(R/18+) Staycations & Sex: Another Student-Lecturer Affair (Part 2)

It was a few months after our first staycation together in KL, as detailed here.

I wanted to step my game up. I wanted to fly out to her city.

This time our rendezvous would last four days instead of two, in a 5 star hotel with a view of a river. Not that it mattered much, since we’d have the curtains shut most of the time.

We were both pretty psyched up about this holiday together, so in the days leading up to it we prepared things to bring. I went shopping at a local sex shop (you know the ones that front as souvenir/novelty shops but also have secret catalogues behind the counter?). I didn’t know what I was looking for, but after chatting up the woman she started recommending aphrodisiacs to me. Impressive how she had a cute lil plastic drawer of the usuals: viagra, cialis.

“Don’t use those, better to use the natural stuff” she said, and handed me something called Catuaba.

Look it up. Its legit shit and its officially part of my ‘arsenal’, with one sachet always in my wallet with my condoms, and the rest of my stash kept in my safe. Just be careful where you buy it from, and bear in mind that its technically illegal.

But I digress.

On her (my former student)’s end, she was preparing outfits. Pinafore and blouse, to be exact. We decided to give the schoolgirl thing a try, and I insisted on outfits with buttons because it allows me to execute certain surprises I had in mind for her.

Her petite size was great for that roleplay, and on top of that I like my women smaller and lighter than me; makes it much easier for me to manhandle her.

I was exhausted from my flight by the time I got to the hotel, so I decided to take a nap. She would join me after she got off work a couple hours later.

That first meeting behind closed doors would be the first of many tender moments we’d share, with my drowsily waking up from bed to the sight of this beautiful woman in her office wear sitting next to me. I had missed this. I had missed her.

I wanted so badly just to feel close to her, first with my arms, then with my lips, and then by being the closest you can with another person: by sliding myself into her.

The catuaba was already in my sistem but its full effects would only be evident after the second round of us fucking on that bed, sometimes partially clothed, sometimes completely naked.

I confess that my favourite clothing arrangement is when a woman wears a thin t-shirt with no bra underneath; I just love tracing my fingertips and eventually my teeth against the fabric, teasing myself by feeling the texture of her body but also teasing her in the same way.

The thing about the catuaba was that it made it very easy to trigger a hardon. See, good natural aphrodisiacs don’t keep you hard indefinitely, that would be unhealthy. Instead they make it easier for you to get aroused, reduce recovery times between rounds, and make you hard as a fucking rock; so hard it hurts (in a good way, of course). One thing about this substance though: it made it difficult for me to cum.

I’m already prone to being a late-cummer, but with catuaba in my system the ONLY way I can cum is if I am pounding her as hard and as fast as I possibly can; it is not an understatement to say that my stamina was pushed to its very limits. Lord have mercy on our neighbours who had to suffer through the sounds of our headboard hitting the wall constantly throughout those four days, bolstered by my loud groans and her high pitched moans.

A few hours into Day 1 and we were both exhausted and laughing at how easily I could get triggered. “Oh no, not again” she would sigh with a huge smile on her face as I spread her legs for yet another session of pounding. I’d have the same reaction whenever she took the lead and climbed up on me, ready and willing to impale herself if I was too tired to do the work.

Our pre-planned schoolgirl roleplay only lasted one round. I told her to wait in the bathroom for 30 seconds and come back out. With the room in total darkness, she cautiously stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the bedroom, only to be caught be me hiding behind a corner. Throwing her onto the bed was childsplay, though getting her pinafore off was a bit of a challenge because the fabric was hard to tear off. She struggled and tried to ‘fight back’ but I could keep her subdued with one hand.

A futile effort on her part, considering how I was almost twice her size and standing at 5″ 10′.

Her grabbing my forearms and trying to push me back with all her strength was pointless as well; in one quick move I ripped her blouse wide open, sending buttons flying to all sides of the hotel room. There she laid in the dark, like an oyster shucked open ready to be taken.

And take her I did, for what seemed like an endless amount of time when we were completely lost in each other’s bodies. Her, being hit repeatedly be wave after wave of orgasms, leaving her increasingly mindless, moaning and groaning like a woman high on her drug of choice.

At one point she started expressed disbelief at how she was feeling. Somewhere in her incoherent mumbling I managed to hear her say, “Fuck, you could do anything to me and I’d let you”.

Without skipping a beat, my animalistic instincts kicked in and I spit in her face while I was fucking her on her back. Like an angry lioness, she growled into the air, her eyes still shut tight. She grabbed my forearms with both hands, expressing herself by squeezing as hard as she could.

She was angry. She was lustful. I have never felt so much in my element than at that one moment in time. She couldn’t see it but in the dark, I was smiling from ear to ear.

I live for this shit. Who would I be if there wasn’t some woman somewhere who hated me?

That, I realised, is the purest form of passion there is: when she’s murderously angry at you but lusts for you with just as much intensity.

After I came inside of her (wearing protection; I never fuck raw), I collapsed to the floor completely out of breath. I had a huge smile on my face and was giggling to myself as the blood started to return to my brain.

From across the room she glared at me, her eyes practically burning in homicidal red.

She put on her bathrobe, pulled up a chair facing the window, and smoked cigarettes quietly for the next half hour while I recovered on the floor ten feet away.

I knew I had to give her some personal space to cool down, but not completely leave her alone; after pushing a woman to her emotional limits, aftercare is the most important thing. Compensating by manjaing her is not just an option, it is absolutely necessary.

The nasty can not exist without the tender.

The hotel room was one that had a floor-to-ceiling window looking into the bathroom, and I spent more time watching her than I’d admit . Watching her put on her makeup brought such a peaceful feeling to me; foundation, concealer, all the way to her putting on lipstick and applying the perfume I had bought for her birthday a few months prior. I smiled to myself quietly at how gorgeous she looked, and then giggled realising how I was going to make a complete mess out of her after we got back from dinner that night.

Four days together seemed like an forever, until we arrived at the airport and it suddenly felt like it was just an hour together.

Despite her apprehension from us being in public, I kissed her lips as I said goodbye. Sixty seconds later, standing in the line for immigration, something unexpected happened.

I was overcome.

Tears started rolling down my cheek.

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