Story: Staged Kisses

This short story is for the Smut for Good: Snog for Sommer campaign. 

Sommer Marsden is a fantastically talented erotic romance author, Check out her blog, pick up a book or three, you won’t regret it! Not only is she very talented she’s an all-round lovely lady. Anyone who’s had the pleasure to interact with her will tell you.

At the moment Sommer’s family are going through a really challenging time, her husband is fighting pancreatic cancer and it is putting a strain on them in many ways. What I’m hoping we can do with our Snog for Sommer is to help take a little of the financial strain off their shoulders. Donations are gratefully accepted at the A Snog For Sommer page

There was always sniggering; sly cackling from immature students who supposed my class was an easy route to a University degree. The misguided embarrassment of the subject matter triggered many juvenile oafs into bouts of puerile giggling, and the posters on the walls of my lecture theatre were a source of constant amusement.

It was depressing.

But as Professor of Sexology, it was my job to wheedle out the inappropriate students; to remove the immature morons from my class, and then inspire the rest to academic greatness. The first lesson was essential.

This year I had help from Charlotte; she’s a gorgeous, shapely brunette with a cute button nose and a sharp, keen mind. We’d met on her Freshers’ Week in a drunken capacity; she wasn’t my student when we first fucked but she had enrolled before our second evening of lustful exploration.

An adventurous spirit lay beneath her innocent appearance. She was no shy, timid creature but a powerful woman in tune with her sexuality.

She said yes to my idea immediately. Her exhibitionism rampant as she agreed to my crazy, scheming plot. And so, with the first lesson upon me, my new student stood waiting, in the wings of the stage as I called for silence in the lecture theatre; her eyes peeking from behind the floor-length curtain. I saw the velvet fabric billow, bulging around her naked frame.

I loved the shifting nervousness in the room. What did my students expect? They fidgeted impatiently and expectantly. Waiting. Watching. Ready for my lesson and unsure what I would demand of them.

“Observe,” I shouted and clicked my fingers.

It was her cue; Charlotte’s naked appearance caused gasps and jeers; giggling laughter. I’d expected that, but my eyes were transfixed on the swinging hips of the young lady, seductively moving barefoot towards me.

Her eyes focused on me: steely firm with a quivering hint of vulnerability. Seductive. Strong. Sexy. Her lips pouted slightly; a small smile, a knowing grin. She knew what would happen. Her breasts bobbed slightly as she strode: the start of her tempting curves captivating my attention across her silky smooth skin.

Beautiful to look at, so sensual to touch. She exhaled as my hands touched her soft flesh and pulled her into me, cocking my head and planting the first kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes: so peaceful, so erotic.

Her hands grasped my waist as I gently kneaded her buttocks. My tongue swirled against hers. I tasted strawberry moose on her lips; sweet and fruity, just like her. She gave a little nasal whimper as we kissed, holding each other tightly as our tongues explored the mouths of each other.

Sheer heaven. Instinctively my hand wandered, sliding between her legs to press against her moistening crotch. Her lust doubled, she writhed. I was touching her intimately in front of a room of hundreds of her fellow students. I had forgotten about them. In the heat of the moment, it felt too natural and I expected her to pull her body from my grip but she didn’t.

Her hips pressed down on my exploring fingers, her tongue worked my mouth and her hands grasped the back of my body to pull me further and deeper into her chest. She wanted it more and more: wildly groaning, sighing and squealing.

She pulled her lips away: panting and dirtily muttering soft murmurings of excitement as my finger swirled against her arousal. I laid her on her back, lying her onto a wooden table; the eyes of my students transfixed by the lewdness on display. Her legs parted easily as I knelt between them; her gaze shorn with relief as my tongue swirled over her clit.

Her delicious lust filled my nostrils; I could sense the arousal in her slippery loins as my tongue worked gently over her cunt; drawing symbols on her clit that caused her legs to quiver, her pussy to water and the girl to blaspheme.

Charlotte’s body bucked and rocked; my cock rigid and desperate to thrust into the fiery soubrette submitting to my whims. Every slash of my tongue had her squealing, mounting pressure building within.

And then she released it, a delicious flow of heat pulsing through her trembling loins as her cries echoed in the lecture theatre. Her climax came, and kept coming; wave after wave of ecstasy swept through her clammy body as her orgasms relentlessly pounded the young lady.

My lips pressed against her cunt, kissing her sopping hole before I moved my kisses to her inner thigh, watching her dreamy expression over her young mounds.

Slowly, her breathing gently returned to normal. I stood up and pulled her to her feet; her hair ragged and her eyes watery. A smack on her arse as she left my presence promised her more in my office later. She seductively looked over her shoulder as she slinked away from me; she’d be there.

“I want an essay on my desk by tomorrow of what you saw today,” I demanded as the naked woman blew me a kiss from the side of the stage. “No more than 500 words.” And that was it: my lecture was a mere twenty words; I’d said barely nothing before I left. But I showed them something amazing.

However, for many of the students, they would write about a dirty old man eating out a hot woman, akin to a pornographic film plot, and I would fail them. They were not welcome on my course. They had no soul and could not hope to sensibly conduct research to explore human sexual behaviour if they didn’t understand it.

But for some, and the students I wanted, they saw tender osculations that stirred the flames of passion, drawing her libido to the surface as two tongues intertwined to create a delicious expression of human sexuality and lust. They saw a celebration of two people, coming together to stir the young minx into a passionate fervour and bring her to a peak of pleasure. And those students would pass the test I’d set.

Although, obviously, Charlotte would be only one with an “A.”

There are currently in excess of another 65 erotic stories at the Snog for Sommer page.

Featured image from here and used under a CC-license.


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