Remembrance
- 2 years ago
- 20
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fingers clenched tight at the clear plastic casing of the pen till knuckles were white with effort. the effort not to scream from remembered pleasure. flesh gone soft and sore throbbed with molten lava of heat that swelled soft tissue into one central sensitive button. moisture pooled between shaking thighs clenched together under an old desk, hoping no one noticed the restrained self-control. they rubbed togeter making all areas around her core slick with juices of her want. each movement was a jar of sensation that thrusted into her wetness. walls grasped at the hardness that with each penetration brought her close to the edge. it took amounts of focusing not to scream out – hoping that no one suspected her real reason behind the spasms that shuddered through her tightly clenched body. hope was fiery torch in her system, hope that all the eyes on her were not on her, because it felt like they all were.
she could feel the wetness slipping down her sweat soaked thighs. her pussy was wet as each time she tried to write the notes down on her piece of paper, the feeling of flesh pounding between her thighs each time hitting and grinding against her clit. her legs remembered being wrapped around her over’s body, and they trembled wanting to clench around that lifeline again. but he wasn’t here, but her body remembered. and it was reliving it now, with or without her consent. her body CRAVED to be penetrated fully, fucked literally, made to arch, and cum till her voice was beyond hoarse. it not only craved it, it WANTED and NEEDED.
teeth dug into dry lips, as other lips hungry with ravenous appetite moved around a memory that was only, night two hours ago. knuckles were singing with pain, a body too caught up in pleasure was ignoring. it took all control not to scream out loud, as her body brought its’ self to climax. juices clung and pooled and slipped down her as she felt herself go limp from desire, from the memory of being fucked so good. to her classmates it looked as her fever broke, but to those sitting close they smiled because they could see the moisture pooling between her legs, and sliding down the taut flesh. the sweet smell of her musk filled their nostrils, making many want to lick it up, but they didn’t because they would wait till the end of class. a small breath escaped, a sound of relief from the sexual burning running like a forest fire that was finally quenched.
He parked the car where he always did, at the end of a row of gravestones near the back of the cemetery. He got out slowly, holding on to the door frame for support. He reached over and grabbed his cane, then closed the door and started across the grass toward the last gravestone at the end. He was shakier than usual today, and he had to stop and steady himself, to get his heart to slow down. "I'm coming, Miss Whetstone," he said, starting off again. This was a big day, and he was trying...
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