I pin your wrists to the wall above your head. Your back arches, breasts thrust out into my face, straining against the buttons of your shirt. I stop and look into your eyes, move you into the corner so you can perch better on the rail. Ping. You hold on to the wall and I trace the swell of your breasts, squeezing them, your nipples hard. I bend over taking a bite through your shirt as you breathe sharply. I carry on biting and sucking, one hand on your other breast continuing to give it equal attention, my other hand sliding above your stocking tops, pushing aside the lace of your underwear and rubbing your clit with my fingers. Ping. I almost burn my fingers on the hot wetness of your pussy, and your juices cover the three fingers I already have inside. Ping. I’ve lost count of the floors but we must be close. Still we haven’t said anything. We don’t need to. This is what we need. A double ping. Fuck we must be there. One final kiss. Smooth down jacket. Tuck in shirt. Doors open.. Actually he was paying more attention to the couple than the art work being displayed. Harris was in several classes with Francis and had noticed how the chubby student dressed. He liked the look and in numerous classes sat in class where he could look at the chubby boy without being noticed. Harris not only liked the way the chubby student dressed but for some strange reason like the look of his chubby hands and had imagined one of them masturbating him. At the gallery Harris decided to make his presence known to Francis and innocently backed into the couple in one of the rooms displaying art. Harris excused himself and then just said hello with a knowing look. Francis was surprised to see his classmate at the gallery and blushing said hello and the conversation ended there. Francis kept an eye on Harris to see who he was with at the gallery and suspected that the student was with his parents when he saw him talking with the older couple. Francis soon forgot about Harris when.
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