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Shit, no panties either; she did a twirl, then bent and pulled herself open, little ass-ring winking above a shiny swollen pussy.'Bottomless too, and if you want me to tell you what Mr. McCarthy said, you're going to have to give me your considered opinion on progress so far.' I stood up and grabbed her, twisting her round and bending her over the table. Her sore breasts slipped over her half-finished plate and she squealed as the warm sauce spread over them, but I kept one hand on her neck while I pulled my sweats down with the other. Shit, I'd been hard since I served the fuckin' spaghetti, and I slid straight and fast and deep into her dripping pussy. Her hands flew out and clawed at the cloth and I felt a stab of worry in case the glassware got damaged. Better not to mention that though, so I took hold of her hips, heaved in again. The sauce spread over the table-cloth as I got my rhythm, and she began to respond, thrusting back against me, her breasts smearing the sticky mess. Winslow was a romantic fantasy and most of the men in school had no idea.By the end of my first year, I was a commander and had my pick of team members. Almost of them were regulars, more than half were women. Given the male heavy balance at the academy that was very unusual. My teams had the reputation for the most independent minded thinkers, a mixture that normally didn't work because of egos and stubbornness. When Winslow won a commendation, her father didn't even acknowledge it with a message, which broke her heart. I comforted her through that difficulty; it was our first coupling, she fell asleep on top of me, my shaft still rigid inside her.I felt her warmth on top of me and I opened my eyes, listening to Celine's shallow breathing. Long hair fell in loose waves of black over my shoulder. I lay in her comfortable embrace, feeling myself smile. Celine was sprawled out, an arm on each side of me, her body hadn't moved from our coupling. I could feel her soft breasts on my.
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