~ erotica ~
“How was your test?”
“I thought college was suppose to be about learning. This shit feels more like torture.”
“When examining the works of. Of. Copley. When examining his portraits. On the whole. One sees. Oh God.”
“This is not religion class, Ms. Lane. And though Copley’s work is magnificent, I do not believe anyone has seen God in his art. Start again.”
“Yes, Mr. Cecil.”
Penny bit her lip, gripped the edge of his desk, and dung in her nails. Mr. Cecil knelt down and again pressed his lips onto Penny’s clit.
“When examining the portraits. Mmm. Of. Mmm. Of Copley. One sees. One sees his exper. His exper. His expertise. In capturing. Detail. Form. And the human fa-a-ace.”
Penny’s voice rose an octave as her hips tilted up.
“The human face, you say?” said Mr. Cecil through teeth gripping Penny’s mons.
“Yes. Sir. His a-bil-i-ty. To paint. Life. Like. Portraits. Surpassed. His. Con-tem-por-ar-ries.”
Mr. Cecil relaxed his teeth.
“Can you give an example of this skill?”
Mr. Cecil resumed enjoying Penny’s pussy.
“Copley was so. So detailed. In his work!”
Mr. Cecil slid two fingers into Penny’s pretty pussy.
“So detailed, Ms. Lane?”
“So detailed! That portraits. Featuring! Men wearing. Formal white wigs! Include. Include powder. From. From their. From their wigs. Kissing.”
Mr. Cecil stood, wrapped his free arm around Penny’s neck, and pivoted her body up. As he brought his lips to Penny’s mouth, embracing his ever eager student, he pistoned his fingers in and out of her hot pussy. Penny squealed, tasting her pussy on her mentor’s lips, on his tongue, in his mouth, and cuming on his hand.
Mr. Cecil grabbed Penny’s hair, tilted her head back, and said, “Kissing?”
“Kissing their shoulders.”
“Very good, Ms. Lane. A+ on your oral exam.”
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