Owen looked up the street, then down it, then up it once more. There was a mail truck turning onto the street, but it was two blocks away and even the angriest mail carrier couldn’t have barreled up to him in time, so he crossed. A couple students and another faculty member took his cue and crossed as well, in the middle of the street. The crosswalk was just too far away.

It seemed the entire campus town was out and about, cherishing the new sunlight with long, bare limbs. With the change of seasons came new wardrobes, young men and women baring themselves to each other, hormones surging. And Owen had these hormones too, but he was shy about baring himself, and he didn’t know how to speak to women. Instead, he witnessed the spectacle from afar until it became too much and he had to close his eyes and breathe deeply.

When he opened them, he was confronted with a huge, round ass.

It was as sudden as that. As soon as his eyelids parted, there was a nearly spherical butt churning right beside him. It was tightly bound in tweed, and it rolled back and forth merrily with each step. Each buttock was about as large as a female sophomore’s head.

Owen blinked, and blinked again.

From beneath these cushiony hips stretched long, strong legs in charcoal tights. Thighs pulsed and shook—not the erratic shudder of cellulite, but the thoughtfulness of developed muscle—and round calves worked, firming and loosening above the cuffs of well-seasoned black leather biker boots. Had these boots been on an undergraduate, the heels would’ve pounded the pavement and scraped up the sidewalk, a bang and a rasp with every step. On this woman, however, every footfall was controlled, moderated, intentional. Each sweep of a long and strong leg led to the subtle placement of the boot, nearly silently. Owen studied this as those supple legs strode by.

He watched it all in slow motion, breathlessly, and nothing else in the world existed for him.

When his lungs finally demanded oxygen, Owen gasped noisily (a couple women nearby flinched and stared at him). It felt as though his heart had paused as well; now it was hammering its way to freedom from within his chest. Without blinking he watched those legs walk up the sidewalk, watched that big, round butt in its textile restraints dancing away from him.

Away! No! Owen’s mind panicked at the thought of this woman leaving his sensory range. He wanted more, he had to see more! “Wait, hold up!” he cried out.

Immediately, all the blood in his body turned to ice. What the hell did he just do?

Worse, the legs actually stopped walking. One boot aligned beside the other. The round butt stopped bouncing along and hovered in space like a planet of untold pleasures. Then the hips rotated slowly and the boots shifted, and the woman was partially, then mostly, facing him.

“Yes?” she asked, smiling. Now Owen was hit with the rest of her, the reality of this actual flesh-and-blood woman in the real world, divorced from the porn fantasy he’d hastily thrown together in his mind.

She was tall, a little taller than him. She was middle-aged, it looked like: Owen was a fifth-year senior at the college, and this woman looked like faculty. She had wise, slightly sad eyes and a very sweet grin: between rosy lips her teeth were white and straight. Very subtle gold earrings glinted from beneath a swooping waterfall of brownish, salt-and-pepper hair.

Owen’s mouth opened and closed a couple times while he took her in, with absolutely no sections of his brain fumbling for an excuse as to why he just shouted at her.

She was wearing a russet cardigan over a black mock turtleneck, with a gold necklace, from which was suspended a tiny blue vial. Her breasts… Owen couldn’t believe he was checking out her breasts while she stared at him, but he saw pleasantly round, nicely parted spheres nudging at her shirt, politely announcing their presence. She was up there in years, yes, but she had taken care of herself. Aged very well, Owen was stunned to hear himself say. He wasn’t into older women, and surely there would be some kind of complication with a student fucking a faculty member… whoa, where’d that come from…

“Is there something I can help you with?” The woman tilted her head gently, her grin widening. Students flowed around the two of them like a dozen streams within a river slipping around a rock and a log. They were homogeneous blurs to Owen’s perception, who was picking out the details of her fleshy, peachy cheeks and the elegant length of her slender nose.

“Yeah,” Owen said, dreamily. “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.” The words came out of him, the same way other people throw up a little bit when their bodies are excited and food doesn’t agree with them. Owen felt about as graceful as they did, in this moment.

A few moments passed, and then the woman raised her eyebrows and nodded slightly at him. “About what?”

Part of Owen’s brain swore: he hadn’t been prepared for a follow-up statement.

The woman tugged back the sleeve of her cardigan and peered at her watch. “Why don’t you walk with me, there’s somewhere I have to be.” She nodded her head up the sidewalk, inviting him, and Owen felt his feet stumble and then catch up to her.

“I’m not in your class,” he started.

“I’m not an instructor,” she finished.

“I’m not in your department, either.”

“What department would that be?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it is, I’m not there.”

She laughed. Her voice rang comfortingly, if such a thing were possible. All the muscles in Owen’s body relaxed with her voice, and his heart brightened a little. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

“I don’t know why you’re so pretty,” came out the words, unbidden, unrehearsed.

This time there was a longer pause, during which Owen died a few times, but it rounded out with more of that merry laughter. Had he said something clever?

“I’ve got somewhere to be, but there’s no reason you can’t come with me, if you’re patient.” She reached out to him, and her fingernails raked lightly through his hair, down the back of his head. The touch was so light, but immediately every follicle on his body toughened up into aroused goosebumps. His cock filled and stiffened, and a few drops slipped out and soaked into his briefs. Once again, he forgot how to breathe.

“Are you very patient?”

Owen gasped that he was, yes. She nodded, her wise and sad eyes sparkling at him.

The woman led him away from the cafe by a couple blocks. Distantly, he thought about the appointment he was missing, a study date with classmates. The two of them turned right, off the main street, then left, into the restaurants, and then she stopped at a heavy glass doorway between a pizza place and a Chinese restaurant. She produced keys, unlocked the door, and held it open for Owen. Immediately there was a carpeted staircase, old and shallow, and he climbed this with a little difficulty at first, but he rapidly adjusted. At the second floor the woman urged him up one more. He waited for her between two dark brown doors and she opened one and ushered him inside.

“I have a meeting to go to,” she said, dropping her keys in a bowl by the door and pulling off her cardigan. “I’m afraid it’s rather long, but if you’re as patient as you said, we can get to know each other during it. Would you like that?”

Owen started to say yes, but she was prying off her boots and unbuttoning the front of her skirt.

“Come here.” The woman stood before a small dining table. She gripped the back of a chair and turned it slightly toward him. It took five strides to reach the chair, and he slowly sat down in it, watching her. He didn’t even know what to ask.

She parted his knees with her thigh, and she knelt on the end of the chair, gently resting against his crotch. The charcoal nylons stretched and paled over her skin; his thighs were wrapped in blue denim, and something told him to give her leg a squeeze with his thighs, which he did.

She wasn’t paying attention. She had twisted the blue vial from her necklace, and she lowered it to Owen’s face. “Open up,” she whispered, and there was no hesitation in his mind as he opened his jaws as wide as they could go. She smirked cutely at him, then her own lips parted as she carefully dipped the vial to deliver a drop upon his tongue. This done, she smiled and reassembled her necklace; she stood back and unzipped her skirt, letting it collapse around her ankles.

The fluid tasted like electricity and blueberries. Owen liked it, so much so that he wanted to savor it rather than gulp it down. He let saliva pool up, and the droplet diffused and spread throughout his mouth. Now he could smell blueberries, and his mouth tingled. Not like Pop Rocks: it tingled like someone was running a gentle current of electricity through his gums and around his tongue. It was slightly alarming but also a little thrilling, and when he remembered to pay attention to the things going on around him, the world had changed.

The seat of the chair was a broad wooden platform that stretched around in all directions. His legs no longer hung over the edge of it but stuck out straight ahead of him. They were bare, too: what happened to his clothes? He looked around the glossy surface of the varnished chair and couldn’t see his clothes anywhere. When he looked up, the woman was dangling his shirt between her fingertips, letting it fall easily to the floor.

She was also a hundred feet tall. She loomed over the chair like a skyscraper. Her knees, her round thighs were coated in an extremely detailed weave of nylons, and he could study every feature without trouble. It was actually harder to take in all of her at once. Owen had to keep moving his head to look at one thigh, then the other, and then up at her butt… It seemed she’d turned around, turned away from him, and her huge hands had tugged the tremendous tights down, and now two pale and soft planets of flesh hovered above him. They nestled closely together, forming a narrow, dark crack at the top that ran down to fuzzy, thick lips. And they all descended from the sky to embrace him.

“Don’t hurt me,” Owen whispered to no one.

But there was no pain at all. There were two beautiful buttocks that shone upon him, lowering to the seat to settle on either side. There were two thick, warm, giving folds of sweet flesh that covered his body, almost kissing him. No, definitely kissing him, smooching him, getting him wet. They loved him, this was clear, and he found he loved them too. They loved each other for a long time, it seemed, until the woman finally tugged up her panties and tights, secured him within her loving crotch, fastened her skirt around her waist and finished getting dressed for her meeting.

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