Like most men, I guess, I’d often wondered what semen would taste like but never had the courage to taste it - my own or another man’s! A bit salt... and definitely runny. While it wasn’t particularly pleasant, I felt a frisson of perverse excitement at this overt evidence of my submission to this woman who’d all but cast a spell over me.Walking to the couch where I’d left my clothing, she picked up the pile and took them with her. As she left the room to shower and change, she spoke over her. But the feeling of being watched persisted. It was such a powerful feeling that it made George feel uncomfortable. Sipping his beer, George looked around the rest of the barroom. Besides the bartender and his cronies at the far end of the room, there were a few other customers sitting at tables s**ttered around the small room. There didn’t seem to be anyone watching him. Was he becoming paranoid? No, he didn’t feel scared or nervous, it just seemed very intense sense of being observed. It made. I held my breath and tears ran down my face. Once again I watched as it reached for my breast. I could see its finger prints caressing them as my nipples grew harder. I didn’t want to like it anymore. I didn’t want this thing pleasuring me. I wanted it to go away. So I shut my eyes and hoped that it would leave. With that I heard a sinister laugh, as if it was toying with me. Just then my mouth opened wide and he shoved its cock inside. It didn’t feel like a normal cock. It stretched my mouth. Her hair was tied in plaits, her skirt came to just below her knees, a blazer and blouse covered her from the pit of her throat to her waist, and long white socks from her ankles to her knees. And worse, if that wasn't bad enough, beneath these clothes, she wore a bra and knickers. In fact only her knees and hands were exposed to the summer sun.The other students regarded her with a mixture of pity and humour, unable to snatch their gaze away from her. Why had Wendy agreed, indeed, even.