The thought crossed my mind, as I peered at my student, that the little cut-offs jeans she wore sure weren’t doing anything for my condition. She shifted her weight from bare foot to bare foot nervously. The signs were unmistakable; her breathing was deeper, and the way she held her hand over my as she inhaled was more than just an attempt to keep the wind from blowing the embers away. I knew a little about body language, though I didn’t know the term. I only knew that I stood a good chance of getting my student’s cherry, with the help of my wacky weed, if I didn’t do something about it. I would, I thought, in just a minute or two. Looking quickly around, I unfastened the half-dozen buttons and suspender bindings, and lowered the front of my overalls. My dick, unburdened by underwear, leapt out, and I grasped the thick shaft with my right hand. Standing against the barn corner, I leaned out just a little; enough to see them. Good. The grass was thick between us. I was sure that was. It was late. I’d already been spit-roasted by these two burly East European men. They’d started in on my right after Cyrus had left, using the chain leash to pull me over to the bed and take me. They’d taken turns using my mouth and ass, pumping what felt like hefty loads into their condoms. In the process I’d wound up naked, and they’d left me, panting and spent, lying on the bed with only my lace-trimmed collar and leash. They were laughing among themselves as they spoke to another man, then I’d heard the door close and footsteps approach.“Get up, please.”I did as I was told, looking up at one of the tall dark men with god-like muscular statures, who had fucked me so relentlessly that first night with Cyrus. This evening, however, he was wearing a dark, sleek suit.“Please face the window, put your hands out, and spread your legs.”I stumbled, still a bit unsteady, toward the huge picture window, and did as Cyrus’s security man asked. I was looking out on the city as I felt my feet.
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