I remember one English lesson watching him; there he was short hair, chiselled jaw and blue eyes. His tie hanging loose over his white shirt and his s...oulders looking strong in his blue blazer. The usual school grey trousers, but tight enough to tell he was hanging to the right. He was reading aloud in front of the class, his deep voice penetrated me as if he was fucking me with his voice and I could not help but get aroused.I was sat at my desk black hair in a pony tail, white shirt buttoned. He had even grown enamored of the tang of salt from the sea that hung in the otherwise crisp and dry air, something that he had only tolerated in days that seemed long past. He waited as a horse-drawn cart ambled past, holding his breath until the plumes of dust kicked up by the wide, spoked wheels had settled.Tarras glanced to either side. His gaze lingered where the road curved past the edge of town. Two Cohorts stood on either side, nodding at the arrivals as they passed through the town. More

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