Natalie expertly continues to play with herself, never forgetting to keep her nipples happy and perky for the camera. The tension builds as her pleasure grows, getting closer to satisfaction. The clicks have completely stopped now. Natalie opens her eyes and sees Heather has her shirt off. Her hands are no longer full with the camera, but her bulbous breasts. Heather is cupping one in each hand, eyes locked on Nat’s show, biting her lower lip in an effort to remain silent. Natalie moans and closes her eyes with a wicked smile. The waves build and crash, one after another. Natalie rocks with pleasure, her moans loud and excited. Her hand is covered in her own sweet nectar as her orgasm continues. She moans, gasps and thrashes against her hand. She’s out of breath and panting as she slowly comes down from the peak of pleasure. Her body is glowing with the light sweat of her labor and her hand shines with her cum. She glistens and gleams like only a woman can after a fabulous orgasm. As. His fingers had barely brushed the door handle, however, when it was turned from the other side and the door opened. "Hello?" he asked, pulling the door open the rest of the way. In the gloomy corridor beyond stood a young woman. He recognised her immediately: a strikingly beautiful girl with an Asian cast to her features. Her long hair, dark and lustrous, fell well past her shoulders, and she stood with the easy poise of a dancer. In her simple green vest top and short black skirt, she looked even younger than her eighteen years. He had noticed her already amidst the nameless crowd of first-year students: she was something special, the eldest daughter of an old Hong Kong trading company, wealthy and cultured and utterly beguiling. "Professor Wainwright?" the girl asked in a crisp tutored accent that still carried the merest trace of her birthplace."Mia, isn't it? What can I do for you?" I'm sorry for bothering you, Professor. I'm having some trouble." Not at all. I'm always.
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