Chapter 1127 Willing Heart
It seems that painting is truly exquisite—it can lead a beauty to willingly bare herself. By the way, the woman whom I met at the lake last time seems to be an art teacher. I should find time to learn painting from her. By then, I could draw a portrait of my cousin in the style of Audrey and Rose, who laid bare before me, assuming enticing poses for me to sketch. Kevin's erection grew harder.
Kimberly remained absorbed in the tumultuous storyline. Perhaps women are inherently more sensitive than men. Watching Jack and Rose sprinting through the ship's cabin, evading the pursuit of Rose's fiancé, she felt a myriad of emotions. If life were a large vessel, why shouldn't she, like Rose, hold hands with her beloved and run forever until the end of life?
Since her husband Grant became the director of poverty alleviation, Kimberly sensed an increasing warmth from her colleagues at the school. Even her relatives called frequently, showing care and concern. She deeply felt the fickleness of worldly affairs, the warmth and coldness of human relationships. She was considered a wife who basked in her husband's glory.
However, Kimberly couldn't find joy in this. If Grant had received recognition solely based on his abilities, she would have been proud of him. But she knew very well that if it weren't for what Kevin said that night, her husband wouldn't have been promoted so quickly.
On the television, Jack and Rose reached the cargo hold, boarded an old car, and engaged in the most primal act between a man and a woman. Moans that made one's cheeks flush and heart race permeated the living room. Kimberly blushed, feeling a feverish heat throughout her body. Her black-stockinged legs were tightly pressed together, a hot wave surging below. She stole a glance at Kevin, only to be met with his intense gaze. Quickly averting her eyes, her heart raced. She wanted to say something but found her throat tight. The pair of firm breasts under her clothes rose and fell slightly, creating an inexplicable atmosphere of ambiguity in the air.
Kevin itching with desire, traced his fingers along the sofa cushion, slowly inching towards Kimberly's hand. Soon, he touched the back of Kimberly's hand, causing her hand to tremble and retreat. Kevin persisted, initiating a silent tug of war. Kimberly hurriedly placed her hand on her thigh, only for Kevin's fingers to directly touch her black-stockinged thigh.
Kimberly nearly gasped. Her slender and strong thighs tensed instantly, yet she bit her lip and remained silent, seemingly accepting the consequence of a male touching her thigh.
The silky stockings felt remarkably pleasant to the touch, truly deserving of their label as provocative. They possessed a superior texture compared to regular stockings. Of course, what was even more enticing was the elastic, womanly thighs beneath the stockings—full, firm, and exuding the seduction of a mature woman. Kevin couldn't help but caress his English teacher's soft thighs, relishing this incredibly exhilarating moment.
With Kevin's touch, Kimberly felt a tingling sensation and weakness in her thighs. Uncontrollably, she secreted a flow of excitement. Unable to resist, she let out a soft moan, her cheeks reddening. Her inner desire grew stronger, even hoping that he would continue upwards. Her thighs, once tightly sealed, gradually parted, exposing the most sacred and intimate part to the young man.
In the living room, apart from the television sounds, there were only the heavy, rhythmic breaths of the two, with a hint of a lewd scent lingering in the air. Although Kevin had already incited a stream of excitement in Kimberly, she tried hard to maintain the composure of a teacher. Trembling, she addressed the young man touching her thigh, "Alright, Kevin, have you touched enough? Focus on listening to the movie dialogue. It could improve your listening skills."
Kevin's hand suddenly moved upwards along the English teacher's thigh and quickly reached the root of her thigh. It had already been completely moistened by excitement, and his fingers touched the plump, tender petals of the teacher. The young man's desire was instantly ignited. As he pressed against the crotch of the stockings with his fingers, he squeezed out the juices from the slit, smiling mischievously, "Kimberly, why is it so wet here?"
"Kevin, stop it, this isn't right," Kimberly uttered as her lower body was being played with by the young man's fingers. A sense of shame washed over her, yet there was an indescribable pleasure. She was a teacher, a married woman. How could she be played with like this by her student? She should be angry, furious, and demand he leave immediately, but her body felt weak and powerless.
"Kimberly, I'm feeling really uncomfortable. Can you help me out?" Kevin unzipped his pants, pulled out his warm member, continued caressing the teacher's lower body with one hand, while gripping his shaft with the other, beginning to stroke it.
"Mmm, Kevin, how could you do this to a teacher... it's too much," Kimberly watched as the young man masturbated in front of her. The youthful and majestic member waved before her, the pink glans expanding and contracting slightly. Pre-cum had begun to seep out, emanating a strong masculine hormone scent. Her thoughts became sluggish and hazy, gradually forgetting her identity as a teacher and a married woman. She was now simply a woman yearning for intimacy, wanting this lively young organ to penetrate her vagina and fill her womb with its thick, hot essence.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Suddenly, a knocking sound resonated from the door. Kimberly snapped back to reality, exchanging a tense look with Kevin. Her face now displaying a nervous expression. Who could be knocking at this moment? Had her husband returned? But Grant had a key to the house; he wouldn't knock.
The knocking at the door persisted. Kimberly hurriedly ushered Kevin to hide on the balcony, straightened her clothes and hair, then walked to the door and softly asked, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Kimberly. It's Quentin," a male voice echoed.
Quentin? Kimberly furrowed her brows slightly. She knew him; after all, there were only a dozen or so male teachers at Sunset Valley High School. They had interacted before. However, he was an English teacher, and she was an English teacher, but not in the same class. Why was he coming to her house late at night? Hesitantly, she inquired, "Mr. Rodriguez, is there something you need?"
"Oh, Kimberly, today's Teacher's Day, right? The school union distributed gifts to the staff. I brought yours. Could you open the door and take it?"
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
