molly jane

“Nobody ever did that,” she replied, not answering my question. “I have a class in 45 minutes and I’m a mess. And I still haven’t sucked your cock.” I was still on my knees behind Mrs. B., idly running my tongue along her taint. As I stood and grabbed my cock, I noticed that Mrs. B. had bent over further, her elbows on the desk. Her dress was up around her waist, revealing her pretty, cute ass and the legs I had lusted over all year. I knew instantly what I wanted. Mrs. B. started to stand upright, and I pushed her back down.

He’d already showered so his short messy hair had been combed back and was still damp. He was wearing his slacks and belt, but no button up shirt on yet. He liked to wait until his hair was a bit drier before he put it on. As he pulled cups and the coffee tin from the cupboards above, she couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles shifted on his back, the sparse long hairs that sprouted from his back and shoulders. He only got to the gyms on the weekends, but he walked around job sights a lot for his work, so he had a nice balance between muscle and leanness. Before last night she wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but now she sat there with her mouth open, staring like a dead fish.

Some time later—perhaps ten or twenty minutes, though I had no way to know for sure—a door opened in the wall I could see through my thighs. I hadn't even realized there was a door, until then.