Teaching Willow: Session Three Read Online Free PDF Page B

had on my mind for quite some time now.  I wrote a scene about her,” I explain with measured words.  I flick my tongue out to tease the lobe of her ear.  She shudders against me.  I gauge her every action, her every re action before I continue.  “I wrote about fucking her.”  In an infinitesimal shift, Willow arches against me.   “I wrote about it in graphic detail.  Sweet, wet, burning hot detail.”  I feel her rapid breathing as her back moves against my chest.  “It’s all about you, Willow.  All.  About.  You.” 
    I feel her stiffen almost imperceptibly and for the length of one long, deep inhalation, I question what I’m doing.  Not because I’m having second thoughts about finally taking Willow (and in my classroom, no less), but because I have to be absolutely sure that this is all what it seems to be, that she has, in fact, been masquerading as her sister.
    But too soon, I realize that I’ve come too far to stop now.  I’m so close to getting what I want, I can’t go back. It’s too late to rethink anything.  I want her. I know she wants me.  This is going to happen, damn everything else.
    I reach around Willow’s waist and flatten my palm against her stomach, pulling her back against me.  She fits me perfectly, just as I knew she would.  Just as she does when she calls herself Sage. 
    Subtly, I shift against her ass as I scoot my hand under the edge of her shirt, skating up over her ribs to cup one plump breast.
    “Do you want to hear about it?” I ask.
    Again Willow makes no response, only nods.
    “I wrote about walking up those steps and taking her by the hand,” I say as I rub her hard nipple.  I bring my other hand to her waist and unsnap her jeans.  I feel her stomach clench.  “I wrote about bringing her down to the front of the class and taking off all her clothes.”  Willow’s head lists to the left, as though she’s having trouble holding it up. Otherwise, she’s perfectly still.  “Can you imagine what it would feel like if this room was full and I stripped you right here in front of all those curious faces?  Would you like having all those eyes on you?”
    Her breath is the only sound that breeches the stillness.  Quickly, I take the hem of her shirt and tug it up.  When my hands meet her elbows, I know that this will either be my consent to continue or my signal to stop.  Which will it be?
    After a short pause, Willow lifts her arms and I pull the material over her head.  My heart is pounding and I have to force myself to slow down, to savor every second of this experience.  I could pay dearly for it.  I could’ve blamed Willow before, but this moment—tonight and what I’m about to do—changes everything.  Tonight, I know.  I know who I’m with.  It makes me culpable.  Complicit.  This could lead to the ruination of my career, of everything I’ve worked so hard for, and I’m walking right into it. Because of Willow.  To have her just once, just like I’ve wanted to.  To taste the forbidden fruit in all its glory.
    I put my hand back on her warm stomach and whisper into her ear.  “Kick off your shoes.”
    I feel the shift of her back side against me as she shoves at one heel with her toe and then reverses the action, divesting herself of her shoes.
    Using only my fingertips and with the lightest touch I can manage, I ease her zipper down and then slide my thumbs into her waistband so that I can push the denim down her legs.  When her jeans are pooled around her ankles, she steps out of them without me having to ask.  Then, obediently, she resumes her position right in front of me. 
    “Reach behind you, Willow,” I instruct.  “Reach between us and feel how hard I am.”
    I grit my teeth when I feel her small hand settle on my crotch and search tentatively through my pants for my shaft.  Her fingers wrap around it for a fraction of a second before I grab her wrist to still her.  “That’s all for you.  I’m so hard