Try Hard to do homework

You get back to looking at your homework. Your eyes keep drifting over to Sam's ass, which she's slowly rocking whenever your gaze shifts; it's like she knows. The saucy barista has hair almost as long as Mariah's, but it's a chestnut brown instead of cherry red. You keep licking your lips and your brain is only processing half of your sex-ed homework.

Mariah's blow job the other day, Sam's ass straining and that skirt stretching higher, barely teasing the slimmest hints of her green lace panties, homework talking about multiple partners. Mariah's tits hanging free that one day in class, the cups of Sam's green bra peeking over the top, erogenous zones.

You're hard as iron. Hell, you're stroking your dick through your jeans and so distracted and flushed you don't even realize that Sam is standing at your table.

"Hey Sugar," she says in her sexy accent. Georgia. She's told you so on multiple occassions, and that's one Georgia peach you want to eat. You weren't expecting her and you jumped, jerking your hand away from your crotch. She giggled and sat a grande down in front of you.

"Whatcha working on?" she asked, bending over, giving you a magnificent view of her cleavage. You lick your lips and think you can see the barest hint of a dusty pink nipple. You come to your senses enough to reply.

"Home work."

"Sex Ed?" she giggled as he eyes scanned the page and your answers quickly. You blush and nod, wanting to throw the coffee-slinging hottie on the table and ravage her. You turn the page, your eyes back on Sam's tits. Her eyes get big for a second and she smiles a wickedly dirty smile.

"Well. That's interesting," she says and takes a quick breath, her eyes glued to your homework.