Wickedywick's Tight-Lipped Tutor

The musty smell of old books and forbidden desires fill the air as the tutor's hands tremble, marking red pens on pristine papers. The student's gaze, hungry and intense, traces the curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts. 'You're distracting me,' she breathes, her voice barely audible. 'That's the point,' he growls, stepping behind her chair, his breath hot on her neck. She shivers, her nipples hardening, as his hands grip the armrests, caging her in, his cock pressing against her back. 'Let's... let's go over your... lessons,' she stutters, her heart pounding in her chest.

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