And does she know that at his college thirty miles away, her husband is still at it? Milo stopped thinking of Teresa as being just his foxy teacher. Now she was his Inamorata-to-be. Milo was proud of his biographical essay. He worked hours on it, honing it, double-checking all the facts. He wrapped a slick folder around it. When he handed it in to Teresa he told her how hard he had worked on it and he thought she would like it. ‘I look forward to reading it’, she’d said. Milo wished he could be a fly on the wall when she did. The thought made him semi-hard. The following night Teresa sat down to read and grade the papers. She decided to read Milo’s first and was shocked as soon as she opened the cover and saw the title: ‘The Good Life of Teresa, English Teacher’. Her jaw hung small open in awe as she asian read on. She must have said ‘Oh My God’ to herself twenty times as she read. It was right on the money, accurate as hell, she thought. But how did he do it? Old friends, lovers, good and bad. Quotes from her high school yearbook. Her senior prom. Things she’d had published. The tattoo on her ass. And things she’d tried to forget, among them her wet t-shirt adventure, her affair with Henry and her out-of-wedlock pregnancy. She was softly crying as she finished reading it, angry and miffed and flattered and impressed all at the same time. She felt violated somehow, like Milo had driven a microscope into her soul. She read it amateur again and realized she was sweating. She read no more papers that night. In class the next week Teresa gave Milo a stern look and a shake of her head when she handed his paper back to him. He felt a brief chill before he opened the folder. There was a big A written at the top of page one. Just below it her comments read: Well-written and accurate (too accurate!). But you could have found a better subject. Teresa hardly looked his way throughout the whole period as the class read through and discussed several of the students’ papers. His was not chosen for review. Milo stared at her crotch and played with tits himself for fifty minutes. His dick was half-turgid at the end of class. He hoped she didn’t notice when he stopped to speak to her on his way out of the classroom. “You’re not mad at me, are you?” he asked timidly. Teresa’s lips coiled into a smile. “No, I’m not mad public at you, Milo. But I was surprised. Just after I remove my fore and middle finger from her throat again and then out of mouth completely. My eyes tits snapped open and rolled back in my head until you can only see the whites. Rachel took me by the hand, and I clung to her like a frightened daughter as she guided me through the threshold. My hand went inside my shorts and started stroking my very hard cock. Her blubbering stopped, overcome by the irresistible sensation of a asian huge doggy cock punched into her already well-reamed rectum. “She's just so passive, right? She sat her stuff on the deck without looking at us students. I looked in the mirror. She chuckled before continuing. That done, I needed to take care of the school. I guess I love her, but I have no intention of marrying her. "Oh I like flattery." she started to buck faster and faster in frenzied movements like public a pinball between bumpers and a low growl kept From on top of the grass hill, Jason had seen Evan looking, so he waved, but Evan didn't take his hands off the wheel. As he grunted, amateur small she leaned back, gradually stressing the spine.