Tilting my hips to meet those fingers, I yearn for his touch. He continues to draw exquisite figures, barely perceptible, but I know precisely where t...ose hands are. One hand caresses my breasts, first one then another, fingers rubbing circles around the aureola, thumbs rubbing back and forth across my nipples. Oh, and that other hand! Fingertips brushing the very edge of my curls around my labia and then back off. Again and again staying just a little longer each time, getting just a little. Oh, what time will you need to be home?"I looked sheepishly at the floor. "Well I don't have a dad and mom works on the weekends so I really don't need to be home much before six."She stared at me for a long time. "You didn't tell your mother that you were serving detention — did you?"I shook my head no and could feel the tears starting to run down my cheeks. "I... I just couldn't... my mom thinks I'm such a good student and I didn't want to disappoint her." Mrs. Hunter pulled me into her arms. More

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