Confessions Read Online Free Page A

leaned into me, splaying me on the desk, and I squirmed beneath him as our motion sent number two pencils rolling and progress reports sailing off the edge to flutter to the floor. His cock seemed to be swelling inside of me, filling me deeper as he fucked me even harder. He grabbed one of my legs behind the knee, shoving it up onto the desk so I was spread even wider for him.
    "Oh that's good!" I cried, feeling the angle change, his cock getting even more of me now. I rubbed my clit faster as he fucked me, using two fingers on either side of it as I arched back to take him, wanting more, more. I was so close to climax, my thigh muscles taut and trembling, my pussy on fire with the heat of our fuck.
    He grabbed my ass in both hands and I begged him to come, feeling my own orgasm begin with a shuddering surge. The rapid squeezing of my fluttering pussy around his cock must have sent him over, because I felt him tremble and grip me hard as he buried himself into me. I moaned and squirmed on the desk, whispering things I don't even remember as he filled me with his cum.
    Most of the progress reports were salvageable, if a bit wrinkled from our foray onto the desk. We didn't finish them that day. Instead we shoved them into John's briefcase and went back to his place to do it all over again, this time bent over a chair in his living room, and later in the softness of his bed, and then in the heat of the shower…
    We never took a chance at the school again, like we had that night-instead we found other places to meet to indulge in our pleasurable little secret. Eventually, the job ended, and so did our affair. But it was hot-incredibly hot — while it lasted.

Confessions: Neighbors
    When I was a teenager, we lived in a condominium complex with very, very thin walls. Not only could I hear my parents having sex-my girlfriends and I labeled my mother “Lassie” — think Kim Cattrell in Porky’s-but my room happened to be right next to the neighbors’ bedroom. My mother was loud, yes-but all she really did was moan.
    There were no real words, not even a “yes” or “oh god!” Just lots of feminine noise.
    My neighbor, on the other hand…
    The funny thing is, she was the most straight-laced, button-down, uptight woman on the face of the planet by day. She was my best friend, Sarah’s, mother, the woman who insisted we take our shoes off the moment we walked in the door, who required coasters under every glass, and who took down and washed her curtains twice a week.
    Tall, thin, with short, blonde hair and bright blue eyes behind sensitive-80’s-glasses, she wasn’t what anyone would really consider a sexual powerhouse.
    At night, however, Mrs. L turned into an animal. This was the woman who taught me-at a rather young age, and of course, unbeknownst to her-how to talk dirty.
    Really, really dirty. The sound of the headboard against the wall usually woke me up, a rhythmic pounding. I knew exactly what the bed looked like, where it was placed. I could even imagine Mrs. L, naked and spread wide, Mr. L towering between her legs. I have to admit, the thought excited me. Mr. L always had a ready smile, he liked to tease us girls, and once, I’d been spending the night over there and had walked by their bedroom on the way to the bathroom and saw him snoring away, covers thrown off, his cock standing straight up, hard as a rock.
    It wasn’t Mr. L I heard, though. It was Mrs. L, telling him what to do.
    “Come on! Fuck me harder! That’s it! Ream that hot, wet little cunt!” I told you it was dirty.
    My face flushed in the darkness, but the ache grew between my legs as I listened. I couldn't believe it was Mr. and Mrs. L on the other side of that wall, rutting together on their bed in total abandon. "Give me that big dick! Come on! Ahhhh god, that's so good! "The fire that spread through my body at those words was so hot I thought I'd explode. I couldn't help touching myself. My pussy begged for it, and I gave in, pulling my