He’d looked at me several times during class hours; he’d even smiled at me. “Oh, Mr. Mitro,” I moaned, not being able to stop his name from sl...pping through my lips. He was a Greek God in my eyes and all I wanted was for him to slip his sturdy fingers between my legs and caress my unused body. I imagined his cock slipping between my lips and reaching the spots I never could with my fingers. Even though I was lying with most of the bathwater covering my hips I could feel my pussy being wet. I. Jerking your head away, at him you then frown and glare. Your eyes narrow, full of one question."You think I do not know when a slut needs to cum?" He laughs at you, softly, just barely derisively, but worst of all knowingly. Again you resume fighting as his thumbnail digs deeper into your tender clit. He inserts his fingers into you harder, in time adding a third and curling that one, too. You could not decide which sensation to focus on; the pain in your clitoris as he ravages the tender bud,. More

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