I walked into the classroom one Friday, and there she was. I felt like a hot mess next to her in my short navy tartan skirt, white button up shirt, ri...pped stockings and boots. “Who’s that?” I immediately asked my teacher, Mr. Callum, as I sat down. “That’s the student teacher, Miss Rose.” She smiled the prettiest smile I’ve seen in my life and I sank into my chair. Over the next few weeks, nothing really happened. Ms. Rose seemed pretty quiet and shy and actually had a bit of trouble. His mind was detached from reason or conscious approach.There on the floor right behind the entrance door, they had both kissed each other. She smelled and tasted like nothing else, a taste that did not find satisfaction but fanned a hunger to something more, something that could not be satisfied with food, or stilled with reason.They both vowed to wait with what had now happened, both had dismissed their own promises. She was as eager to explore Roy and a fire that smoldered ever since she had. Just then, I felt her hand moveslowly beneath the blanket, she had resumed her masturbation.Feeling more bold now, I reached up to undo the buttons on her blouse, Ijust had to feel those large breasts without the hindrance of thefabric. My hand slipped inside, feeling the lacy bra she wore. Myfingers and palm trailed over her nipple and felt its hardness beneaththe tight confine."Oooo-ooo", Marie cooed, her right hand still moving beneath the blanket,"I like that", she whispered, still keeping. What if he enslaves her completely? Will she have to continue to play the part?His hand reaches under her skirt, and she squirms and moans as his fingers sink into her wet and helpless pussy. Pleasure rises in both her selves, and while only one falls deeper into the Dark abyss, it makes it harder to think clearly simply from the intensity.Before she understands what it happening, she is bent over his seat and taking his cock into her mouth. Her head bobs on his shaft, little muffled moans of.