I thought he was made of stronger stuff.Neil Gill calls a halt to lesson and collects in everyone's poems, anonymous despite the fact he can recognise...all of our individual styles of handwriting, shuffles them into a pile a hands a few of them to me. I have to read them. The first is a haiku, a tiny Japanese style poem, which means it can't go into any great detail.On his stool he is nudePosed and composedOur classical statue.I have a feeling that the next one, which I have trouble deciphering,. I stood up from the table and moved over to position myself directly in front of my friend’s husband. I smiled at him while unbuttoning my pants before teasingly turning around and bending over. I looked right at my friend while my ass was swaying a foot from her husband’s face. Her smile told me I should keep going so I placed my thumbs in the waistband on each hip and began sliding my pants down slowly over my very round butt. As they dropped to my ankles, he had a clear view of my ass. She moaned. She wanted to speak, to tell him how good it felt, but she couldn't.Ten words. That was all she was allowed to say during this session. Obedience was paramount. Donna gritted her teeth to keep the words from escaping as the sound of her moans and labored breathing filled the room. The buzz in her brain continued even after he pulled away. He laid next to her, watching as she returned to reality. As he pulled her lower lip down slightly with his finger, her mouth automatically. With that image burnt into his head, Frank unleashed his final load into Sania’s cinnamon quivering asshole. He slumped down on her and pressed his cock as deep as it could go as he spasamed the last drops of semen into her newly stretched bowels. Sania began to relax as she felt his erection subside. Frank stood and she stopped him there, turning to suck his slippery cock clean of the cocktail of their new experience. The sight of her cleaning his cock was a sight that even Frank could not.