Ooo, that feels good. Keep it up! Ooo dont stop! My lover picked me up and sat me on the edge of the pool. He stripped me of my bikini and began to li...k my clit. O, MY GOD! I said in excitement. That feels so fucking good! He took a finger and started to fuck my pussy with it while he continued to use that tongue of his on my clit. I started to moan and could feel the urge and tingling sensation come over me. Youre going to make me cum! You want to make this little slut cum? Ya, you want me to. It was grounds for a mental laugh to flash back to high school and recall some lovely images. I remembered a time when Shelley and I were not especially on speaking terms, but I watched her, on a bus, struggle with trying to get her first miniskirt to cover her stocking tops. Another was from class, thinking of Carol the D, the cheerleader captain, seated in a math class, with her fashionable wrap skirt, held closed only by a decorative safety pin, falling open to reveal a long, lovely,. But that still left the issue of actual consent. As I’d said, over and over, acquiescence wasn’t consent. But how could I get what amounted to ‘positive’ consent in a situation like this. I had no idea.“Peer pressure is a pretty strong thing,” I said. “I’d be concerned about consent and coercion.”“You mean your thing about just going along with something as opposed to actually saying that you want to do it?”“Yes. And I’m not sure how to obtain what I would call ‘positive consent’ in a situation. " They've been moved," said Brad. We turned a corner. Coming the other way was one of Brad's guards. Clad only in black leather trousers and a leather hood that masked the upper half of his face, his torso glistened with the sweat of recent effort. He and Brad exchanged a few quiet words. The guard took the ring of keys that hung from a clasp on his belt and passed them to Brad. We carried on as the guard pushed passed us. Sarah watched fearfully as he went.The corridor carried on down into the.