Paul asked Edie to stay after the last class. “I’ve got some things to do in the art room, but after that?” She gave him a brilliant smile, then...licked her lips. He air-kissed back.An hour or so later, she came to his office, and closed the door. Edie’s clothes were not of the best. Her black A-line skirt was tight on her hips, and the cloth seemed tired. Her medium-height heels were run down. Her shirt strained at the buttons, both from a substantial bust but also across her belly.Edie smiled. Or not come home until late at night, claiming he had to work, and then say he's not feeling well and beg you “Can't we do this tomorrow instead?” or something similar.He might whine and whimper and complain that being fucked in the ass like that makes him feel like a fag. He might engage in all sorts of other efforts to divert your attention away from his asshole and from what needs to be done. Ignore it, and discipline him if necessary. Don't hesitate. Your will must be greater than his.When. More

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