Blair Rewards you

You catch snippets of Layla leaving the shower, the water incapable of washing away her post-climax flush. She doesn’t acknowledge Blair, who’s giving you a fantastic show of washing, rubbing the shower gel into her naked body, as the water slides over her pale flesh. Layla doesn’t acknowledge Blair when she does leave the shower.

After the shower, Blair stands naked before you, drying herself, an act further eroticised by the fact Blair knows you’re watching. She spends a lot of time running the towel under her breasts so that they jiggle provocatively. It takes five minutes for her to dry herself, prolonged because she has no intention of getting dressed. She’s just waiting until Layla leaves.

“I’m going,” Layla tells her out of sight.

“Right. You go. I’ll lock up.”

Blair stands there watching, waiting. You hear the door close. Then Blair disappears. She returns, still naked, and heads straight to your locker. It’s open and her hand is on your erect cock, pulling you out of the locker.

“You enjoyed the show.” Tug, tug on your cock. “Show me how much you enjoyed it.”

She presses her naked body against your naked body. Her lips mash with your lips. She guides you to the bench. Makes you sit. Pushes your bare ass against the wood. Straddles you. Slowly sinks down, guiding your jutting monster into her wet and needy slit.

“God. You don’t know what **** it was knowing this was in reach and I couldn’t enjoy it. I never thought Layla would go.”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck her.”

“That would be fun, watching her squirm on this beauty. But she’s not ready for it. When it comes to men, she’s all squeamish. She’ll let a woman do whatever she likes to her. But when it comes to cock, she’ll scream and rush off to the old biddies at the top spouting nonsense about sexual harassment. If you could get your wonderful cock inside her, the only screaming she’d be doing is begging for more. It’s getting it inside her that’s the problem.”

Blair rides you, one foot on the bench, one foot on the floor, thighs lifting her, letting her drop, her wonderful fat breasts rising and falling before you. You can’t help yourself. Your hands reach out to grasp and mould the soft flesh. Your tongue snakes out to dampen them, concentrating on the hard nipples and the hot areola. She groans her appreciation.

“You imagining what Layla’s pussy feels like?”

“No. I’m just enjoying yours.”

“Right answer. When you’re with me, you don’t imagine others. But think about it. A pussy unplundered by cock, knowing only tongue, fingers and dildo. What would that feel like?” She slaps you from your imagining. “No. You enjoy mine. I might let you fuck Layla. I haven’t decided yet. No more fucking Krystal. This cock belongs to me. If you’re a good boy, I’ll let it taste others.”

{if Brianna > 4}If only she knew.{endif}

Then all your attention is taken by the beauty before you, the pussy on your cock, the breasts bouncing into your face. Talk becomes impossible, as pleasure washes over you both. You’re already worked up. The memory of the taste of Layla keeps intruding. The idea that you’re fucking in the girls’ changing rooms enhances the eroticism. Thankfully Blair is equally stimulated. You only just hold on before her orgasm. When that hits you have no chance. You release yourself inside her just as she’s shuddering and gasping for breath.

She hugs you as she shivers, squeezing your face between her breasts. The two of you stay like that for minutes. You could stay like that for hours. Trapped between the soft mounds of her breasts, hearing her heart pound in ecstasy, the warmth of her insides slowing your deflation.

Finally, she stands up, releasing you.

“God, if you had stamina, you could claim every woman in this school.” She catches you chin with one hand and directs your face to look into her eyes. “But you won’t. Because you’re mine. A dick like that is wasted on most women. Now get dressed.”

She directs you to the locker next to the one you’d been confined in, where she’d hidden your clothes. The two of you get dressed.