Miriam – the sex instructor! (part 15)

30.09.2012 | By: Miriam

Brian is angry with Miriam and the whole world. Miriam knows how to ease the tension with drastic measures.

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Brian hasn’t called me in a long time to arrange for some tutoring. Fine by me, I thought to myself, but then his mother called me.

“I don’t know what’s come over our Brian,” she complained. “But if you don’t tutor him, he won’t pass his final exam.”

I wasn’t sure that was really the case, but I agree after the persuasion of his worried mother.

Brian’s angelic sister opens the door. She chats with me pleasantly and offers to make us some ice coffee. I knock on Brian’s door and enter. He greets me coldly, but he isn’t able to completely cover up the excitement in his voice. I pretend I didn’t hear it, I sit on a chair and start looking at the practice sheet we did the last time I was here.

Brian is looking through the window persistently. I feel the warmth coming from his angry and excited body. I know he can smell my gentle perfume and that he has to try hard to ignore it.

He nevertheless starts tackling his word formation exercises and is persistent, but he doesn’t want to ask me anything. His sister brings us ice coffee in big glasses in a while, in which there is a great amount of ice cream and whipped cream. I invite her to join us, but she stays only for a few minutes and chats with me out of sheer politeness. Then there’s silence between me and Brian. After a while I ask him: “Would you like another tutor? I can recommend one.”

He shakes his head and licks cream off a long spoon without even looking at me.

“What’s troubling you,” I ask as unobtrusively as I can. He still won’t look at me, so I grab his clean-shaven chin and pull his face towards me. His eyes follow slowly and when they meet mine, he can’t hide his angry pain. He looks away and his eyes stop on that familiar notebook. I grab it, Brian tries to tear it away, but I establish my natural authority, which is supported by my shoes with metal heels placed in the direct vicinity of his genitals.

I start reading aloud as: “I told my girlfriend about the tutor. She couldn’t accept it, so she left. It’s strange without her. I don’t know if I miss her. I miss having intercourse. I always jerk off before going to bed. I’m imagining Miriam taking my cock between her breasts and asking me all horny and sweaty: 'Do you like it?' Oh, how I like it. I’m imagining her hot silky pussy. She doesn’t want to use her own fingers on it, but is waiting for mine...”

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I’m even more excited than I could imagine by someone writing about me in this way. Reading this aloud is a special experience. When I move over in my chair, the seam of my tight jeans rubs against my erect clitoris. The pleasant sensations wash over me from my toes to my nipples. I look at Brian. His face is flushed and he’s looking through the window and past me stubbornly.

“Who knows how Miriam masturbates? Only with her fingers or with a vibrator? Does she use something even more exotic? Is she aware that her nipples become erected in the draft and that they are clearly visible?”

“Of course she’s aware. That’s why she wears those thin bras. Her nipples also become hard when she’s aroused,” I say quietly. “Just like now.” Brian grabs his ice coffee with effort and puts a large spoonful of ice cream into his dry mouth. A thick drop slides down his chin and drips onto his collarbone, which is revealed by his thin T-shirt with a V-shaped neckline.

I can’t fight the impulse. I bend down and lick the ice cream off his smooth tanned skin slowly. I also lick his chin, but I don’t continue on to the open and anxious lips. I read on.

“I want to get her to an orgasm by caressing her beautiful tits and nibbling her nipples. Even if she wouldn’t come, I certainly would. I want to watch her writhing under my palms, which are working on the soft and sensitive skin oh her tits. I want to see her lift her pussy towards me as I squeeze her nipples.”

There’s a giant bulge of an erection near my shoe. I get rid of the shoe and slide over his bulge with my naked foot. Brian grabs my foot and carries it towards his mouth. He kisses my toes and kneads my foot.

“I have to have her when she’s not fresh from the shower. I want to know what the natural smell of her cunt is like. I want to bathe in that smell and wear it around town like a trophy.”

“I’ll read on,” he says quietly and takes the diary out of my sweaty hands.

“I want to fuck her so long and deep that she’ll still feel me the next day. I want her crotch to hurt her from my banging and then I want to heal it with my saliva. I want her to beg for more, even though she can’t take it any longer. I want to find some crazy thing which turns her on, something special that even she doesn’t know she likes. I want to taste every drop of her.” He stops then and looks me in the eyes. Decisively.

“Are you a poet,” I ask him half jokingly and half seriously, but I’m definitely totally aroused and I start unbuttoning my shirt.