1. Twisting On The Gallows Pole


    Date: 11/17/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: blin18, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    to sleep.” “Mmmm,” I grumbled. “OK. Shove over.” She knew I was a sucker for story-telling and she wasn't above manipulating me to entertain her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. She rolled away from me, facing the wall, and I slipped into bed behind her, reaching around under her armpit to cup one large, full breast. She wriggled back contentedly against my body. “Who’s it about?” she asked. “This is a story I haven’t finished writing yet, so I may need to make bits of it up as I go,” I said. “It’s about a guy called Bob.” “Is this Bob your physics lab partner?” she sighed complainingly. “No-oo!” I said in my most convincing As-If voice. “'Cause you’ve got such a schoolgirl crush on him,” she teased. “What? Do not!” I defended myself vehemently. “OK then, what’s this Bob like?” she said resignedly, giving up the chase. “Handsome. But in a geeky-cute kind of way. Way shy with girls.” “Oh my God,” she giggled. “It is so Bob from physics. You are so in denial!” “So it seems you don’t want a story…” I said coolly, belying the blush on my cheeks. “I apologise, Blinny,” she said primly, following it with a little snort of laughter. “Please continue.” “OK. So Bob’s on a plane. And today he’s B.O.B. That’s flight-attendant code for Best On Board, the cutest guy on the plane…” I went on with the story, stroking her breast through the slippy satin of her nightie, lifting my head and whispering hotly in her ear as I got to the sexy bits. I could tell Rupali had a hand under ...
    her nightie and was stroking herself to the cadence of my voice and my hand on her breast. As I reached the climax, with a beautiful flight attendant impaled and coming on Bob’s hard shaft in the airplane bathroom, Rupali stiffened and reached her own quiet orgasm in my arms. I quickly closed out the story, leaving an opening for the next installment in the best tradition of 1001 Arabian Nights, then kissed her and slipped silently out the door, through the dorm and downstairs to the teachers’ lounge at the foot of the stairs. Sometimes I meet Mr Gallows in sick-bay so that we can use the recovery cot, but it means I have to sneak all the way out of the building, so I prefer the lounge even without something comfortable to lie on. Mr Gallows was already there, sitting on the couch drinking a glass of wine. My usual greeting is to run and launch myself into his arms, but with the bag of tricks I was carrying and the awkward possibility of upending his wine glass, I just padded over, left my bag on the coffee table and gently straddled his lap with my knees, leaning my whole body close and kissing him softly on the lips. “I missed you, Sir,” I breathed, kissing him again, a little harder this time. “Me too,” he said through my kisses, adjusting himself inside his pants. “Wine?” “Are you allowed to offer me alcohol?” I quizzed him. “I thought there was a rule about that.” “Are you serious?” he asked, pulling back and looking at me with his brows knitted together. In fairness, he ...
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