All the time firmly anchored to his present reality. The lift doors finally opened and he entered the penthouse. He clacked noisily across th...e ocean of Egyptian tile and flung his jacket over the back of the vermillion ultra-suede five-piece that it had taken them seven months to deliver. “Music on. The Beatles. White Album.” He told the apartment and the music began. He had taken to listening to classical music lately, probably just a pretense of his high office but he didn’t. Tears were now streaming down my face as Mr. Skinner returned the cane to a box containing another dozen or so bamboo and willow rods in the corner, then sat behind his large desk.“Hopefully, Miss Simpson, you’ll have learnt your lesson and will now behave like the rest of the young ladies in this establishment or…if you continue to misbehave like a boy… I will have to punish you like a boy!” Exactly a week later I was sitting back outside his room with four fifth form boys, as we’d been. I got onto the bed and place my hands on either side of her hips grabbing onto the bikini and started sliding them down her long tanned legs revealing her sweet shaven pussy to me. I could tell she was really wet because as soon as I took them off some of her fluids started oozing out of her. “Hmm, you are very wet Hannah, why didn’t you tell me?” I asked her. “Umm I don’t know, I guess I was shy,” she replied. “Well I could have helped you earlier,” I told her. “Sorry Sam, its just that I had. Far off in the distance, she could see a distant flicker of lightning. The air was still, pensive. Nature seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for the cooling rain. The only sounds were the faint buzz of Sunday night traffic and a few indistinct human voices. The city, too, was waiting, hoping for relief.The clouds darkened, the lightning coming closer, faster. The distant rumble of thunder was giving way to louder crashes. The lights in the parking lot flickered on, bathing the balcony in.