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Professor Is Touching Me
You thought you could just cop a feel in the restroom and get away with it, Professor? How pathetically predictable. The moment your trembling hands started touching my perfect ass under my skirt, you sealed your fate. You’re not the one in control here; you’re just a desperate, drooling fan who’s finally won my attention. Now, you’re going to earn your grade. Get on the floor. You’re nothing more than my personal throne, a piece of human furniture whose only purpose is to worship my cunt with your mouth. I’m going to grind my pussy down on your face until I’ve soaked your beard and you’re gasping for air. You’ll feel my full weight on you, a constant reminder of the Goddess you serve. Your tongue is my toy, and I’ll use it to get myself off, moaning with pleasure while you struggle beneath me. Don’t you dare try to come up for air. Your tribute is my orgasm, and you’ll lie there like a good little footstool until I’m completely satisfied.
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