Forget Math, I’ll Just Be a Hooker Now

So you know that moment when your brain just completely checks out of a problem set and you realize big tits blowjob is the only thing you can actually focus on with any real clarity, that is exactly how my afternoon unraveled; I was sprawled on the bed, surrounded by crumpled notes and a half-eaten bag of chips, already bored out of my mind, and honestly, the textbook might as well have been written in another language, so instead of fighting it, I just stretched out all lazy-like, letting him watch me from the doorway for a beat before I reached for his belt, and what began as a casual, almost mischievous decision instantly turned into something far more consuming when I wrapped my lips around him and looked up, using my tongue to trace the underside of his length before taking him deeper, feeling him slide past the back of my throat in that familiar, slick rhythm that had me gagging just slightly—but in the best way possible—and his fingers tangling in my hair and pulling taut in a little, sharp tug; my eyes watered, my jaw ached in that sweet, delicious way when he pushed a little further, almost going all the way in, testing how much I could really take when I grabbed his thighs and kept my neck tilted upward, drawing it out greedily, and then he pulled me up and off of him with this low, humming growl that echoed in the quiet room, my mouth feeling gloriously swollen and slick, and before I could blink he spun me around and pressed my face down into the mattress, everything shifted fast; my hands clutched the blankets and my ass was already up in the air, swaying automatically when he aligned himself behind me and pushed in from the hilt in a single, agonizingly slow slide that made me bite my lip and gasp as I felt every hidden sensitive spot within me, and when he began to slam deeper with a wet, rhythmic sound, it was like he was telling me without words how perfectly we fit together, the pressure building with each thrust until a buzzer rang in my skull for some lost equation thought but there was zero space because none was allowed, all algebra and calc becoming transparent in the clapping, sweaty sounds, emboldening me to push back and meet his rhythm, finding a desperate, beautiful sync that felt like a lesson learned, a test passed, until we both crashed in a shuddering, cooling heap on the rented mattress, my heart pounding and a smile creeping across my face because math could wait, but this, this was the only distraction that ever made sense.