With my tongue swirling her clit and my nose trying to bury itself in her slit, I started banging her ass like a bongo. She wailed indignantly, but that only made me go harder. Not that she tried to stop me. The closest Taylor came to resistance was when her legs turned to jelly as she came. "Told you," she panted, "you brought me over here to fuck me." She was on her knees now, her face planted back in the couch cushions. Two fingers slid inside her, grazing her inner tightness. "Feels to me like you came over here to get fucked." Her hips pumped slowly back against my hand. "You're the one who's making me do this, asshole." My fingers slid in and out of her like a hot knife through butter. Warm, soft, melty, fuckable butter. "You mean, making you come? Because you're welcome. I'll admit this isn't what I was aiming for when I set out to touch my students' lives, but... I suppose this will have to do." "Mothafucka you trying to act like you settling?" The snarl on her face as sh

With our ninety-second bout of love-making already over, I rolled her off and hauled myself into a sitting position. She slipped a finger between her legs, sniffing at the traces of cum she dredged up. "I think I'm gonna take a shower, Cassie." "Oh, yeah. I probably should, too, right? Do you want me to shower with you? I remember one time when I was in middle school I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and I saw the TV was on so I went to see if I'd left it on because I didn't wanna get yelled at, but it was my dad, and he was asleep, but there was this porn on the TV, and it was shower sex. I didn't watch it for long, but now showers always sorta make me think of sex. I guess that's weird, huh? But they're such a naked place. That's my favorite place to masturbate, too. It can be hard not to lose my balance, but that's part of what I like about it, the challenge. I can't just GO GO GO because I'd slip and fall, so I sort of have to take my time, which is cool.

"I really like this position, I think. My behind is my good side, everyone says, so it feels kinda sexy to be showing it to you. And like, with my face mushed up against the wall like this, I can close my eyes and let my imagination help, too. Not that I need imagination man. Honestly, I think I so prefer you to him. Your cock is so hard in my cha-cha it's like a rock. But warm. And awesome. And moving so fast! Wow! Mmm. You know, I don't think I ever said thank you? I mean it. Thank you, Mr. Canon. I might have gone years before I let a boy do all this, and it's just the best. I swear I'm not just sucking up! I could do this every day. I mean, not tonight, because I have this group project for econ we're working on and I'll be lucky to get home by curfew as it is. Though hey! You could tell Mom to let me stay out past curfew. We could do another sleepover, and we could do as much sex stuff as you want! Man, that'd be awesome. I really like sleepovers anyway, and getting to pleasure y

Her tone conveyed an unspoken certainty that if the answer was yes, she'd walk out the door and proposition the first boy who walked past her in the hallway. Be a whore, spread her legs because I said it might amuse me. God, this much power over a person... it was heady. "It's not," I assured her. "I'm only trying to give advice, such as it is. Though really, the best thing for it is to just go home, take care of things yourself, and one of these days we'll get together and have some fun. After last night, I just need some time to recuperate." "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. Just... go home, do it there. Yeah. That's a good idea." Her eyes drifted shut, her words slowly transmuted into mumbles. "Don't think about it. Not a whore. Masturbate at home. He'll have fun with me soon. God, be soon..." Right before my grading regained my attention, I saw it. Again. "Abbie... you're masturbating again." "No I'm...!" She caught herself, pulling the guilty hand away with the other. "Fuck!

Caesar salad. That made sense, I supposed. In my head, it seemed like cops would eat something with more protein. I guess you didn't keep a body like Louisa Barbour's wolfing down double quarter pounders for lunch. She was a skinny little thing. Fit, yes, but not a lot of meat on her. A shame. With a face like that, she could have broken some hearts. More of them, anyway. Instead, it looked like the one heart she was most focused on seemed very much intact. That felt good, knowing I'd patched things up between my two lunchmates. Of course, it was only because of me that they'd had their quarrel to begin with. Nothing like ordering your bodyguard to forgive and forget to do the trick. At least when your bodyguard followed any order you gave her. Not that I'd gone full "obey my every command" level of compliance, but having her hyper-focused on making me happy had nearly the same effect. Better yet, it preserved her autonomy, obviating the need to micromanage her. Taylor, Abbie and Ca