Thoughts of an English gentleman as I approach 50.
I'm in an open polyamorous marriage - my wife knows about this side of me, and approves.
Gave up on tumblr after three deleted blogs in 2020, so here I am.
Messages and asks are open, I never share pictures that I receive, I love to chat. And since the messaging here sucks balls, I'm on discord disgustingoldman#3093 and Snapchat - lancashirebloke. Also on session but posting it here messes up the page formatting so ask nicely for it if you want it.
Looking to find the right kind of girl to spend time with, do icky things, and help her find her place in the world. Message me if you're interested in exploring what we could do together, preferably in person but online can be lots of fun too.
Being made to stay late after school, she knew she should say something. Thinking about how her parents would be cross that she wasn't out as soon as school finished, already coming up with an excuse to tell them when she got in the car. She couldn't tell them the truth, it would destroy them to know what had happened to her.
If only she hadn't been wearing these cute panties. If only she had worn her newer skirt that covered more so he couldn't see up it. If she'd put on a bra this morning, even though she didn't really need one yet, this wouldn't be happening.
But it was and she knew it was all her fault. She should have stopped him when he moved to close the door. She should have cried out when he held her down. She should be fighting him off instead of getting wetter and wetter as her favourite teacher violated her hairless little cunt.
But she was a good girl, so she just took it and encouraged him. Whispered icky things to help him. Told him that he could cum inside her tiny parts. Called him the bad words that he needed to hear. This was her fault and she was going to cum as he raped her tenderly on the desk. That's a good girl. Cum like the good little whore I'm training you to be. And make me cum while you call me that special bad word you know I can't resist.
If it's her mother picking up, she'll tell her that she's doing some after school extra credit. If it's her father, maybe she'll be more honest and see what he does when he knows exactly what kind of girl he's raised...
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Being made to stay late after school, she knew she should say something. Thinking about how her parents would be cross that she wasn't out as soon as school finished, already coming up with an excuse to tell them when she got in the car. She couldn't tell them the truth, it would destroy them to know what had happened to her.
If only she hadn't been wearing these cute panties. If only she had worn her newer skirt that covered more so he couldn't see up it. If she'd put on a bra this morning, even though she didn't really need one yet, this wouldn't be happening.
But it was and she knew it was all her fault. She should have stopped him when he moved to close the door. She should have cried out when he held her down. She should be fighting him off instead of getting wetter and wetter as her favourite teacher violated her hairless little cunt.
But she was a good girl, so she just took it and encouraged him. Whispered icky things to help him. Told him that he could cum inside her tiny parts. Called him the bad words that he needed to hear. This was her fault and she was going to cum as he raped her tenderly on the desk. That's a good girl. Cum like the good little whore I'm training you to be. And make me cum while you call me that special bad word you know I can't resist.
If it's her mother picking up, she'll tell her that she's doing some after school extra credit. If it's her father, maybe she'll be more honest and see what he does when he knows exactly what kind of girl he's raised...