I part my lips against her clitoris and suck it desperately. Jordan’s hands move to my hair, running through it as I nibble at her, brimming with desire and anticipation at the sound of her pleasure. I stroke her with my fingers as I slide my tongue inside her; her hips move against me. Her taste is in my mouth, her breathing filling my mind. She won’t stop touching me, turning me on; I’m aching with unbearable pain, but I can’t stop. I want to hear her enjoying this. I want to feel her as she lets herself go, loses control.
I want to her remember what it means to have my mouth on every inch of her, every time she calls me Mr Kerry; every time she pretends there’s nothing between us.
She moves against my mouth as my fingers slowly start to slip inside her.
“Come on, Headmistress,” I whisper between her thighs, before biting gently her labia.
“Oh, my God…”
She moves manically above me, trying to increase the pressure of my touch.
“Show me how much you like it.”
She brings her hands to the back of my neck and pulls me in towards her, making me feel it – and making herself feel it, too. The headmistress comes, wildly and freely, a few murmurs of‘fuck’escaping her lips. I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I kiss her slowly, my mouth never growing tired. I’m nowhere near satisfied, still hungry for more, as she pants heavily, her head leaning against the back of the sofa.
I climb slowly back up her body, and she slowly lifts her head. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are glowing.
She’s not tired yet, either.
“Okay. I like wearing my glasses,” she says, making me burst into laughter.
I slide my hands under her arse and lift her up, as she grabs onto my neck.
“Don’t worry, Headmistress. I’ve got you.”
I head for her bedroom, my fingers pressing into her flesh, her nails digging into my back.
“We could’ve stayed on the sofa.”
“I know how much you love to ride,” I say, teasingly, as she rolls her eyes. “And here,” I say, dropping her onto the mattress, “there’s more space.”
“I never liked it,” she says, her voice wavering, uncertain.
“What?” I ask her, sliding on top of her body and stretching her out over the bed.
“Riding.”
The awkwardness is palpable.
“Maybe you never had the right horse,” I say, trying to salvage the situation. I get the impression that this is a much more delicate subject than she’s letting on.
“Maybe,” she says.
She strokes my face with both hands, before pulling it down to meet hers. “Maybe there are certain people who bring out the best in us.”
I smile. I couldn’t agree more.
“You definitely bring out a lot in me.”
She laughs, and I press down on her lips.
“I can’t wait to bring out everything you’re hiding inside.”
“How do you know I’m hiding anything?” she asks playfully.
“I don’t know. Just a hunch.”
