Better Earn That A

Professor Cherie DeVille was tired of her stepdaughter's endless demands. Ivy leaned across the desk, still hissing that her father married an uptight bitch. Cherie snapped. She took two strides, caught Ivy by the waist, and slammed her back against the chalkboard. Her body came flush with Ivy's, her mouth taking the girl's before another insult could form. Their tongues met hard. Ivy's anger turned wet at once; she could feel the slick heat spreading through her panties, sticky between her thighs. Cherie's hand slid up her ribcage and over the swell of her breast until she squeezed. Ivy gasped. Then Cherie's hand was under her skirt, fingers sliding straight through dripping cotton to find bare, soaked flesh. Ivy's legs opened wider without a word. Cherie went down fast, yanking the panties to mid-thigh and diving in. She spread Ivy open with both thumbs and licked every fold, slow then quick, finishing with a sharp suck on her clit that made Ivy's knees buckle. Ivy came against the chalkboard, breath broken, fingers knotting in her stepmother's hair. She barely waited for the shakes to stop before dropping to her knees herself. She shoved Cherie's pencil skirt higher, pulled the thin lace aside, and pressed her tongue deep, tasting salt and heat. Cherie pressed her cunt forward, riding Ivy's mouth until her own climax hit, hard enough that she braced one hand against the board and dragged a groan straight from her chest. Ivy kept licking, slower now, gentle, drawing every tremor out of her until both women were shaking and breathless, skin flushed and sticking to their clothes.