Tom

Tom had often found it funny how time seemed to distort or bend for him when he was alone and confined in the darkness, minutes could feel like hours. He could have sworn the final period took two hours or so, when he felt her finger grinding his face back into her clit. She said something, but he couldn’t make it out before she was up and walking around. He could feel the flesh of his hands and feet prune in the hot humid damp environs of her wet panties. Again he was unsure of how the evening ahead was going to unfold, but suspected it would be more vigorous and taxing than anything he had ever experienced before, hell, one gigantic woman was more than he could handle. Two? He knew he was going to be put through the proverbial wringer. He suspected Miss Harwood would assume the more dominant role and Cassidy the lesser, especially given the comfort and confidence Miss Harwood exuded in her handling of him. He also suspected he would entirely be at the mercy of their passion and the night to come would be a long one. Closing his eyes, he decided he should try and get some rest to gather energy and replenish his reserves for the ordeal ahead.

Tom was jostled out of his slumber when he felt the panties being pulled down, in fact she pulled them to the ground and simply stepped out of them, leaving him lying on the floor in her bedroom. He watched her as she continued to undress, a smug grin on his face thinking about the orgasm he had teased out of her, but she ignored him, stripping naked, uttering the single word, “Stay,” before exiting the room casually without bothering to give him a glance.

After a couple of minutes, Tom frowned, was she just going to leave him there? Stay? “Hey!” he called out, wiggling his head from side to side and trying to squirm out of the cloth prison. From elsewhere outside the bedroom door, he could hear the sound of a shower. Without the tension of being plastered to her body, he was actually able to withdraw his head from the cut in the sheer material and pull himself out of the opening and get free of the panties. Picking up an unsoiled portion of material, he wiped his face and did his best to dry himself off. Taking a step, he paused. She had left him there on purpose and if she found him gone when she returned, would she be cross? He turned and looked at the tangled mess of her panties. A smile split his lips and he shook his head. I think I am becoming pussy whipped, he mused. He chuckled aloud. He had liked playing the student/teacher game and letting her take charge, but he still saw himself as somewhat of an alpha male, a wolf that could neither be tamed nor penned. Chest swelling with bravado, he wondered if maybe it was time for the pupil to teach the teacher, invert the roles. The question of how chased the smile form his face. How could he exert his will and reassert himself? The imbalance in power by sheer physical size alone was near to impossible to overcome. Being adamant or defiant with her would mean very little when Miss Harwood could simply ball him up and do with him as she wished, whether he liked it or not. He could always hide, maybe make her think she had lost him, but that was so passive aggressive and wouldn’t realign the dynamic of the relationship, it would only make her worry or angry, then what? Letting out a breath, he frowned. No matter how much he liked to think of himself as an alley cat on the prowl, he was beginning to think of himself as more of a neutered indoor cat, wholly and completely dependent on the women currently in his life. He needed them for everything. The thought was very sobering. On the other hand, the quantity and quality of vagina he had seen in the past ten days had been absolutely phenomenal. The thought brought a smile to his face. His body started to responded.

Looking down at his growing excitement, “Really?” he said, spreading his hands. Laughing softly to himself, he gave himself a couple of strokes before starting to walk toward the door, figuring he would meander down to the bathroom and check on the extremely fine Miss Harwood.

Padding out into the hall, he found the bathroom easily enough, door partially ajar, allowing steam vapor to escape out of the room along the ceiling and letting him walk in. Across the brightly lit room, he looked toward the shower, the curtain was opaque, geometric designs molded into the plastic. He could see her darkened silhouette moving back and forth through the partition separating them, but none of the luscious details of her immaculate body.

“That sucks,” he said sourly, walking closer and onto the colored plush bathmat lying in front of the bathtub shower. It was like finding scrambled porn on a digitized station. You knew someone was most definitely naked, but you didn’t know if you were lusting after an elbow or a breast.

The water turned off and the curtain swept aside, the sound of the plastic rings scraping along the bar before revealing Miss Harwood standing there in all her majestic naked glory, spectacular body glistening wetly as she tilted her head back and swept back her long hair, water spilling out.

“Nice,” he said slyly, nodding approvingly as he looked up at her statuesque body.

She turned suddenly, flipping her hair to the other side, small droplets of water cascading down toward him as she lifted her leg to step out of the tub and took hold of her hair in her other hand all at the same time.

It suddenly occurred to him, he was standing pretty much where she was stepping and she hadn’t seen him or was even aware he was out of her panties. Darting to the side as quickly as he could, he saw a shadow settle over him as the gigantic foot came down faster than he could run.