Excruciatingly slow. I moan as it starts feeling better and better. Soon I'm begging him to go harder. He leans back onto his knees and lifts my hips...to meet him. My back is arched off the bed and he's fucking me relentlessly. I scream as I fist the blanket at my sides. "Ohh fuck! Please don't stop," I moan. I love the way he holds my waist as he pumps into me. His skin is getting heated, watching my face as he fucks me, his hot hands on my skin. They remind me of... oh fuck. My stomach drops. I had been suffering unholy lust for this stud for weeks now, knowing to sit just behind him and to his left side in the lecture hall, giving me my finest voyeuristic opportunities. Like today, it was sometimes just a few inches of hirsuite shin. Other days, as he leaned forward in his desk, the t-shirt he always wore pulled out of his jeans revealing the smooth skin of his side, just above the beltline. But what I was completely obsessed about was one more glimpse of that hairyness across. More

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