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I walked into the girl’s locker room without a thought. At least not any apprehensive one. It was only my girls in there, after all. And any girls who want to belong to me.
The gushing of showers confirmed I’d timed things well. The thought of at least eight girls soaping up, wondering what I’d do to them, was enough to begin getting hard already. You’d think I’d become a little less excitable over time, given the position I’m in. But not yet.
You see, I live in a sorority. In fact, I founded it. With the help of one naughty girl who seems to think it’s her life’s mission to keep me satisfied. In all sorts of perverted ways. With a list of 15 lovers desperate to please me. Plus her, of course.
But that’s the end of my story. The beginning is a bit sad.
It happened just when we thought we had it all. A big house in the Bayou. A successful business set to launch. Our first long-term home after years of moving around. A career for each of us in an industry we were passionate about.
But now she’s dead. Dead to me anyway. That’s the best way to deal with these things.
It’s because I’m not a Korean family doctor, you see? The family practice needed to continue after five generations. And it had to be in the family. Her dad refused to sell to someone he didn’t know. Something about leaving a lifetime’s worth of patients to the unknown.
Three daughters’ worth hadn’t produced a medical heir to follow in his footsteps. So a doctor husband had to be found. And they found one. (Not me.)
His terms? The best daughter. My fiancé. My ex, anyway.
The rest, as they say, is history. My history – the one you’re reading. The good news is that everything else to follow is good news. But first, more of a background.
Our house… No, the house was a rundown old manor in the Florida Everglades. Or something like that. The real estate agent told us all sorts to try and shift the place. Being foreigners, we lapped it up. After all, we were only going to sell on the story to tourists. Airbnb at first – easy to get started. Then perhaps a proper BnB or hotel.
The target market was Korean tourists. They’re very particular. And they’ll heavily favour a place run by a Korean lady. Especially if it was renovated by one. I’ll spare you the details there. I still don’t understand some of them. But the place was stunning when we were finished with it.
The house has a classic old-school looking façade. A Southern Belle, everyone calls it. I always wanted to install some sort of church bell to make it a pun. There’s lots of white and grey wooden panelling. A big veranda all the way around. Kind of spooking looking in the right mist.
A total of 16 bedrooms on two levels arranged in two wings go back from either side of the house. These were designed for the guests. (8 is a lucky number in Asia, so it had to be 8, 16 or 24…) All rooms were en-suites with modern fit outs, but still true to the Southern Style. These days, the girls of the sorority live there, in accommodation far plusher than anyone else can offer students.
I live in the top floor of the main house with a rather large home office now it’s just me in there. Most of the time, anyway. I have to check underneath my desk before sitting down in case someone is waiting for me down there, asking to be punished for some sort of sorority misdemeanour. Or to do penance as I instructed them to. More on that in another chapter.
The highlight of the house is the approach. The plot is at the corner of a small river and a creek. Throw in the swampy bits out the back and you pretty much have an island. Everything is swept by those sad old trees. Especially the boathouse – originally a rotting old shed on stilts in the water. These days it plays an important role in the initiation ceremony for new sorority sisters. More on that later too.
At the time we renovated the house to be Korean-proof, luck seemed on our side. Just after we purchased the place, the town rebuilt the bridge over the river. And we re-built the bridge over the creek to handle the busses that Korean tourists inevitably show up in. Between the two, we went from remote to accessible. The property value surged.
Then Florida State University added a campus on the other side of the town. That’s why they upgraded the bridge over the river, the real estate agent told us afterwards. The new campus would be home to a list of majors, but the important one for this story is Arts and Sports Science. That was my opening to being happy. Very happy.
You see, FSU has a circus program. “One of two collegiate circuses in the USA” their website says. And I’ve been a part time circus instructor and performer most of my life. Instructor more than performer. Those that can’t do, teach. It was only supposed to be a hobby, so I don’t live with any disappointment or anything.
Anyway, FSU got me involved in their circus side of things. Thanks to an actual career in finance and an academic canlı bahis şirketleri stint, I had the sort of credibility that your typical circus freak doesn’t, even if he’s better than me at everything circus related. The job allowed me to continue what I expected to miss most in my new home – flying trapeze.
With my fiancé gone, I had absolutely no interest in running an Airbnb for Korean guests. I put the place up for sale. You can imagine the level of interest…none.
But the semester began and kept me busy. And that’s where this story becomes worth reading. But first, back to the girl’s locker room …
I walked in to find my personal favourite sorority sister wearing only her sports bra. Hardly a surprise given the challenge taking off her sports bra presented. Drew’s tight pale ass and wide hips were facing me. Her strawberry blonde hair had been released from its binds and fell a long way down her back. Her elbows reached above her as her fingers tried to grasp underneath the heavy-duty bra.
“Good luck, with those tits,” I thought to myself. Being a gentleman, I thought I better help out. She looked rather vulnerable wriggling around in that position.
I silently took off my FSU uniform shorts, singlet and underwear and came up behind her as she struggled away. My quiet approach was hidden by the other girls giggling away and chatting in the showers close by.
“Let me help you with that,” I whispered in her ear as my fingers brushed up her sides from her hips towards her enormous boobs. My rapidly growing erection poked her in the ass far harder than I intended to. I’m not sure which of the two surprises made her jump more. She gave a little scream, which turned into delight.
She quickly recovered to arch her back and press her ass into my groin. My hands reached her huge boobs at the same time, cupping squeezing and rubbing under and through the bra, still half on. “Thanks, you’re my hero,” she said cheekily.
My girls know they get punished for cheeky comments. It’s why they do it in the first place. I gave Drew a sharp smack on her fine bum, making it shake. But only once, like a toned and shapely bum should. The shower talk had gone quiet, but now we both heard a giggle as the smack echoed.
Actually getting Drew out of the sports bra turned out to be less than sensual. Poor girl. Still, her struggle is my gain. She raised her arms and I tugged upwards to release her squashed boobs. The bra came up, unwillingly. Her sideboob multiplied from my vantage point behind her slim back as her tits bounced free at last. She turned to face me and I was rewarded with the sight of those enormous perky orbs swaging, wobbling, bouncing and shaking all over as she dropped the bra onto the bench.
Drew’s boobs deserve their own paragraph. They’re very perky thanks to their nubile age, pale but freckleless. Their hard pink nipples are in perfect proportion and face forwards from the very centre of each boob. More than anything, they are a full shape – they extend an extraordinary distance from her chest in a perfect curve. The gap between them seems to mould however you want it to. Sometimes it’s a deep stuffy cleavage in the right dress, or enormous side boob when she’s lying on her front in the sun. She can turn them into ridiculous bulging mounds in a bra that always seems too small for her. Or create a deep cavern for you to enjoy putting yourself in between after you take the bra off – whatever part of you you want to immerse in bliss. Sometimes they’re just my pillow while another sorority girl entertains me, or while I have a bath…usually with another sorority girl entertaining me.
Even today, I can’t help but launch my face in between them for at least a small bit of fun each time I see them. The girl’s locker room was no exception. I squeezed, licked and sucked, squishing them all over my face. She pulled my head deeper into her cleavage and rubbed her boobs around my head. “Do you like my big boobs? They missed you.”
Once I re-emerged from her cleavage, Drew gave me a smile and said thanks for the bra help with a long deep kiss. Not many girls thank you for helping take off their bra. Then again not many face such a challenge.
“Do you want so see the others?” she asked me with a smile. “They’re all soapy and wet.” Her hand dropped to lead me by my full erection into the shower, and to the seven other waiting girls.
Life’s good when you found a sorority. Not that it was easy…
Ch 1 – Meeting Melissa
My first day back at a university began with a bang. Flying trapeze artists are popular with girls. And girls in small town Florida seem especially susceptible.
Melissa is my course coordinator. I do the teaching with some help from other professors for the theory side. She does the admin for a bunch of courses, including my circus ones. And she does it very well. The problem is, she has no concept of personal space. And when I say problem, I mean “problem”.
If canlı kaçak iddaa you ask her a question, she stands uncomfortably close to you. Not just me, mind you, everyone. She’s also tiny, with a devastatingly cute face. And those stereotypical academic glasses that a pornstar would wear for the first 30 seconds.
She welcomed me onto campus with a stunning smile, clutching a clipboard to her blouse. It’s hot in Florida, so a lot of buttons were undone. And her blouse did that bulging thing. The one where the inside side of the blouse bulges inwards, while the outside side bulges outward. It creates a gap that makes every man happy.
For Melissa, it revealed a boring black bra, and not much in it. But at least that helped to keep my eyes on her cute little face. Until she turned around. Then I ogled as her suit pants clutched her disproportionate bubble but tighter than she held onto her clipboard in that first shy interaction. I couldn’t help walking behind her instead of next to her.
She asked all the usual questions girls do. “Are you really a trapeze artist?” “Can you do a flip?” And I made all the usual jokes about tights and hanging upside down too long. She promised to come and “fly” one day, as we say it.
In her small office we walked through the paperwork about the course, which we’d put together by correspondence already. She made me sign a contract with all the usual staff requirements. I was spellbound by her nerdy but not squeaky voice and her charming smile. And by that bulging blouse when she leaned forward. God knows what I signed.
She stood up to draw a diagram of how the various professors would be working together in each course. I just stared at her tight little bulging bubble but, wiggling away in front of me. I leaned forward and pushed my forearm into my erection to add a little sensation to the sight. Then she went onto tiptoes to make up for her height as the diagram got bigger. Everything went pert and into that trademark heart shape of a girl thrusting while she’s on top of you. It made me sweat as I pressed down on my erection harder.
It was all over too soon. We stood up to go and inspect the flying trapeze rig, after I delayed by asking stupid questions until I had recovered from dreaming about her ass. With one of her hands on the door, I asked her about whether I could review the theory material proposed by the other professors. Part of the course would include the financial management of circus arts businesses and a circus professional’s career. Both are something of a doomed endeavour. I happen to be into business and finance for my proper career, so I was curious.
Melissa leaned in close to look at my course outline sheet which I had pointed at. This is where her lack of awareness for personal space comes into it. Her shoulder practically touched my chest. Then she looked up at me with her cute face, sexy glasses and very kissable lips. Not more than inches from my face.
She didn’t seem to notice the tension of the situation. But she certainly noticed how tense I was after all my staring and rubbing. With her so close, I stared at her lips and gave a sharp exhale. I had to try hard not to squeeze my returning erection against her to get some relief. A grin crossed here face for a moment. Then her demure demeanour returned with the words, “I forgot to tell you. There are rules about professors sleeping with students. But none for course coordinators.”
That was enough for me. We kissed, gently at first. She seemed so tiny, so fragile. But then she whispered in my ear, “I’ve never fucked a flying trapeze artist. Can you do it quietly? People are preparing for O-week next door”. I didn’t even think of the obvious orgasm week puns. And she didn’t wait for a response.
Her hand went running down the front of my shorts, grinding just where my forearm had minutes before. She squeezed the base of my cock and her fingernail traced the head, already leaking precum. Something in her eyes told me she knew very well what she had been doing to me for the last hour. What her glasses reminded me of. The way her blouse was bulging. How much attention I’d paid her whiteboard diagram.
The kissing didn’t last long. Something about an imminent fucking in a university office with paper thin walls and the risk of discovery makes you rush. It makes for quite a thrill though. First she took off my shirt, rubbing my muscles and biting my arms. Then her shirt, revealing the simple black bra I’d seen half of through the gap in her blouse already. I squeezed her little cups and she let out her first moan.
Then she locked eyes and went to her knees, kissing all the way down. My shorts and underwear came off together and she didn’t miss a beat. As I bobbed up, my tip went straight into her mouth. Impressive. Like I said, we were rushing. Her hand disappeared to undo her suit pants. Then strait onto her clit. Another moan, vibrating right up my cock.
Melissa gave a few headbobs and I was the one struggling canlı kaçak bahis to keep quiet. Deeper each time until she visibly struggled. Then the tip of her tongue explored my cock and her lips tightened as my head re-emerged from her mouth. Without warning, she jumped up, stepped out of her pants, spun around and planted her torso onto the desk, chest down. Her bubble but remerged before me once more, this time clad in the tightest red thong I could imagine. It’s probably the only underwear that doesn’t show up on her bubble but through those suit paints. I couldn’t help but risk a bite on one cheek and a slap on the other. She yelped, but controlled the volume.
In a completely uncharacteristic display of a nerdy, demure office worker, her ankles flexed up and down and her ass swayed side to side to entice me to fuck her. “Please,” she begged. I drew down her thong, slowly, savouring it. One day I’ll video the site. A cute, pale little anus between completely out of proportion cheeks, round from every angle and firm. Then a hairless pussy with luscious perfectly symmetrical lips. Sopping wet from her own teasing. But had she fingered herself in preparation too?
I decided to find out the hard way and stuck my raging cock straight in. She was tight. She yelped again, but quieter than last time. Then exhaled a moan as I pushed deeper. I was definitely the first thing in her today. But I like it that way when a girl is desperate enough. You don’t need to bother with fingers to moisten things up. It’s so tight, a great feeling.
I began to thrust softly, thinking about the noise and realising this was not the way to start my new career. Fucking the admin girl within hours of getting on campus. But that pussy was warm, wet and tight. So I thrusted away slowly and quietly. And Melissa bit her fist to keep down her own noise.
After a minute of enjoying the sensation of her around my cock, I decided I wanted to see those cute little titties. Staring at them in her blouse all afternoon and then her bra had made me mad with lust. I wanted to suck on her nipples. To pinch them hard. So I went hands free on the fucking and undid her bra. No attempts at the fancy one hand manoeuvre, just a tug and unclip. The bra came off, revealing a tiny bit of pale sideboob squished onto her desk. My hands went straight in between.
I could feel her nipples were standing to attention, waiting to be pinched. But that generated a moan too loud to risk. So I cupped and squeezed her little titties and used them as a grip for my thrusting. The squeezing, kneading and tugging lifted her off the desk, impaled on my cock. All the way in. My thrusting grew harder, making the desk shake. We were getting too loud.
She tapped my thighs to stop and I backed away, leaving her on the desk. She turned to reveal those adorable little titties and her shaven beautiful pussy either side of a taught, flat stomach. Perfect body for a static trapeze act, I couldn’t help thinking. She smiled at me as she pushed me backwards onto her chair. And then mounted me on it. My cock slipped in at the exact moment we kissed thanks to her taking charge of its direction.
Obviously this was a more comfortable depth for her small body than my thrusting had provided. She was far more relaxed and bounced away in silent ecstasy. Her hips flexed fast to earn the cowboy position’s name. I kept my hands on her bubble but, softly spanking when she slowed. I held her tight and her right hand dropped from my shoulder to her clit.
I like a girl who ensures she cums. And Melissa came. Hard. Her head practically went the same shade of purple as mine would’ve been inside her. She stopped breathing and moving, and clutched onto me. A few more short, sharp thrusts. I felt her fingernails draw down my back. Then she exhaled a shudder and stopped fucking me. “Thank you Associate Professor,” she said quietly. “Now where would you like to cum?” Her eyes told me I could have whatever I wanted.
“I still haven’t sucked your cute little titties,” I replied, lifting her back onto the desk without dropping out. Then I went down to suck on her nipples while my cock flopped out. She moaned loud at the sensation – it was too much stimulation so soon after her orgasm. “We have to hurry up,” she said. “How do you want me?”
I began to rub myself at the sight of her body on the desk. Her cute little hairless pussy seemed a great place to cum onto. Or her little titties. Perhaps I’d wander around her desk and cum on her face and glasses?
No, if we’re going to fuck in the office, I know what I want to do. “Get under the desk”, I told her. She giggled and her eyes twinkled. I drew up the chair as she crawled underneath. I sat down and tucked in the chair. “Now make me cum, Melissa.”
I felt her mouth wrap around me again under her own desk, beyond where I could see. There wasn’t much space for her head to bob up and down. But that suited me perfectly because she wouldn’t be able to back off when the cum came shooting out. And that thought triggered its own fulfillment.
I felt her head softly bump the table as I instinctively thrusted up – too deep even for her enthusiastic efforts. My cum squirted three, four times into her waiting mouth.
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