To smell her accent linger on the top of my lips would be something like a glimpse of heaven. Her soft whimpers to fill my ears as she begs with her tongue stuck in between my teeth with her dark skin flushed with my hand prints. I wonder..would she like it if I made her beg? If I had her kneel at the heel of my foot as I dripped onto her tongue as if she was Abraham begging for a taste of water on his tongue from the pits of hell to quench his thirst.
All the what if's in question..how deep could I slip inside of her and how far could I go until tears streamed down her dark narrow face..my hands gripping her body and the ropes tightening around her dark flesh as she begged for me to stop but holds me closer anyway? How far could I slip in between her pretty lips and down her throat until the makeup she spent all her morning doing runs down her pretty face and drips from her chin?
I wonder..would it be as heavenly as it seems in my mind as I watch her prance around, asking us our most personal questions? I mean..it seems so. It seems I could just so easily pin her against the mahogany desk and bite on her skin and neck, feeling her drip down her own leg from arousal. To spread her open in front of the classroom, her pretty clít to touch my tongue and watch her writhe above me like God watching his Earth fall apart?
Would she fall apart just the same if I hit the right spots?
I wonder.
Anita stared at the paper as she sipped her glass of white wine, her half eaten plate of dinner churning in her stomach from ambivalence. She graded everyone else's work from today, except for one. The paper screamed at her and she wanted to scream back just as much. She couldn't believe the depth that sat in front of her.
She was uncertain on what to do. Does she grade it and hope for the best? Or does she report it to the Dean who would probably just grow a hard on at the thought of it? She couldn't figure it out. The young student had great potential, but she hated the fact that the young student chose to tease her instead of doing what was asked in an appropriate manner.
"Fuck.." Anita sighed, downing the rest of her cup without taking her eyes away from the piece of loose leaf paper.
I mean..I did ask them what was going through their mind..I just..I didn't get anything like this. People thought about their parents, about the new year and their resolutions.,class...but not spreading me fucking open and comparing me to God!
"Fuck it..just..fuck it." Anita hissed as she wrote a B minus on the top of the page. She took points off for the exploitation and sexualization of herself. It didn't matter how it made her feel, it was still inappropriate.
She packed all of the papers away and sighed as she cleaned her plate before grabbing the wine bottle and walking upstairs to her room. She had a small one bedroom apartment in a luxury building in Williamsburg. It felt good to finally be independent after living with a man for so long who couldn't even wash a dish.
She walked over to her balcony, inhaling the cool air as she looked down at the street of the quiet neighborhood, nothing but the streetlights and the few cars that passed by making it evident that people were still outside. She sipped her wine when she heard a subtle sound that perked her ears. She looked around, squinting to her right as she saw a dark figure standing over a young woman.
She swallowed hard as she watched, gasping quietly as the dark figure slapped the woman across her face before pulling her by her hair.
"No, no please..no.." The woman cried so loud that Anita heard it from her balcony. She gasped, pulling her phone from the pocket, ready to call the police when her eyes widened.
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YOU ARE READING
The Neighbor (Re-addition) Woman x Intersex
General FictionAnita Tesfaye is recently divorced and starting her new job as a professor at the local university. What happens when one student shows her a world completely outside of her own? This is the original story of Angel and Anita, who appear in The Phle...