*** Mark was nervous, excited, and thoroughly horny.

A month ago, he'd been licking the sexiest, most responsive pussy in the world and trying for the thousandth time not to gloat that this goddess had somehow chosen him to build a life with, when her phone buzzed.

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She'd kissed a dozen more people, occasionally teased by the vibrator and occasionally not, but at this point it hardly mattered.

She needed to get some satisfaction soon, or she was going to lose her mind. I've done my best." "Now Claire, you know what you signed up for. I'll tell you what, if you need a little break I can offer you one," he indicated a glass of water and a plate of fruit.

I'm counting on you to take this seriously." She felt a little shiver at how deeply he'd gotten into the role, and how uncertain this now felt. "This is your last chance to back out, Claire," he said, handing her a small bag. " On his nod, she excused herself to the bathroom and slipped the vibrator into her pussy. According to the procedure, she would approach at least thirty patrons to get her "A." She would ask each if she could get their help with a physiology experiment, which would involve taking their pulse, then kissing them on the lips, and then taking their pulse again.

Inside, she recognized the remote-controlled vibrator they'd used only once in public. Unbeknownst to the volunteers, "Claire" would record for each if they were condition A (control) or condition B (aroused), where the kiss would coincide with Claire's vibrator triggering in her pussy.

Joanna was comfortable with their new lifestyle: after fifteen years of monogamy, and kids, and work, and all other kinds of joys, they had decided to branch out sexually, invite occasional other couples into their shared pleasures.

She smiled when she thought of her husband's mysteriousness and buildup.

She walked back to the table where her professor waited with an amused look on his face. "Just have a seat and tell me how it's gone so far." Claire was unsurprised to feel the buzzer in her pussy activate as she started to talk.

This randy old professor clearly had a thing for her. "I've been getting hotter and hotter, with you watching me make out with all these people. I'd be glad to help..." her hand ventured into his lap, and she felt with approval his rigid cock straining against his clothes.

With, she later admitted, visions of a naughty schoolgirl on her knees filling her head the whole time. "Now Claire," he interrupted in a firm tone, "we've already been down this road.

The texts were innocuous enough for their lifestyle: a suggestive bit of banter with a friend who happened to teach classes at the local community college, sexy joking about earning some extra credit, and a few sexy pictures of her performing enthusiastic fellatio the week before. He was terrible at keeping secrets, so he let her figure out they were going to the Naughty School Girl theme night at the club. I'm the one who emailed you about the extra credit? I admit you give great head, and you definitely earned your opportunity to retake the midterm, but the final is over now.

To be fair, this was her biggest unfulfilled fantasy: the naughty schoolgirl. Why had she taken so long to let him half-know how important this was to her?