''Stop! Stop!' She had shrieked at him 'You are mad! I'm old enough to be your mother! I'm your teacher! You are a boy! Now get out! Get out!' She had...moved towards him, shaking all over but determined. Then, suddenly, it was if a great calm resolve filled her.'Simon', she had said, her voice shaking but now controlled. 'I don't know what I've done to deserve this outrage. But I need to think about what your behaviour means. And you need to get out there in the fresh air and clear that head of. I headed back to my loft and went to bed early.It was close to 9am when I got up. I headed for the local grocery store for some beer and steaks for the grill. I picked up a bottle of vodka for later. I got some salad to go along with the meal. I walked back to my building drinking some coffee. I came around the corner. I was going to walk down the alley next to the building and cut through the parking garage to get to my elevator. I started to walk when I noticed a women walking at the end of. He took Michele's black leather bag off the bench and slipped the straps over his shoulder. "Best you wait at least five minutes before you leave this room bitch or I might think twice about letting you go!" the Stalker threatened. He then quickly left the filthy workshop and Michele began to sob. Her hair was mussed, her makeup smeared, her skirt torn and her underwear tattered and covered in semen. She pulled her panties back over her puffy vagina aware of the man's secretions oozing from. One hand returned to minister to her now lonely boobs while the other continued its slow journey to the tiny patch of hair that highlighted the start of her pussy. Her hand moved between her legs and a finger found the track the formed between her labia.She was already wet. She was ready for more.Her hand wandered from one breast to the other. She touched and held and fondled and squeezed. She knew her breasts and gave them what they cried out for and she gave them more than that. She wet her.