Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Kalen on 07-03-2008, 13:37:41</h2>
		<dl id="posts">
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>07-03-2008, 13:37:41</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				For as long as he could remember, Ryan Miller had two loves.. reading and writing.&nbsp; He'd been a precocious child, and had been writing from an early age.. some of his early works had been published.&nbsp; By the time he was in high school, he had a publisher, and a literary agent who was pushing, pushing.. always pushing for that next book.<br><br>It was a lot of pressure for a young man.. even though he finished school early, and started university at 14, he was still being made to feel as if he weren't doing enough with his talent.&nbsp; And so he fell into the trap that so many university students and young writers did.. he began to drink.<br><br>But the books kept coming, even though the reviews kept getting worse.. and the publishing company kept milking their young cash cow.&nbsp; His agent, on the other hand.. kept harrassing him to get it together, to work to his potential.&nbsp; It was all too much, and at the ripe young age of 26.. the well went dry.&nbsp; Ryan found that he didn't seem to have the words anymore.. and began a self-destructive spiral of booze and drugs.<br><br>By the time he was thirty.. Ryan was a washed up loser, who had spent his small fortune.&nbsp; His family dragged him kicking and screaming to rehab, where he dried out.&nbsp; Looking for work, he found that his alma mater needed a creative writing teacher.. and he applied.&nbsp; They jumped at the chance.. after all, a lot of professors had problems.. but now, they had a genius author on staff.&nbsp; <br><br>So.. for the past five years, Ryan had taught creative writing, and had to carefully go through the hundreds of applicants before the class even started each year.&nbsp; He was drinking again.. but not as self destructively.&nbsp; Mostly, he drank to shut out the whispers of his students, and the jealous faculty who had never been published.. they called him a failure.&nbsp; That he taught because he couldn't write anymore.&nbsp; And he wasn't so sure that they were wrong.<br><br>Today found Ryan in his office.. drinking and grading papers.&nbsp; A wonderful combination, to be certain.&nbsp; His door was partially open, and the wing was deserted, it being a Friday afternoon.&nbsp; But as Ryan had nothing to go home for.. he stayed.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>07-03-2008, 17:11:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				&nbsp;Amber Bowen had applied for this class three semesters in a row. Every time she was rejected, she took it in stride, knowing she could do better. She also knew the benefits of being accepted, and was more than willing to do the work it took to satisfy the requirements. Every semester she improved, finally gaining a promotion to editor at the school newspaper, heady stuff indeed, as over fifty students had worked for that spot alone for years. <br><br>She worked part time for tuition as a proofreader in a small publishing house run by the school. her work usually consisted of more than spell-checking of course, most times she practically wrote the various documents, lectures, textbooks and miscellaneous pamphlets herself. No credit was given for this, but she was proud of her work all the same.&nbsp; Luckily, the job came with added benefits. Those whose work she "edited" knew the truth, and contacts were quick and sure as time went on. Most were tenured professors, some administrators, some last year students and alumni. She wasn't paid in cash, but favors were simple if she needed them. She had yet to call any in. <br><br>Amber was tempted to pull strings to gain access to this course, but her own personal ethics made her hesitate. She wanted in, yes, but she wanted it on her own merit. Besides, from what she knew of Ryan Miller, he was harsh in his judgments of other writers...not that she felt yet ready to bear that title. Sure she had heard the rumors of his has-been status, that he was there for a last desperate grab at recognition, his scandalous past...but she had also read his work. <br><br>She considered him a genius. She had a collection of his work hidden away under her bed, hidden so her roommate would have no ammo to use when she teased her about her "crush". Amber usually responded to the teasing with a faint smile, a roll of her azure blue eyes, flicking her namesake colored hair over her shoulder, and continued what she was doing. defending her opinions would only lead to further harassment. It wasn't a crush in any sense! She admired the man for facing the vicious whispers every day, coming to class looking haggard, surely a result of his late nights writing and typing away on his latest masterpiece. Of course he was working on one, authors like him were always working on <em>something</em>, as Amber could understand, having finally gotten twelve hundred pages into her own work. <br><br>This too was fodder for ridicule in her dorm. She had no social life. Her time spent between classes, she was taking three extra credits this semester, work, and writing. Had she given any indication of wanting to party or date, there would have been lines of offers--she simply wasn't interested. She had a three year plan--none of that involved drinking lukewarm beer in frat houses or hanging out at coffee shops. <br><br>She was satisfied with her routine. Her treatise on the Roman occupation of Britannia had been two years in the making, excerpts had been viewed with favor, though over and again she heard the same lectures--it was too clinical, too dry, perhaps a novel? At first she had scoffed at this, weren't there plenty enough authors making successful careers writing non fiction? But the market has <em>changed</em>, she was reminded, the A list authors weren't scholars, there was little financial gain in writing textbooks. She had potential, they intoned, she just needed direction. <br><br>Ryan Miller could write what she imagined they wanted. His words inspired her, painted intricate and detailed portraits in just a few lines. That was what she needed, she was positive. And he was right there! Entry into his class would give her that edge she needed. She would do anything to learn under him. <br><br>She was still on her high from finally being accepted through the first few weeks of the course. She took extensive notes, worked her new views into her "novel", arrived at class first and was usually the last one out, full of questions out of nowhere if only to have him impart his wisdom on the subjects. But time and again, her coursework came back marked with notes, she just wasn't getting what he wanted. Her high began to fade. <br><br>Her roommate noticed the change in her attitude, from optimistic and energetic, to distant and distracted. Lovesick she called her, which Amber, as usual, ignored. Her roommate would never understand her drive, her goals and the lengths she was willing to go to in order to fulfill them. She feared she would fail this class. Something just wasn't clicking. She was desperate.<br><br>Amber was a nervous wreck when she made the decision to go speak with him. Maybe there was some extra credit she could do, a teaching assistant maybe...Her roommate suggested sleeping with him, in that offhanded way she had. The idea made her stomach knot in an unexpected way, which she brushed off. Nevertheless, she spent hours preparing for the consultation, practicing what she would say in front of the mirror, even wearing makeup- which she rarely wasted time on. <br><br>She became calm the closer the time came. She looked her best, opting for skirt instead of her usual jeans and a tee, her dark honey blonde hair pulled back over her shoulders, a natural flush to her cheeks due to her anxiousness. She could do this, she had no reason for her palms to be damp or her heart to be racing...all she had to do was convince him to work with her, to give her a chance before grades were due, no matter what she had to do to get it. <br><br>She arrived at his office and knocked on the slightly open door. She didn't have an appointment, she hoped he had time to speak with her.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>07-03-2008, 20:11:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Even on this sunny Friday afternoon.. Ryan was hung over.&nbsp; The coffee on his desk would help with that, if he hadn't dosed it with a healthy shot of brandy.&nbsp; So the knock on the door, gentle as it was, made his head ache.&nbsp; &nbsp;"This job would be perfect, if it weren't for the students.. " he grumbled quietly, and got up from his desk.&nbsp; The shades in the office were drawn most of the way down, in an effort to keep the sun's brain-piercing rays from reaching his ever so sensitive eyes.&nbsp; So the room was in much more of a hazy gloom than the rest of the sunny wing.&nbsp; <br><br>Stepping over the piles of term papers and other assorted junk, he made his way to the door, and tugged it open in an irritated manner.&nbsp; The sun, shining in from the hallway, made him squint and hold up his hand.&nbsp; Someone was standing in the hallway.. a slim, sexy female form, shimmering in light.&nbsp; &nbsp;He grunted in pain as the light his his eyes, and blinked, adjusting.&nbsp; It couldn't be an angel, not with the life he'd led.&nbsp; And nobody even remotely associated with the faculty had a body as slim as the one he was seeing.&nbsp; <br><br>Finally, either because the sun went behind a cloud (as it did), or because his eyes adjusted (and they had... slightly), he could make out the features of the girl standing in the hallway.&nbsp; He knew the face, of course.. she was in his course.&nbsp; Showed up early every day, all chatty.. stayed late, hanging about afterwards as he tried to make his way to the door.&nbsp; Some of the other professors called her his lovesick puppy.. his very own jailbait.&nbsp; His favorite nickname for her was 'the groupie'.. but for the life of him, he couldn't remember her actual name.&nbsp; <br><br>"How can I help you.." he said, letting his words hang in the air. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>10-03-2008, 20:07:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She had been frozen in place when he spoke, suddenly losing all nerve and debating it the wisest choice would be to turn and run--when she suddenly found her voice. She was certain it would come out high pitched or even not at all, but she tried anyway. <br><br>"Amber...Amber Bowen?" She wasn't sure he was asking, but there it was. "I just had a few questions about end of term? If you have a minute...if not, I could make an appointment?" She mentally slapped herself for sounding like a fool, every statement becoming a question. She took a deep breath and smiled brightly. "I'm sorry for interrupting you like this, just thought it best to get it out of the way before it affects my grade too much..." She was still standing in the hallway like a fool, uncertain as to how to act right now. He obviously had much on his mind, if his posture and tone told her anything. <br><br>She shifted the bag hanging over her shoulder and across her chest, the buckle was beginning to dig into her ribcage; and subtly tried to peer behind him. Maybe he was already in a meeting. Her eyes went back to his face, and she smiled again, not half as insanely this time. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 16:06:21</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				His mind registered her voice as being nervous.. and melodic.&nbsp; The rest of his head, however, only heard the pounding of his head, and a low ringing noise as she spoke.&nbsp; Her name went in and out of his head, and he stepped back away from the door.&nbsp; "Come in.. please.&nbsp; Take a seat, and we'll talk over whatever it is that you need.." he mumbled.<br><br>As she entered the room, Ryan stood holding the door open, and watched her go by.&nbsp; He remembered her well from his class.. but he'd never seen her in a skirt before.&nbsp; The girl had nice, muscular legs.. and he smiled in appreciation.&nbsp; Maybe this meeting wouldn't be that bad after all.&nbsp; Because even though he had to speak to a student.. he could at least stare at her crossed legs, and who knew.. maybe he'd get to see something.&nbsp; You never knew with college students, these days.<br><br>Closing the door behind him, Ryan followed her to his desk, then brushed by her to get to his own seat.&nbsp; He noticed that she smelled wonderful as she passed him by.. like a lightly perfumed spring garden.&nbsp; His writer's eye opened in his mind, and as he sat, he was internally comparing her scent to various things.. he just couldn't help himself.&nbsp; Finally, he realized that he'd been sitting quietly for almost a minute, and smiled sheepisly.&nbsp; <br><br>"I'm sorry.. you were here to talk to me about something?" he said, pushing some papers across his desk.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 17:07:39</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She sat and glanced around. It was dark in there..and smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol. Maybe he was cleaning something...His voice brought her attention around. <br><br>"Oh, yes! Well," She blushed and looked down at the top of his desk, never directly at him. Nervous, she scooted to the edge of the chair, her skirt being pulled up higher on her thighs as she did so. She shifted a leg to cross them then thought better of it. She hated skirts, so awkward to wear! She hadn't worn hose...maybe she should have? She placed her dampening palms on her legs and rubbed, nervous habit, unknowingly calling attention to that area. Her eyes flicked up and rested on his neck, watched him swallow, riveted. She began to wonder what his skin tasted like there, and blinked. <br><br>"Coursework." The word was a jolting reminder to herself of why she was there. That was all it took, and she was refocused. <br>"Right, the last assignment, assignment<em>s</em> actually I thought were fairly straightforward. I took the notes you dictated, read the chapters you instructed, but still made only an average grade. And the notes you left on it...Perhaps I'm simply not understanding what you were looking for? See," She leaned forward further and placed her arms crossed on the edge of his desk, not realizing the move made her blouse gape where the few unbuttoned buttons were. The frilly, all too girly, pink (of all colors!) silk bit of nothing her roommate had insisted she wear peeked through the gap. <br><br>"I was hoping if you could maybe just give me another chance to redo it...I know it's an unusual request, but I'm scared my grade will suffer, and I can't...afford that." Her expression was pleading, slightly hopeful. "or is there some other sort of extra credit I can do? I know the term is almost over...but you know how hard I've been working!" She frowned and sat back, crossing her arms, her legs falling open the slightest bit. Her tone was bitter now. "or maybe you don't. Maybe I haven't been working nearly hard enough." She sighed, irritated now. "there has to be some way to pull this grade up. I'm willing to do whatever!"<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 18:08:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was impossible for him not to stare at her.&nbsp; Ryan had been blocked as a writer as of late.. he'd tried all genres, from simple descriptions of the weather, to itemized lists.. and nothing.&nbsp; On a whim, he'd spent the last week writing erotica, even though it wasn't his usual genre.. and he'd failed utterly.&nbsp; His writing, while passable.. didn't come off the page and sing.<br><br>But looking at this girl.. he was feeling a stirring.&nbsp; Not only in his pants, but in the centre of his inspiration as well.&nbsp; Everything about her.. her skirt, and the way it slid up her legs screamed her sexuality, but her nervous handwiping spoke volumes too.&nbsp; About an utterly different topic.&nbsp; She was a beautiful blend of mixed signals, from her slightly gaping blouse and short skirt.. to her prim words, and stiff demeanor.&nbsp; His fingers ached for a keyboard, as he wanted to capture everything about her.&nbsp; She inspired him.<br><br>And then her words began to bring him back to reality.&nbsp; "I generally don't allow students to redo their work.&nbsp; There is a certain amount of self editing that you must be doing on your own.. and over the term, you will naturally have to adapt and grow."&nbsp; he said sternly.&nbsp; "And I've never broached the subject of extra credit with a student before."&nbsp; Unable to help himself, his eyes flicked down to her gaping blouse, and lingered for a moment on the pink shimmer there that was dancing before his eyes in the dim light.&nbsp; He sighed, and looked away.. halfway up her skirt.&nbsp; <br><br>Blinking, he looked back to her face.. utterly unaware that he'd just ogled her after saying the words 'extra credit'.&nbsp; He sighed, and settled back in his chair.. unaware that his slacks had tented slightly from his ogling her.&nbsp; With the amount he had been drinking, he was feeling no pain today, and was not self aware at ALL.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 18:41:03</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her face fell, but she wasn't totally put off ..yet. His wording caught her. He was a writer, surely he understood the implications of word usage, had he truly meant to give her an out? Deeply concentrating on her argument, she took on her habitual pose, one knee bent, her foot on the chair edge with her arms wrapped around her leg. Oblivious that she was exposing herself and the matching scrap of lace panties she wore, which she swore must have been a size too small, she nevertheless did notice <em>his</em>....sudden arousal of interest. She almost swallowed her tongue, but shook it off as her overactive imagination. She lost track of her argument for a quick moment before remembering.<br><br>"Generally...you don't. Which means...you would, under certain circumstances." She grinned, pleased with that assumption. "So all we have to do is clarify what those circumstances might be. And you've never given extra credit work before?" She frowned slightly. "But again, you didn't say you wouldn't exactly...Would begging help?" She laughed at her pathetic attempt to sway him. Her eyes were drawn again to his lap. No, that was not her imagination...her roommate's words came back to her. This was her second try, if this didn't work...well..it's not like she wasn't attractive. And she had told herself that she would do anything...
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 20:37:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Ryan truly had no idea what he had said.. but he was all TOO aware of the sliver of pink cloth now visible between her poorly crossed legs.&nbsp; The strip of lace was thin.. it didn't even make contact with her legs at all.&nbsp; As she droned on about her grades, he stared with an open mouth, and stiffening prick.&nbsp; Blinking, he even imagined that he could see the soft lips of her mound through and around that beautiful scrap of cloth.&nbsp; He wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees and drink from her like a fountain.&nbsp; Blinking, he looked away.. he needed a muse, but one of his students?&nbsp; That might be inappropriate.<br><br>Hell.. WOULD be inappropriate.<br><br>Then, she wasn't talking anymore.. and even in his stupor, drunk on both his afternoon tipple and her young beauty, he knew that he was supposed to reply at this point.&nbsp; The only problem was, he'd spent so much time staring at her panties, that he had no clue what she'd said.. and if he pointed that out, she'd know that he was a drunken lech.&nbsp; So he did the same thing that he did at staff functions when the other professors droned on and on.. he faked it.&nbsp; "Well, I think you know what you should do.&nbsp; Don't you?"&nbsp; he said, and leaned back with his arms behind his head.&nbsp; He hoped that worked.... he needed another drink.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>11-03-2008, 21:45:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her mouth fell open. "Beg your pardon?" <br><br>She meant it as a last resort only! And what was he a psychic as well to read her thoughts like that? 'I know what you should do...', then his pose...leaning back like that as if just waiting for her to...service him. Is THAT what he thought it would take? She was...stunned for long moments.<br><br>Neither of them spoke, the silence turning awkward. She blinked again, and stared. Someone should say something. <br><br>She squeaked when she tried to speak. Just a small squeak, one she quickly covered with a clearing of her throat. "I'm not sure..." she cocked her head and looked puzzled. "Would that work? I mean, it's very unconventional, but I know it's been done...I just never thought...well, that I would be on the requested end..."<br><br>She looked longingly at the door, then back to him with a deep hopeless sigh. "You're not giving me much of a choice here. But I guess you have that right."<br><br>She stood and paused, trying to gain nerve, or to tell her to stop, <em>something</em>! She took a few steps around the desk, smoothing her skirt as she went. Next to him, she licked her lips thoughtfully, wondering how best to do this. With a slight shrug, she sank to her knees and looked at the floor as she raised her hand and rested it on his groin. She winced at the hard object below her hand, and quickly moved it to his zipper, pulling it down, the noise echoing in the room. <br><br>"I don't have tons of practice here, any particular way you want it done? Oh, guess I should take this off, in case it gets messy..." She began unbuttoning her blouse.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>12-03-2008, 14:05:16</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He saw her confusion, and had a moment of panic.&nbsp; What had she said, that she was having this extreme a reaction to his banal words?&nbsp; Blinking, he reviewed what he'd said.. no, nothing shocking there.. he'd just wanted her to make up her own mind, and turn the conversation back on her.&nbsp; It always worked with the professors!<br><br>But at this point.. to ask her what she was talking about would be to admit that he'd ignored her.&nbsp; And his reputation was at stake.&nbsp; Because if she complained that he'd been ignoring her, then the allegations about his drinking would come back up again.. and he was so close to getting his tenure.&nbsp; A scandal over his drinking was the LAST thing he needed right now.&nbsp; <br><br>So when she stood, he lowered his hands to the arms of his chair, thinking that she was going to go write something, and he sighed in relief.. a little too loudly.&nbsp; He certainly regretted not being able to see up her skirt anymore.. but maybe that was for the best.&nbsp; She WAS his student, after all.&nbsp; And then, in a blink, she was around his desk.. and kneeling.<br><br>Ryan opened his mouth to say something, to object.. but then her hand was in his crotch, instantly finding the hardness there, and pulling his zipper off.&nbsp; And then, he thought he understood.&nbsp; She was his groupie, his stalker.. is this what she had been after?&nbsp; Having sex with her literary hero?!?&nbsp; He opened his mouth to say something.. ANYTHING.. but words were failing him.&nbsp; It had been years since he'd been with a woman, much less one this beautiful.. he'd missed his own college days, those wild days, because he'd just been too young.<br><br>"Any way I want this done?&nbsp; I. I.. I.. god, you're beautiful.. "&nbsp; he stammered as she began to unbutton her blouse.&nbsp; Words had been failing Ryan as of late.. usually because he didn't have any.&nbsp; Right now, he had TOO many, and he just couldn't think.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>13-03-2008, 17:41:35</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Her fingers fumbled when he spoke, her gaze going to his for a moment, a faint question in her eyes before she blushed. She gave a short nervous laugh as she continued, pulling the sides of her blouse away and removing it completely. She folded it deliberately and placed it on the floor next to her. The motion of her arms made the straps of the lacy bra slip down her shoulders, her breasts pushed up and over the edge of the silk for a second. Her nipples were pale, and large, hardening already as clearly seen through the thin fabric. She reached up to pull her hair back, the realized she had not brought a hair band, and she looked embarrassed as she let her arms fall, her hair swinging against her face. She stared at his lap, and swallowed convulsively. <br><br>Scooting forward further between his legs, her hands rested on his thighs and began moving up slowly. When she reached the open flap, she parted it further, feeling the heat coming from within. Her hands shook the slightest bit as she slid one inside and met his skin. Her fingertips felt ultra sensitive, and she almost retreated in surprise, but steeled her nerves and delved deeper into his clothing. A throb under her hand, she closed her warm palm around it almost as a reflex. true she didn't have...alot of experience in this, but she knew the basics, and she knew if she stroked up...like that, yes, he would respond. She was not disappointed. Another movement, a light brushing of her fingertips down, underneath his thickness. The feeling made her dizzy, and she felt him harden even further. <br><br>She wanted to see, and gently pulled him from the confining fabric. Her eyes widened and her tongue flicked over her bottom lip as she stared. She released him, and traced one nail over his entire length, following the natural map there made by veins. She grasped the tip of him and felt the opening there, just a featherlight touch. She made a whimpering sound deep in her throat, and pulled herself closer as her head lowered over him, fully absorbed in what she was examining. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>14-03-2008, 18:13:46</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				He knew that he should be stopping this.&nbsp; That he just had to stop her.. it wasn't right.&nbsp; He was her professor.. it was improper.&nbsp; If she wanted to worship him after the term was over, perhaps.. but with every motion of her body, with every inch of perfect skin that she revealed, made him utterly unable to speak.&nbsp; <br><br>Much less think.<br><br>And it was all happening so quickly.. he was seeing a hint of her firm breasts over the film of her bra, and his heart was in her throat.&nbsp; Her hands.. her college girl hands, so wise and educated about how to handle a man, were in his pants.. making him gasp.&nbsp; He had already been hard, but the cool touch of her hand made him gasp.. and stole all thought.&nbsp; Now, there was only raw, red desire for this perfect vision between his knees.<br><br>Each time he tried to speak, she moved again.. her hand rising and falling, gliding on his skin.. it was like heaven.&nbsp; How did women learn these things, his mind gibbered... was there a course?&nbsp; Was it mandatory?<br><br>"Oh.. my god, oh.. please.. " he whispered, unsure if he was asking for release, or to be released.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CaliCo</strong> on <strong>17-03-2008, 14:13:38</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Amber smiled faintly as she rolled her thumb over the head of his cock. A drop of moisture appeared there, and she passed her thumb over again, using it to paint his skin with the slippery substance. She grasped his thickness more fully then, squeezing gently, fascinated by the throb of reaction that would happen each time. Her remaining hand slid up the same path, leg to thigh to warm place, and opened the flap of his clothes more fully. <br><br>She felt a dull ache between her own legs, her nipples hardening even further, beginning to be painful. Amber moved even closer still, half draped over his lap as her breasts pulled free of their confinement and scraped across his clothing. She inhaled sharply through her teeth as the abrasive texture sent electric currents down her stomach, then her skin slapped against his. She glanced down to see her hand wrapped around his reddening shaft, her pale globes engulfing both. The sight sent another trickle of moisture rolling down the inside of her thighs. <br><br>A flash of white as she grinned quickly, then her hair fell forward to brush against him as she lowered her head and parted her lips, wide enough only to make an audible pop as his cock penetrated her mouth. her tongue quickly met the invader, swirling around in tasting circles, little stabs to see the reaction, sucking lightly at the slit there for another drop or two of the thick clear liquid her thumb had found. Salty, slightly musky, not altogether pleasant but not repulsive either, his unique flavor made her dizzy once more. Her head dropped another inch as she played. She used her teeth to tickle his flesh, trying light pressure then harder scrapes, dipping lower to have more room. He would hit the roof of her mouth, she titled her head to take him deeper. She pushed him into her cheek so her tongue could flick over his length, pulling him back out to suck from him as from a straw. Her head lowered and lifted at inconsistent speeds and pressures, testing her own ability to hold him in her mouth fully, all of him. As she experimented her lips and hands and tongue kept moving, so many different ways and things she wanted to try. She had to remind herself to breathe, and pulled off of him to look up at his face, to see if he was enjoying as much as she was. Strands of thick saliva and pre-cum hung between her lips and his shaft as she blinked up at him, smiling slightly then going back to her task with a savoring sound. <br><br>The more fun she had the messier it seemed to get, and she repeatedly had to push her hair back from getting caught in the feast. Juices covered her hand, still stroking him. It pooled at the base of his cock, soaking the hair there and drawing her attention to lower areas. She pulled his clothes away from him as far as she could and placed her face there, using only her mouth to find and tongue the hard orbs. First one, then the other, then trying both at once, his cock smacking her cheek and getting tangled in her hair as she stayed fascinated. She laughed low to herself and let them go reluctantly, returning to the main course bobbing in front of her. She licked her lips, scooping up the wetness there, and opened wide over him, now experimenting to see if she could take him all in without hitting the sides of her mouth, teeth or tongue. She was enjoying her game and surprised herself when she found she could take most of him until he bumped against the back of her throat. She frowned around him and took a deep breath, then let her muscles relax, finding he slipped down more easily that way. Her tight passage there wanted to reject him, but she insisted, gagging only slightly as she found a rythm she preferred. It became hypnotic, the steady slide of in and out, and she found herself moaning, eyes closed as she breathed. her eyes flicked up only once as she felt her own body grow tense. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Making the Grade (Calico and Kalen)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Kalen</strong> on <strong>28-03-2008, 14:04:33</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Most writers have multiple personality disorder.&nbsp; A little voice inside their head, outside of their own thoughts, that offers them ideas.&nbsp; Some call it their muse.&nbsp; Others, the subconcious, or the id.&nbsp; As a teen, Ryan had called his own inner voice 'The Angel of Ideas'... as it used to leave him random gifts, seemingly hidden throughout his own thoughts.&nbsp; But in the last few years, that inner voice had been long silent.. and he'd wondered if that part of him had died.<br><br>But as Amber wrapped her small, soft hand around his shaft and started to spread his own stickiness around.. Ryan was hearing that voice again.&nbsp; Loudly.&nbsp; Louder than he'd ever heard it before.&nbsp; In the past, he'd had hints.. ideas.. but now, it was as if thoughts were being poured into his head.. liquid thoughts, connected to the girl on her knees before him as she stroked his long neglected nerve endings.&nbsp; Groaning, Ryan threw his head back, and moaned... part from the pleasure that she was giving him, and partially from the shock of the vivid ideas flowing through him.<br><br>His mind was being split into two.. the sensual part of him reveling in the brush of her nipples against his pantleg, and the logical gibbering at the influx of ideas.&nbsp; It was like he was hyperaware of everything.. every sensation, every thought.. and he was splitting the two off, that he may give each the attention that they deserved.<br><br>And then.. her mouth closed around his shaft, and his world went white with pleasure.&nbsp; A shudder ran through his body, and his good right hand buried itself in Amber's hair.. encouraging her.&nbsp; But his left.. it scrabbled across the desk, and found a pen and a legal pad.&nbsp; Even as his breathing grew short at the motion of her tongue across his length, he was writing.&nbsp; His left hand.. ever the dumber hand, even while typing.. was scribbling furiously across the pad, out of the range of sight of the young goddess kneeling between his legs.&nbsp; As she laved him, making sweet selfless love to his shaft, that inner voice gathered itself.. and sang to him, in an overpowering symphony of power.<br><br>Panting, he locked shocked eyes onto her face, enraptured by the twin gifts.. the writing, and her amazing attentions, and he locked eyes with her just as she blinked up at him.&nbsp; His face was full of joy, his eyes wide.. his mouth open, panting.. grinning madly at her.&nbsp; "My god.. so.. so amazing.. oh, please.. don't stop, you angel.. my angel.. " he murmured.. babbling out to both the voice in his head, and the young goddess of gobbling between his knees.&nbsp; His hand tangled in her hair, not pulling, but encouraging her as she experimented with his balls, and with throating him.. he let his head loll back, and softly moaned as he could feel his balls begin to swell.<br><br>And his left hand just kept writing.. and writing.. and writing.. in a hand not even his own.
			</dd>
		</dl>
		<div id="footer" class="smalltext">
			
			<span class="smalltext" style="display: inline; visibility: visible; font-family: Verdana, Arial, sans-serif;"><a href="https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?action=credits" title="Simple Machines Forum" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF 2.0.19</a> |
 <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org/about/smf/license.php" title="License" target="_blank" class="new_win">SMF © 2021</a>, <a href="https://www.simplemachines.org" title="Simple Machines" target="_blank" class="new_win">Simple Machines</a>
			</span>
		</div>