I push in a second finger, feeling how tight she is around me, and I suck. I suck her clit, her labia. I push my tongue in along my fingers and keep going, feeling her get wetter. Pulling on my hair, her breaths quicken, her moans becoming louder. My fingers stroke the front wall inside
Alexandra Ravensbrook
her as I find that sweet spot that will send fireworks through her.
And it does.
It's a sight to behold, watching this beautiful woman, her hair splayed around her, her cheeks flushed and lips parted, breasts heaving with her breathing as she comes apart on my face. Her thighs shake and her hips lift as she lets out, “Oh my fucking God! Don't stop!”
I would do this every day if she let me; it’s so fucking hot. I feel the pressure building in my balls as I continue to lick and suck on her pussy and her clit, keeping the pressure up. My hips continue to grind into the bed, and I can’t stop myself now; I’m too far gone. “I’m gonna come,” I gasp.
“Come for me, James. Give it to me,” she pants. She
arches her back and screams a long and drawn-out, “Fuck!” as she comes.
Her arousal soaks my face, and I can't hold back anymore. I feel my balls tighten and my dick start to throb as I come hard into the sheets, my cum forming a sticky patch across my stomach and the bedsheets, my breathing ragged and laboured now.
Isabelle’s entire body relaxes, and her legs drop from around my head. We lay there for several minutes just
Yes, Miss
basking in the post-orgasmic glow, knowing we've crossed a line we can never go back from.
Alexandra Ravensbrook
Chapter 24
Isabelle
The rest of the weekend passes in a haze. We didn’t take things further that night because I make it a rule; I won’t have sex with someone who wants to submit until we’ve gotten to know each other—and our boundaries— much better. I can’t believe I came so close to breaking my own rule. The way his body felt against mine was so right, so safe.
Like a home I didn’t even know I had.
I need to know James will honour my limits as much as I’ll honour his. He had asked about meeting up the next day, but I want to give him space to think through the whole situation. I don’t want him thinking only with his cock and diving in headfirst.
He clearly has hang-ups about sex and his ex-wife, and I need to understand where his head’s at. I can’t throw myself into a relationship or dynamic without knowing where we’re both at. I can’t let myself get hurt again.
Yes, Miss
We also need to think carefully about our relationship at work. The phrase ‘don’t shit on your own doorstep’ springs to mind, and honestly, I start doubting if we’re even doing the right thing. I’m still so new to teaching, and he was my teacher. I don’t want anyone to suspect anything untoward—apart from all the filthy thoughts I’ve had about him and what I’d do to him given half a chance.
Instead, I sent him away with a checklist of limits and some reading. Ever the teacher, he now has homework, and I want him to think carefully about what he wants. It isn’t fair to either of us to rush into something and watch it explode spectacularly if it all goes wrong.
Which it could do.
And then we’ll both be hurt. That thought kills me inside. He’s already so damaged by his ex-wife’s nasty opinions; I couldn’t bear it if I was the source of more pain.
Curled up on the armchair, I dial Victoria’s number. It’s Sunday afternoon, and I know she’s only just waking up after a night at the club. She answers on the fourth ring.
“What? This better be worth it,” she mumbles, clearly still half-asleep.
Laughing, knowing full well she’s scowling and itching to smack me, I reply, “Well, hello to you too, my happy camper!”
Alexandra Ravensbrook
“Oh my God, you got laid!” she shrieks, suddenly wide awake and thirsty for gossip. I hear rustling in the background and a distant grunt of disapproval. Clearly, she isn’t alone. “Hang on, I’m getting my robe and grabbing coffee. I need all the details… Oh shit, it was your teacher, wasn’t it? I knew it. Who could resist that ass and those tits?” she rattles off. Cupboard doors slam, and cups clatter against the counter as I seize the chance to actually say something.
“Vic, okay, breathe,” I say. “Yes, it was him. No, I didn’t get laid. Well, kind of… but not.”
