I wonder what tomorrow’s view will bring.
Will the janitor enter and do his thing?
As the last school bell’s rung
And he’s horny and well hung,
Will he clean up and make her pussy sing?

--Ashley

Marking the Territory

Bethie wasn’t sure whether it was to get even with Todd or to get him back, but she knew it was something she had to do. She dawdled after cheerleading practice, and when she was sure the building was empty, she made her way to homeroom, pulled up her skirt, pressed her pubis against the corner of Todd’s desk, and made small hip motions, nudging her sex, her clit, against the rounded corner. The idea was to drench the edge of Todd’s desk with her girl cum, but at first she found it difficult to reach a sufficient level of juiciness. Her mind insisted on replaying Todd kissing Carol in the otherwise empty art room yesterday afternoon. That slutty Carol! What if they did more than kiss? She’d never forgive Todd. She’d ... She’d bite his dick off. Such thoughts weren’t conducive to arousal. But picturing Todd’s dick, the rugged handsomeness of it in her hand, the taste and texture of it in her mouth, the fabulous force and fullness of it in her cunt, did the trick. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, her song of approaching orgasm. “Yes, oh yes, oh yes.” And she was just about to gazz, so close, so close, so close, when she heard the click of the door, and she was too close to stop, too close to do anything but come.