Why do I want to smack him and kiss him at the same time?
Biting my lip, I pretend to be irritated.Oh please. *insert eye roll* I wasnotdreaming about you. And your cock isn’t that legendary.
It is. But he doesn’t need to know that.
His answer is quick to come.It is andyou were. Because I was dreaming about you too.
“You were?” I ask out loud and he sighs again, shaking his head once.
So I take to the notebook and pen another note.What were you dreaming about?
Eating a peach.
I read his note two times. Then, three.
By the time I’m done reading it the fourth time, my thighs are clenching and I’m squirming in my chair. I’m also crinkling and folding the corner of my page with sweaty, trembling fingers.
Do I really taste like that?
He does his lip-lick thing when he reads my note and when he’s done reading, he shoots me a look. A hot blazing look, and I swallow.
Then he writes, pressing the tip of the pen really hard on the paper,You mean do you really taste like a ripe fruit? All sweet and soft and made of sugar that when I take a bite, juices spill out of you and run down my chin? Fuck yeah, you do.
I’m a mess down there.
A complete fucking mess. More than I was before. The wetness is seeping into my thong and going beyond it. Also I think I’m breathing too hard.
I’m breathing so loudly that the girls who are watching us still – I can feel their eyes – can hear me. They can tell that I’m on the verge of combusting and leaving my wetness in this chair.
My fruity, peachy, sugary wetness.
You have to stop talking like that,I write to him.
Then you should stop squirming like your peach is bursting to be eaten. You wet?he writes back.
My pen almost slips away from my grip when I answer,Yes. So much.
Yeah, I bet. I bet your pussy is all swollen and messy. Whining for me, isn’t she?
Yes, she is. She wants you.Iwant you. Are you hard?
Like fuck. I ache. And you come here, looking so daisy fresh, so innocent and so soft in your schoolgirl uniform. So unlike the bad girl you are. Who wants to flip her skirt and flash me her pussy. You want to, don’t you?
Yes, I want to.
That’s why I’m squirming in my chair while those girls are watching us and the rest of the world is absorbed in their homework. That’s why I want to tell him to meet me somewhere so I can show him how horny he makes me.
In fact, I’m even leaning against the table, searching for friction for my hard nipples as I reply,Yes. I wanna. I so, so wanna. When can we do it again?
I hear his pained chuckle and I notice that he’s even more golden now, shinier and more glistening.
His note says,I’m not going to have sex with you again right after I broke you in and made you bleed. I’m an asshole but I’m not a total bastard, Salem.
Again, I read his note multiple times before I can gather enough sense to look up at him. I can’t decide which I like more: him saying my name or writing it.
I guess I love it all. Just like I love him.
My darling, darling Arrow.
