Louise was worried. My now husband, the man who had fucked her last night, fucked her better than anyone before him ever had, the man who she had chatted with online every night for months, wasn’t online tonight. She was worried he’d decided he didn’t want her to talk to him, didn’t want her to fuck him. With sex so great, she wasn’t having that.

In stark contrast to the previous night, she had taken hours getting ready. The perfect clothes (just a touch slutty), the perfect hair (loose, but clipped out of the way so it wouldn’t brush her face as she fucked), the perfect make up (light touch), not a hair out of place anywhere (she had got her best friend to shave her cunt and ass, making it even smoother than last night). She had a cleavagey bra, hold up stockings and tiny red panties, pre-used off her floor. She thought the panties would really underline why she was there, and would look really nice on his floor instead. She sniffed them before settling on them: they had a slight fragrance of her cunt, despite not being worn for some time. The smell of her own cunt turned her on. Wasn’t it normally men that got turned on by the smell of a juicy cunt? Anyway, she hoped he would appreciate the sheer tininess of them, and given how excited she was, she thought they would have a stronger fragrance by the time he got to handle them, and she hoped he’d love it.

She strode purposefully across the campus to his college, her cunt moistening as she got closer to his college, closer to his cock. But she forgot it was after midnight, and the college was closed, access only for residents via the porters, and she wasn’t a resident.

The porter wouldn’t let her in and definitely wouldn’t tell her which room my now husband was in. She did briefly consider offering him a blow job to get the info, but soon ruled that out. There was only one cock she was getting in her mouth, and it wasn’t a porter’s.

And then she saw him, my now husband, her chosen fuck, walking towards his college at pace. In the dim light of the streetlamps, she saw his face light up when he saw her. He came up to her, put his arm round her waist with his hand grabbing a handful of ass, and pulled her close to him, kissing her deeply, his tongue invading her mouth. She kissed back, her tongue jousting with his. They kissed for a few minutes, before breaking and after he invited her in, they retreated into his college room, past the porter she didn’t need to blow, and past a row of girls on their knees giving blow jobs to a lucky row of male students sitting on a bench seat on the landing. She briefly thought about them joining the end of the row, but decided that was for another night – tonight, she wanted to be more private.

His room was tidier than hers, and she said so, although that was somewhat of a low bar. With a glint in her eye, she told him she thought there was something missing though. He looked confused, confusion that turned into smirking as she put her hands up either side of her skirt, removed her tiny red panties (whilst not flashing her cunt at him), and with an evil glint in her eye, she ceremoniously with a flourish dropped them on his floor, uttering how his room was now much better. He had a big smile she thought was infectious. This was such a good idea.

She sat on the bed next to him, snuggled up, telling him how she was worried he wasn’t online. She was heartened to hear the reason. He was with Kate, agreeing with her that they wouldn’t fuck in the future now that she had her boyfriend and he had Louise who he wanted to fuck a load more. The man snuggled up to Louise told her he’d freed himself up to fuck her over and over. If she wanted it.

Louise tried to act cool. But she wasn’t. She was overjoyed, her cunt craving his cock and his tongue. She really wanted it. Of course she fucking wanted it.

Losing her cool cover, she blurted out that she wanted fucking every single day. She wanted him cumming inside her every single day. And as late at night was their time, she thought they should fuck late at night. And then first thing in the morning after they wake up together. And then in a gap between lectures. She told him how she wanted to smell of sex in lectures, to have a messy cummy cunt in lectures. She told him she was his, her body was his, her cunt and tits were his, her orgasms were his, her panties were his, as long as he kept fucking her, as long as he kept her aroused, as long as he kept making her cum. She needed a lot of servicing, her cunt needed so much work, it was insatiable. She’d clearly thought about this more than he had. His plan was to just fuck her as often as he could, as many times a day as he could, but he realised she wanted more, that she needed more. He’d unleashed this sexual beast, this orgasming slut who liked her tits manhandled, her ass gripped, her cunt filled over and over. He’d unleashed that, their limited time together making it all the more frenzied, and he was determined to service her how she needed. He wanted that. She needed that.

But he was honest with her: he had just fucked Kate, a final goodbye fuck. Louise went from a bit pouty to very mischievous. Having told her that his cock had another fuck in it, and as it would be a second fuck, it would be long and hard, it dawned on her that his cock would taste of Kate’s cunt juices, and she found herself bizarrely wanting to taste Kate.

Louise grabbed at his cock through his trousers and squeezed and rubbed it a little. It started to spring into life. She undid his belt and button and dropped his trousers to the floor, his boxers following almost immediately. Then, she sat his on the bed, pushed his legs wide and dropped to her knees between his legs. Remembering what he told her about blow jobs, she pulled his tits up out of the bra and dress, using the bra to hold her tits up, and tweaking her nipples to get them hard.

Then, she put his cock to her lips, opening them slightly and running her tongue round his glans. Louise could definitely taste Kate, and she loved her taste. Whilst systematically licking and sucking every molecule of Kate’s taste off his cock, Louise found herself wondering what her cunt tasted like to lick out, and realising why men loved licking women out so much. She wasn’t bi or anything, but did find herself wanting to lick Kate’s cunt. She could dream.

She did dream as she finished working his cock with her mouth and tongue, but his ever-hardening cock woke her up out of the daydream, and jolted her into starting her plan. Operation Stake Her Claim.

She got up off the bed, opened her bag and pulled out a scrunched-up pair of white lace panties and pulled them on, again, not showing him her cunt as she did it. He was a little bemused, but his cock stayed rock solid. Why remove one pair and replace them with another?

These ones she had worn for most of the day, and had wanked herself in them a number of times during the day, dreaming of fucking him again. They were damp, ripe, and very fragrant. She hoped he’d smell how ripe they were, she hoped he’d realise how much she’d wanked into them, she hoped he’d breathe in her intoxicating aroma tonight and in the future. It was all him. She’d wanked over and over because of him.

You see, she had had a really strange idea before she left her room, an idea to put her stamp on his room, to put her claim on him, and it involved her panties. Those dirty panties on her floor. She thought if she wore them again (unwashed obviously – sod that for a lark) and deposited them on his floor, he’d have her dirty panties all the time, something to smell to remind him of her and so be horny all the time, ready to fuck her all the time.

She didn’t really know what she was doing, or why? What made her want to give him worn panties? I mean she loved her panties and she wanted him to love her panties too. She felt it connected her with him, and more than anything, for the time they had left, she wanted to be connected with him.

Although she couldn’t get the thought of tasting Kate’s cunt out of her head, and she didn’t want the second-hand taste of it out of her mouth. She’d never done anything with a woman, but she loved the taste, the idea. Perhaps there was chance of a taste of juicy cunt in the mix.