South Indian Sex

I had to be almost there. I slid up to the front pin. It was hard to manipulate. The warding in the keyway forced my lock pick to enter low. I could barely touch it. The torchlight grew brighter. Aurora shifted her hips, letting out a whining sound.She was scared. You couldn’t let fear get to you when you were doing something delicate and complex and—Click.The lock turned. I pulled out my picks, shoving them into my mouth, and shouldered open the door. Aurora gasped, darting in after me. I closed the door softly, twisting the doorknob so there would be no click. The guards laughed louder. I turned it, my ear pressed to the door.Their words were muffled, but they didn’t sound alarmed. In moments, they were past the door.“Ooh, that was fun,” I said around the picks in my mouth. I turned around and scanned the hallway we had entered. It was dark. But a torch burned farther down it.“Fun?” Aurora said, her voice choked. “We were almost caught.I pulled my picks out of my mouth. “I know.” I. .Over time the strictly professional nature of their relationship began to soften, she would talk about her c***dren, her husband and life away from the university campus. He’d always listen and try to be as agreeable as possible, always interested, always showing interest, to encourage her to continue, often asking the following day or week how this went, or that went. Then late one afternoon, something changed...He knocked on her office door, to chat about how things had gone in that day’s sessions. She was wearing a floral summer dress, opaque tights (he assumed) and expensive high heels. She often swivelled her chair around to chat when he came in and it was always a challenge to keep his eyes on hers, for reasons he later couldn’t fathom, today he couldn’t resist. Whilst listening to her talk his gaze went to her legs and she noticed something in that gaze, something that went beyond professional conduct...the moment passed but he left her office with his heart beating like a.
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