Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
I have always liked the dark side of control. Sometimes, I think back to the hallway of my old school, where the smell of chalk and old books mixed with the scent of my very hot teacher’s cologne. Mr. Harris was my English teacher for three years. He was kind, with a soft voice that could make Shakespeare feel like a whisper in a lover’s ear. To me, anyway.
After graduation I left the town. I moved to the city, and learned how to dress in black leather and how to make a command sound like a promise. I became a domme. This entire time, I kept Mr. Harris’s name in a notebook with his birthday, his favorite coffee, even the way he tapped his pen when he was thinking. It was a secret map, like a game that only I could see.
Cucking The Hottest Teacher At My School
One night, I found his email on an old alumni site. He replied with a polite “Hello, Stella. How are you?” The words were simple, but my heart beat fast. I told him I was back in town and that I wanted to meet. He agreed and we chose a small café near the school.
He sat at a corner table. His hair was a little longer, but his eyes were still gentle. When I walked in, he stood, a little surprised, as if he had not expected to see me after so many years. “Do you remember me, Mr. Harris?” I asked. He nodded. “Of course, Stella. You were always the one who asked the hardest questions.”
I sat down, crossed my legs and placed my hand on the table. “I have a question now,” I said. “Do you trust me?” He hesitated, then said, “I think I do.” The word “trust” was my key. I wanted to watch him watch me fuck another woman, to feel his jealousy when we won’t include him, his humiliation in naturally feeling turned on by us, and to own it.
I explained the rules, the safe words and the limits. We left the café and went to my apartment. The room was dim, with soft lights flickering against the wall. I had prepared a second woman, a friend who knew the game. She was soft, polite and very willing. I introduced her to Mr. Harris as “Claire.” He looked at her, then back at me. His eyes filled with a strange mixture of fear and desire.
“Remember,” I whispered, “you belong to me. You watch, you learn, you obey.” He nodded. Claire gently touched his shoulder, whispered in his ear and I watched as his breathing change. He tried to smile, but his eyes darted to the dark mirror on the wall where I stood, arms crossed, with a small, satisfied grin on my face. I could hear his thoughts, his shame, his secret pleasure, as he watched Claire drop to her knees and eat my pussy like a wet, juicy strawberry.
Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
https://phonesexcandy.com/stella/