Your forehead touched mine as you watched my face and listened to the moans falling from my lips. You started to pump faster as I wraped my legs around you. I could feel you hit all my special spots and my pussy was becoming increasingly wet with every passing moment. As you started to go faster and harder my moans became louder, the bed was hitting the wall over and over again, and I knew the nosy neighbors would complain later. I could feel that I was getting closer to cumming all over you. You leaned down and kiss me hard and passionately. Your tongue slid past my lips and tangled itself with mine.. As I was laying in bed imagining you, my fingers were sliding in and out me faster and faster. I was so wet I could hear the wetness as I finger fucked myself. I continued to moan your name, and I could feel the liquid fire start to spread – my signal that I was about to cum. As I drifted back to the fantasy, I started to rub on my clit faster, knowing that it would make me cum. As they came to their feet, though, the bell sounded. In a moment students were gathering books, talking, and walking toward the door. The notes had been there from time to time for about five weeks: sometimes a couple or three a week, sometimes none for an entire week. But once they'd started to appear in the lab bench drawer in front of Peter's stool they continued, and he looked forward to them. Peter had left notes too, but there was never any reference to what he'd written or asked in the next note. Except once. The first note had appeared on a Thursday in April and its message had gotten his attention. So he left a note of his own: Who are you? Boy? Girl? The second note had been there the following Tuesday. It didn't answer his question directly, but at the bottom was the dark red lip gloss impression of a pair of puckered lips. Peter, solidly straight and now reassured, could look forward to the teasing contacts, enjoy them, and let his mind wander. Now, near the end of May,.
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