I was breathing strangely and stood beside him looking down at the book. “This is the writing of Walt Whitman,” he said, “and much of his poetr... is about love and feelings…read this part.” I leaned over to look at the words and his arm went around my waist. It was warm and I wiggled very slightly and began to read the poem about men and women and “feeling myself…alive” and Mr. Emerson was rubbing my back. “What do you think,” he asked. “It’s nice,” I said, not knowing what else to say and. It had been over a decade since she last had sex, and her body was craving the attention. I licked and sucked on her clit, and it drove her wild. She had time to make up for, and she wanted to do it. For ten minutes I teased and pleased her clit. She moaned that she wanted my cock in her ass. She got up, and presented her ass. Her ass was as tight and perfect as the rest of her body. I was hard as fuck, and just wanted to cum. I needed to cum, but I didn't want this to end. I rubbed the top of. More

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