…the first class she has not yet ideas and fantasies as part of her learning process at all.” Then Father chipped in, saying that we (I didn’t begin it) really must stop this eternal wrangling; he really could not stand it. He’s quite right, but what he said won’t do any good, for Teresa will go on just the same. Novella wrote that she was delighted that I had written. As soon as I have time she wants me to write to her again. Great Scrott, I’ve always time for her. I shall write to her again this evening after supper, so as not to keep her waiting, because she is, or at least she was, a good girl. The type of good girl who drove her roommates crazy by insisting on washing anus and genitals up after a big party,” just in case”, she kept repeating, “if some good man want to dive into your hair, licking you all over, passing his tongue in every orifices, you don’t want the wine and beer – processed and pissed – fishy smell fester until morning”.
Novella knew what she was saying and another standard principle of her was: “a smart woman never goes to a date without having first evacuated completely her bowel movements”. I do know why, now. Every date is marked on the diary, and in her letter I can find excerpts of her diary. Now she is having private lesson on History of Economics, Sunday morning, very early, and yet she consider those lessons as dates. She wrote: “kiss prof. Giovannino Sechi”, and that was the name of her new personal tutor, who was obviously unaware of her plans. “Fuck prof. Giovannino Sechi”, was there on another page and, last but not least, I got this: “Anal sex with prof. Giovannino Sechi”.
It was her writing, her plan, not his. She didn’t have to. She could refuse to even go on the first lesson with him. And yet, for some reason, she went. The third Sunday, he bend her over his bed, lube up her ass, not her virgin ass, nobody can possibly be virgin in the ass, and drive his cock home. That thought is between us, Novella and me, every night.
July 29th. I simply could not write yesterday. I masturbated all day and night, something I had only done a handful of times in my life, but I was captured, after learning about Novella’s tutoring classes.
I slid one hand into my panties and touched my clit, thinking of prof. Giovannino Sechi fucking me and Novella together. Not just fucking her and me, but pouring the lube into his hand and oiling me up between my rear cheeks. Getting me nice and wet, as I was now touching myself, ready for his big banana. The vision was making me so wet, I’d have to wash my sheets in the morning, Novella would have understood otherwise, and it wasn’t even laundry day. But what was wrong if Novella understood? It could be actually better. Maybe I would’t wash the sheets. Maybe I invite Novella in my bed and revel her in my sultry scent all week long while waiting and dreaming prof. Sechi to do my ass as hi did hers.
July 30th. Prof. Giovannino Sechi did not even start his lesson with Novella this morning. He simply walked her to her room. He shut the door behind them and started taking off her clothes. She was ready. “Did you do your homework?” he asked, mouth moving down her fat belly to her pussy. Her boyfriend did not want to follow her in the East, because she was too fat, he complained, and decided to stay in Turin. But now she had finally found somebody willing to kiss her pussy even if she was fat like a cow, a 54 years old professor, whose hanger for sex could have only been compared to his hanger for money. He gave her lessons, during those lessons he fucked her ass repededly, and yet her mother had to pay for that unofficial sort of “tuition”. He was on his knees, staring up at her. Lick the pussy and fuck the asshole, that was the plan. Pussy must be licked. Ass must be fucked. That was the first rule for prof. Giovannino Sechi. He was going to split those fat cheeks of her back, pour on a river of lube, and fuck her big fat asshole. “Do it now” she begged, shocking me at her own boldness. She was unable to stop herself “please” she went on. It’s all I would have thought about for the next two weeks. Why did she not invite me too? Why was she so evil to keep this prodigal teacher for herself only? Was this not very selfish of her?..