andre of astora

Some time later—perhaps ten or twenty minutes, though I had no way to know for sure—a door opened in the wall I could see through my thighs. I hadn't even realized there was a door, until then.

“Shhh…” I shushed Carol. “Let me do this. I’ll stop if you tell me.” I pushed my finger in farther, knuckle deep. Carol didn’t say anything else. She even moved her hips a bit, gently fucking my finger with her asshole. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I withdrew my index finger and started to push two fingers into her relaxed opening. Two fingers of my other hand were still inside her pussy. I could see Carol with her eyes closed, her cheek against the cold granite, concentrating on the feeling.

Towards the middle of the semester, Mrs. B. devised an assignment where we had to act out a soliloquy from any Shakespeare play. I chose Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. As we had to be in costume for extra credit, I brought a flat sheet to school to fashion into a toga of sorts. There was a supply closet in the front of the room where people could change. Boys would pretend to peek in the closet when girls were changing. There wasn’t much to see for the most part, as girls might throw a long night gown over their clothes to play Juliet. The door locked on the outside when closed completely, so the few kids with major changes could do so with some privacy.