Only matched by the milk of her breasts. Our Master and sisters do care for her especially, but, not as deeply as I. My love for her is untamed, like ...ild flower-ladened river banks. If I could produce seed, I would bury into her deeply, gifting myself an enduring climax. An ever driving crescendo, generated from delight in her birthing pains, and ecstasy in filling her entirely. My seed would fulfill my love, throbbing an exchange of charges. Deep inside her womb, we would nurture our fruit.I. “Come meet my family.”“Sure,” she replied. “Hi, what a pleasure to meet you!”replied the short, 40-something professor, with shoulderlength black hair and round frame glasses.Going thought the motions but still happy to meet thefamilies of her students.“Well, its nice to meet you too, Congratulations,” shesaid wading through the crowd, in no general direction.“Man, someone needs to turn on the AC!” someone declared.“It sure is. More

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