Teaching Willow: Session Three Read Online Free PDF

building and back to my car.  I can’t stop the delighted curl of my lips—a gesture of both anticipation and satisfaction—as I drive around to the other side of the campus where the Language building (and my classroom) is located.
    I swing by my office to drop of some paperwork before I head to my Mod Lit classroom to await Willow.  At first I thought she might take her time, that she might be nervous.  But now, the more that I think about how anxious she must be carrying a secret like this and constantly fearing discovery, I think she’ll be along quickly.
    I’ve only just entered the dark, stadium-style room when she arrives.  I left the door propped open, so it’s not the noise of the latch that alerts me to her presence.  And I’m facing away, so it’s not like I can see her.  No, it’s merely a sense of her presence that tells me she’s here.  Like every molecule in my entire body is attuned to her.  It has been for quite some time now.  And tonight, I’m practically humming with delicious expectancy.
    “You wanted to see me?” comes her slightly husky voice from the doorway. 
    I don’t turn.  “Shut the door please.”
    I allow myself this one last smile before I compose my features. I can imagine her reaching for the door.  I bet she’s so unnerved that her hands are shaking.
    I don’t look to see if she’s complying.  I simply wait to hear the click of the latch bolt slipping into place.  When it does, I still don’t turn.  I wait.
    I don’t hear her shoes on the thin carpeting, but I feel her presence at my back when she comes to me.  I feel her and I smell her, the scent of her perfume wafting up to tease my nose.  It’s a mixture of whatever Sage wears and something that’s purely Willow.  Now, now that I know , I recognize it for what it is.  The best of both sisters, all in the package that I was never truly able to resist.
    I say nothing. Neither does she. I simply wait.  Longer and longer, I wait. 
    Finally when I can practically hear her tension reverberating through the room, I turn and smile my disinterested, professional smile.  “Your writing,” I begin casually, facing her fully and sliding my hands into my pockets.  I don’t want to touch her too soon.
    “Yes?”  Her eyes are wide yet guarded, her lips trembling ever so slightly.
    “You never mentioned school at all, presumably because the story was about Sage.  And Sage doesn’t go to school here, does she?”
    Willow’s forehead wrinkles into a frown and she shakes her head.  However, she makes no audible response.
    I step around her, moving close enough that my shoulder brushes hers.  She recoils as though I burned her.  I don’t smile, even though I want to.  I move to the desk that sits in the center of the open floor at the front of the classroom.  I glance back at Willow who has turned to watch me.
    I back up to the desk until I can feel it brush the backs of my legs.  My every nerve is alive and hypersensitive, anxiously awaiting more stimulation.  “Come here,” I say quietly, enjoying the friction of my pants against the engorged head of my cock. 
    Willow walks slowly toward me then stops about a foot away.  I reach for her shoulders, turning her away from me to face out into the room.  I ease her back against my chest, leaning forward to speak into the shell of her ear as I point past her to the very back row.
    “See that last row?  Third seat from the left?” I ask.  My lips graze her ear and, in the silence of the room, I hear her stilted gasp.  My dick throbs in response, in memory.  For a few seconds, I’m lost in another gasp, in another time when my shaft was this close to the rounded globes of her ass.  I suppress a groan of pure lust as I think about how that night turned out, about plunging into her so hard and so deep I nearly lost my mind.  That was little more than a week ago. 
    “Yes,” she whispers.
    “There’s a girl who sits there, a girl I’ve