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Part One:

Professor Gregory Stimson noticed that every year there were a more Asians on campus, not only the foreign students, but the sons and daughters of recent immigrants. At one time there had been much fewer. They were good students, but drudges, automatons; all they did was study. They only lived to study and study more.

Stimson imagined their little brown fingers diddling their privates in a feeble effort to release sexual tensions between their tests and term papers.

Anahita Nara was on her way to her favorite class, taught by a talented instructor, Professor Stimson. She liked him and smiled at him whenever she could, and sometimes he smiled back. That made her feel good inside. She was born in America and wanted to be just like the other students, even if it meant arguments with her traditional parents. They informed her very firmly that boyfriends were not permitted. Her job was to study. Then, after she graduated, they would arrange a suitable marriage for her. There was no room in her life for romance. They even directed her to major in Psychology, and this was America! Failure was a disgrace; it was unthinkable. Her parents would simply not accept failure. Students had no other lives but their books and schoolwork, the true road to success.

Professor Stimson did not recall how it began, but he now disliked Indians. They ate strange food, and most were vegetarians. They were standoffish and did not mix in well. Indo-British accents grated his ears, and the female version was even worse; it sounded like a hysterical whine. They even smelled funny. The Indians had picked up every bad aspect of their former masters, the British, and converted them into annoying vices. Their native land was a constant thorn in the side of the United States. Finally, relentless drudgery earned them the top grades, depriving real Americans their proper reward in the college.

Anahita Nara liked Professor Stimson because he epitomized what she liked about her country: the informality, the individuality, the freedom. Maybe she and her teacher could meet socially in a more informal setting. He would discover what a cute and charming girl she was and maybe even… Her heart fluttered with secret romantic yearnings. She wanted no arranged marriage; she wanted no marriage at all to another Indian. She wanted an American husband!

Gregory Stimson smiled evilly. He had caught an Indian student turning in a plagiarized paper. He would do her in! He would have her expelled from the college in disgrace and send her packing back to her little brown family so that they could punish her too. The little wog had thought that she was clever. She had paraphrased a classic paper on Indo-British relations, but she had made a big mistake. Every idea and its development were in the exact same order as the original paper. It had popped out at him as soon as he had read the little drudge’s first two paragraphs. Too bad for her that he knew the original document almost by heart. He should; it had been at the core of his PhD dissertation.

Ms. Nara was an excellent student and seemed very bright; Stimson could not fathom why she had copied the paper. Her test scores had guaranteed her an A. Even a mediocre paper, balanced against her excellent class participation would not have changed that. Fair was fair; they often annoyed him, but he gave the Indians what they had earned in his courses. He would give her what she earned: expulsion! The rules of Chapawquaque College were very clear about that.

Professor Stimson walked into the recitation hall. The class, Modern World Political Systems, was due to begin, and he arranged his notes on his desk. It was a small room, and he enjoyed close proximity to the nineteen undergrads still in the course. That is, he enjoyed being near those that weren’t Indians. Also there were a few cute coeds, young females at the age of ripe perfection. The little blonde with the big tits was his favorite. Now that the weather was warm, her flimsy, almost slutty, outfits gave him stimulating ideas for his idle hours.

Anahita had a shy smile on her face as she glanced at her teacher. He was so ruggedly handsome, so amusing, so charming, and so knowledgeable. She would love to know him better. She saw him smile at her and smiled back. Maybe he actually liked her! She needed to meet him sometime. She wished that she dared be as brazen as the blonde girl with big breasts, boldly displaying her body to the world.

Ms. Nara was seated in her usual place. A slight smile moved across his face as he anticipated holding her after class to arrange an appointment at his office. She smiled back at him, possibly thinking that he held nice thoughts about her. If she only knew, but she would know at the end of the day when her world came crashing down on her. A brightly colored scarf covered her hair and a small dot of color gleamed on her forehead. Her round face had a very light tan complexion. It would become pale later today when he sprang his little surprise on her. Maybe Ms. Nara could pass for a white woman then.

The last few students ambled in and dropped into their regular places. Ms. Nara was patiently seated with her notebook open, her text in the corner of her desk, and a pen poised and ready in her hand. As silence grew, Stimson stood and made the introductory remarks of a short lecture. When he finished talking, he opened the floor for discussion. Anahita participated well again. She seemed to understand every point he had made; too bad she had to go. The little blonde asked such an inane question that the class was in stitches, and even he had to smile. Her face flushed in embarrassment. She was a poly-sci major too. He would love to be her faculty advisor. He would straighten her out; she needed a big dick in her. Oddly, only Anahita did not laugh at the blonde’s shame.

The recitation slowly wound down. Stimson’s eyes flicked across Ms. Nara’s pleasant, but all too brown, face at times. The shuffling of papers signaled that the students knew that time was up. Professor Stimson stood and rocked back and forth on his heels. He made a gesture with his hand, and the Indian girl moved toward him obediently, her books gathered against her full chest.

“I need to see you today, Ms. Nara, about something important,” he said.

“I can see you after four; is that is all right?” she replied with a faint smile on her face. She probably though she was to be commended. He watched her as she followed the other students out the door. She modestly wore long skirts, but her clothing did not conceal completely the full, feminine hips, shapely legs, and round, full boobs. Anahita was both sexily well proportioned and sweetly innocent; it was too bad she was an Indian.

Anahita walked slowly to her next class. She supposed that she might be receiving a compliment about her paper at the upcoming private meeting. Maybe she could announce her intention to switch her major. She liked Professor Stimson so much and wanted to have him as her advisor. She was becoming tired of Psychology, but combining Political Science and Economics would be just right for her own future plans. Her parents would be annoyed, but this was America.

She had found just the right paper in the old bound journals in the library basement. The article contained the same ideas that she wanted to say about India and Great Britain, so she made a copy and used its format to phrase her own ideas. It said everything that she had already thought of; She just filled in her thoughts and verbiage over what was there already. It was a snap, and she was done in no time. The most work came when she put in her references and bibliography.

After lunch Anahita returned to her dorm room, showered, and changed into a new, fresh dress. She wanted to look her best for her appointment. She put on new underwear, a sexy set that she had bought and concealed from her mother. Her next class ended thirty minutes before her meeting with Professor Stimson, giving her time to stroll slowly to the Higgins Social Science Building.

Part Two:

By fifteen minutes after four she was a sobbing wreck. Her body quivered on a hard wooden chair in Professor Stimson’s office. Tears streamed down her face. If his office had been up on the third floor she would have thrown herself out the window onto the pavement below, hoping for a quick end to her miserable life. His first words rang in her brain, “About this paper you plagiarized and handed in…” His face was not smiling when he said those words, slowly and with menace. Anahita had heard more unpleasant news after that, only barely comprehending it.

Anahita felt a roaring in her head and blackness overwhelmed her. Her muscles relaxed, without warning all at once, and she slid onto the office floor. Her life was ending, and she was dropping into an abyss. Sometime later she felt strong arms gather her up and place her in a comfortable place. Hands arranged her clothing to preserve her modesty, a cool glass of water was held to her hot lips, and she sipped delicately the refreshing liquid.

She opened her eyes. Anahita was looking directly into Professor Stimson’s strong and handsome face. His blue eyes and light brown hair were so attractive. She felt tears forming again in her eyes. He reached over and wiped them away with a fresh tissue and placed it in her hand. It was hard to focus on his face, but Anahita believed that she perceived some sympathy and concern there. She tried to say something, but only some mumbled nonsense emerged from her lips.

“Don’t talk now, Ms. Nara,” he directed. He urged her to relax for a while. As he looked down on her, he recalled what he had seen as the young female student had slid to the floor of this office. Her nice dress had caught on the chair edge and slipped all the way up her body exposing her curvaceous bare legs, sexily flared hips, and narrow waist. She had a shape that men would die for, both firm and sensuous. She was wearing sexy, tiger-striped panties. They had pulled up tight against her vulva and exposed its shape. Her pale brown skin was so smooth and golden. Her hair had become disarrayed in her tumble. It was long, shiny, and emitted a pleasant, spicy aroma. When he picked her up, his hands had inadvertently touched the soft, round fullness of her breasts. The girl emitted a sexily scented aroma, but it was so subtle, as if she wore no perfume at all. Holding her in his arms was the most exciting thing he had done in years.

Anahita slowly gathered herself together. Her life was over, turned into nothingness by Professor Stimson’s accusation. Her eyes told her that she was still in his Office and on his couch. The building was silent and the sounds of nature floated in on the Spring breeze. What had she been thinking when she had prepared the paper? Her innocent efforts had disgraced her forever! He was right; she had plagiarized the paper, unintentionally, but to the entire world it appeared to be deliberate. No one would ever believe her. Her father would curse her, and her mother would turn away in disgust when she arrived home. If she were lucky, they would send her as a servant to some wealthy relative’s home.

Gregory gazed down at her, allowing his eyes to sweep the length of her without really seeing, only feeling, her femininity radiate from her sexy body. She was, no doubt, a virgin, completely untouched by male hands. He would be, if he dared, the first to touch and kiss her nakedness. His lips would be the first to suck on her breasts and kiss her private places.

Anahita’s eyes focused on him, shyly noting his rugged good looks. He was not old, maybe in his thirties. Anahita had dreamed about him in a sexual way after her first class with him, filling in her romantic thoughts with images garnered from popular films. They would touch, kiss, and excite each other in these girlish fantasies, but that was all over now. She had angered and disgusted him.

“I am so sorry,” she murmured. “I really did not mean to plagiarize, but no one will ever believe me. I am judged and doomed. I accept any punishment you impose; I also accept my disgrace, sir.”

Greg said nothing, but stared at a bare leg, exposed to mid-thigh, which protruded from her disarrayed clothing. The leg ended in a slim ankle and a small, bare foot delicately housed in a sandal. A gold ring gleamed from one dainty toe. How, he thought, could anyone do evil to such a beauty? Still, Stimson was now undressing her with his eyes. He saw her shudder and glanced at her face. It was so pretty. He felt obsessed with her in a sexual way. He wondered how it would be to be naked with her and wanted to find out.

“Sir,” she continued, “I am entirely in your hands now. You may do with me as you please. I beg you to help me. My future is entirely up to you.”

Gregory continued to gaze on young Anahita. She was so distraught. She exuded some irresistible sexuality. He felt stirrings in his loins as he stared at her and recorded each nuance of her words in his mind. In spite of all ethical concerns, he lusted after her. He needed her; he needed her right then and there amongst the books and papers of his office. Gregory wanted to take her completely. His social life had been devoid of contact for the past three years as he churned out paper after paper to insure his tenure. The few women he had met soon became bored with his incessant pedantry and left him.

“I am dead to my family; I am nothing, sir. Do what you will. My life is ended, and I will pay any price for my misdeed. I am in your hands.”

“Take off your clothes,” he whispered. He could not resist her offer.

“Yes, sir.” She slowly rose from his couch and began to undress. Anahita unbuttoned the top of her dress and pulled the entire garment up and over her head and draped it carefully on the back of a chair. Her movements made her breasts jiggle within her thin bra, also of the tiger-stripe pattern, and Gregory could see her nipples were pushing out the fabric. When she reached behind her and unhooked the bra, her round breasts sagged slightly in their fullness. Anahita slipped her fingers into her panties and slid them down her shapely legs, stepping out of them gracefully. She placed her pretty underwear neatly on top of her dress and stood before him in only her sandals. The young girl attempted to conceal her nakedness with her arms and hands.

“Drop you hands. I want to see you,” Gregory ordered.

She was a sight. The voluptuous figures on Asian temples could have used her as a model. Anahita was all women, from her pretty face, to her ample breasts and wide hips, down her shapely legs to her delicate feet and toes. His penis hardened in the confines of his clothing. He stood up and saw her eyes notice his condition. A glimmer of fear passed over her face, but was replaced by resolution. Her world had crashed; she was nothing. He could do as he pleased. She had said it.

Greg took off his trousers, shirt, shoes, and socks. He stood before her with his briefs bulging with his erection. He motioned her closer and pressed her down to a kneeling position in front of him.

“Pull down my shorts.” Anahita helped him step out of them.

“Suck my penis.”

“I don’t know how, sir,” she lied. She had found her father’s private porn collection two years ago. She gave herself some private screenings of his videos. Her father liked to see blonde women suck off big, black cocks after these monsters had been jammed deep into their twats. The blondes always had enormous breasts. It had been a very educational experience.

“Use your mouth, tongue and lips on my cock, but be careful with your teeth. Suck me… lick and kiss my dick. Do it until I come and then suck my semen from me and swallow it.

“Yes, sir,” Anahita mumbled meekly. As she recalled from the videos, that was exactly how it was done. She began with slight tentative kisses and licks, but soon gave up any pretense of being unsophisticated. She understood exactly what deep throating involved, and, in this first practical experience, found that she was able to do it without gagging or choking. Hopefully, she would please him enough that he would reconsider and help her.

The girl was doing such a fine job that Gregory felt no need to force her head onto his hard prick. He watched in amazement as Anahita expertly fellated him. He began to wonder if the Kama Sutra was required reading for young ladies from India. He felt the first twinges of his climax in his balls and moaned. He saw her eyes glance up at him. Anahita began to bob her head up and down on his thick cock while she stroked it with her small hand. With a muffled groan, Gregory drove his hips forward to insure that the first load of his cum went into her mouth. Anahita wrapped her lips tightly around him. As his cock spasmed out each load of cum, she gulped it down and accepted all he could produce. She was actually sucking him and licking up his cum! She did not lose a drop. Pleasure enveloped him.

“Was that satisfactory, sir?”

“Uh… yes, Anahita, it was rather… uh… adequate,” he lied. It had been the best blowjob that he had ever had. “Where did you learn to do that?” he asked, curious about her background. Was she really an innocent young girl?

“I found my father’s video collection,” Anahita admitted. She cast her eyes down in shame and whispered, “I watched each one from beginning to end.” She did not dare confess how many times she had viewed them.

“Did you like what you saw?”

Her face flushed. “Yes, I did, sir,” she confessed truthfully.

“I see. What did you do while you watched?”

She turned her hot face farther away in her shame and mumbled softly, “I touched myself, sir.”

“Show me… Show me, Anahita, what you did.”

Anahita sat on the couch and spread her legs. One hand grasped a breast and the other began to massage her pubic mons slowly. Her pace gradually quickened as she fingered and pinched her nipples and slid her fingers into the moist, pink crevice below her thick, dark fur.

“Have you ever had a man?” He needed to know that.

“No, sir,” she gasped weakly, already caught up in her activity. Her busy, delicate fingers continued to stimulate her pussy and breasts.

Gregory was torn between two opposing inclinations: to touch her gently and lovingly, enjoying her virginal, but partly sophisticated, innocence, or to violate her in every way, callously raping and fucking her, using her body to satiate all of his libidinous, lustful urges. Gregory’s lust joined his dislike of all that Anahita represented to him and overcame his natural good will.

Anahita began to whine almost inaudibly and her hands moved in a frenzy of frustration. Her head twisted about, and her partially open mouth gasped for air. She licked her lips and moaned. Her pelvis began to rock against her fingers. Little whimpers emerged from her, and her entire body shook with the tension of her effort. A sheen of sweat made her skin glow. The room filled with her sexy aroma. She seemed to be unable to reach her climax even with Gregory blatantly fondling his dick and balls before her wanton face.

Unable to resist this lewd sight any longer, Greg knelt before her and began to lick Amanita’s pussy. Its exotic aroma stimulated him to make an enormous effort. Her hips undulated against him. He cupped her ass with his strong hands and pulled her pussy to his mouth. She froze with her fingers entwining his soft hair. Her face relaxed, she moaned, and finally her body relaxed and slumped back on the cushions. Lust had driven him beyond the bounds of decency.

Gregory did not know how many minutes passed, but he ended her respite and ordered her to get down on her hands and knees on his carpet. He knelt behind her and rubbed the head of his dick, once again hard, through her wet crevice. He placed the head of his hard cock at the vaginal opening.

“Are you a virgin?”

“Indeed yes, good sir.”

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

After the briefest pause, she said in a soft, sad voice, “yes, sir, take me. I am nothing; I am yours to do as you please.”

He grabbed her hips and drove his cock against her hymen, pushing through it and imbedding his hard prick halfway inside her twat. Anahita stifled her scream of pain by filling her mouth with her hand and biting down. Gregory pulled back a small distance and drove himself all the way in. Anahita cried out again.

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes, sir, but I am able to bear up to it, sir,” Tears flooded her eyes.

He slowly worked his cock in and out of her slippery pussy. It was so tight around him and felt excellent.

“Would you like me to fill you up with my semen?”

“Yes, sir, do what you will: I accept willingly all that you do.” What difference did it make now. She could return to her parents and tell them that not only was she no longer a virgin, but also was carrying a bastard child.

That was invitation enough. He drove himself in and out of her. First she merely accepted his violation, but soon she joined his efforts and wiggled her sexy pelvis erotically against him. It did not take Gregory long to complete his forced violation of this student. He gasped as his cum flowed into her.

Some minutes after he finished, he pulled his softened dick from her juicy pussy. “What do you think of all this?” he asked. He saw that the slick juice from her vagina and his ejaculate coated his cock and tinted it pink from her torn hymen. Anahita, as expected, had been a virgin.

“I have not been punished enough, sir,” she replied forlornly.

“Is that so!” he responded, somewhat surprised. “Bend over the arm of the couch,” her ordered. After she complied, he ran his hand gently over her smooth, round ass, admiring it shape. He lifted his hand and let it fall back with a sharp slap on one smooth cheek. He repeated the stroke on the other cheek, and went on spanking her bare ass until it pinked nicely under his admiring gaze.

“Are you ever going to copy another person’s work again?” His hand fell.

“No, sir,” Anahita cried out. “I am through with that.”

“Will you ever hand in a plagiarized report again?” Another slap rang out.

“No, sir, never, sir.”

“Have you been punished enough for today?” He let his fingers touch her sexy, but now reddened butt. It felt hot where he had spanked her.

“Sir, that is for you to say.”

Before he could answer, the bell in Titus Hall began to ring out the hour. It was seven PM. Anahita had missed her dinner in the dining hall; he was hungry too. Where had the time gone?

“Did you miss your dinner?”

“Yes, sir, but I do not care for it.”

“Well, I do. Get dressed, and we will go to a restaurant. I know one that has some vegetarian dishes that you can eat.”

Anahita slowly got to her feet and began to dress. Greg sent her to the rest room to wash her face and comb her hair. She came back a few minutes later, and seemed even prettier than before. She gathered her books and followed him to his car. As they drove off, she broke the silence.

“If you please, sir, go to any restaurant that you want. I don’t always eat vegetarian food and don’t need it.”

“I suppose you would like a steak,” he suggested sarcastically.

“That would be fine, sir,” she replied quietly. She loved steaks. Steaks were so American. She loved burgers and hotdogs. Even her parents secretly dined on meat dinners in the privacy of their home.

Fifteen minutes later they were seated in Archie’s Steak Pub. The waitress took their order for strip steaks, and they sat across from each other sipping cold glasses of a local brew. Anahita enjoyed beer too.

“Now, Anahita,” he said, leaning back, “I think that you should call me Greg when we are not in class and you are paying for your enormous misdeed. I want to hear a more detailed explanation of how you paper came to resemble that article so closely.” Anahita told him in almost boring detail how she had developed the idea for her paper and then had conducted the research. Greg began to suspect that every word she said was the truth.

Later Greg asked Anahita why she had not laughed at the blonde student’s gross error. He was amazed at her answer.

“It seemed so wrong, but there was some truth in it. She made me think of this…” Then she explained an original idea that had come into her head upon hearing the amusing answer from the blonde. Greg was amazed at Anahita’s obvious intelligence and understanding. The same idea had flashed through his own head and he had written it down as soon as he had returned to his office.

Later in the car as Greg drove his student to her dorm, he understood, at last, that her plagiarism had been truly innocent, and his punishment not only was unfair, but far, far too harsh. She had done nothing to deserve his vile forced use of her innocent, virginal body. The pressure of her shoulder against his broke his guilty thoughts. He glanced to his right and saw Anahita had moved over to him and was shyly smiling at him.

“Could you call me Ana when we are together, sir,” she requested. She liked that name; it sounded more American.

“Most definitely, Ana,” he replied and squeezed her leg, “and don’t call me sir either, just plain Greg is fine.”

“When will I receive more punishment, Greg?” she asked.

Part Three:

It was Friday afternoon. Anahita packed a bag of clothes. She had also gone shopping and picked up a few more items to fill out her weekend wardrobe. Greg would pick her up near the media center. Neither wanted the world to know of their relationship. She had met with him again in his office at his request. She had feared going, recalling what has happened the last time she had appeared there. This time was different. He had held her gently and promised her punishment would be less extreme in the future. Her body had melted into his, grateful for a meeting without any harsh abuse. She had put her arms around him.

“You will join me this weekend in my house,” he instructed. It will be just the two of us. I will allow you to do your work while I do mine. We can also try to get out and have a little relaxation during the day.”

“Yes, Greg, I am yours, as you know.” Anahita had then listened to his orders for the time and place of their rendezvous.

Now Anahita was in his car with her little suitcase and book bag on the back seat, headed away from the college to his rented house in the countryside. She moved next to him as she had seen the American girls do with boyfriends.

“Listen,” he said, still concealing his own guilt from her, “If it turns out that I made you pregnant, I’ll pay for an abortion. There is no need for you to suffer needlessly.”

“Greg, don’t worry; I’m not pregnant. My period came early, later that night, and now I am clean again.” She put her hand on his leg. “The pain was so terrible when you entered me, but now, I am glad, it is over. You can have me any time now, but, I beg you to be careful, or you will shame me.”

“Yes, Ana, we will be very careful now. I won’t be hurting you again.”

“I deserved it, Greg. If you want, I can get a referral from the health clinic to a doctor, and he can give me the birth control pills.”

“Yes, Ana, we need to talk about that and many other things.” Greg’s mind was churning with conflicting thoughts and ideas, confused by his feelings of guilt and lust. He wanted her, but how could that be, given his prior attitudes toward girls like her. She had him by the balls, if she realized it. He could be charged as a criminal and discharged from his position. He would never again be an instructor at a college. All he had worked for would be gone. He had never fooled around with a student and knew he was on shaky ground by merely dating her. Maybe the only thing that prevented her from doing filing a complaint against him was to avoid her own shame. He glanced over at her pretty face.

When they arrived, he carried her suitcase inside. She followed with her book bag. He led her into the his bedroom and explained how one closet had room for her to hang her clothes up, and a bureau had a big empty drawer to put away her belongings. He had made an effort to spruce up the place since Tuesday. He showed her around his house, feeling urges to take her again as they passed from room to room, but he held himself back. He still had so many issues whirling inside his head to deal with. Maybe it would be best to get to know her better before he could decide where he stood, where they stood.

They were in the kitchen. “I thought we could go out to eat tonight. I know a little restaurant that serves barbeque. Maybe you would like to try it. I bought a few things for tomorrow,” he named what he had, “but if you want something else, we can pick it up on the way back from dinner.” He had made the food purchases based on his new knowledge that Anahita was an American, not born in India, but, of all places, in New Jersey.

“No, Greg, everything you have sounds good to me.” She cried with delight as a large cat strolled boldly into the room. Her parents did not allow pets; it had something to do with life in India. “What a big cat! What is its name?”

“This is Tigger. He has such bold tabby markings that he almost looks like a miniature tiger, and he loves to prowl around outside. I’ve had his since he was a little kitten five years ago.”

“He is so wonderful.” She picked him up and held him. The cat began to rub its head against her. “I love him,” she said and continued to talk to the big cat. Loud purring filled the room. Greg watched and listened to her enjoy the cat. Whenever Anahita spoke, Greg realized, her voice had a pleasant, melodious tone.

Later they went out to eat, and Anahita discovered that she liked barbequed food too. Greg noticed how she always moved close to him in the car. On the way home he put his arm around her; she cuddled herself against him. When they were in his house again, he told her that he would shower and then they could relax together. As soon as he had emerged from his bedroom in loose, comfortable clothing, Anahita disappeared into the bathroom and also took a shower. When he heard her go into the bedroom, he brought two cold beers from the kitchen, and put a tape into his VCR.

Anahita appeared. She was dressed in her new little nightgown that barely reached down to mid-thigh. When she moved, he saw that nothing was under it. Greg could feel his cock begin to harden, and the evening had not yet started. She curled herself against him on the couch. He handed her a glass of beer.

“Since you said you liked this, take a look.” Greg pressed a button on the remote and the news program was replaced by the movie in the VCR. It was a triple-X video he had selected for them, complete with various sexual acts, but also with scenes of softer, more romantic situations. He hoped it appealed to her. They cuddled together and sipped their beer.

“Do you watch these often?” she asked after a ten minutes, thinking of her father’s secret library of movies.

“No, actually, not, but I recalled this one that I saw a year ago, and I thought that you would like it.” He put an arm around her.

“I do like it; it looks like there are real relationships between some of the people. It’s not all… um, sexual stuff, you know… fucking and sucking.”

Greg almost choked on his beer when he heard her say those words. It seemed so incongruous from her seemingly innocent lips, but then, she had already admitted to her sexual sophistication, and she was not a virgin any more. He had deflowered her, and here she was with him again, waiting to engage in more wanton activities. She understood fully why she was here: to service him and save herself.

His hands casually roamed over her. Anhita put her soft hands on him. They were no longer watching the movie. She reached over and put her almost empty glass down and picked up the remote. The VCR and TV clicked off. Ana turned to Greg and met his eager lips with her own. She slipped a hand under his shirt, while he felt her softness through the thin cloth of her nightgown. He suggested the bedroom and, when she murmured her assent, picked her up and carried her to his bed.

Her body was filled with desire, and a flood of lust flamed inside her. She wanted to have the same feeling that she had experienced earlier and needed relief from the sexual tension that had accumulated during the week. She became very aggressive in the bed and pulled Greg’s clothes from him and quickly shed her own simple garment.

“I think I should punish you some more, before we go any further,” Greg said as they grappled nakedly on the sheet. “Do you understand?”

“What kind of punishment?” she answered meekly.

“What kind do you deserve?” he countered.

“Maybe another spanking,” she suggested. She had thought about his hands slapping her firm round ass to a nice red color. She had tingled all the next day.

“Yes,” he said. He grabbed her and pulled her across his legs. “How about this?” he asked as his hand descended again and again onto the smooth flesh. “Am I going to see any more work handed in that was copied from others?”

“No! Never again.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked as he continued the spanking.

“Yes, I am certain of it, very certain indeed.”

“Good, for now, at least,” he said and rolled her onto the bed. As she lay there on her stomach, enjoying the residual sting on her buttocks, Anahita felt his lips touching the same spot where his hand had only just chastised her. Soon he rolled her over and spread her legs apart. She moaned when his lips first touched her damp pussy, remembering how he had brought an end to her suffering days ago. His lips, tongue, and finally his fingers soon brought her to a climax. Her hips were grinding against Greg’s face involuntarily. Still he continued to stimulate her with his mouth. She felt another thrill sweep over her and cried out.

Through half-closed eyes Anahita watched as Greg rose up from the bed and reached into the nightstand. He rolled a rubber onto his erect penis and knelt between her legs. She could feel the liquid of her own secretions seeping out, dripping down her ass. He rubbed his hard cock up and down her oozing cunt and pushed it into her a little way.

“Does that hurt, Ana?” he asked.

“No,” she gasped. “Put it into me, Greg… all the way in.”

Greg carefully moved deeper, watching her face for any sign of pain. He was fully imbedded in her tight pussy. She knew what to do. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him down onto her.

“Fuck me, Greg darling,” she moaned. “Fuck me hard. I want you so bad.” The spanking, the cunnilingus, and now his big cock filling her, the whole ritual was having an incredible effect between her legs and inside her belly. She was so hot; she needed to be fucked so badly. Her hips again moved without any conscious effort from her. Greg began to move himself in and out.

“You’re my little slut, aren’t you?” he croaked out. You wanted me to make you do this. Your little hot twat is on fire.”

“Yes, baby, yes, fuck me! Put out the fire in my hot pussy!” She cried, uttering a line from the very movie they had just watched. The words had stuck in her thoughts since she heard them.

Greg recognized the lines too and the image that went with them. He drove himself with hard, deep strokes into her slippery cunt. “Yes, you little slut, I’ll fuck you silly. You just see if I don’t!” He slammed himself deep into her as his moist flesh slapped against her, and he rubbed his lips and tongue on her soft, sweaty boobs, sucking her swollen, dark nipples.

“Yes, baby, fuck me all night long; I need you so bad!” She gasped. His pubic bone was pressing against her clit each time he rammed himself into her. “Ohhh… baby… ohhhhh… yeah… ohhhh… OHHHH!” Anahita came once again.

Greg felt her vaginal walls spasm on his cock, and the tension in him that had been building for days suddenly snapped. An enormous swell of pleasure spread from his pelvis. He had never felt an orgasm so strong before. He collapsed onto her and found her mouth waiting for his own. Many minutes passed; he moved from her and disposed of the rubber, now filled with his thick semen. He pulled the covers up over them. He heard little throaty sounds from his lover as she cuddled closer to him and rested a soft arm across his muscular chest.

In spite or their bold promises, they slept soundly through the night and woke up refreshed after sunrise. They were too hungry to think of anything but food and soon were sitting in the kitchen nibbling fruit and pastries and sipping cups of hot tea. They had not bothered to dress, and, as soon as their stomachs filled, their eyes were all over each other’s flesh; hands and lips followed.

Greg sat on a kitchen chair and Anahita straddled his thighs with his fully erect cock pressed against the roundness of her soft stomach. As she leaned back in his grasp she cupped her breasts and offered them to him. He leaned down and allowed her to feed her long, dark nipples between his lips. When he had satiated that need, she lifted herself up and lowered herself onto his dick, allowing it to slide slowly into the depths of her slippery pussy.

“Fuck me for a while; then I want to suck you off,” Anahita murmured. She felt that her cunt was just a few strokes away from an orgasm. She lifted and dropped herself on his thick prick as he drove up into her. A faint twinge inside her grew and washed over her once again. “Oh yes… ohhh yessss… ooohhhhh… ohhh… yessssss… yesssss! Fuck me! Oh YES, YES! FUCK!” she cried and pulled herself hard against him. A surge of pleasure flashed over her.

Her heart slowly returned to a more normal pace, but Greg’s rigid manhood was yet stretching her pussy. Anahita lifted herself up with reluctance and sat on the floor before Greg. She swept her disheveled, raven hair back and looked up at him. She smiled lewdly and ran her tongue along her lips. Her head dipped down and she began kissing and licking the soft, wet glans of Greg’s dick. She could taste herself on him as she took him deeper and deeper inside her mouth.

Anahita relaxed her throat and allowed Greg’s cock to slide down her throat. As she swallowed him, her throat muscles worked on the end of his dick. Greg moaned at this rare pleasure, and Anahita allowed his slippery pole to pull out of her, but not without a loud slurp. She looked up at his face again, noting the closed eyes and the gasping sounds from his lips. Again she sucked him deeply into her and felt his legs begin to shake with excitement. As she stroked his cock with one hand, she fed, in turn, each of his testicles into her mouth and massaged it with her tongue. Forming her tongue into a hard point, Anahita ran it up and down the underside of his cock.

“Make me come,” he begged. “Make me come with your mouth. I can’t take it any longer… make… me… come… please, Ana!”

Anahita took the end of Greg’s cock in her mouth and swirled her tongue around the big head as she pumped the shaft rapidly with her fist. In a few seconds Greg groaned and Anahita felt the fleshy pole twitch. The first shot of cum squirted into her waiting mouth. She glanced up at his face as she swallowed the warm, tangy semen and saw that he had slipped away into a world of joy.

Satiated, they returned to bed. Anahita snuggled against her lover and felt his arm drape around her. She lifted her head and looked into his eyes.

“I was wondering, Greg,” she asked, looking at him hopefully, “if you might grow to like me some day, even only a little?”

He looked at her and smiled. “I do like you, Ana. I am already so filled with my liking you, that I can barely contain it.” Gregory’s powerful arm pulled Anahita’s sweet body to him, and he felt a purring from deep inside her as she rested her beautiful face on his shoulder.

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