Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
However, nothing I saw on TV, or heard about from others, can compare to what’s happening right before me.
I’ve never witnessed anything more stunning.
My stomach tightens and I can’t tear my eyes away. I’m glued to him, watching as he works himself, resting my head against the cool doorframe, too scared to even breathe. The way his hand moves up and down with such might, his face twisted in pure satisfaction.
“Yes, suck it,” he moans at whatever fantasy is in his head. I can almost feel the wetness leaking onto my underwear. His hand increases its pace, moving so fast it almost creates a blur. I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about as he does this.
I lean in, trying to get a better look, cursing the island in the middle of the room that blocks most of my view.
He suddenly stops, groaning as he squeezes himself tightly, the head of him red and swollen. I’m now entirely being help up by the doorframe, pressing my legs together tightly, seeking just the tiniest bit of friction, desperately aching for my fingers.
This is easily the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
He’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
A small bit of fluid escapes from the tip, and I push my feet down into the floor, ensuring they weigh me down, because the need to lick that dot of liquid is so damn strong and overpowering.
“Oh my God! Yes!” He gives himself one more firm squeeze before his hand starts moving again, rubbing up and down, faster and faster. He’s grunting and groaning, and his mouth falls open wide.
The veins in his arm become more pronounced, matching his veins below, but I can only see the very tip of him, thanks to his pants and that stupid island. But despite the obstructions, he looks impossibly large, and so thick, not far from the men I saw on TV that time. I really should leave, this I know, but I can’t take my eyes off of him. I want to see more of him. All of him.
“I’m so close,” his hips thrusts into his palm and I’m all but squirming in my own discomfort. He growls roughly and I close my eyes, committing his sounds to memory. Something I’ll surely remember night after night as he continues to star in my own fantasies.
“Here it comes,” his voice strains, his hand working overtime. “Oh, oh, here it comes! Luci!”
My eyes dart open at my name, my heart picking up speed, like it’s trying to win a marathon against itself. I thought he said my name because he saw me, but his eyes are still closed as fluid pours out of him.
Oh my god, he’s thinking of me.
“Oh yeah, Luci! Take it!” He’s grunting as he thrusts into his hand, erupting with a continuous force.
I never knew that much comes out. I’m still transfixed on him as he stands in place, gasping for air, attempting to catch his breath, pulling on himself slowly, until he eventually leans over in the opposite direction and grabs some tissues off his desk.
I slide out of the doorway and head straight to the bathroom, splashing cool water on my face in attempt to calm down. When that doesn’t work, I practically drown myself in it.
Unable to get his image out of my mind, I lock myself in a stall and sit on the toilet, spreading my legs wide. I reach down, into my skirt and then underwear, feeling the wetness. It’s never been this bad before. I apply a little bit of pressure, trying to make the ache go away, fighting the urge, but it’s no use.
I have to alleviate it.
I close my eyes and see him, his big penis, the swollen tip, and the way he stroked himself. His moaning and grunting, and the all that liquid! The way it leaked out of him, with only a small bit at first before shooting out so forcefully. I remember the way he thrust into his hand as he emptied himself all over the floor. The way he kept on coming... and how he said my name, “Oh god, Luci! Take it!”
Me. He was thinking of me!
I can’t help but wiggling my fingers; my touch more familiar this year than it’s ever been. I don’t even have to circle very fast, like I usually do. Just a little rub, oh yes, and I’m there, before I barely even got started, extending my legs as my own orgasm rips through me, coming harder than I ever have before.
I redden when I walk into chemistry. He doesn’t look my way, and it hits me that he’s probably still preoccupied with what happened this morning. I forgot about not only his admission as to why he called my house yesterday, but the fact that he knows I walk by his classroom between periods just to see him.