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A friend advised me against sitting at the back because the snoring from all of the party animals will interfere with hearing the lecture. Also, I’ve got lots of room to spread out down here. Nor do I have to get up to let people by due to the extra walking space in front of the stage.” Both the professor and the other student at the front laugh at the reasoning in his reply.When Pat reaches the door he holds it open while saying, “I’ve got the door open, Miss Mathis. So you don’t need to search for it.”She smiles as she says, “Thank you. I’m Laura, Mister...”“Nolan, Pat Nolan. We should compare schedules. If we’ve many of the same classes I can help you moving between the buildings from class to class. I know you can manage well because you got here today. But I can help give you extra warning of anything unusual in the way.”“Thank you, Pat. I’ve now got a class in Room One Twenty-five.”“Sounds like we got the same admissions clerk, so do I.” On the walk from the lecture hall to the. Coach rose up - stood up - and grabbed Willy’s ankles. Willy was grunting with each thrust but it sounded like one constant grunt as Coach was jack hammering Willy’s ass. Sweat dripping off Coach’s chin fell on his dick, and he pumped it all up Willy’s butt. Willy reached down with one hand, jacked his own meat hard, reached out with his other hand, and pinched Coach’s nipple. Both guys howled out loud as they came at the same time. They didn’t notice their screams echoing in the big locker room, but only cared about the cum they were squirting. Coach emptied his load into Willy’s ass and Willy lay back and shot his cum up to his own face. Then the bench bounced a bit as Coach slammed his butt down on it. His dick pulled out of Willy’s butt as he lay back on the bench to catch his breath. Willy let his legs fall back down over Coach’s thighs and both guys lay back with their butts together, panted, and rubbed sweat out of their eyes.In the shower they made out some more and soaped.
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Once again her back was arched, her hands clawing at the bed sheets, as the pyrotechnics exploded in her forebrain. Now he withdrew his fingers from her, holding his hand up for her to see. From fingertip to wrist shone with her spendings. Then his fingers were again probing at the entrance. It was slack, offering no resistance whatsoever. She was sobbing. Partly through the sheer, overwhelming, intensity of the experience, partly through the realisation that she was power less to resist, if he chose to resume. That was somewhere between poignant and humiliating. Sensing that this was perhaps somewhere he shouldn’t go, he withdrew his fingers. She was silent, torn between residual lust and relief. Without saying a word, he reached for one of the pillows, putting it alongside her pelvis, he rolled her on to it, prone. She offered no resistance or assistance, her limbs limp. She felt almost detached as he knelt behind her, running his hands over her buttocks. Still without saying a.

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