I felt those fingers cup my balls as hot most lips began to ride my cock in an ever faster and more energetic rhythm until there was nothing but that ...outh and those fingers making me quietly groan in extreme pleasure. I quickly looking down to see that the tablecloth was still covering my lap. I briefly noticed that there was movement under the cloth as if a head was bobbing against it. Then as I blew my load I looked over at Cheryl beside me. She looked at me and smiled. I couldn't believe. “Yeah, good one Jean.” He tried out my name for the first time, pausing as if tasting it, seeing if he liked the feel of it on his tongue. It seemed that he did because he smiled again, wider this time. “I read them too,” he said. “They’re good.” Who said the art of conversation is lost? The exquisite torture of our first exchange – if that’s what you can call it – was mercifully snuffed when some more students arrived for class and we fell back into our gender roles of pretending each other. More

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