barebackbreeding: Des Des was a soccer mom. A real soccer mom. She wasn’t one of those size 0 bimbos

barebackbreeding: Des Des was a soccer mom. A real soccer mom. She wasn’t one of those size 0 bimbos that seemed to always be portraying her life on TV or in movies. She was more of a mini-van driving, occasional beer drinking, gym membership owning (but rarely going), woman with far too many things to do on a normal day to fit into twenty four hours. Marrying young, then having three kids that had become her full time job shuttling around for most of their lives, had certainly made her a bit thicker, but John had never complained. A smile touched her lips as she remembered this morning, after her last son had gotten on the bus, and John had ten minutes to spare. He hadn’t minded at all when he took her from behind in the kitchen. One of the major benefits that she enjoyed as well, was her big boobs, or her ‘awesome rack’ as she had overhead one of her older son’s friends refer to them as once. Boobs that, she hoped, she would be putting to full use in a few minutes. She fumed slightly as she walked down the halls of the highschool, looking for Mr. Stanton’s room. Was it the second left, or was there a right turn in there somewhere? She chose left, again, and kept moving. After getting two kids through high-school successfully you’d think I could remember where things were here. For today she had specifically worn a bra and top combo that would showcase her assets very nicely. Her meeting with Mr. Stanton had to go well, and she was by no means above using every tool in her toolbox to make things easier. “Ah, finally” she mumbled, spying a familiar landmark. His classroom was just a few more up on the right. She slowed her pace, smoothed out her top (Check The Girls again, looking good.. prominent, but not slutty..) switched her purse from her right hand to her left, took a deep breath, and knocked on the government standard boring wooden door with it’s tiny window. “Come.” A voice called from within. Des tried the knob, found it unlocked, and opened the door, moving into what could have been a classroom from pretty much any era in US history. They always look pretty much to the same, baring a few technology updates (very few, she noted looking around).  At the far end of the room, past rows of almost perfectly aligned student desks, was Mr. Stanton’s large, oakish looking desk. He looked up from a stack of papers, realized it was not a student coming in, and so stood, moving smoothly around one side to shake her hand. “Ah, Mrs. Clark, good to see you. Have a seat.” He motioned to a real chair setup near the right side of his desk, thankfully not a student one. Des took a seat, drawing the chair a bit closer to the desk and facing him more squarely. Mr. Stanton was tall, towering over her five foot five frame. Des made sure to take her time placing her purse under the chair, leaning forward. Just in case he wanted a longer look. Satisfied, she sat up, Mr. Stanton having waited patiently for her to finish getting settled. “So..” “You read the email I sent, yes?” “I did, I was..” “David is failing. Not one, not two, but three of the classes he has with me.” Des paused, unsure if he was done, or if she started talking would he just interrupt her again. Deciding that he was done she carried on. “ I know, Mr. Stanton.. may I call you Bill?” “I prefer ‘Mr. Stanton’.” “uh.. okay, I see.” A bit flustered, she hadn’t lost control of the conversation mainly because it seemed she was never in control of it. “Mr. Stanton, I know. We work with him at home as much as we can but there are only so many hours in the day, and he tries, really he does..: she leaned forward more, in earnest, as well as to perhaps distract him some “it’s just, he just doesn’t work.. fast.” Mr. Stanton was leaning back in his chair, regarding her with an unreadably look on his face, he could have been staring at a wall for all of the impact her words seemed to be having. “He has time for that.” He gestured towards the window. Des looked out, and saw some distance away the practice fields. “Oh, well yes, he loves soccer.” The realizing her potential faux pas inferring that he didn’t love Mr. Stanton’s lessons “It’s his only outlet really, outside of video games. He loves soccer, we’re hoping he keeps up with it, and maybe it can help him get into a college.” “I see, well” he sat forward, putting his elbows on his desk “it certainly doesn’t seem like it will be due to his academics.” It was apparent appealing to his human nature wasn’t getting her anywhere. Des knew he had been in the Marines, but she assumed being out a decade or so would have softened the man. From the looks of it there was very little soft about him. The man was not only tall, and still had his Marine high and tight, but he still worked out religiously it seemed. Mr. Stanton took her silence to mean he should go on. “I am concerned. This is the second grading session, and with this much damage already done, it will be difficult for him to make up, let me put it that way.” Des realized she had started to wring her hands a little, a bad habit from her own school days when she was being berated in a similar manner by a teacher. “I, we, we will work harder Sir. I’ll see if maybe I can get him a tutor? Would that be a good idea?” “It would be a start, at least.” He said dismissively. Mr. Stanton turned his gaze to the window, and the soccer fields in the distance, thinking. “We will do anything, Sir, if you think it will help.” “You.” “umm, sorry?” He turned back to Des. “You will need to be do anything to help, I doubt your son cares at all if he passes or fails, so the onus falls, upon, you.” He enunciated the last three words very distinctly. “I, I will do anything then.” Mr. Stanton seemed to take that into consideration, looking at Des with apprising eyes. “Will you?” “Yes, anything. Whatever it is you think needs to be done, I will make sure it gets done.” He regarded her for a few seconds, then seemed to come to a decision. “Fine, I’ll give you once chance.” He stood, Des, a bit confused, stood after. He seemed to tower over her this close. “He has practice after school today, yes?” “uh, yes.” “Good. Report to me, here, after you have dropped him off. While he is at practice, you will be working for him.” “Okay, great! I’ll be here a bit after 4:30 then with bells on!” She kicked herself mentally as soon as those words were out of her mouth, cringing a little. “Just yourself will be fine. No bells required.” He said, a bit of amusement in his voice as he ushered her towards the door. “Just remember what you said, and what is at stake if he, or you, fail.” He said as they were at the door. “I do, I will.” “Good, see you this afternoon.” The door closed behind her. Later, after her normal back and forth shuttling her two still in the nest from school, to home, get changed, to the library with one, then back to school for practice, Des found herself retracing her steps from the morning. She had meant to change clothes once home, but hadn’t had time, her hip hugging jeans quietly swishing as she walked, quickly, down the halls again. At least she would get her steps in today. Once at his door she took a quick look at her watch, it was 4:42. Not great time, but she had hustled, so at least she didn’t feel guilty about the twelve minutes it had taken her to get from the fields to the class. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she knocked on the door. “Enter.” She did, finding he room much as it had been before. Mr. Stanton was at the window this time, looking out over the lawn towards where soccer practice was going on.   Joining him at the window she squinted, trying to distinguish who was who out there, but at this distance it was not possible she decided. Instead she motioned to the rightmost field. “That’s where he is practicing, though I can’t tell which one he is.” Mr. Stanton observed that field for a few moments, then turned and started walking towards the door. He pointed towards the spot where the chair had been this afternoon, but was now missing. “If you’d please go stand over there.” Des, a bit confused, moved to where he had indicated, standing near his desk in the clear space between the student’s desks and the white board. Mr. Stanton closed the door she had left open. “Opps, sorry.” Des said meekly. He turned, and with a flick of the knob locked the door as well. “I.. forgot to close it. Sorry.” She added, cursing herself for being so nervous. Mr. Stanton simply walked back to where she stood. “Do you remember our conversation from today?” “um, yes, of course.” He nodded, then, to her surprise, started to circle her. Not sure what to to she started to turn to keep facing him. “I didn’t tell you to turn around. Keep facing the back of the room.” “I.. uh..” “Do you know what I find in most cases like this, Mrs. Clark?” “W..what?” She tried to follow him with her eyes even though he was behind her now, both useless, and it made her eyes hurt. She blinked to clear them. “It’s rarely the child’s fault.” “Well, but we try to work with him on his homework, but John is always working late and.” “.. and life is always so busy. I know. Is that a valid excuse though?” “I, guess not.” Mr. Stanton was standing in front of her again, a few feet away, but she still had to look up to meet his gaze. “No. What I find is that the parents always have excuses, but never have any effective input.” Des’ mouth opened and closed a few times, completely unsure how to respond. “If your son doesn’t pass he will have to repeat the grade. If he repeats the grade, and I assume he will still do poorly academically, it will look terribly bad on his record.” She nodded in agreement, that she could understand. “But this issue, Mrs. Clark, is that there is no mathematically valid way for him to pass at this point by simply raising his grades. It is too late.” “That’s why I’m here, right? To help fix things?” “yes. “okay, let’s get started then” she looked around, expecting to find books, or something that looked like it was relevant to this conversation “what do I need to do?” He regarded her upturned face for a moment before responding. “Take off your blouse.” He said quietly. Des’ mind slipped a gear or two. “I, sorry what?” “You asked what you needed to do in order to make sure your son passes. The first step is to take off your blouse.” “What?! No!” Des crossed her arms in front of her chest instinctively, and started to move past him. His words stopped her though. “This is your one chance, Mrs. Clark. You walk out that door he fails. His academic record is destroyed, and no one will believe you if you say anything because your son’s poor performance is a documented fact.” She sensed that he had moved up behind her, and felt his hands come to rest on her hips, and his voice now came from close behind her. “But. If you do as I say, here, now. You will earn his passing grades. You’ve already failed him as a parent, that’s why you are here in this situation in the first place. But, it’s up to you.” The hands left her hips, the warmth and weight from which she could still feel. Her heart was beating fast, and as humiliating as it was, she felt her face flushing not from anger, or embarrassment, but from his words and actions. Ds turned slowly, finding Mr. Stanton leaning back against his desk, arms crossed, regarding her. “You seemed so eager to make sure I saw your tits this morning. Show them to me.” He said simply. “But.. what about..” she motioned towards the bank of windows overlooking the practice fields full of kids and coaches. “They can’t see anything. We’re a good 150 yards away, and inside. Your top. Now. Or leave.” Des, not seeing any holes in his logic as far as anyone believing her, felt trapped. It did depend on her, and she had failed her son already. Slowly, she moved back to where she had stood before, facing Mr. Stanton, and started to lift her top up. Mr. Stanton, still leaning back against the edge of his desk, followed her movements like a hawk, his eyes feeling like they were devouring every inch of flesh she exposed, as it was exposed. Flipping her top off fully at last, shaking her hair loose from it, she dropped it on the top of the student desk nearest to her, then stood again, for his inspection, with breathing heavily, blood pounding in her ears. Mr. Stanton, a large bulge forming unceremoniously in his trousers, absently started to massage his cock through the fabric with one hand. “Ver nice. The bra now.” Slowly, heat rushing to her face, Des undid her bra, her large breasts, no longer confined and supported by her bra, spilling out. She placed the bra on top of her shirt. Mr. Stanton just stared at her for a few moments in silence, then he adjusted his feet, spread a bit further apart, still laning against the desk, and worked to pull his cock out. Once free Des was surprised at his size, as he kept stroking slowly. Mr. Stanton was big, and thick, and not even fully erect yet some part of her noted. “Play with your nipples for me.” She started to rub her breasts in front of him, telling herself that warmth she was feeling, as she played with her self watching this man stroke his cock feet in front of her, was still just shame. To be sure shame was in the mix, but as she ran her hands along the sides of her breasts, to the nipples, and played with them for him, it was getting harder to deny that it was solely shame. Her breasts had always been very sensitive, a massive erogenous zone her, and she realized her breathing had changed, more to in time with the rythym of her playing with herself as she watched him stroke that thick cock only a few feet away. “Gorgeous. How many kids have you had?” “Th.. Three.” “Mmmm. Good girl. Your tits are amazing.” He stopped stroking and sat fully up on the desk in one smooth motion. “Come here, I want to feel those on my cock. Des hesitated only a second, truth be told she wanted to feel his cock on her tits at this point. She moved up to him, Mr. Stanton had leaned back now, giving her access to what she needed, his cock sticking straight up, pulsing slightly with his heartbeat. John loved the same thing, sliding his hot stiff cock between her soft, silky tits. Sometimes, usually on weekends for some reason, he’d ride her while she lay down, and just fuck her tits until he came, shooting all over her neck and face. Mr. Stanton was much larger than John though. Des leaned forward, encasing her cock with her tits as best she could, the head, glistening with precum, a tantalizing few inches from her mouth. His skin was so hot it was amazing, and as she began to move her tits up and down his shaft as best she could, the tips of her fingers squeezing her nipples, she felt her shame and reluctance transform into a more base hunger. Shocks of heat and pleasure radiated from her breasts to her stomach, and lower as she concentrated on her job. “mmmmm very nice Mrs. Clark. You’ve done this before I see, you thick little slut.” Des didn’t respond, it may have felt good to both of them, but the angle was still awkward (when wasn’t it?) and she had to work to keep in position. “You come in here, wearing that tight top, expecting me to go easy on you because you have big tits and sad eyes.” He continued, watching her like he was giving a lesson. “Isn’t that right?” “Yes, sir.” She managed breathlessly, only partially paying attention. His cock was so close to her lips. All she had to do was bob her head down to taste it.. “You expected me to just serve you platitudes, and an easy solution. Well expect neither in here, you stupid girl.” Des dipped down just then, no longer able to resist his gorgeous cock, and took half his shaft between her soft lips. She closed her eyes and sighed around him, his cock was delicious. “mmm, see? You can’t help yourself.” Mr. Stanton almost sneered down at her “Filthy girl, parading around like you’re the best mom in the grade, making so many sacrifices, yet you can’t resist what might as well be a stranger’s cock when near your lips.” She felt a hand come to the back of her head, giving firm guidance as she worked his cock. He was large enough that she could still surround the base and balls of his cock with her tits, while she bobbed her head on the top third, sticking out from between her own flesh. He was right, she knew, deep down. At some point she forgot to keep her tits around his cock and she had moved to a full on blowjob, one hand on his heavy balls, the other stroking his shaft while she devoured him. His balls were huge, thick, and heavy with cum. She could feel how badly he needed a release, it made her even more hungry. Mr. Stanton leaned back for a while, the only noises in the room were the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, and the sound of Des’ mouth and hands on Mr. Stanton. “You suck cock like a pro.” His voice brought her out of wherever she had been, lost in giving pleasure. “You must make all the soccer dads so happy. Flouncing around in your tight jeans and tops. Showing off those big floppy tits to whoever wants to see..” The idea that she would suck, or fuck any of the dads at soccer was disgusting to her; the idea also drove another hot spike to her crotch. His words brought images up, ideas. She felt his hand grip her hair more intensely, and pull her off his cock. The fact that she had to be physically pulled away from his cock embarrassed her, obvious on her face when he looked down at her. “Step back.” He pushed her back some as he stood. His slick shaft bobbing in front of him. He moved to stand behind her, Des turning, unsure of exactly what he wanted. “No, don’t, face the desk.” Des stopped turning, and resumed standing, facing the desk, and the busy fields out in the distance, her chin, and cleavage slick with precum and her own saliva. Mr. Stanton stood close behind her, his hands gripping her jean clad hips he pulled her against him, she could feel his cock pressed against her ass crack. “They have no idea how good of a mom you are.” He moved his hands up to her breasts, supporting them, caressing them, working his fingers out towards her nipples. Des’ breath caught in her throat. His strong hands sent shivers down her spine as he worked her skin gently, his low voice in her ear. “Such a good mom. Sacrificing her time for her son. Selling her body for his grades. Such a good little whore.” His voice was silky, smooth, mesmerizing. Combined with his hands on her she found herself melting. “Yes. Yes, anything.” “Good girl.” He kissed her neck, keeping up working on her breasts, Des found herself tilting her head to the side, giving him better access. “Now, you know what comes next?” Des nodded, biting her lip even as she did. “What? Tell me.” “You.. you’re, going to.. “ she struggled to say it, didn’t want to say the words. “ You’d going to fuck me now.” She said quietly. “No. No I’m not.” He chuckled. “You.. you’re not?” Des found that at some point she had started to press her ass back against him, her body betraying her need. She sounded almost disappointed, she realized. “No. You are going to beg me to fuck you.” He reached down, his hands leaving her breasts, still tingling from his touch, and started to unbutton her high waist jeans, his lips still on her neck, tantalizingly near her ear. “I.. I am?” “What are you?” “I’m.. I am mom. Good mom.” Her head was swirling, she could feel her jeans were undone, and his thumbs moved slowly to the sides of her hips under the waist band. “Yes, you are. A very good mom. What else?” His hands rested  now on her hips, waiting. “I’m.. you said I was a slut.” “What do you think? What are you?” “A..” She opened her eyes, closed to slits for most of this. Here she was, in her son’s classroom, half naked, the taste of his cock in her mouth, her body begging to feel him inside her.. “..slut.” she said quietly. “Louder, Mrs. Clark.” “I’m a, a slut.” She breathed. “And?” “a whooore.” She let hiss. She was, she was trading her tits and pussy for grades. The realization crashed down on her, she was doing this. “Indeed.” She felt him smile against her neck. Mr. Stanton, unhurriedly, peeled her jeans down to her knees, exposing her ass to him. On his way back up he ran his hands over her cheeks, pausing to run one finger under her exposed thong strap. “A thong? Seems you dress for easy access on the top, and bottom. Step out of those jeans.” Leaning one hand against the desk Des worked to kick off her jeans the rest of the way. She wore tight jeans, thus the reason for the thong, it was always more comfortable to her than full panties. Every morning she would look at herself in the mirror, smooth out her top , make sure she looked good. She knew her best assets were her tits and her round ass, and dressed to show those off accordingly. Her jeans now off, kicked to the side unceremoniously, she started to right herself, but felt a strong hand in the center of her back. “No, stay down.” Des, moving slowly, leaned both hands on the edge of the desk now. She knew what was coming, wanted it badly, but also knew she shouldn’t. She concentrated on the edge of the desk, breathing quickly. Mr. Stanton peeled her thong to the side, playfully. Des felt him pull her cheeks apart and stare at her exposed asshole and pussy, as if inspecting a piece of meat he was going to buy. Des felt exposed and humiliated, and needed more. “Very nice” he murmured, then ran a finger across her asshole and pussy lips. “and soaked already, good little whore.” He chuckled. Keeping her spread still with one hand she felt him slide a finger into her wet pussy, eliciting a moan from her before she could stop it. “Ah, you liked that?” he started to finger fuck her, first one, then two, then three fingers, slowly stretching and pounding her wet pussy from behind. Des lowered her head, it felt so good but she needed his cock. “Yes. Please..” “Please what?” “ohmygod please just fuck me!” she hissed head bent, eyes closed. “Just do it, please. I need it.” The last came out almost like a whine. The fingers were removed, and he wiped them on her white ass cheek. One hand was still keeping her cheek lifted, then she felt what she needed. Mr. Stanton pressed his cock against her pussy. She felt his thick head slip easily between her lips, then pause as he relocated his hand back to spreading her cheeks so he could watch his cock sink into her. Des braced herself against the desk as he worked his cock into her. He was much bigger than John, she realized as he worked deeper inside her. She felt herself open up for him, her body not only accepting his throbbing cock, but eager to get him deeper inside her. For a bit they stayed just like that, Mr. Stanton keeping her cheeks spread so he could watch himself enter her, and Des bent over, eyes closed, concentrating on taking him. At some point Mr. Stanton let go of her cheeks, and transitioned his hands to her hips, digging his fingers into her soft flesh as he gripped her. “mmm.. damn. Your cunt is so tight, Mrs. Clark.” Des felt him finally bottom out inside her, his pelvis pressed so deep the it was spreading her ass for him. His cock filled her, fully it felt like. She could feel every inch of him buried deep inside her, his skin hot and flush with blood, and his heavy balls slapping her with each thrust. “Wait.. we.. no.. condom!” she realized and almost panicked, trying to push him back with one hand, ineffectually, behind her. She had been so disoriented by things that she hadn’t been thinking straight. Mr. Stanton didn’t pull out however. Instead he started to take long, deep, slow strokes. “The deal didn’t include condoms, Mrs. Clark.” “but.. I’m.. not.. ohmygod yes..” he was stroking her now with constant, long strokes, pulling almost all the way out, then plunging hard inside her, sending waves of pleasure through her pussy and core. “You’re not on the pill?” Des just nodded, barely able to talk as he fucked her. “Look at these hips..” he said, almost angrily, huffing slightly as he fucked her steadily, the smell of sex filling the area. “look at these tits” he reached under her and gave one of her breasts a share slap. “This is what you were built for, you dumb cow.” “Wha.. what?” She panted, her eyes half closed as she worked to stay focused. “Breeding, you stupid cunt. This is what you are good at. Some women are good at math, others good at sports. You? You were built to breed, to be pinned down and seeded by men.” As he spoke he fucked her harder, each thrust forward filling her pussy to the point that she thought she might not be able to take any more, then he’d pull out, leaving her anticipating, and begging, for the next thrust in. “I… but.. I can’t..” He thrust deep inside her, causing her ass to shake just from the power his legs put into the action, and she felt a hand grip a fistful of her hair, pulling her head up. “What do you feel? Right now? What do you want?” “I..” She could feel his pulse through his cock, an amazing feeling buried inside her. “I want..” she remembered his balls, so thick and heavy with promised cum. “I want.. I want you inside me.” She said at last, almost sobbing as she said it, though she didn’t know if it was from relief of admitting it or shame. “See?” he hissed “You can’t help but want to be bred, to take a man’s seed. You want my cum?” “Yess..” She tried to grind back on him, impale herself further on his cock though it was impossible. “Say it. Say it and you can have it.” “I… ohmygod I want it.” “What!” He tightened his grip on her hair, shaking her head slightly, his fingers digging into the flesh on her hips. “I want you cum. Please, dear lord, forgive, I want your cum inside me.” She did sob now. “Good cow.” He pushed her head back down, returning his hands to her ample hips. Des didn’t think he could stroke her harder than he had before, but she was wrong. With great, long, sweeping thrusts Mr. Stanton proceeded to do his best to wreck her cunt. Des leaned into him, holding on as he worked, her tits, hanging low beneath her swaying with his thrusts. His words struck her to the core. They were truth, she knew, but no one had ever dared say it to her. She was good at it. She was built for it. Mr. Stanton’s thrusts grew more erratic, his breathing harsher, and his grip on her tighter as he stroked deep inside her. Des realized he was close, he was going to cum soon. She envisioned his seed jetting out of his cock, deep inside her. Saw his balls convulsing, pushing life with each cycle into her. “yes.. fuck me. Breed me, I need it.” She said.. quietly, but the words seemed thunderous in her ears. “nnnnh… you want me to breed you? Breed you like a cow?” He said through clenched teeth. “yesyesyes, do it, I’m a fucking whore cow, I need it, sir!” “mmmmph I’m cumming.” He groaned, pulling himself deeper still into Des’ body, she imagined his thick, alpha cock passing her cervix he was so deep. He leaned back, groaning, then she felt him cum. His orgasm was shockingly strong, seemingly involving his whole body as he want rigid, his cock growing thicker inside her. With each pulse inside her she knew he was dumping his seed  deep inside her unprotected womb. She bore down on him, her own orgasm surprising her, her body automatically milking the length of his cock with her muscles. Instead of continuing to stroke Mr. Stanton just drove himself as deep as he could inside her riding her cunt like a prize bull. Des felt his balls pump jet after jet of his thick cum inside her, each pulse sending a wave of pleasure through her body. “yessss… oh my god, give me all of it baby.” Des Half turned, still leaning with one arm on the desk, and she tried to pull him even deeper inside her with the other. “That’s it… more, give me all of it.” She talked softly, coaxing him, trying to keep him cumming for as long as she could. Every drop, she needed it. Eventually Mr. Stanton regained control, his cock done pulsing inside her, breathing heavily. He looked down at her, a smile touching his lips. “Good girl.” He said softly, then he slowly pulled out, his still hard cock withdrawing from her wetly. He gave her well fucked pussy a last look, then stepped back, his cock disappearing inside his boxers as he fixed himself. Des stayed as she was, leaning her head on her crossed arms for a minute more. The silence in the room both comforting and accusing in her ears. “I think we made excellent progress today, Mrs. Clark.” He moved around to his chair, sitting, now facing her. “I.. I can’t believe I did that.” Des, starting to come out of the fog of lust, started to realize what she had done. She could feel his cum inside her, not unpleasant by any means, but.. what had she done.. “You did very well, you should be proud. I suggest that you get dressed though, your son will expect you out on the field” he motioned idly over his shoulder “ soon.” He watched as Des got dressed, embarrassing in it’s own right to her. “He has practice every week this time, yes?” She nodded, fixing her hair as best she could using her phone as a mirror. “Then I’ll expect to see you again next week at this time.” Des stopped dead in her tracks. “Sorry?” “Oh, you didn’t think you could buy his success with one session did you?” He laughed as he stood, ushering her towards the door. “Next practice, same time. I’ll tell you more truths about yourself, and send you home with another belly full of cum, like a good girl.” He said quietly at the door. Des, flushing at the thought, only nodded, then she left. As she made her way through the school towards the exit she screamed at herself. How could she possibly have gotten into that situation? Of COURSE she wouldn’t be back next time. She would go right to the principal and have Mr. Stanton fired! Her footsteps echoed angrily down the hall as she looked for his office.. The next week she found herself knocking lightly on Mr. Stanton’s door, her pussy already wet with anticipation. She never did find the principal’s office. -- source link

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