Hazelnut Latte

It hit me, like a dick-slap right across the face: I was graduating.

The thought induced a wave of nausea so powerful I had to sit down. The fact that I’d been up all night, playing in chatrooms and compulsively surfing porn didn’t help none. Too much caffeine, too much masturbation, not nearly enough sleep. I felt a little sick to my stomach, a pale shade of green, avocado or maybe artichoke. Marjorie didn’t approve of internet porn, but I’m not Marjorie.

And my cunt was sore and my clit was painfully tender. A consequence of edging all night long to nasty internet porn and horny dudes on sketchy websites. Bad habit.

This was Graduation with a capital G, the real deal, not high school or undergrad, but mother fucking graduate school. Fuck. Now what?

Now what indeed? My girlfriend was moving to Hawaii to start her internship. In approximately one week, I’d get an official piece of paper that designated me a bon-a-fide artist. And shortly thereafter, the student loan payments would start coming due.

I needed coffee like baby needed tit. I sucked that hot black liquid up like a webslut guzzling come from an oversized cock. I had edged far too long, and I was in desperate need of release.

Marjorie had gotten home late last night. The interview had been a great success. In fact she was going to fly out again tomorrow morning to start her internship on the Big Island. Everything was happening so fast, she said, it was like skiing an avalanche. For me, it felt more like a free fall. I only hoped I’d packed a parachute.

Marjorie was awake. She looked cute in her red polka dot pajamas, with her tousled sleepy-head hair and no make-up.

Things were already weird between us, I could tell. The drive home from the airport had felt wooden, scripted, like a bad TV show. Our thing was coming to an end, and it had only just started. When we got back to my place, she’d been too tired for sex. Too tired for sex! It was hard for me to imagine, but Marjorie was never the sexual creature that I am.

The sex we had was nice, and the orgasms had been plentiful, but sex wasn’t really the basis of our relationship, the way it had been with all my previous lovers. That probably would have turned into a problem if we had stayed together.

“Do you have time for a little action before seminar?” Marjorie asked me over her hot chai.

I didn’t, not really.

“Sure,” I grinned, “Let’s go back to bed!”

“Let’s not,” said Marjorie, “Let’s stay right here!”

That was rather unlike Marjorie, but I wasn’t about to argue. We sort of fell into each other’s arms, fiercely kissing, tumbled towards the couch, and missed, half falling onto the floor. My hands were already inside her shirt, feeling up her big tits, much larger than mine, pinching and pulling on her nipples, a tad harder than I knew she liked, making them grow and stiffen like little cocks.

“Mmmm,” she arched her back, for once not complaining that I was being too rough. “I want you…” The words just made my raw and irritated pussy even wetter. “Could I ask you a favor…?”

I stopped molesting her tits for a moment and held my breath. Marjorie never asked for sexual favors.

“Could we make a sex tape… you know, to remember each other by?”

I’d made sexy videos before – of me stripping and touching myself – for a couple different girls, and one exceedingly lucky guy. I’d never made an actual SEX tape, filming myself getting it on with another person, but I’d always wanted to. I never imagined that Marjorie might agree to agree to such a thing, and here she was asking me!

We paused for a moment while I set up my cell phone on the coffee table, propped up against a short stack of art history books, pointing at my ratty old red couch. It was difficult to get the angle set up just right because Marjorie kept playing with my inner thighs and butt through my pajama pants in the most distracting sort of way.

I finally got the phone camera set up right, and pressed RECORD, and Marjorie was all over me, pulling me with her onto the couch, peeling off my pajama tops and showering me with butterfly kisses all over my face and neck and tits.

I wasted no time getting her shirt off, freeing up her gorgeous big breasts, like a pair of ripe honeydew melons. They totally made me understand guys’ fascination with big tits. They are so much fun to play with!

She was all over me, just as much as I was all over her. Marjorie was rarely at all aggressively sexual, something had gotten into her. Maybe it was the fact that we were parting, or maybe it was the camera, but she was one horny little weasel this morning!

Marjorie had my pajama bottoms tugged down around my knees, but I wanted to taste her, so I shoved her back down on the couch and got my head down between her legs.

I sort of tried to leave a clear shot for the camera, but mostly the phone captured the back of my head: I was much more interested in eating out her pussy then in putting on a show.

Marjorie didn’t shave, not at all, which didn’t bother me in the slightest, except for the odd stray hair that got stuck between my teeth or in the back of my throat. I went for her pink little clit as usual, slurping up and down and all around, the way she liked it.

“I want to feel you inside me” Marjorie pushed my head away. “I want you to finger my pussy.”

Even the word “pussy’ was totally unlike her, not at all part of her regular vocabulary. I slipped a finger, and then two inside her cunt. She was sopping wet and searingly hot.

“Fuck me, fuck my pussy!”

I obliged, with gusto, sliding my fingers in and out of her slippery hole, pressing hard against the firm texture of her g-spot. Her pussy made appreciative slurping sounds as I finger-fucked her, her legs splayed wide, her head thrown back in a mask of ecstasy. Her orgasm gave me a vicarious rush of power and pleasure.

She covered me with kisses, wet, hurried, horny kisses all over my tits, neck, face, and lips. She flipped me over onto my back, tugged my pajama bottoms the rest of the way off, and dove down between my legs like a starving girl at a pie-eating contest.

It was as I had feared: after my night of solo debauchery, my poor lady bits were just too sensitive for that kind of attention. Well, the actual truth is that it wasn’t just my tender pussy. The truth is I was feeling extra horny, extra kinky and randy, and I knew that this was probably going to be my last chance for the foreseeable future. I pushed her head away.

“Hold on,” I said, “There’s something I want to try.”

I sprinted for the bedroom, grabbed my toy box from under the bed, and came back with my hands full. Marjorie had never seen the contents of my toy box because, as she had told me several times before, she was ‘not into toys’.

I pulled out my thick black dildo. Normally, I would be embarrassed as hell to be showing Marjorie something that, but I was feeling completely shameless. Lust does that to me sometimes.

“I want you to fuck me with this,” I told Marjorie. And the camera. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

Anal play hadn’t been part of our vocabulary at all. Whenever I went to tickle Marjorie’s cute little asshole while I was going down on her, she would squirm away from me. I fully expected her to argue, but all she said was “Ok, then turn over.”

I handed her the dildo and a bottle of lube, and got down on my hands and knees, presenting my backside toward the phone on the coffee table. She spread my butt cheeks and started touching me EXACTLY where I wanted to be touched. I really wanted her to use her tongue too, to rim my horny little asshole, but that was just wishful thinking.  Nevertheless, her fingers felt delightful up and down my ass crack, and when she started touching my asshole, it felt delicious!

She dribbled some cool lube on my anus, and nudged the tip of her finger inside. “Is that what you want, Nasty Girl? You want me to fuck that little hole with this big fat cock?”

Oh Yes, Oh Yes I did! I arched my back and wiggled my butt in what I hoped was a seductive way.

Marjorie slapped me on the ass, and then pressed the dildo against my asshole. I pressed back. It wasn’t easy, but slowly and inexorably, it slid in, past my tight anus and up my ass. It felt like heaven.

When the dildo was firmly lodged up my butt, Marjorie climbed up on top of me, pressing her large breasts against my shoulder blades. Clasping the dildo between her thighs, she started humping me with it. It felt incredibly erotic, getting butt-fucked by this beautiful PhD candidate. She reached under and just cupped my swollen wet vulva with her palm, and that was just enough. Humping back against her, meeting every thrust of her hips with a thrust of my own, the fat cock buried deep in my asshole, I exploded, all last night’s pent-up sexual energy boiling over and spilling out like a pressure cooker that has been left on high heat too long. I came, thrashing and swearing, grinding back against my soon to be ex-girlfriend, in one of the longest, most intense orgasms of my life.

When we were done, things were weird again right away. Thank heavens there was no poo smeared on the dildo when I extracted it from my butt. Marjorie got dressed in a hurry, declined my offer of the shower, saying something about how I had to get to my lecture (I was chronically late). Then she made a hasty exit, leaving me naked, sticky, and discombobulated, with a buzzing tender pussy and asshole and a sore, swollen clit.

Marjorie and I spoke a few more times after that, but that morning was effectively the end of our relationship. Full stop. I believe she’s a full professor now, at the university in Hawaii. I never did send her our sex tape, though I have whacked off to it many many times.

I cleaned up the parts of me that most needed cleaning, got dressed, ditched seminar, and went downstairs to the Crazy Lady Coffee shop, where I ordered a large hazelnut latte. I needed it.

That day was the first day of the rest of my life.



















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