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Orijinalini görmek için tıklayınız : Living in a Changed World Pt. 01


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20 Temmuz 2022, 23:43
Prelude</p>
At some point there was a "change". No one is quite sure what caused it (there are many theories ranging from DNA modification by vaccine to aliens), but what is certain is that, after the "change" women started to exhibit higher and higher levels of strength, speed, endurance, and intelligence than men. Eventuality, that led to other things like greater sexual needs and aggression. It led to a new world. My name is Simon Jones. This is my story as a man living in that world.

Part 1. The World Turned Upside Down</p>
I.
My early thirties found me teaching physics at a small private high school. I had landed there after leaving my professorship at a large university. Such positions are dependent upon producing research more than teaching. Most of the new faculty were women. Their volume of research far outpaced mine. I was no slouch. I mean, "Hello, PhD in theoretical physics and quantum mechanics", but the women that came on board behind me were head and shoulders above me in brilliance. They also seemed to work 20-hour days. That was a combo beyond my ability to compete. The writing was on the wall. The department chair let me down gently that tenure was not in my future and helped set me up with a teaching job at her alma mater.
I was pretty smashed at first, but I came to like teaching. Income was less of an issue as my wife, Nadia, found her new software engineering firm taking off and we had other sources of income. I'll get into that later. We settled into a new town and that was that. The schedule disruption bahis siteleri (http://www.pongp.com/) was something, so some things changed. For example, Nadia and I used to go to the gym together, but she suggested that she start going alone and I could work out at the school's weight room. Little things like that aside, it was a pretty good life. At the time, though, I didn't realize how different things had become since "the change"
I was about to find out.
One Autumn Friday, I was finishing up some light tutoring I was doing with a senior named Becky. Becks was about 18 (I don't actually know, but, for the sake of legality and my conscience, I want to believe she was). She stood a little shorter than me (a measure manly 5'8"), was of a slight build - maybe a 110lbs, had light blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She dressed in the regular private school plaid-skirted uniform She was a bright student but had asked me for some help on some simple problems. I was surprised, because she seemed to grasp them in class, but girls in those days still questioned their abilities in math and science - a holdover from a different time.
We were just finishing up. We were seated closely at a table in my classroom working the last problem. She reached the end, and I told her, "Great job, Becks. You have this down." We were seated very close; her on my left. Faster than I could react, she put her right arm over my shoulder and around my head and kissed me. This was no chaste peck, but a full-on, open-mouth kiss. Stunned, I tried to pull away, but found, to my disbelief, that I couldn't. Her arm and hand held my head in place with surprising power. canlı bahis siteleri (http://www.pongp.com/) Her tongue plunged into my mouth and she moaned a little. Try as a might, this little 110-pound girl trapped me with seemingly little effort.
My left arm pinned against my body, I put my right hand on her shoulder and tried to get enough leverage to push myself free. Again, it was like pushing against a wall. In high school, I had wrestled (and lost to) a three-time state champion who was solid muscle. As badly as he'd handled me, I never felt so trapped as I did by Becky at that moment. I was starting to panic. I tried to say something, but her mouth covered mine; her tongue pressing mine into submission.
It was about to get worse.
Noticing my hand pushing feebly at her, Becky brought up her left arm, and grasp my wrist with her hand. Her grip was incredible - like someone had put a shackle one my wrist and keep cranking in down. First, she pulled my hand over her left breast. Her hand pressing mine into the firm B-cup. I could feel her hardened nipple through the fabric of her uniform shirt and lace of her wireless bra. She moaned again and clamped her iron grip around my wrist. I continued struggling to free my hand, but I was easily outmatched by her uncanny strength. Then Becky brought my hand down to her lap and started pushing it up her pleated uniform skirt. Freeing my lips, I tried begging meekly, "Becky, stop this. I can't. I won't..."
She loosened her grip around my head just slightly and in a breathy whisper replied, "Make me cum, Dr Jones." With that she pressed my cuffed hand against her panty canlı bahis (http://www.pongp.com/) covered sex and began moving it rhythmically. I could feel the cotton material of her panties already moistened in her excitement. The damp cotton tight over a felt of soft light pubic hair. I continued to try to pull my hand away, but she was just too strong. She pulled me into her. I could feel the folds of her wet teen pussy parting. If not for the pain, I would have been getting a hard on. This little girl had overpowered me without much more effort expended than one would going to get the mail. Now she was using me to pleasure herself, and I was helpless to stop her.
After a few moments of grinding my hand against her cotton covered pussy she started to gasp, "Oh god. Dr Jones, I'm cumming." The violent tongue kissing stopped, and she pulled me close against her. I could barely breath as she started to convulse with orgasm. I thought my neck would break as she climaxed against my aching hand. It was as violent a sexual explosion as I had ever seen in a woman in person or, even, in porn. I began to fear that she would actually injure me in her unconscious bliss.
As she crested her orgasmic hill and started to descend, she relaxed her grip around my neck and on my wrist. I took the opening to wrench myself away. The struggle left me exhausted. Becky looked like she could go run ten miles. "Becky, what the hell? Have you lost your mind?"
Gathering her own wits, Becky looked up, "Oh, come on, Dr. Jones. You know you loved it. You wouldn't have stayed after with me if you didn't think something might happen. You were asking for it. I bet you want even more. I know I do," She started to get up. Fearing what "more" might mean, and knowing I stood no chance of resisting her physically, I grabbed my coat and keys, and fled to my car hoping she wouldn't follow.