She gets groped

Izzy slipped lithely into the crowd. She didn’t see Gwen anywhere. Without any link to socialization, she found herself simply standing near the outskirts of the group, eavesdropping on different conversations. She was listening to a pair of girls discuss their new roo—

Therewasahandonherass.

There was a hand on her ass.

Someone’s hand was on Izzy’s cute little bottom, lightly squeezing a legging-covered asscheek. She froze, turning her head just slightly, so that her peripheral vision could pick up…

A guy.

A guy was grabbing her ass!

Izzy fought down the immediate urge to moan. Her pussy started to drool, overjoyed at the unexpected male attention. She fidgeted, desperately wanting to either play with herself or melt into her molester, but was scared that any action on her part might stop him. Instead, she **** herself to stay still, letting him toy with her rear as he liked—and doing her best to memorize every second of the experience.

His fingers explored each of her cheeks, pinching and squeezing like he owned them. They slowly climbed toward the waist of her leggings, and Izzy’s breath started to accelerate.

He’s going to put his hand down my pants! Fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes!, Izzy thought, desperately fighting the urge to squirm… or to cum, for that matter.

His fingers reached the waistband… they pulled back the stretchy fabric… a fingertip brushed bare skin… aaaand…

The hand left. What?! Why?! Where is it?!

Unable to stop herself, Izzy whirled. She found her molester walking away, having been called by a pair of giggling blondes. He turned briefly toward Izzy, smirked meanly, then looked back to the fawning bimbos. Fuming at the bimbos, Izzy stomped into the crowd.

Fucking sexist bully, Izzy thought. Mean ass… groping… fucking… piece of…

…

God, I hope he's on my floor…