Detention Dress-Code Distractions

Gal Ritchie stands at the board, chalk squeaking as she writes the same sentence again and again. Her skirt barely covers the bottom of her ass. Valentina Nappi watches from her desk, pen tapping, remembering the three prior detentions for the exact same skirt. Chalk slips. Gal bends at the waist, slow and deliberate. No panties. Smooth skin, bare pussy on display. Valentina’s breath catches. Heat blooms between her legs. She stands. Walks over. Pulls Gal’s hips back until that ass presses firm against her. “Different rules today,” she says. She hikes the skirt higher, then guides Gal to the desk. Valentina sits on the girl’s face, thighs bracketing Gal’s mouth, grinding until she feels that eager tongue push inside. Wetness smears across Gal’s lips and chin. Valentina reaches into the bottom drawer, pulls out a harness already fitted with a thick strap-on. She stands, buckles it, spits on the head, then presses the slick length between Gal’s folds. One hard thrust and she’s buried deep. She fucks her in steady strokes, one hand gripping Gal’s hair, the other slapping her ass each time the girl tries to push back. Gal moans into the wood of the desk, legs shaking, skirt bunched uselessly at her waist. Valentina keeps going until the strap is glossy with come and Gal is panting, face down, thoroughly taught.