lara with horse

“Well, I was going for sex slave, but now that you mention it, we did some of that too.” She pulled me closer and kissed me hard, slipping her tongue inside my mouth. I wondered if she could taste her ass on my tongue, but I kissed her back. She took her hands from my face and wrapped her fingers around my rock hard shaft, never breaking her kiss. She used her thumb to spread the wad of precum from the tip all around the head.“Mmmmmm…you’re hard again. Good. You’re amazing. Can you cum again?”

Being a horny 15-year-old (almost 16!) with a bad crush I tried to hang around Mrs. B. as much as possible. I went to her office for help with assignments when I didn’t really need it. I took every opportunity to touch her arm to get her attention or sometimes give her a friendly squeeze or hug. She always reciprocated with a smile. I imagined she enjoyed my company.

I left her there, naked and bleeding, and the next time I saw her, she was at the base of the west tower, having jumped to her death. Galvin told me not to concern myself with her, that she was simply a broken toy, and that I would find another. But I knew different. She wasn’t a broken toy, and though she made her choice, it wasn’t suicide; it was murder. I killed her. I hurt her, I violated her, and made her life so painful that I might as well have pushed her off that tower myself. I knew it, but I didn’t want to accept it.