Lunch, and reflection.

The girls leave after much giggling and some more kisses, giving you little finger waves as they leave your cottage and shut the door behind them.

You're hungry, but you don't want to show up in the dining hall smelling like teen pussy, some of the teachers seem a little too observant. Gathering up your clothes, you throw them into your room before hitting the shower and lathering the evidence of your morning away.

As it turns out, you had little to worry about. The teacher's table is largely empty except for a group gathered at one end obviously debating something. You ignore them, sitting at the other end of the table to eat as you survey the students in the hall, recognising a few that you've fucked, and many more that you'd like to. You're aware of glances cast your way, and heads huddling together and giggling.

Pink Rose is a hunter's paradise, you smile to yourself. And you barely have to hunt, with the bitches beating down your door to get their cunts pumped full of cock meat. Three more of these sluts to go in this contest, you think, wondering which of them might be in this room right now, plotting her ambush.