Kiss the girl

“Well,” you say, facing her and running your hands over her jacket. “When you put it like that.” You rise up on your toes to kiss her lips, and she enfolds you in her arms, kissing you back hungrily. She’s strong, and a little rough. Not much technique, but a lot of warmth and passion. You wrap your arms around her neck and enjoy it. So does she, and she stays focused longer than you thought she would before her hands start to move down your back.

“Oh!” you say as your backside bumps against the desk, but she’s there to cover your mouth again, her hand on your hip. “You still tender back here?” you ask, giving her rear a squeeze. She replies by kissing your neck and sliding a hand under your sweater.

You laugh as she gives you hickies and fumbles blindly with your bra like it’s her first time. She gets it open. There’s no easy way for her to get it off, but now she can get her hands under it, and she’s all over your breasts as she pushes her tongue into your mouth and leans into you.

“You are so beautiful,” she mumbles around the kiss as you run your hands through her hair. Her hand slides down your stomach, into your jeans and underwear.

“Mmm.” You bury your face in her neck and clutch at her hair. She’s better at this than at getting bras off. You can’t bluff anymore; she can feel how wet you are. “Yes.” Your toes curl in your sneakers. Her warm palm presses against your hard nipple as she squeezes your breast, and her fingers aren’t inside you for long before you’re gasping and whimpering.

She pulls them out and cups your slick, swollen mound, rubbing softly as she looks into your eyes. She’s as flushed as you are, and her sweaty bangs are stuck to her forehead.

She moves her hands to your hips, and before you can react, she hoists you onto the desk.

Short of breath, you lean back to let her unbutton your jeans. Without ceremony, she yanks them, along with your underwear, down. You lift your bottom off the desk to make it easy for her. Your shoes are still on. She gets your jeans and panties down to your knees and gives up. The wooden desk is cold against your rear end, but you’re too busy spreading your legs as wide as you can.

Roxy gets down on her knees and buries her tongue in you.

You plant one hand on her head and lean forward with a hiss, biting your knuckle. She was good with her fingers, but she’s even better with her tongue, flicking it rapidly around your clit, then lapping deeply at your lips.

With your jeans sliding down your calves to bunch up around your shoes, you lie back on Professor Austen’s desk, catching a glimpse of the bookshelf behind you. Inspiration doesn’t always strike you when there’s another girl with her tongue inside you, but it does tonight.

You sit up sharply.

Roxy pulls back, her mouth and chin wet with your juices.

“I have an idea,” you pant.

She looks up at you with the most **** puppy eyes.

“Can it wait?” she asks.

You sit there, panting, warmth and pleasure tingling all over. Not just pleasure… need.

“It doesn’t have to wait,” you say breathlessly, scooting back on the desk and flipping over to get to your knees. It’s not dignified. It’s downright scandalous, and on a teacher’s desk… but you do plan on being the next leader of CCL, after all.

You look back over your shoulder and wiggle your hips, pointing your dripping pussy at Roxy.

“Don’t stop,” you say.

She hesitates, wide-eyed, then grabs your bottom and dives back in.

“Oh god,” you gasp, jerking and shuddering. OK. With Roxy’s tongue back in action, you bite your lip and lean down to open the desk drawer. It’s hard to concentrate, but you flip through the green grade books there, pulling one out and opening it. Mouth open, breathing hard, you flip the pages.

Your eyes close and you moan as Roxy’s lips gently squeeze your clit. Her hand runs through your wet push, and a finger slides inside you.

A dot of moisture appears on the page below you, and you shut your mouth. It’s so good that you just drooled. Roxy didn’t notice. It’s OK. You flip the pages until you find Sissy.

Like you thought, her grades were bad… until they weren’t. It doesn’t take a genius to figure this out.

Your hips shake and your thighs squeeze together. You let yourself down to the table, your cheek resting against the cool page as you reach orgasm, a powerful throbbing in your core and numbness spreading between your legs.

You can still see, and there’s another name on the list that you recognize: Lisey’s.

You didn’t know that Lisey was in this class with Sissy.

“Shit!” You flip over and sit up, reaching for your jeans. Roxy flinches. She’s standing there, in the act of unbuttoning her own jeans. “We have to go. We have to hurry.”

“What? Where are we going?” Roxy asks, puppy eyes on again, but you don’t care.

“I’ll tell you on the way,” you say, fastening your jeans and hopping off the desk. Your legs are wobbly, but you’re ready to run.

Group up with the others first?

Or just go with Roxy?