Noelle

“Alright. Noelle, why don’t you spin first.”

The mousy brunette lands on Michael. They both stand in the middle of the circle, and the black boy immediately goes for Noelle’s bust — what you would have done as well with how it bulges beneath her pinafore. He fondles Noelle’s ass with his the other hand, and pushes her to grind against his dick for the remainder of that time. When he’s done, the brunette tumbles back into her seat, her cheeks already flushed beneath her thick, black-frame spectacles.

Not one to give up an advantage, you caress her upper thigh with your free hand, causing her to tremble even more. On the other side of the sofa, Darwin is thrusting his fingers into Abigail’s pussy.

Since you’re next to Noelle, you’re the next to spin. It lands directly opposite you — on Abigail. Darwin withdraws his fingers for her to stand, and she lets out a quick gasp.

“Horny already?” you ask her as you accompany her to the middle of the room. She nods breathlessly.

“Let’s just take a slow hug then,” you say. You kiss her neck, biting down where it meets her shoulder and causing her to moan. While she doesn’t have much of a chest, your hands do land on her ass, and cupping her buttcheeks, you push her stomach around your swollen cock.

Someone says something, signalling your time is up. You return to your seat, the excitement finally bringing your cock back to full mast after its previous exhaustions.

Wynnona is next. The bottle lands squarely on Abigail, and she motions to spin again, but you motion for her to go ahead. The two prefects, when they reach the center, exchange a slow, but heated kiss. Abigail is hot enough that halfway through, she begins to rub her nipples against the bigger girl’s chest, and when the thirty seconds are up, she returns to her seat reluctantly. Darwin’s hands are already waiting for her — and despite herself she moans to welcome them.

“Remember, if you cum first, you lose. And our two black studs will have their way with you.”

“Mm,” Abigail says. But it’s clear she wants relief more than anything.

The next spin is Darwin’s. He lands on Abigail, and as she rises to her feet for the second time there’s an evil glint in his eyes. His plan soon becomes obvious. As Abigail wobbles to the centre of the room, squeezing her thighs together in desperation, he just stands in front of her, slipping a hand through the gap in her skirt and running it up her slender thighs, thumb probing away at the entrance of her slit. His mouth has somehow latched on to a nipple through the two layers of clothing, and it’s this which he milks away at down. Abigail’s heavy breathing only slows when she returns to her seat.

But it’s her turn next, something which she’s evidently forgotten. Her face collapses in resigned despair when the bottle passes to her. It lands on you, and you briefly contemplate whether to get her off, or show her some mercy... and prolong her suffering.