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Strong fingers lace with mine as we amble beneath the oak canopy along the woodland track. The breeze carrying vestiges of the lazy summer – our summer – ruffles the tiny fair hairs on the back of my hand. Hairs that he’s brushed so often, my sharpened senses respond automatically, pulse quickening.The serenity is absurd compared with the firestorm of passion that has raged unchecked throughout his secondment. It can’t end. I won’t let it. But it must.Today.Winter without him seems impossible to contemplate and I tighten my grip as if it’ll make him stay. As if he’ll leave her and choose me, to enjoy timeless moments like this one. Just us. Our bubble. Connected.I roll my thumb around the sensitive skin between his thumb and forefinger. Feel him shudder. The same way I do when that web is pressed to my throat, tightening as he claims me. Takes me over. Pins me to the bed or the wall or wherever the fuck we happen to be, panties yanked aside, raging cock splitting me without mercy, relentlessly plundering my needy pussy Anadolu Yakası Escort as I gasp for air.He knows the exact pressure, the perfect grip that sets me off. Enough that panics me. Excites me. Makes me drip for him, every nerve ending rattling in my body, heightened as his hot breath snorts in my ear, almost taunting that he can breathe while I struggle.Fuck, he’s a dangerous man. I love it – him – so much that I ache when he’s lecturing. The same ache I’ll barely be able to contain when he’s three thousand miles away. Back in Vermont and his idyllic campus life. The adulation of his regular students. His vanilla wife who doesn’t get him like I do. Doesn’t let him use her like I do. His little fucktoy.Birds tweet from the gently swaying boughs above. My Converse are quiet, save for the occasional snap of a twig beneath the grips. Squirrels scamper, gathering acorns for the season ahead.I squeeze his palm, and he squeezes back, fingers firm against me. The texture of Anadolu Yakası Escort Bayan his skin is so different, emphasising the few years he has on me. The experience. That magnetic confidence, ably demonstrated last night as I stood naked in my dorm room, his skin brushing mine while he manoeuvred me with precision, securing bonds against my quivering frame.He trussed wrists to my torso, patiently passed the rope around my midriff and criss-crossed the ends to accentuate my heaving chest and proud nipples. My heart hammered as he worked up further, our gazes catching. Excitement surged behind his eyes as the loop bit into my neck. He dangled the ends over my shoulders alongside cascading chocolate tresses before spinning me to pull the rope between my legs, around my thighs and butt, tying it off beneath.I was open. Exhibited, while he circled his lewd artwork, appraising my form. As self-conscious as it made me, to be revered that way was electric.He’d looked at me Escort Anadolu Yakası that way our first night too. The attraction had been immediate, leading to the inevitable conclusion after a few weeks of classes. But that night in the throes of passion he’d brushed fingers over my throat and I’d arched into his touch. Later, in the afterglow, he’d asked me about it. I couldn’t answer, could only watch as he slowly brought his fingers back to my throat and squeezed ever so gently. He’d seen it in my eyes. Heard it in my sharp intake of breath. It was something I’d always been too shy to admit I needed and something he’d never been offered. I don’t know, maybe it takes one to recognise the other.He’d used his tie that night. My panties. Anything to restrain me, to display me. He’d asked a thousand questions and I’d answered him, the flush of embarrassment quickly giving way to the heat his words brought to my cheeks, the heat his palm brought to my flesh as he tested limits.But last night was different. More. When he unbuckled his wide belt and made me lick the tip, I quaked. Knew what was coming, moments before he paced behind me and massaged my bottom with those firm palms. Over and over, warming and preparing me. Then nothing. The agonising wait, until I caught the shadow of his raised arm projected onto the wall ahead of me. Followed by the strike.
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