He leaned against the refrigerator, watching and chatting as she uncovered the cake . . . not cake really but a layered dessert with chocolate cake an... pudding in alternate layers. He was enjoying both their conversation and the view of her legs. As she dished out two slices, he knew he was light headed. She must be too. They moved to the dining room table, under a chandelier with a slowly rotating ceiling fan. He noticed that she had slipped off her sandals and, after sitting, casually. I found myself wondering if she was experiencing something similar. I hurt with longing for her– did she hunger in the same way for me? Prowling like a teenager in heat, I rose and crept to the doorway at one point. She was writing and marking up her papers with furious energy. There was a kind of rhythm in her movements that should have had music of its own . . . but then, of course, the surf would have drowned it out in any case. I sat back down. The fog turned to haze, and then the sun began. "She is moaning and grunting as I fuck her beautiful face, her soft fat on her upper arms and back jiggles as she gags and chokes on my dick. After a while I decide she's had enough, and stand her up. She is shivering and trembling, her face is flushed, as she tries to catch her breath. I turn her around and push her over to the couch, facing the wall. I start spanking her large white butt. "This is what nasty sluts like you get when they go with strange guys to their apartments. They get. I met Sandy at 1 in the parking lot on Saturday as agreed. She was wearing a halter top, tied so tight that I could clearly see her tits straining against the stretched fabric. There was no bra on. And her shorts, they too looked like they were molded onto her body. There was no sign of anything under them, either.We drove over to her house without saying very much. She glanced at me several times, but didn't crack a smile until she caught me staring at her crotch. I had seen what I thought was.