In Love With Shakespeare

Unconsciousness

Professor East really wasted no time in slipping that finger into the hot, tight, tunnel where my hunger was most intense. She made sure that it grazed tightly against my clit as she pushed it inside, and even that brought me to a second, stomach-churning orgasm. Then she pushed a second finger inside me at the front, and even a third. I think my little tunnel was gripping her tight like I never wanted her to depart. Meanwhile, the finger of her other hand was moving fast and nimble in and out behind me, and she even succeeded in pushing in a second finger to intensify my sensations to a point where I thought my mind was literally going to blow.

As she played me like this, I crashed quickly into a third, explosive orgasm, going Oooooooooohhhh, Aaaaaah, Aaaaaargh Yeeeeesssss!

"Does that feel nice?" my professor asked in that soft velvet voice, all cool and hyper-English and so damn sexy!

I literally could not speak. I could only nod and shake and sweat and cream myself backwards and forwards, bucking against her intruding fingers, first upwards and then downwards, and up... and down.. and just grabbing those chair-legs like that was the only anchor, the only barrier between me and total oblivion.

Suddenly, a fourth orgasm welled up inside me like a tidal wave and then crashed over me from head to foot, making me mumble uncontrollably and incoherently in a voice that was strangely quiet, like an Omyfuckyesma'am!

It was scary just how much I was shaking now, and just how much pleasure I was capable of. I really had no idea it could be like this!

The next thing I remember is kind of collapsing like a rag doll, just basically hanging over my teacher's lap, panting, sweat-drenched, and almost unconscious. I remember her lifting me and placing me on the sofa and then covering me with a blanket and placing a cushion gently under my head. I felt very cared for. Loved, even.