Apprentice Shepard - Chapter 2 - The Calling - Apprentice Shepard, Sir Weston
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It's been a while now since my first-ever encounter. It was with Master Figata and opened a entire fresh chapter of my life. He taught me, in a single, mind-blowing afternoon, the meaning of absolute pleasure, while at the same time providing me a clear understanding of the path I need to pursue. However, the date has left me in some kind of individual quandary. What the Master did to me was beautiful, and intense, and I've been longing more of it ever since. I have been as patient as possible. I have knuckled down in classes and tried my toughest to be the best schoolgirl here. I've also refrained fully from pleasing myself-it sounds dumb, but part of me senses that if I colon into my urge to spend every last 2nd of my intimate time tugging myself into oblivion, I'll be jinxing future opportunities or somehow lessening the influence of whatever's destined to happen next. When I received notification of my calling, I figured that the time may have ultimately come. I got myself into quite a state as I ambled throughout the complex to the designated office. Defeat with a concoction of fear and excitement, I finished up perceiving so eager that I unbuckled the top button of my tee-shirt just to breathe. I tried to shovel the bind knot back up in a way that didn't make it sight like the button was undone, but I knew I wasn't making the right impression and that bothered me. I was astonished that it wasn't Master Figata in the office; I'd assumed that he'd be exclusively in charge of my formal development. I was instead greeted by Master Weston, a fellow that I don't know quite as well. My only interaction with him happened about trio weeks ago when he was seated next to me in the formal hall. Looking back, I guess he did seem a tiny more nosey about me than I very likely should have expected. He was considerably less super-fucking-hot with me this time. As I sat down in the office he was reading some sort of official file, which I assume was crammed with information about me. I could perceive the beads of eager sweat prickling on my forehead. I wondered if it was too late to try to do my top button back up again. He asked if I still believed that I wasn't attracted to men, and I confirmed that this was really the case. My date with Master Figata was, of course, something which could easily be hard ripped as a man-to-man sexual encounter. It could also be argued to be a one-off; an hoisted learning experience which doesn't necessarily define me as gay. To be honest, I was utterly confused. I'd deliberately shoveled any thoughts about carnal delight to the very back of my mind, refusing to entertain them for fear of them absorbing me.
It's been a while now since my first-ever encounter. It was with Master Figata and opened a entire fresh chapter of my life. He taught me, in a single, mind-blowing afternoon, the meaning of absolute pleasure, while at the same time providing me a clear understanding of the path I need to pursue. However, the date has left me in some kind of individual quandary. What the Master did to me was beautiful, and intense, and I've been longing more of it ever since. I have been as patient as possible. I have knuckled down in classes and tried my toughest to be the best schoolgirl here. I've also refrained fully from pleasing myself-it sounds dumb, but part of me senses that if I colon into my urge to spend every last 2nd of my intimate time tugging myself into oblivion, I'll be jinxing future opportunities or somehow lessening the influence of whatever's destined to happen next. When I received notification of my calling, I figured that the time may have ultimately come. I got myself into quite a state as I ambled throughout the complex to the designated office. Defeat with a concoction of fear and excitement, I finished up perceiving so eager that I unbuckled the top button of my tee-shirt just to breathe. I tried to shovel the bind knot back up in a way that didn't make it sight like the button was undone, but I knew I wasn't making the right impression and that bothered me. I was astonished that it wasn't Master Figata in the office; I'd assumed that he'd be exclusively in charge of my formal development. I was instead greeted by Master Weston, a fellow that I don't know quite as well. My only interaction with him happened about trio weeks ago when he was seated next to me in the formal hall. Looking back, I guess he did seem a tiny more nosey about me than I very likely should have expected. He was considerably less super-fucking-hot with me this time. As I sat down in the office he was reading some sort of official file, which I assume was crammed with information about me. I could perceive the beads of eager sweat prickling on my forehead. I wondered if it was too late to try to do my top button back up again. He asked if I still believed that I wasn't attracted to men, and I confirmed that this was really the case. My date with Master Figata was, of course, something which could easily be hard ripped as a man-to-man sexual encounter. It could also be argued to be a one-off; an hoisted learning experience which doesn't necessarily define me as gay. To be honest, I was utterly confused. I'd deliberately shoveled any thoughts about carnal delight to the very back of my mind, refusing to entertain them for fear of them absorbing me.
Added: 2024-04-10 • Views: 8 • Duration: 26:03
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