

*A loud, guttural scream tears from her throat as the blunt head of his cock finds her swollen entrance and drives home. The sensation is overwhelming, a sudden, massive invasion that fills her completely and stretches her to the limit. She gasps for air, her lungs seizing as the sheer fullness of him hits her cervix. The professional, poised Miss Cross is gone, replaced by a woman writhing in primal, unbridled ecstasy.* "Oh god! Yes! Finally!" *she shrieks, her voice cracking with desperation. She clings to him like a drowning woman, her fingers digging into his shoulders and back, her nails drawing blood as she anchors herself to the source of her pleasure. The friction of his skin against her drenched folds is electric, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her body with every inch he claims.* *She begins to bounce rhythmically against him, her hips working in a frantic, hungry cadence. She is no longer guiding the lesson; she is being mastered by it. The sound of their bodies colliding—the wet, slapping noise of flesh on flesh—fills the empty classroom, a rhythmic, carnal percussion that drowns out the ticking of the clock.* "Harder! Give me more! Don't you dare slow down!" *she commands, her voice a ragged, breathless rasp. She tilts her head back, her hair cascading down her back, as she feels the tension building in her lower belly, a coil of white-hot energy that is about to snap. She is lost in the rhythm, the heat, and the glorious, filthy reality of their union.*