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Still staring at my panties as if in a trance, he rasps, “I wondered about them.”
“What?”
“Your panties.” Finally he looks up, his eyes eaten up by lust. “The ones you were wearing that day. When you planted the camera in my office.” His fingers tighten up on my thighs. “I wondered how wet they were. I wondered if you’d let me stuff them in your mouth.”
I jerk at his words. “I would have.”
His fingers tighten again. “Yeah?”
“Yes. Even though I planted that camera, I never wanted anyone to find out. I never wanted anyone to blame you.”
A puff of air escapes him. “Blame me for doing things to you behind closed doors?”
I jerk again. “Yes.”
Another puff of breath as he rasps, “Well they would’ve, yeah. But not for the reasons you think. Not because when they heard you moan and scream – and they would’ve because I still think you’d purr like a wildcat if I played with your kitty – they would’ve thought that Principal Marshall’s got a student hiding in his office. Not because they would’ve thought maybe he’s hiding a teacher in there. Or even a girlfriend. They would’ve blamed me but for other reasons.”
“What other reasons?”
His chest pushes sharply on the bed. “Because when they put their ears to the door and really heard your moans and really heard your screams and needy little whines, they would’ve thought that it was someone else.”
“Who?”
“A high-priced hooker.”
I twist my hips again, almost shredding the sheets with my fist, whimpering, “Alaric —”
“They’d think that instead of working, instead of doing his job, the respectable Principal Marshall got so desperate, so hard up for a fuck that he called for a hooker. Because the only reason a girl makes noises like that, the only reason she moans like that, like she’s dying and losing all sense, is when she’s getting paid to and her john is banging her pussy doggy style, doesn’t she?”
“But that’s not—”
“Not true though, yeah.”
“No, it’s not.”
“I know,” he agrees. “I know it’s not true, Poe. But they haven’t met you yet, have they? They don’t know that there’s a girl, a cute little whore, a pretty doe-eyed diva, who moans for Principal Marshall like that.”
“I do, I do.” My thighs clench again. “Please, Alaric.”
“And that Principal Marshall keeps her panties in his desk drawer. Because I would’ve kept them, you know.” I jerk again, my heels digging and slipping on the bed. “I would’ve kept them so I could lock my door and take a whiff of them every chance I got.”
I’m about to call out his name again.
But then he actually goes ahead and does it. He actually goes ahead and takes a whiff of my panties and then I can’t. I can’t form words. All I can do is twist and squirm under his grip and moan again.
Because he doesn’t stop there.
He noses my panty-covered pussy and keeps taking drags of it, of my scent, as if he’s an animal. A beast. A predator, and his next words prove it. “Although I have to say that as much as I would’ve liked those panties, Poe, and as many times as I would’ve smelled them while jacking off while my assistant told everyone who called that Principal Marshall was busy, I still wouldn’t be satisfied.” Another sniff. “I would’ve felt duped. Because I wouldn’t have gotten the good stuff.” Yet another sniff, this one followed by a growl as if he’s really unhappy and dissatisfied with my imaginary panties. “The fresh stuff, see. The fresh, ripe scent of a snatch that I’m getting right now. That I’m fucking inhaling and snorting like coke. The scent of cherries.”
At this, he licks it.
He licks the center of my pussy through my panties and I moan so loud that I’m afraid the ceiling will fall down.
That I’ll wake up the whole household.
But I don’t think he’s worried about that. I don’t think he cares because his growl is louder. And shakier.
It shakes his whole body, my taste, and in turn, the whole bed I think.
Me as well.
“Yeah, I would’ve been fucking disappointed, Poe,” he says, looking up, his eyes belligerent, his jaw clenched.
Chest heaving, breaths scattering, I somehow manage to whisper, “I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
I’m not even sure how or what I’m saying. All I know is that I’ll give him anything and everything he wants.
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Every day?”
“Every day.”
That makes him happy. That makes him breathe easier. “Good. Every day at lunch then. We have a standing appointment, yeah? I want you to come into my office, Poe, and hike up your school skirt. I want you to sit at my desk, with your thighs spread open so I can sniff your cunt and get my hit. So I can eat it too, your snatch. I need my lunch, Poe.”
