A girl named Y/N has come to Oxford. She has been sent away from her mother with her stepdad. Until she met someone to try and test her memory, She didn't know a plot would meet her and realized the forgotten burn in her past.
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I awoke from a shaking beneath me. My hands were somewhere they shouldn't be. I open my eyes to find myself on top of Farleigh's lower chest. I can't move since my hands are gripped in his while he sleeps. I just inhale and turn my head to the right, but— I am facing his thigh region.
This isn't good. I gaze up at him, seeing his expression as his mouth groans silently. His hands squeeze mine. Was he experiencing a wet dream? In some ways, he appears really attractive. His active member bricked up against the thin cloth. I moved before nearly smacking me on the cheek.
With that, I roused him. "What are you doing?" he asks, looking down at his legs. I sat up next him, attempting to convince him that I was not doing anything to him. "No, this is not what it appears to be." I defend myself as I attempt to back away, but his hand pulls me forward for a brief moment. "Yes it is." I swallowed my saliva back into my throat: my face an inch from his. My heart began to beat as quickly like my clit did. "It's not." I got closer to his face.
He moved my hand down to his chest. My gaze was drawn to it, but he held my chin with his other hand, forcing me to look directly at him while my hand rested on his bricked manhood.
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(*The photo was not mine*)
"Massage it very well, my cock is tired after a longgg day of staring and imagining a lot because of you," he raspily muttered to me, inhaling in the same air as me. He groans and controls my fingers against his sensitive flesh. I keep my eyes fixed on him while he moans in front of me.
