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Making Do

I kicked the sheets into a tangle and stumbled, bleary-eyed, across our tiny efficiency to turn off the excited morning voices of Karlson & McKenzie cackling from the clock radio.  I reminded myself yet again that I needed to get an alarm that didn’t automatically reset every day, annoyed at the 8AM wakeup for a day when my first class wasn’t until 1.  Collapsing back onto the foot of the bed crosswise, I yawned and reached between my legs to give the boys a comfortable scratch, the protruding, uncut tip of my typical morning hard-on grazing against my palm.   I glanced up at the pristine lemon yellow pillow beside my rumpled one.

          “Fuck.  Two more days until Marie’s back from Montreal with that French club thing,” I muttered at the wall. 

     A yawn and sidelong stretch dropped my right hand into the open clothes’ hamper.  A half-formed thought flashed through my sleepy brain, and I rifled through the laundry for a few seconds to discover a purple pair of the lacy Victoria’s Secret boyshorts Marie favored.  I grinned, lopsidedly, then scooted and twisted so my head was again on my pillow.

     “Sometimes, a guy’s gotta make do,” I thought. 

     I kicked my boxer-briefs in the vicinity of the hamper and loosely wrapped my left fist around my shaft.  With my right hand, I brought Marie’s panties up to my face and inhaled her musky scent; my cock responded by twitching in my hand.  I dropped the panties down over my tip and shucked back the loose foreskin.  The brush of the lace surged a tiny tingle through my heavy balls.  I sighed and started to stroke slowly, eyes closed. 

     I pictured Marie in my head as I caressed my turgid length with the lace: her wild mass of red curls spilling down her small frame nearly to her waist; her laughing green eyes and wide mouth; her lightly freckled alabaster skin; her firm 36B tits with oh-so-pale pink nipples; her tight, wet, pink cunt lips, shaved bare but for the single tuft of red pubic hair right above her slit.  My strokes continued along my rigid cock, my grip tight on the down strokes, slightly looser on the upstroke as I coaxed a drop of precum from the hole, where it dampened the fabric of Marie’s purple boyshorts.

     A soft giggle startled me.  I opened my eyes to see Marie shutting the door behind her.  Her duffle bag, slung over a shoulder, dropped to the floor with a thud as she looked down at me in a loose, wide-strapped blue tank top and white cheesecloth skirt.  She kept her eyes on me as I lay there, startled into a sort of paralysis, and she crossed to the dinette set and pulled out a chair, straddling it backwards, facing the bed.

     “It looks like you were enjoying yourself, hon.  Don’t stop on my account,” she said, her voice dropping to a slightly huskier pitch as she continued, “I want to watch.”

     My cock had dropped to half-mast in the surprise of her interruption.  I looked again at her face, which was focused intently on my prick; it grew hard again under her gaze.  I tentatively resumed my masturbation, watching her as she watched me.

     “Mmm, that’s right, baby.  That’s a good boy.  Did you miss me?”  I could only nod as I jerked off at a slow pace.

     “I was gone three whole days, baby.  Are your balls nice and full, or did you jerk that fat cock every day while I was gone?” I shook my head mutely, too surprised and aroused by the situation to find my voice – or to lie.

     “You sure, baby?  It looks like you love the way those lacy panties feel on your fat cock.  If I look through the hamper I won’t find your sticky cum all over my other panties?” Again, a silent shake of the head was my only response, other than an increase in my pace and a deepening of the tingle in my balls.

     “Here, let me help you out,” Marie said.  She was still fixated on my cock, almost addressing it directly.  She reached behind her back, and then shrugged her shoulder, and a blue bra strap came into view, followed by the other.  With a quick flick of her wrist, she tossed the bra to the hamper, grinning impishly.  Her tits were still hidden, but now they jiggled enticingly under the tank top, and I could clearly see her hard nipples.

     “Keep stroking, hon.  Show me how much you love to tug that cock.  Show me how much you love the feel of my panties against your big, purple cockhead,” she said. 

     Her voice was almost hypnotic.  I could feel the fabric getting wetter as my precum kept weeping out into it from my slow stroking.

     “Good boy.  Stroke it faster for me now.  Is that how you like it?  Do you like that fist nice and tight around your fat cock?  Really like to squeeze while you pull back on your tugging? 

     “Do my panties feel good, baby?  Are they the very best feeling ever on your cock?  Show me how good they feel, hon.  Do you like those soft, lacy boyshorts around your hard shaft even better than my tight little cunt?” she murmured, my pace and need intensifying with each syllable and stroke. 

     My hips were lurching erratically as I masturbated now.  Her eyes on me, her stream of dirty mutterings, the feel of her panties, were all driving me toward the edge.  I didn’t know how much longer I’d be able to hold out, and part of me didn’t care, just wanted to explode, while another part just wanted this amazing feeling to continue as long as possible.

     “Are you going to cum soon, baby? Are you going to make a hot, wet, sticky mess in my pretty, lacy panties?  It’s ok; I want you to.  Here, I have an idea,” she said with a soft giggle.  She quickly stood up and reached under her white skirt.  She tugged her arms down and stepped nimbly out of the panties she had on, which were blue like her bra and the same style as those wrapped around my by now throbbing member.

     “How about this?  If you give me a nice, thick creamy load of your hot cum in those panties, I’ll put them on.  Would you like that, baby?  Would you like your girlfriend to be walking around the apartment and around campus all day in panties you make all sticky with your cum?  I’ll smell like sex, and everyone will probably notice.  I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?  If everybody noticed and thought I smelled like your own personal whore?”

     I couldn’t hold back any longer.  With a groan, I arched up so only my shoulders, head and heels were on the mattress as I came, spewing my thick white semen into her panties as she kept cooing “Ooh, good boy” until I subsided.  With a wicked grin, she reached for my hand and gently pried it off the soaked panties plastered to my member, peeled them off, and slipped them on.  Then she bent down and engulfed my super-sensitized cock in her hot mouth, sucking me clean until I had to push her away.

     “I think you’re glad my trip got cut short, aren’t you, baby?” she said with a smile as she folded herself into my arms.

     I nodded, totally drained.

“Welcome home.”

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