Conjoined, we continued to copulate. Her ample breasts rippled as I bounced her into the cloth seats. Her face seemed enraptured. I loved the power I felt, being able to please her that much. Like a piston I pounded her, my cock relentlessly digging into her ravaged, trembling vagina. Her face twisted in a tighter expression as she began to orgasm. "Ahhghh! Ahhughhh!" she wailed. Then she seemed to hold her breath with her mouth open, her hips oscillating as if possessed, she clutched at me, then at the skin above her pussy. Then let out a long, sexy shriek as she came. It seemed to go on and on as I did not let up. It felt as if she melted inside, so heavy was the flow of lube rushing from her. She seemed to stiffen and relax a bit. I slowed my motion, deeper strokes as the orgasm waned. Then I lifted one of her legs, knocking her discarded panties to the floorboard in a pile with her bra and skirt as I rotated her to one side. With her leg in my hands I continued to fuck her. Her. I went to my psychology class early one time, and guess what I saw? A sight I would never forget until the end of my days. Lorelei, my Lorelei, playing tonsil hockey with professor Adam Shane, the man I considered my mentor. In that moment, if I had been shot by a firing squad, it wouldn’t have hurt more. I didn’t say anything. I just ran. I ran all over campus, like a crazy person. I didn’t care who saw me. Then, I locked myself up in my room and wept. What had I seen? Did I really see my Lorelei kissing another man? Why was she doing that? Was I not enough for her? Impossible, I was taller, stronger and better-looking than professor Adam Shane. He was a forty-something, divorced, paunchy and balding white guy. I was a tall, good-looking black athlete. I was also a damn good guy who treated his woman right. I took her to fun places. I took care of her needs. I didn’t cheat on her with others. I was always there for her when she needed me. I was loyal. How could she do this to me?.
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