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.. no... stop it... please...”With that, convulsions ran through her entire body. My head was clamped between her legs right at her crotch as she cried the expression of her climax into her room. My face got splashed with her clear fluids which squirted from her pussy uninhibitedly.After her orgasm subsided and she was still panting in its afterglow, I stood up and dried my face with my tank top. I kissed her, letting her taste her own secretions on my tongue.Suddenly, she pushed me away; this time, with determination. For a brief instant, I didn't know what this meant. I couldn't make out what I was seeing in her eyes. Was she mad at me? Ashamed of herself? Ashamed of her smell? Ashamed of squirting on my face? Ashamed of receiving an orgasm from a girl? Did she think I had abused her?She pushed me again and I fell onto her bed. She stepped out of her crumpled heap of shorts and knickers. Without a word, she grabbed my panties on both sides and pulled them down. I eased her access by. “Nice to meet you,” I managed to stammer while I shook her hand. “Please take a seat on one of the side desks while Miss Summers gives her presentation,” she told me, not letting go of my hand, and I became increasingly aware of the softness of her skin and the strength in her fingers. “We will ask you to the front once that part is finished, and Miss Summers will then demonstrate how her project is to be worn. You will be asked to walk up and down the front row so we can see if the shoes lend themselves to a natural movement, but don’t be surprised if you’re asked to repeat that once or twice, this is in fact quite common.” Her eyes roamed once more up and down my body. “Do you have any questions?” “Uh, no, Ma’am.” I cursed myself for acting like a ten year old and prayed that my nervousness wouldn’t infect Anne. She let go of my hand, and I instinctively looked down at it, rubbing over the now cooling spot where her thumb had rested. “You may take a seat.” “Uh, sure.” I really.
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