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Julia’s Booty: Part 2

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Julia’s Booty: Part 2
Study Group lab researches advanced techniques.

by Feynman15, in 4

parts, Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.



 

Julie went

directly back to sucking my cock head directly into her mouth. I threw my head
back and groaned. And then without warning my eyes widened and my mouth fell
open in shock as she pushed her head down and my cock slid all the way into her
mouth into the back of her throat. It was like a suction of tight slippery
warmth all the way down the base of my shaft. I was giving audible “uh”s
of pleasure as Julia stayed locked onto my cock stuffed all the way into her
throat, slightly bobbing up and down. She slid it out of her mouth and gasped
with strings of saliva dangling between her and me.

“Oh my god,” she said. “I can totally do it!”

“Holy shit that was insane,” I said. “That was insane.”

She gathered the strings of dangling saliva with my cock like it was cotton
candy, then rubbed that extra slippery spit all over my boner. “Hold
on,” she said. And she swallowed my cock in one fluid motion and had her
lips pressed against my pubic mound. I grabbed her ass cheeks and squeezed my
pleasure into her flesh, and I couldn’t help my legs from involuntarily
thrusting just a bit as she was fully engulfing my cock down her throat. She
pulled out again with more saliva strings and said, “Yeah, do it.”

“Do what?” I asked.

She moaned and said, “Don’t make me say it! I’m shy,
dude.”

“Please,” I said.

She looked at me in the mirror and said, “Fuck my throat.”

I got excited and said, “Oh, fuck yeah,” as I positioned myself
just right.

“You can fuck it like it’s a cunt,” she said. Another moment
to save for life.

I leaned a little bit to the left of her legs so I could watch my erect cock up
and into her mouth, into her throat all the way. I thrusted into her, my balls
flapping all the while. She was taking my cock really easily, and let out cute glug
noises each time I got all the way in. I inhaled a big breath and started
thrusting rapidly into her throat embrace. Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug,
glug.

“Ugh,” spilled out of me as I stopped the thrusts and pulled out of
her mouth for a moment. I had a tingling and needed to hold my cock a moment,
just in case I was about to cum. She opened again and I went back in. Glug,
glug, glug, glug, glug, glug, glug-glug-glug.

I caught my breath. “Wanna know something sexy?” I asked.

Julia wiped a tear and asked, “What?”

“Think about yesterday when you told me you liked me,” I said.
“And now look at what we’re doing together.” I lifted my cock
back into her throat and pounded away.

She caught her

breath. “You’re so bad,” she said. Glug lug lug lug.

I pulled out of her mouth and slid away from her, but kept her all fours doggy
style. “And just to be clear, I really, really, really like you
too,” I said. I got on my knees and buried my face in her from behind,
suctioning between her cunt and ass. She yelled out a collection of “Oh
my god”s as I ate her up fully. 

She turned around and we embraced in deep kisses that swirled our personal
flavors back and forth. She got on her back and spread her legs wide, her hand
now in between, and she said, “Cum with me.” She started fingering.
I started stroking.

We were staring at each other intently and our heads were shaking while doing
so because our hands were so busy below. I was biting my lip and staring into
her gorgeous green eyes and the inevitable was at my doorstep. And as if on cue
she started having short breaths of “Oh” that interrupted each of
themselves, and her hand was rubbing furiously. Julia opened her green laser
beams fully and I saw the glory and she melted into orgasm as those eyelids
lowered their curtains. I was still jerking off hard but was ready to pop off any
moment.

“Where; should; I; .”

“ in my mouth,” she said.

“Oh god.”

And Julia got up and I grabbed her head and guided the tip of my cock onto her
resting tongue. And I pounded the base of my cock hard and a tingling within
arose and the heat increased and I could feel my cum coursing through. I told
her I was cumming and her mouth went bleh in anticipation and I spasmed jets of
white liquid over and over and over and over at least 6 shots directly into her
mouth as she moaned each time a squirt of cum went in.

She closed her lips onto my head and sucked in the last drops as I spasmed with
that feeling you get when it’s too much and you can barely take it. Julia
took it all in her mouth and swallowed while looking at me. Then she coughed a
bit and told me it was salty. Oddly enough that moment of the sexual fantasy
breaking into a harsher reality was an even further turn on for me. We both
stood up and kissed.

And then in the time to follow we talked casually and allowed the conversation
to turn into silences. But unlike before where they were a bit awkward, these
moments were now relaxed and fun, and we reflected in silence on what just
happened and would chuckle or say something like “wow” every now
and then. When we started putting things back to the way they were, I grabbed
our underwear from the bed.

“Can I keep these?” I asked, holding her soiled panties. The words
escaped my mouth before my brain could catch up to stop them.

“Uh, why?” she asked.

I put them up to my face and inhaled her dirty musk. “Souvenir, I guess.
Hold me over until next time.”

She giggled. “You gonna sniff those and jerk off to me?”

“Please?”

“Ok,” she said. “But what do I get?”

I started jerking myself without putting a thought to it. And then I had the
thought that I was acting so impulsively in the presence of this girl. And that
thought, the thought that she brought it out of me, was making the whole
situation even hotter, and my dick got harder in the middle of it all.

“How about a little snack for the road?” I said.

Julia got on her knees and played an innocent face while sticking her tongue
out. She nodded her head in approval.

“Feed me,” she said. Bleh.

My cock wasn’t even fully hard at that point, but I had a lingering
horniness that wasn’t going to stop me. I slammed my hand hard onto my
cock, and pretty much willed myself into a state of ecstasy as I felt the
tingling again and I shot a couple more jets of hot semen directly into her
mouth. “There you go.”

She smacked her lips as she finished me off. “It’s so hot that I
got that out of you.” She got up and started putting her clothes back on.

“You make me want to do everything I can,” I said.

“Like lick my ass?” she said. She gave me a coy smile.

“That. And more,” I said.

She smiled. “I believe it.” She stood and did a little shimmy in
place.

I felt great and was in such a light mood, so I then jokingly said, “So.
Same time next week?”

And as she finished dressing herself she turned around and said,
“Yes” in the most serious way possible. I looked at her and stared
into her with lust, and my cock responded in that moment. She saw and returned
the look of lust right back at me. It was intense. And I was hard, somehow. She
crinkled her forehead a bit and said, “Aw. Did I just say the magic
words?”

I nodded.

“Umm. You have some more cum for me?”

She crawled quickly over to me and I ripped my jeans and boxers off in a fury,
and she opened her mouth and I shoved my cock into it. And the blood rushed to
my cock in no time, and I started throat fucking her.

A few weeks later, and he hasn't heard a word from Julia!

There’s nothing quite like the exhaustion that comes

with moving furniture. But if you have the right equipment and some good
friends, you won’t be so gassed after moving a refrigerator up two steps.
That was the situation I was in Wednesday afternoon, as my friends helped me
move into my new place, my own house in a quiet neighborhood not too far from
where I worked. We were done in a couple hours. There was a sense of
accomplishment as we hung out afterwards hydrating and intoxicating ourselves.
It was really nice to have their support, and nice to already feel at home with
all of them around. But even with great friends, I always reach a point where
it catches up to me and I’m exhausted from the interaction and I need to
recharge my battery. Alone. That’s just the way that works best for
me. 

After they left I sat on my backyard porch swing and cracked a beer. The blue
sky dimmed as the sun set. The crickets serenaded the impending night. I stared
at the brown picket directly ahead. Hopes and possibilities jumbled around in
my head, thoughts of meeting neighbors and enjoying more independence and
turning my house into a leveled-up sanctuary for comfort. But another feeling,
in my gut, was one of nervousness, of anxiety over what’s to come, challenges
with insurmountable odds and ambiguities and a player to be named later. It was
time to shut it all off. Time to fully drain. I left the beer to the mosquitoes
and shut the screen door behind me. There was a labyrinth of boxes that I
worked through to the makeshift bedroom. I stumbled onto the bed and worked my
boxers onto the floor.

Lucky guy, I was, to be able to access the memories and mementos of my sexual
experiences. I reached into an unpacked bin and pulled out the pair of
Julia’s soiled panties. My inhale was deep. Her scent was robust, cunt
and ass and pheromones and a lingering scent that was both dirty and sweet. The
smells triggered the memories instantaneously, where my cock twitched to the
phantom feelings of Julia’s throat jerking it warm and wet.

Glug glug glug glug,
I came quickly and easily but felt frustrated afterwards. I hadn’t heard
from her in 3 weeks. At the time of our hookup I told myself to expect nothing
and be cool with it. I was truly fortunate, then, to play with her the way we
did. Time is a revealer of deeper truths, however, and the truth was that I
missed her. But what could I do? We had agreed a few weeks before that we
couldn’t text or call each other, just to be safe. A part of me wanted to
break this rule, but the fact she hadn’t, made me think texting would
only make things worse. Another part of me was severely concerned that I had
done something wrong. It was really difficult to shake that feeling.

The next day I encountered two other truths of life. The first is that
life’s worries and concerns are very rarely as bad as we imagine them to
be. Don’t get me wrong, life can be very difficult, and certainly easier
for some than others. But our worries are often amplified by our imaginations
when we have too much time and no one around. I realized this, yet again, when
I opened my mail box and found a letter from Julia. It felt nice to know this
was the first mail my new home received. But the other truth that I encountered
is that you rarely get exactly what you want. I recognized this, as the
personal letter I was expecting from Julia (; which in retrospect made no sense
because who her age writes letters…) turned out to be an invitation from
her family for her graduation ceremony. The fonts were swirly and there was
gold glitter everywhere.

Some communication was better than none, I figured. But then I also thought,
what if this had no input from Julia herself? She wrote her name on the card,
but the fact hers was in dark red ink while theirs was in black told me she
just signed it after the fact. Her family was just being nice, as they usually
were with these types of things. Same reason I’d get an Amazon gift card
from them come holidays. 

The more I thought about it, the more I reasoned her distance was a best-case
scenario. Because, I mean, what if she ended up talking to them? What if she
gained some new perspective and felt like I had taken advantage of her? What
if, therefore, this was all a really elaborate setup? Was there a van outside
my house listening in on me? Is there a graduation ceremony? Do kids graduate?
What does that word even mean? And is her name even Julia?

Too much time. No one around. Too much time. No one around.

With too much time, at least, your mind can send you in the other direction. So
as that moment passed, and the following days unfolded, I settled on the more
stable viewpoint that I was worrying too much and things would be fine. There
were no suspicious vehicles outside. Graduations were a thing. And Julia, who
actually went by that name, was aware of the fact I was moving. Maybe she
figured I’d be busy. She was busy too, of course. 

And so truthfully, when graduation Saturday came around everything felt okay. I
ate some breakfast and took a shower and dressed up nicely. I even felt pride
as I got ready, thinking about what I did to help her get to this point. It
felt exciting to gather myself, dressed to the nines, and participate in the
celebration. It was a welcoming feeling to slow-roll into the parking lot and
saunter towards the gym. The school was really clean and there were balloons
tied to everything. There was the sound of high heels echoing down hallways.
Fresh baked cookies on trays, carried by a caravan of staff, to an undisclosed
location.

Curiosity got the best of me and I followed the last in the cookie caravan down
a hallway and around a corner when I bumped into a paunchy man in his 50s with
curly black and gray hair. He wore 10 year old Merrell sneakers and had a vinyl
record under his arm.

“Well how about that,” the man said. “Small world.”

“Jim!” I said. “So what’s the deal, I move away and now
I can’t have a cookie?”

“Wait like the rest of ‘em you little shit,” he said. He
reached out and gave me a half hug, careful with the vinyl record. I asked him
what he was packing.

“I shit you not, this was a gift from some of the kids,” he said.
“These kids, they can’t tell you a thing about music, but they can
google, find discogs, find the exact version of a record down to the matrix.
It’s impressive and it isn’t at the same time, you know?”

“It’s impressive Jim. You’re just old. You need a cookie or
something. Get me one while you’re at it.”

“You’ll be too someday and I’ll haunt your ass,” he
said. He handed me the record.

“Songs For My Father? I’m surprised you don’t have this one
already.”

“Not this. It’s an original blue note. Rudy Van Gelder etching.
It’s impressive, I must admit.”

He showed me its lack of imperfections with the enthusiasm of Christmas
morning. “You know what I’ll be doing tonight,” he said.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Amaretto on the rocks?”

He laughed in an ostentatious sort of way. “A Van Gelder original
deserves scotch. Neat.”

“Neat,” I said.

Cookie-less, I found my way to the gym and took one of the few remaining seats.
The family I sat next to were warm. Their daughter played tennis with Julia and
the father knew a lot about the French Open. The ceremonies were pleasant and
everyone was safe. It all seemed so easy up to that point. At the end, the
principal talked into the microphone and there was feedback noise that got the
students too hyped. She eventually told us to head outside.

The gigantic field beyond the gym was known as the quad. The green felt never-ending.
There were folding tables with gold and white striped sheets, and the drink
bowls had ladles. The rumor was that the cookies were soon to arrive. Families
were scattered in all directions. It was a very pleasant sight but I had a lot
of trouble feeling comfortable as the inevitable dragged me down. But I
reasoned that if there was an issue it would have happened already. Another
student’s little brother found me and asked me to show him my tattoo and
I did and he was funny. 

With less reluctance and more relaxation, I searched the sea of tall,
long-haired girls with caps until I sighted my siren, posing for her dad who
tried his best Scorsese impression with a Galaxy S series. When I arrived we
all exchanged hugs and Julia felt warm and it felt okay. I scrutinized her face
for anything, while keeping my cool, and she was very hard to read. We kept it
light and Julia played with her hair in the maroon bow.

There was no sign of the worst-case scenario. It seemed like most of my
concerns were self-inflicted, so as I realized this I was able to loosen up and
enjoy their company. The conversation was light and flowing. I suppose one
could say I was betraying their trust, but I was sincere and earnest with my
job, and my experience with Julia was coming from a place of similar sincerity
and mutual communication. At least that’s what I had convinced myself of.

And in that moment the thought was out-of-reach, floating far beyond the
expanse of the grass. The day was bright and there were napkins loose in the
light breeze. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted another one of my students.
I was beginning to feel that I should go, or that I was close to staying past
my welcome, and I told them I should go say hi to some others. Julia’s
mom offered tea if I were to come by in the summer and I was amicable. Julia
took a break from playing with her hair bow and handed me a present.

“I, I mean we,” she said, “wanted to give this to you.”

“It’s nothing,” said Julia’s mom. “Really, could
we perhaps give you something more? Do you like Apple or Samsung?”

“Mama I took care of it,” said Julia. “Remember?”

“Oh yes, yes,” said her mom. “Open it!”

It was a shadow box, it seemed, like the type you’d find in a
Michael’s. The box was black and about the size of a football and heavier
than you’d expect. And floating in the center, behind a pane of glass,
was a miniature decoration, a sort of education-themed mashup of notebooks and
binder paper, pens and pencils, a ruler, all with a swirling red ribbon
throughout.

“This is so nice,” I said. “What a sweet gift. Thank
you.”

Julia said, “You can take out the back and there’s a gift card
there too. But it’s kinda annoying to, like, pop it back in. Hope you
like puzzles.”

“Why’d you put it there?” asked her dad.

“So it’s all in one thing. I told you!” said Julia.

Her dad put his hand on my shoulder. “I used to feed lions, back when I
was a young man like yourself. How blessed I am that I did!” He tapped
his nose and laughed and Julia stared him down.

“She’s having a sleepover with friends,” said her mom.
“We think it’s just an excuse. Anything to get away from us!”
Both her parents laughed and I played along.

The gift was a kind gesture. But at the same time there was something about it
that fell a bit flat, and it reminded me of the feeling I was having that very
moment with Julia. She was being friendly, but in the way that she always did
in the presence of her parents. I just could not read those heavy green eyes.

But I did say my goodbyes and lingered for a moment that felt like forever. I
guess in the most clich d sense, I expected her to come running after me. Maybe
more reasonably, accost me while I’m walking around. At the very least, I
expected some sort of sign or indication or hint or subtle moment of inertia
that told me something, some feeling, some acknowledgment that we could and
would see each other again.

I walked to the parking lot feeling much different than before. I put the gift
and

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