Page 7 of The Naughty Virgin

I let out a little whine of disappointment, my eyes flicking to his, still on my knees.

“No little girl,” he said getting up and standing, that big cock practically in my face now, making me hungry. “Girls who suck do it naked.”

And I gasped. Naked? Me? Here at school in the middle of the day with people walking around outside?

The alpha male just grinned again, striding around the classroom, pulling down the shades and locking the door. We were now in a darkened space, not black but dimly lit, and I knew from the outside it’d look like an empty classroom. I could hear a few muffled conversations outside, the slam of a couple lockers, but otherwise there was no indication that anything was different.

“You’re lucky,” the big man said, sitting back down in front of me. “It’s lunchtime so people are gone and no one’s gonna suspect. Now take off your clothes,” he commanded.

I paused for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes before slowly getting to my feet. Was I going to do this? Was I really?

But the thing is that Mr. Phillips was literally the man of my dreams, the guy that I thought about when I was alone in bed, teasing myself with my fingers, moaning with ecstasy. He was literally the stuff of fantasies except now it was real … and we were about to play.

So slowly, I grasped the hem of my sweater in both hands and pulled it over my head, shaking my curls free. I took a deep breath before sneaking a look at him and was immediately gratified, my cheeks coloring, my body heating up to a thousand degrees.

Because the big man was entranced, his gaze riveted by my girls, the luscious, creamy orbs encased in a lacy demi-bra, the pale pink material cupping my breasts lovingly, showing off their pale bellies in the dim light.

“You like?” I murmured, slowly tracing a finger along my décolletage, teasing him, running my finger into the deep valley between my girls.

“Little girl,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I fucking love.”

And I giggled then, my hands going to the back clasp and undoing it with a quick snap. Slowly, I eased the straps over my shoulders, stroking them off until my breasts were revealed in their full glory, pendulous, hanging, perfect ovoids with stiff red nipples at the tips.

Coyly, I ran my fingers around both nips, tracing the sensitive flesh before flashing a look at him and cooing again.

“They taste really good,” I sighed. “You wanna try?”

And the big man was literally struck speechless, his eyes riveted by my movements, his cock out now, one hand going up and down that huge shaft in a rhythmic stroke, the veins pulsing, balls high and tight.

“I want to taste it,” he growled low in his throat, so turned on that the words were a little garbled, hard to understand. “I need a taste.”

But it was my turn to be in charge and so I shook my head coyly.

“No tastes for you, big guy,” I cooed. “Only for me.”

And with that, I lifted one of my girls up and licked the nipple, savoring the sweet bud, running my tongue around and around, electrical sparks shooting straight from my nip to my clit.

“Oh,” I moaned between nips and licks, “Oh oh, tastes good,” I murmured wickedly.

And the big man just groaned, his hand a blur on his shaft now. There was so much pre-cum that his pole was completely wet, his fist easily pumping away, stroking through the copious lube, so much that it pooled on the chair, making a sticky mess.

“Now for the other,” I said coyly, and lifted my left boob to my lips for a taste, doing the same with this nipple. Except this time, I gave myself a little love bite, delicately nipping my tip with small white teeth, flirting with Mr. Phillips through my lashes the entire time.

“Imagine my teeth on your cock,” I sighed breathily. “Imagine how that’s going to feel.”

And the big man stopped all motion, his body rock hard, that huge dick pointed straight at me. I guess he was getting desperate, perilously close to the edge because there were no longer any full sentences.

“Clothes. Off,” he commanded, his voice hoarse, his eyes ravenous.

And with a giggle, I obeyed. I shimmied out of my skirt, pulling the fabric sensuously over my hips before kicking them away, and then played with the waistband of my panties, lightly tugging, teasing him, making the big man salivate. And god, but Stone’s dick was literally weeping now, there was a steady stream of sperm dripping from the tip to the floor, a pool of pre-cum that I longed to taste.

“You wanna see?” I breathed, snapping the waistband. My fingers crept down to my cunt and I lightly trailed it over my fleshy lips, the material soaking wet. “You wanna see?”

But before he could say anything, I did the deed. I hooked the material in one of my fingers and pulled it to the side, showing him my pretty pussy, the swollen lips, the clit so stiff and achy that it pushed out between my labia, begging to be touched. Leaning back a little, I canted my hips forward so that he could get a better view and even spread my legs a bit, squatting so that my hole opened up, winking at him.

“See?” I purred throatily. “My kitty wants you.” And at that moment, a bead of pussy cream coalesced at my vaginal entrance and slowly dripped off, a long string of ooze dropping from my cunt to the floor.

“I’m creaming for you, Mr. Phillips,” I breathed. “My kitty’s dying for you.”

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