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Wife gets her pipes cleaned while hubby's away.
So Dr. Micaels slipped into the teeming cafeteria, wriggling past to a pair a smartphone-ing goths to reach the plates for the salad bar while still managing to bludgeon a tiny Aian girl with her shoulder bag. After slowly building an acceptable salad (marred only by the inclusion of yellow bell peppers, which were far too sweet), Michaels shouldered her way through the crowd towards the faculty's usual corner table...
...only to find it occupied by a dozen ponytailed members of the women's soccer team.
Dr. Michaels' paused, cradling her salad, peering about for a familiar adult face. Yet she found herself alone in a sea of children. And of course, adding insult to insult, Michaels spotted Jason at a far table sharing an enormous plate of cheese fries with Lindsay, Azalea, and couple of other nobody losers. The pet's back was to her, but Lindsay noticed Michaels, her eyes lighting up and her hand offering a small, but energetic wave. After a few moments, Lindsay began to beckon Michaels over, first with one hand, then both.
Dr. Michaels pretended not to see her, her cheeks suddenly flushing with frustration and rage. She wandered over to take a seat at a long counter lining the windows and choked down her salad, regretful at every bite of the fries she would be eating if she had known the adults wouldn't be watching.
Jason came to visit during during office hours, and though Dr. Michaels' mood and energy got an immediate boost from having him near, she still felt a bit too out of sorts to play with him much. She sat him on her lap and tongued his throat for a bit, then had him brush her hair again for a time. But before long Jason simply sat at her feet, resting his head on Michaels' lap while she read essays with one hand and idly petted his shaggy hair with the other. Eventually, though, the boy's hot breath puffing on her crotch set Michaels' blood alight and she had him eat her out under the desk until she came. It had become such an easy trick for him to perform! No teenager had any right to be so good at eating pussy. Yet he was, and so Michaels gave the pet a few gracious pats on his wet cheek, packed her bag, and left him on his knees, wiping his face with her handkerchief as she set off for home.
After stopping by a Sonic for a not-so-spicy chicken burger and soda (the crumbled remnants tossed into the back seat of her car), Michaels plunked onto the couch in her drafty apartment, turned on the TV, and read the grueling introductory pages of the Scarlet Letter, hoping to bore herself into a proper nap. Once that scheme failed, she rolled onto her side and watched three back-to-back episodes of the Big Bang Theory without so much as once cracking a smile.
Finally Dr. Michaels gave in and left a trail of work clothes from the couch to bathroom as she stripped and began to groom. Ten minutes later Michaels' bare foot slammed down three times against the living room floor, and she stood near the door, smoothing her lavender robe over her thighs and wondering if she had gone a bit overboard with the Lemon Rose.
The knock came forty two seconds after stomping. The pet was slowing down.
But Michaels didn't punish him for it. Overall, she was in the mood for a quiet, calm evening. Once the pet had stripped, she yanked him to her and gave him a hard makeout in the middle of the living room, her hands gripping either side of his head while his fingers flowed up and down her back and sides, occasionally dancing softly over her ass. The frenzy of their lips nearly pushed Michaels' glasses off her face, and she shoved Jason's head down to suckle at her breasts while she readjusted the glasses, bringing the boy's desperate, devoted features back into clarity.
Michaels soon shoved Jason towards the couch, nipping his ears and smacking his hard ass.