Warning: Very taboo. Not for the faint of heart. May include BDSM, incest, and other taboo and forbidden elements. This is a vintage **full length** (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel.
*****************
She could feel Professor Jurgen's wicked black eyes zooming in for a close up of her body. She dropped her eyes. Breaking his stare did no good. She could still feel his searching look burn through her clothing.
I hate the way he looks at me! she thought furiously, I feel like I'm naked.
She tried to ignore the hot, mushy feeling between her legs. Her little fuzz-covered cunt was like a melon left too long in the field, soft, hot, dripping with juice, bunting apart at the seams.
He's just like the rest of them, she told herself, and he wants to slide up between my legs! He's not going to, none of them are. I'm not going to end up pregnant and deserted like Mother was.
"Well, Miss Allison?" Her train of thought was interrupted by the stem question.
"I'm sorry, Professor," she heard her cool, even voice saying, "I'm afraid I can't."
"Miss Allison," the sarcastic reply began, "You evidently have a better way to spend your evenings than studying philosophy. While I wouldn't like to interfere with your pleasures, I would like to remind you that a passing grade in this course is mandatory." There was a pause as the professor stroked his thick black beard. "See me after class," he finished curtly.
*****************
She could feel Professor Jurgen's wicked black eyes zooming in for a close up of her body. She dropped her eyes. Breaking his stare did no good. She could still feel his searching look burn through her clothing.
I hate the way he looks at me! she thought furiously, I feel like I'm naked.
She tried to ignore the hot, mushy feeling between her legs. Her little fuzz-covered cunt was like a melon left too long in the field, soft, hot, dripping with juice, bunting apart at the seams.
He's just like the rest of them, she told herself, and he wants to slide up between my legs! He's not going to, none of them are. I'm not going to end up pregnant and deserted like Mother was.
"Well, Miss Allison?" Her train of thought was interrupted by the stem question.
"I'm sorry, Professor," she heard her cool, even voice saying, "I'm afraid I can't."
"Miss Allison," the sarcastic reply began, "You evidently have a better way to spend your evenings than studying philosophy. While I wouldn't like to interfere with your pleasures, I would like to remind you that a passing grade in this course is mandatory." There was a pause as the professor stroked his thick black beard. "See me after class," he finished curtly.