Jan. Week 3: Friday(Raw)-Mr. Bill Cums...Inside Leah while doggy (Silence: +25, Suspicion: +10)

He jackhammered her with the ferocity of a man half his age, his lips peeled back in a grimace, sweat streaking down the corded length of his neck, the thick ropes of muscle in his arms standing out like bridge cables as he gripped her waist and **** her down again and again. Leah, numb from the hips down, was so far beyond spent she felt almost outside her body, staring at the scene as if it were some grotesque tableau playing on a flickering screen.

When it hit him, his whole body went rigid. Leah felt him pulse inside her, each throb distinct and forceful as he emptied himself. The latex barrier between them grew warm, then hot, as it collected his release. She watched his expression shift from tension to slack-jawed relief, sweat beading across his forehead like dew.

Leah slumped forward, exhausted and half-limp, unable to muster a comeback. She was slick with sweat, her thighs quivering with exhaustion, her cunt throbbing around his still-pulsing cock. She wanted to crawl off him, to collapse on the floor, to die for just a minute. Mr. Bill smacked her ass for good measure, then withdrew himself from her womanhood with a wet, popping sound. She collapsed onto the couch beside him her body tired with shame and disgust. A dead silence hung between them, thick as glue until he broke the silence.

The sensation was so intense that for a moment she saw stars behind her eyes, a burst of white that left her gasping. She was a mess. Her pussy drooled around him, stretched impossibly wide and leaking his jizz, the excess dripping out of her used slit. Leah’s legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed forward onto the sticky couch, the vinyl cold and unforgiving against her flushed skin. Her face pressed into the cracked seam of the cushion, but she didn’t care; she was too busy riding the shockwaves of her own aftershocks, pussy throbbing and twitching even as Bill’s cock twitched and softened inside her. For one hideous, mortifying second, she felt genuine gratitude that he’d finished inside her—because, for now, it meant the **** was settled. Transaction complete. Her debt, at least for the moment, was paid in full.

When it was over, Mr. Bill slapped her ass lightly and playfully, then withdrew himself from her with a wet, popping sound. She collapsed onto the couch beside him, gasping and jelly-legged. A dead silence hung between them, thick as glue until he broke the silence.

“Damn,” he said again, voice lower now, almost gentle. “Didn’t know could take it so good.”

Bill’s cock, still half-erect and impossibly oversized, jutted obscenely from his lap, glistening with their mess. He moved with unhurried efficiency for a roll of cheap paper towels. He wiped himself with a handful of the rough brown paper towels, like the kind you find from a dispenser on the wall and cleaned himself while he fished for clothes. Leah let herself slump for one, maybe two heartbeats, then **** herself to move to find her clothing. She was going to be aching tonight...and probably tomorrow...maybe longer.

Leah finally moved for the paper towels and grabbed a handful and tried to clean up the leaking goo as best as she could. Those cheap brown paper towels weren't exactly made to daub up cum. She tried her best though, before getting herself entirely ready to face the classroom again.

She couldn’t look at Bill. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to look at him again, not without seeing this moment projected across his face in all its shameful glory. She could feel his eyes on her, heat and hunger and a kind of lazy satisfaction that made her skin crawl.

“You know, if this education thing don’t work out, I got a friend in Atlanta does movies. Real professional setup. He could use a natural like you. You got a gift, Miss Leah.” He chuckled.

“Pass. But thanks for the feedback.” She bared her teeth, which was as close to a smile as she could get.

The halls were blessedly empty. Only the faint echo of voices from nearby halls. She shuffled past the trophy cases and pep rally posters, every step a reminder of what she’d just let happen, what she’d done.

She made it to her classroom with a minute to spare. She locked the door, leaned against it, and let her forehead rest on the cool metal before having to open it back up and facing the rest of the day.