Lost love

I try to imagine how it will be. How they will open the heavy wooden doors of our prison. How the light will flow in. And how we'll see the fair mansion lying peacefully in the sun amidst its carefully tended lawns. And behind that there will be the forest. Large and deep, they told us, its bordering fence hidden many miles away from here. A lot of place to roam and freely run. An unclimable fence, we have been assured. But there'll be no need for climbing. Surely they will have found me long before I'll even reach its vicinity. My cleft has become damp thinking of it. Too bad Bernhard and Anouk can't enjoy me as I am now, as I will be tomorrow. With sudden force I grasp the woman, still below me, by her hair and kiss her hard on her mouth. She moans and sucks my tongue. And when I rub my sopping decrepit twat heavily against her mound, I contract in a huge orgasm.

When the silence around me returns, I begin again to think of tomorrow. The fear is back but it's a good fear now. It fuels my arousal, wakes a fierce erotic lust. I'm frustrated. It's still such a long wait. Much too long. I can't wait anymore for the ultimate surrender to that party and to the terrible pleasure I'll have to grant them. Only at dawn break, they said, they'll take the chains off and we'll be driven out. But even then it will still take many more hours.

At least until noon, when on the terrace of that mansion the celebrating guests will be given their rifles for the hunt.

We'll all be running by then, looking for cover and hiding. But I'm not anymore young enough to hold out for long. So I guess I'll soon be found. Then I'll think of Bernard and Anouk and rejoice in a screaming orgasm while being shot."

****

"Class dismissed; Isabelle please stay with me for a moment."

"Yes sir?"

I let her wait until the other students have left. She seems a little nervous. So I smile when addressing her: "I see you seem to have made it. You're still nicely alive."

She laughs. The cute little ringlet piercing the sexy division between her nostrils, twinkles. "It's only a story, sir, a fantasy."

"Not exactly the kind of stuff I often encounter in my class of creative writing."

"You didn't like it, sir?" Her voice is suddenly tense.

"I liked it, sure I liked it."

She relaxes visibly.

"But you must tell me one thing, Isabelle."

"Sir?"

I look her straight in the eyes and slowly ask the question that has burned in the back of my mind ever since reading her paper. "That unholy couple of yours, Isabelle, why have you given them my name and that of my wife?"

She blushes. Her smile freezes in a hint of anxiety.

"Well?"

"I'll change the names if that's what you want, sir." The strain is back in her voice, full force.

"That's no answer, Isabelle. Why did you do it?

She's quite nervous now. Her little nose ring trembles. "I don't know, sir... just an idea..."

"Just an idea?"

Still blushing she stammers: "I... I don't know sir.

"I think you do know."

She swallows. There is a long silence. We just stare at each other. Her pretty face slowly becomes crimson red. She really has beautiful eyes. And a beautiful figure too. I wonder what her body would look like.

Finally I break the silence and ask: "How about dinner tonight at our place? You already know me, so maybe you want to meet the real Anouk as well?"

She hesitates, but then, almost in a whisper, she says: "I would like that, sir."

"Good. That's settled then. I'll tell Anouk. Eight o'clock?"

She nods like an obedient student, and picks up her things, her face still adorably flushed.

"Oh yes, one more thing, Isabelle."

"Sir?"

"Anouk, and I, we would prefer you not to wear knickers."

She looks up and smiles. "I won't sir, of course not…"