The Naughty Virgin
By: Cassandra DeeExcept she wasn’t empty.
Oh no, there was something jammed inside her pussy and I squinted, my hand working like a maniac up and down my fuckrod as I tried to see what was buried there. What the fuck? What could it be? I could make out something orange, maybe an orange toy of some sort? A little orange tampon that had gotten trapped up there somehow?
But the girl just moaned and panted, her cheek pressed against the cold hallway floor, and lightly rubbed her pussy again before hooking a finger in and popping out the orange object with a long moan. Oh fuck. The item dropped to the floor, bouncing a bit towards me and I finally saw what it was.
It was a kumquat. A tiny fruit the shape of an olive, with bright carroty skin just like a real orange, fleshy and round … and perfect for inserting into a girl’s pussy. It must have been her little secret, carrying it around in her hot space, like a bead massaging her vagina, an internal toy.
And now that it was out, the brunette was going at her clit like crazy, rubbing up and down, massaging the stiff nub in circles, her hand like a motor as her hole dripped juice, cream running wetly down her thighs.
And with a moan, a squeal, and a long gasp of “Ah ah ahs!”, the girl came hard, her pussy and ass clenching with ecstasy, those powerful muscles clamping down again and again, spasming as waves of pleasure seized her little body, her scream ringing out in the empty hallway.
I was fucking ready to go now as well, ram my dick hard into that swollen cunt, the miles of sweet, creamy flesh beckoning to me, already wet from desire. Except I stopped because the girl lifted her head and sighed, giving me a glimpse of that sweet face.
It was Evie Jones from my biology class. Sweet, sweet Evie with the curvy bod, the shy smile, and the big brown eyes that trailed me as I lectured. I’d always liked her, her thoughtful ways, her quiet demeanor, so different from a lot of the spoiled kids at Spencer. Well, what do you know. I’d come upon one of my favorite students, nude with her ass up in the air, frigging herself during a school dance. Life couldn’t get any better, my night had just been made.
Except common sense struck me like a blow to the head. I couldn’t let Evie know I’d seen, not now. So gritting my teeth, I forced my dick back in my pants, the bulge so fucking painful I wasn’t sure how I was going to chaperone the rest of the night, this boner showed no inclination of going down anytime soon. But force it in I did, and with a yank of my zip, I imprisoned the poor guy even as I stared at Evie’s round butt and gleaming pink bits, still dripping as she recovered from her orgasm.
Because I couldn’t let her know that I’d seen … not just yet. But I had plans for the sweet brunette. Oh yeah, big plans. Because I’m no saint, I’m a teacher, and my favorite student was about to get a big surprise.
CHAPTER THREE
Evie
Biology is my favorite subject and it’s not just because I’m pre-med. It’s because Stone Phillips, or Mr. Phillips as we call him, is an amazing instructor, making even the most difficult concepts seem cool.
“Everyone,” he’d say in that low growl. “What are we made of?”
A couple people yawned but a couple girls also raised their hands, eager to get his attention.
“Mr. Phillips, we’re seventy five percent water!” called Hannah, a brainy brunette with glasses as thick as goggles.
“True, true,” he said thoughtfully, nodding. “What else?”
“We’re meat sacks,” called some jock from the back, cackling at his own joke. “Just blood and guts waiting to spill out.”
Mr. Phillips nodded at that one too.
“That’s right, any other ideas?” he called.
And slowly, I raised my hand. Mr. Phillips’s deep blue eyes turned towards me and I shivered with sensation. God, his gaze was so penetrating, so arresting, that I could hardly breathe even though I tried not to show it.
“Are- are we made of dust?” I stuttered, cursing myself silently. “I mean, after we die and all, we become dust again, right?”
And the smile Mr. Phillips flashed took my breath away.
“You got it,” he said with casual assurance, “We are all stardust. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust.”
