Jan. Week 3: Frozen--Mr. Baker Finishes inside Leah's mouth...(Luck: -15, Suspicion: +5)

Leah was not about to let Mr. Baker dictate every little humiliating detail of her performance; she might have been stuck playing this fucked-up role, but she could at least script her own finale. As his thrusts grew wild and ****, she twisted her hips just so, feeling the way his cock shuddered inside her, knowing exactly what would finish him off. When he panted, “Gonna be a real blizzard for this money shot,” Leah locked eyes with the camera and made a show of pouting her lips in a perfect Disney-princess pout.

“No money shot on my face--or uh the ummm dress,” she said, her voice dripping with faux innocence. “If you’re so **** to cum, you’ll have to settle for my mouth. I’m not cleaning this shit out of my hair again.” She put on her best stuck-up Elsa voice, chin high, eyes cool, a queen laying down the law. “I want to taste it. You better give me all of it.” She even batted her mascara-thick lashes for good measure, knowing what it would do to him.

Mr. Baker blinked, thrown off just long enough to lose control. Leah let him slip free—then, with practiced efficiency, she sat up in front of the lens. She grabbed his slick, twitching cock and pumped it with both hands, her tongue lathing the head as if she were worshipping some depraved snowman idol.

“Let it go,” she sang out in a breathless parody, then sucked the head between her lips, flattening her tongue and hollowing her cheeks to maximize the sensation.

The camera caught every obscene slurp, every string of spit that hung between her lips and his head.

“You like that?” she mumbled while he pistoned in and out, his hand now cradling the back of her head like he was afraid she’d run away. “You want to watch Elsa suck your big, dirty cock? You want to see me swallow it all?” She could feel the vibration of his moan through his palm, hear the way his breathing went ragged and shallow.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, you’re gonna make me—” he started, but Leah didn’t wait. She bore down on his shaft, sucking hard, then pulled back just enough for him to erupt and so there was enough room to swallow easily. Mr. Baker’s hand immediately went to the back of her wig. He clutched it tight, but Leah didn’t flinch as he be The taste was already familiar, a mix of salt and sweat and power, but she made a show of moaning as if she were truly, pathetically grateful. She milked him with both hands, her lips tight around the head, swallowing the first thick gout before it could even hit the back of her throat. He kept cumming, more than she expected, and she gulped it all down, licking him clean and not pulling away until he was limp and oversensitive.

Leah licked her lips, looked up at the camera, and said in the flattest, most ice-cold voice, “The cold never bothered me anyway.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand—making sure to show off the glittery sleeve for dramatic effect. Mr. Baker slumped back onto the couch, spent and dazed, while Leah just sat there a moment, relishing the mingled taste of humiliation and victory.

"Well...I suppose that wasn't so bad either...damn...wew that felt good." he breathed heavily before turning off the camera and finding his clothes.

Leah peeled the dress off, glad there were no stains on the loaner costume, and slipped back into her teacher clothes.

When everything was stowed and the last evidence of their little shoot erased, Leah grabbed her bag, and made for the exit. The halls were silent. She glanced at the old analog clock on the wall and cursed—it was later than she’d hoped but since there was less clean up time needed Leah knew it wouldn't be AS bad when she showed up late--so long as he didn't ask too many questions or go in for a deep french kiss to taste the remains of Mr. Baker in her mouth...

By the time she reached her driveway, Leah was halfway convinced she could bluff her way through anything. She took a deep breath, braced herself, and went inside.