I didn’t see anger, or hate, or rage of any kind. I wasn’t even sure if I saw him, the way he usually looked. He wore a kind of look of recognitio... on his face which made him appear different than the man who was my teacher. Yet the same dark brown eyes and ruffled, if not more messier hair, stared back at me. I imagined he’d raked his hands through his hair agonising over my story over and over.“Did, err...” my voice croaked. “Did you phone my father?”I expected the answer to be yes. I knew it. I gyrated my hips as he lubed my ass ready to receive his hard cock. I turned my head toward him and said fuck my ass and make me come like my husband can’t. He said he must be a right fucking mug having such a sexy whore as wife who goes out acting like a filthy slut getting fucked in her shaved puss and tight slut ass. I said he didn’t know he was married to a slut and that I got my kicks out being fucked by lots of strangers, sometimes even gang banged by loads of cocks at the same time. I. More

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