamond-studded lobes and pressed his swelling groin into my backside. Between alternately forceful fondles and gentle, almost loving caresses, he removed his own clothing. The battered tweed jacket with leather-patched elbows was placed neatly on a nearby teetering pile of random scientific literature. Matching trousers quickly followed suit. Now he knelt behind me, stripping off his bow tie and shirt while pressing his nose between my rounded buttocks, his tongue testing the gusset of my luxurious panties. Reaching hands cupped and squeezed my now naked breasts. He suddenly tugged and twisted my nipples till my eyes watered, till I almost cried out, though knowing he'd be upset at the thought of hurting me, I bit my lip and somehow kept my silence. 'You have your mother's tight arse, my dear, her smell, her taste...' Had they been lovers? Many averred it, though I doubted it, had always imagined such references he made to her were merely another way for him to heighten his arousal while fucking me. During our early trysts, I had often used a similar trick, fantasising he had serviced her moments before he began servicing me. Though the thought should have disgusted me, I found myself grinding my arse into his face, longing for his tongue to penetrate my sphincter or tease my aching clit, and all while answering to her name. ...

... In truth, he could have been fucking my entire extended family for all I cared: his genius, his peerless reputation, turned me on beyond both the bounds of belief and the bounds of decency. He pulled down my panties just enough and licked between my cheeks. As he lost his tongue to my puckered arsehole, I was similarly lost amid the maze of his equations, turning and twisting, careering excitedly onwards then halting and carefully retracing my steps. Prodigy that I irrefutably was, I had nevertheless waited patiently in the wings, rehearsing for the moment I would take centre stage. As soon as I saw it, I sensed this work to be a watershed, and, if it proved to be so, I determined to learn these lines, amend and polish them in my own inimitable style, and deliver them complete to the next generation. However, I had already recognised tiny flaws, errors that could potentially multiply. Indeed, they were already chewing away at the very roots of the professor's brave new world-shaking theory. One by one, I corrected them, squashed them dead before they could run amok, while making mental notes of every proposed alternative. Then I carried the corpses up through the layers of arcane symbols and lay them out on the solid ground of a growing certainty: whether he were right or wrong, there was - amongst this great man's astounding recent achievement - enough truth to fuel years of research and speculation. A series of tugs and my knickers were stretched around my knees. Once more ...