. she remembers my name, my ‘real’ name.Thus I get to stay, straightening desks and picking up wadded paper and left behind pencils and a book or ...two. We strike up a conversation and she tells me that she is new to the city, moved from Charleston. She graduated two years ago and had been looking for a teaching position since, taking this one mainly as a last resort. I understood fully.I told her that I lived about a mile from here all my life and my father had died a few years ago. She said. It was a warm day, the beginning of the semester actually, and she was wearing just a plain white t-shirt. The heat of the day, added to the exertion of moving was making her sweat, and it looked good on her. The way she would lick her lips to catch the falling drops of sweat, the way her shirt clung to her body. She was, of course, trying for a cheaper rate from the movers (and I think she got it), but it had no less of an effect on me. She knew she was hot, and she was far from over the. He actually looked alert and rugged behind his scruffy, medium, grayish-brown beard and hair, which made him look interesting. I could tell by the glare in his eyes that he liked what he saw when I opened the door. I noticed how he immediately scanned me from head to toe the same way I did to him. He didn’t smile after I greeted him, but overall, he was respectful, so I let him into the room. As soon as he entered the room, I felt his cigarette smell, but since he wasn’t actually smoking, I. He prolonged my torture when the only thing I wanted was for him to fill me up again. I whimpered and began attempting to push back against him, but the hands on my hips kept me still. Soon I began moaning and whimpering, squirming. I wanted him-No-I needed him to fill me up again. To fuck my brains out until I came all over his cock once again. The only thought that registered with my brain was, more! Beg. What? I responded. He quickly thrust into me, causing me to moan again before pulling.