Page 57 of The Rivals' Touch

“If there’s an intent behind every action, then every intent has an intent behind the intent.”

Her smile widens. “Is that so?”

I give in, grinding my pussy against her hand. “Tell me, what’s your intent behind the intent?” I whimper softly. “Fuck!”

She squeezes my sex.

“Your intent is to make me wet, but why?”

“So I can drag you out of here and fuck you senseless.”

I bite my lip. “And the intent behind that? It’s like a funhouse. The intentions never stop until you get down to the root intent that birthed every intention that came after.”

“Sssh! Just feel!”

“How are we getting on here?” the teacher asks, stopping at our table.

I startle, my clit pulsing.

Legacy smiles up at him. “Fantastic. We’re discussing question three. Remi here seems to think that every intention has an intention behind it. Like layers of an onion. If you peel away enough layers, you’ll eventually get down to the first one that birthed every layer after that.”

His eyes cut to mine. “Excellent point, Remi.”

I grip the edge of the desk and hold back another moan. “Thanks?”

“What then birthed the first intent?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Legacy unbuttons my jeans.

“Can intent exist without a higher consciousness?” I counter, biting back a whimper.

“And hence wherefrom came consciousness? Excellent questions, ladies. I’ll let you keep discussing.”

I breathe a sigh of relief when he walks over to another desk.

Legacy whispers, “Has a girl ever licked your cunt before?”

Jesus…My pussy contracts.

“I’ve never even kissed a girl until you came along.”

She likes my reply if her seductive smile is anything to go by. “Have you ever fantasized about girls?”

I have now. “No…”

She flashes a dirty smile and lowers my zipper. “No?”

“Have you?” I whisper, circling my fingers around her wrist again.

“I used to watch you at the games: the way you smiled, the shape of your legs when you performed the scorpion or the heel stretch. I used to wonder what you smelled like.”

I loosen my grip on her wrist, and she wastes no time teasing my panty line with her fingers.

“Now I know.”

My breath hitches. “Know what?”

“You smell sweet, like a mixture of vanilla and coconut. It reminds me of a tropical holiday.”

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