Lindsay

You take Tyler crush and position the dumb airhead before your big cock. Compare to everyone left, your cock is the biggest as Lindsay stares dumbly at your bulge. She licks her pink lips, her breath shallow like a cornered animal. "Um, is it gonna taste like candy?" Her voice trembles, thick with confusion and fear.

You grip her chin, forcing her gaze upward her blue eyes wide and unfocused, pupils dilated under the harsh lights. The scent of her strawberry shampoo clashes violently with the stale sweat and bleach fumes hanging heavy in the air. Your thumb brushes her lower lip, feeling its softness, while your other hand fumbles with your zipper.

"No... It won't. But if you want to help our team win, you'll have to hold my seed." Your voice was low and rough as you dragged Lindsay closer by her chin. The zipper's metallic rasp sliced through the cafeteria's thick silence, punctuated by Owen's eager grunts into Izzy and Gwen's choked whimper nearby.

Her pink tongue darted out nervously, grazing your thumb as you **** her jaw wider. "Stay still," you commanded, feeling her tremble vibrate through your grip. The crowd's murmurs swelled into a low roar, hungry for humiliation.

Heather watch as you slide your cock into her best friend Lindsay's mouth. She gave Lindsay a sharp nod, eyes narrow as she watched you press forward. Lindsay’s muffled whimper vibrated against your shaft as she struggled to accommodate your size, her lips stretched obscenely wide. The taste of salt and skin flooded her mouth a stark contrast to her lip gloss's synthetic cherry sweetness. Her eyes watered, tears tracking through grime on her cheeks as she fought not to gag, the **** flutter of her throat against your tip almost pleading.

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