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Britney slouched in the blue leather chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest, face scrunched into a scowl. She was eighteen. An adult, sitting in the principal's office like a goddamned kid because that hag, Anderson, had it out for her. Britney wasn't the only one to have drawn on that desk. But she was the only one sent to the office for it. She huffed.
Principal Porter sat in his chair on the other side of his massive desk, his blue eyes scanning a sheet of paper that he was holding in his hand. He ignored Britney, and that ticked her off. She huffed again, louder this time.
“Miss Ashford, I will deal with you in one moment. Until then, please, sit there—” He paused, looked over his paper, and made eye contact with her. “Quietly.”
He returned to his paper, ignoring Britney. Again. Gray-haired, old bastard. She shifted in her seat, making as much noise as she could, crossing her legs and tapping her foot against the air. Her knee poked out from beneath the ugly blue tartan skirt of her school uniform, the skin tan against the drab fabric. A single blonde hair stuck to her black knee-high sock. Great. Now she was going bald. She plucked the hair from her sock and let it drop onto the gray carpet.
She fidgeted around in her seat; the leather creaked and groaned beneath her as she fixed her ponytail, glaring at Porter the whole time. On the white wall behind him, under the clock, hung several framed academic awards. An American flag stood in one corner, filing cabinets in the other.
Principal Porter set the paper down. “Miss Ashford. You have been sent to my office for defacing school property. Is that correct?”
Britney scoffed. “That desk was already covered in crappy drawings! Mrs. Anderson just hates me.”
“Miss Ashford, this year alone you have been in my office on six separate occasions. It appears you have an acute disciplinary issue. An issue that will need to be addressed. I'm afraid I will have to call your parents.” His tone was serious.
Britney snorted. “Bethany and Rogah?” She mocked Roger's name with an exaggerated mid-Atlantic accent, dropping the –er for a drawn-out 'ah' sound. Britney looked at the clock. “It's eleven o'clock. Bethany is two bottles deep into a Chardonnay, and Rogah is probably balls deep in some skank from the country club.”
Principal Porter's hand struck his desk with a boom loud enough to make Britney flinch. “Language, Miss Ashford,” he bellowed.
Britney pursed her lips as Principal Porter rose from his chair. He seemed larger now that he loomed before her.
“It seems a more personalized form of punishment will be required,” Principal Porter said as he unbuttoned his gray blazer.
Britney swallowed; something about his tone made her feel uneasy. Porter draped his blazer over the back of his chair. His white cotton dress shirt stretched across broad shoulders. He undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Britney gripped the wooden arms of the chair, her tanned knuckles turning white.
He glowered at Britney; his eyes were piercing. “Stand up, Miss Ashford.”
She hesitated before rising from the chair; an uneasiness washed over her. Britney's knees felt weak, her palms sweating as her mind raced.
“Over the desk,” he commanded.
Britney's jaw dropped. “What?”
Principal Porter did not reply. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her face down onto the massive desk. His grip was firm and unwavering. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickened. She gasped as he lifted her skirt; she tried to rise from the desk, but he held her down.
Before she could scream out in protest, Porter struck her backside with the palm of his hand. Hard. The slap seemed to echo off the walls, the skin beneath her pink Calvin's stung.
He slapped her again. She was being spanked? She was a fucking adult, and he was spanking her? Britney's mind raced as tears welled in her eyes. She clenched her fists, red-painted nails digging into her palms.
Principal Porter struck her behind twice more before releasing his grip.
Britney straightened, yanking her skirt back into place, her hands trembling as she smoothed the fabric. She spun to face Principal Porter, her breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts.
“You spanked me,” she spat out between sobs.
Principal Porter opened his office door. “You may return to class now, Miss Ashford.”
“But—” Britney sputtered, her voice cracking. “You—” She searched for the words, but none came. Her frustration boiled over. Britney balled her fists, stomped her foot, and let out a sharp, exasperated yell before storming out of the office.
Britney paused at the office door; her hand hovered over the polished knob. It had been days since she was last sent to Principal Porter's office—days since he had spanked her. She'd kept her behavior in check since then, the sting of humiliation still fresh. Yet there was something else, something she couldn't quite name. Something that made her call Mrs. Tomlinson an 'old hag'. She knew it would result in a trip to the principal's office. Maybe she hoped it would?
Britney took a deep breath; she opened the door and stepped inside. Principal Porter sat at his desk intently studying some papers. Quietly, she took a seat in the blue leather chair.
“Verbal abuse, Miss Ashford?” Principal Porter continued to study the papers in front of him. Britney sat in silence. He collected the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “Are you prepared for your punishment?”
Britney swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her blue tartan skirt. “Yes,” she squeaked.
Principal Porter rose from his chair and removed his suit jacket. He draped it over the back of his chair. Her face grew hot as she struggled to steady her breathing. Britney stood, tracking his every movement. He meticulously unbuttoned his shirt cuff, the muscles of his forearm twitching beneath the skin.
She bent over the desk, the wooden top cool on her burning cheek. She yelped as Principal Porter yanked her skirt up, exposing her panties. With bated breath, she waited, her body rigid, until the silence in the room was shattered by the sharp thud of his hand striking the thin fabric. Another slap, followed immediately by a third. Each slap sent a fresh wave of heat, prickling deeper beneath her skin with every strike. Britney clenched her fists, her body taut, bracing herself for the next blow. It landed, followed by another.
“You may return to class, Miss Ashford," said Principal Porter's voice, unwavering.
Britney adjusted her skirt, acutely aware of the warmth spreading between her legs. Her thoughts a whirlwind, her head spinning. Why was she aroused? Was it the spanking? Did she want this? A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Head down, eyes on the floor, she hastily left his office.
A couple of days had passed since Britney's last visit to Principal Porter's office, but the memory lingered. She sat in Mrs. Anderson's history class, scrolling Instagram on her phone—she knew it was against school rules. The bell had rung, but she continued scrolling, ignoring Mrs. Anderson's pointed reminders to put it away. Britney did not protest when she was sent to the principal's office. She slipped her phone into her bag, her pulse quickening. That morning, she had put on her favorite pink thong—the one that Bethany had forbidden her to wear. She was ready. No, she was eager for her punishment today.
Britney bent over the large desk, her left cheek against the cool wood. Principal Porter lifted her skirt, exposing her pink thong and bare ass. His approving grunt caused Britney to smile, and a warmth washed over her. She stood on her toes to present herself to Principal Porter; the muscles in her buttocks and thighs flexed. His hand cupped her ass, the fingers hot on her smooth skin, her breath caught in her throat. The tender touch was unexpected but not unpleasant. His hand withdrew. Britney braced herself for the blow. Her body tensed, her eyes squeezed shut.
His hand struck the skin of her buttock with a sharp slap.
She exhaled with a gasp.
The sting spread through her backside, and the heat between her legs grew. Her nipples stiffened, straining against the fabric of her bra. Principal Porter struck her again and again. He paused. Britney felt his fingers caress the burning skin of her buttock; she whimpered under his touch. She slowly gyrated her hips while his hands massaged and squeezed her ass. Britney groaned when his hands slid from her ass; she held her breath, waiting. He cleared his throat.
“You may return to class, Miss Ashford.”
“What?” Britney gasped. “But.” She wanted more; she needed more. Principal Porter motioned her toward the door. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Principal Porter stared her down with an icy glare.
“Miss Ashford. Return to class.” His voice was sharp and demanding.
Britney let loose a sharp, exaggerated sigh. She held her ground a beat longer before huffing her way towards the door. She stomped out, her black school flats slapping dramatically against the hard floor of the office reception area.
She steamed down the hall and into the girl's bathroom. Britney took a quick look around to make sure she was alone before locking herself in a stall. She pressed her back against the stall's tan dividing panel and plunged her hand into her pink panties. Her fingers slid over her bare mound, brushing against her swollen lips. Britney's fingers were cool against her hot skin. Frantically, she rubbed herself, her body bucked, and her breath came in short bursts. She needed release. Now. She slipped two fingers inside and began to pound her pussy. Britney felt a swelling inside that grew with each movement. She was close.
The bathroom door opened. The voices of two girls chattering about some boy filled the restroom. Britney covered her mouth to stifle her whimpers. She couldn't stop, not now. She was so close. Her knees grew weak. Her body convulsed with a burst of pleasure. She grunted through her fingers. Britney squeezed her thighs together; her hand fell from her mouth.
She gasped, forgetting about the voices outside the stall. Her skin tingled, and her nerves crackled with electricity.
She sat on the toilet to catch her breath.
The girls in the bathroom laughed, then hurried out.
Britney leaned back, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She smiled to herself. Britney knew exactly what she had to do tomorrow.
The first morning bell had rung, and students began to filter out of the main hall to their homeroom classes. Britney strut through the hall, long legs on full display. That morning she rolled the waist of her skirt to raise the hemline by several inches. The boys stopped and gawked. The girls scowled and glared.
“Britney Ashford!” Mrs. Anderson bellowed. “Your skirt is much too short, young lady.”
Britney gave a slow twirl. “I dunno. Could be shorter.”
Mrs. Anderson clicked her tongue. “To the principal's office. Immediately.”
Britney opened the office door to find Principal Porter on the phone. He motioned her into the office and pointed to the blue chair. Britney took her seat.
Principal Porter spoke into the phone. “Yes. She is here now.” His eyes made their way to her tan legs. Britney slowly crossed them.
“I see. Yes. She is definitely in violation of the dress code.”
Britney smiled.
“Yes, Mrs. Anderson, I'll take care of it.” Principal Porter hung up the phone. He stood.
Britney's heart began to race. She stood; her eyes followed him as he rounded the desk. Britney bit her lower lip. She set her hands on the wooden top of the desk. Principal Porter removed his black suit jacket and draped it over the back of the blue leather chair. Britney bent herself over the large wooden desk. She could hear the rustling of clothing as Principal Porter rolled up his sleeves. He lifted her blue tartan skirt. Britney smiled; she went without panties this morning. Principal Porter's hands caressed her buttocks, his hands warm and strong.
Britney sighed as he gave her backside a squeeze. The first strike was sudden and sharp. Britney yelped. Two more slaps followed. Principal Porter massaged her backside before striking again. She moaned softly with each strike as the sting spread across her ass. Heat built between her legs, growing more intense with each slap.
Principal Porter's hands rubbed her ass checks, pressing and pulling them apart. His fingers squeezed and kneaded her flesh. Britney's chest heaved; every touch sent shocks of pleasure through her body. Her breath caught in her throat as Principal Porter's cock spread her pussy lips wide. Britney cried out as his rock hard shaft plunged deep inside her. His hard cock filled her, then withdrew, then slammed into her. Her hands searched for anything to hold onto, knocking pens and papers off the desk. Principal Porter clutched her hips, his body driving into hers, her thighs crushed into the edge of the desktop. She felt an explosion deep inside; her knees gave out, and her thighs twitched uncontrollably. Tremors racked her body as the powerful orgasm washed over her. The walls of her pussy convulsed, squeezing Principal Porter's thick cock.
t was too much. She needed to get away, just for a second. She tried to scramble up the desk, slipped, and fell to the floor. She huddled at Principal Porter's polished shoes as her body spasmed.
Britney caught her breath as she regained control of her body. Principal Porter's immense cock loomed above her. She swallowed hard and rose to her knees. She wrapped both hands around his rigid cock. It was hot and slick. She felt it pulse in her hands. A large vein bulged along the reddened shaft; the head was round and bulbous. Britney touched the tip of his cock to her nose; she could smell her perfume and his cologne. She ran her lips along the shaft. She took the tip in her mouth, the metallic taste of her pussy mixed with his sweet musk. She twirled her tongue around the head of his cock.
Principal Porter tipped his head back and groaned as Britney took as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. Slowly she bobbed and sucked, working the shaft with her mouth and hands. She could feel Principal Porter's breathing become more urgent. She took her mouth off his cock and slowly pumped his shaft. She wasn't ready to finish yet.
She gently kissed the tip of his cock, the salty taste of precum on her lips. Britney rose and hopped onto the desk. She balled Principal Porter's golden yellow tie into her fist and pulled him to her. He guided his cock into her pussy again. He slowly fucked her. She set her legs against his shoulders and pulled on his tie, drawing his face to hers.
“I need to be punished.” Her voice was hoarse and raspy.
Principal Porter shoved her down, grasped her thighs, and began to pound her pussy. Sweat ran down his red face as his cock pounded into her. Britney felt another orgasm swelling inside of her. She clamped her hands over the edge of the desk. Her back arched, her body convulsed. She burst. Her skin tingled, her ears rang. Principal Porter released her legs, allowing them to dangle limply off the desk. His cock popped out of her pussy, as a rope of cum shot from the tip. Followed by several more. Britney stared at the tiled ceiling, listening to Principal Porter's labored breathing. The feeling of his hot cum soaking through her blouse. The cooling wetness of her pussy and thighs.
“Miss Ashford,” Principal Porter's voice was soft and distant. “I think Saturday detention may be what you need.”
Principal Porter sat in his chair on the other side of his massive desk, his blue eyes scanning a sheet of paper that he was holding in his hand. He ignored Britney, and that ticked her off. She huffed again, louder this time.
“Miss Ashford, I will deal with you in one moment. Until then, please, sit there—” He paused, looked over his paper, and made eye contact with her. “Quietly.”
He returned to his paper, ignoring Britney. Again. Gray-haired, old bastard. She shifted in her seat, making as much noise as she could, crossing her legs and tapping her foot against the air. Her knee poked out from beneath the ugly blue tartan skirt of her school uniform, the skin tan against the drab fabric. A single blonde hair stuck to her black knee-high sock. Great. Now she was going bald. She plucked the hair from her sock and let it drop onto the gray carpet.
She fidgeted around in her seat; the leather creaked and groaned beneath her as she fixed her ponytail, glaring at Porter the whole time. On the white wall behind him, under the clock, hung several framed academic awards. An American flag stood in one corner, filing cabinets in the other.
Principal Porter set the paper down. “Miss Ashford. You have been sent to my office for defacing school property. Is that correct?”
Britney scoffed. “That desk was already covered in crappy drawings! Mrs. Anderson just hates me.”
“Miss Ashford, this year alone you have been in my office on six separate occasions. It appears you have an acute disciplinary issue. An issue that will need to be addressed. I'm afraid I will have to call your parents.” His tone was serious.
Britney snorted. “Bethany and Rogah?” She mocked Roger's name with an exaggerated mid-Atlantic accent, dropping the –er for a drawn-out 'ah' sound. Britney looked at the clock. “It's eleven o'clock. Bethany is two bottles deep into a Chardonnay, and Rogah is probably balls deep in some skank from the country club.”
Principal Porter's hand struck his desk with a boom loud enough to make Britney flinch. “Language, Miss Ashford,” he bellowed.
Britney pursed her lips as Principal Porter rose from his chair. He seemed larger now that he loomed before her.
“It seems a more personalized form of punishment will be required,” Principal Porter said as he unbuttoned his gray blazer.
Britney swallowed; something about his tone made her feel uneasy. Porter draped his blazer over the back of his chair. His white cotton dress shirt stretched across broad shoulders. He undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows. Britney gripped the wooden arms of the chair, her tanned knuckles turning white.
He glowered at Britney; his eyes were piercing. “Stand up, Miss Ashford.”
She hesitated before rising from the chair; an uneasiness washed over her. Britney's knees felt weak, her palms sweating as her mind raced.
“Over the desk,” he commanded.
Britney's jaw dropped. “What?”
Principal Porter did not reply. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her face down onto the massive desk. His grip was firm and unwavering. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath quickened. She gasped as he lifted her skirt; she tried to rise from the desk, but he held her down.
Before she could scream out in protest, Porter struck her backside with the palm of his hand. Hard. The slap seemed to echo off the walls, the skin beneath her pink Calvin's stung.
He slapped her again. She was being spanked? She was a fucking adult, and he was spanking her? Britney's mind raced as tears welled in her eyes. She clenched her fists, red-painted nails digging into her palms.
Principal Porter struck her behind twice more before releasing his grip.
Britney straightened, yanking her skirt back into place, her hands trembling as she smoothed the fabric. She spun to face Principal Porter, her breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts.
“You spanked me,” she spat out between sobs.
Principal Porter opened his office door. “You may return to class now, Miss Ashford.”
“But—” Britney sputtered, her voice cracking. “You—” She searched for the words, but none came. Her frustration boiled over. Britney balled her fists, stomped her foot, and let out a sharp, exasperated yell before storming out of the office.
Britney paused at the office door; her hand hovered over the polished knob. It had been days since she was last sent to Principal Porter's office—days since he had spanked her. She'd kept her behavior in check since then, the sting of humiliation still fresh. Yet there was something else, something she couldn't quite name. Something that made her call Mrs. Tomlinson an 'old hag'. She knew it would result in a trip to the principal's office. Maybe she hoped it would?
Britney took a deep breath; she opened the door and stepped inside. Principal Porter sat at his desk intently studying some papers. Quietly, she took a seat in the blue leather chair.
“Verbal abuse, Miss Ashford?” Principal Porter continued to study the papers in front of him. Britney sat in silence. He collected the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “Are you prepared for your punishment?”
Britney swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her ears. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her blue tartan skirt. “Yes,” she squeaked.
Principal Porter rose from his chair and removed his suit jacket. He draped it over the back of his chair. Her face grew hot as she struggled to steady her breathing. Britney stood, tracking his every movement. He meticulously unbuttoned his shirt cuff, the muscles of his forearm twitching beneath the skin.
She bent over the desk, the wooden top cool on her burning cheek. She yelped as Principal Porter yanked her skirt up, exposing her panties. With bated breath, she waited, her body rigid, until the silence in the room was shattered by the sharp thud of his hand striking the thin fabric. Another slap, followed immediately by a third. Each slap sent a fresh wave of heat, prickling deeper beneath her skin with every strike. Britney clenched her fists, her body taut, bracing herself for the next blow. It landed, followed by another.
“You may return to class, Miss Ashford," said Principal Porter's voice, unwavering.
Britney adjusted her skirt, acutely aware of the warmth spreading between her legs. Her thoughts a whirlwind, her head spinning. Why was she aroused? Was it the spanking? Did she want this? A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Head down, eyes on the floor, she hastily left his office.
A couple of days had passed since Britney's last visit to Principal Porter's office, but the memory lingered. She sat in Mrs. Anderson's history class, scrolling Instagram on her phone—she knew it was against school rules. The bell had rung, but she continued scrolling, ignoring Mrs. Anderson's pointed reminders to put it away. Britney did not protest when she was sent to the principal's office. She slipped her phone into her bag, her pulse quickening. That morning, she had put on her favorite pink thong—the one that Bethany had forbidden her to wear. She was ready. No, she was eager for her punishment today.
Britney bent over the large desk, her left cheek against the cool wood. Principal Porter lifted her skirt, exposing her pink thong and bare ass. His approving grunt caused Britney to smile, and a warmth washed over her. She stood on her toes to present herself to Principal Porter; the muscles in her buttocks and thighs flexed. His hand cupped her ass, the fingers hot on her smooth skin, her breath caught in her throat. The tender touch was unexpected but not unpleasant. His hand withdrew. Britney braced herself for the blow. Her body tensed, her eyes squeezed shut.
His hand struck the skin of her buttock with a sharp slap.
She exhaled with a gasp.
The sting spread through her backside, and the heat between her legs grew. Her nipples stiffened, straining against the fabric of her bra. Principal Porter struck her again and again. He paused. Britney felt his fingers caress the burning skin of her buttock; she whimpered under his touch. She slowly gyrated her hips while his hands massaged and squeezed her ass. Britney groaned when his hands slid from her ass; she held her breath, waiting. He cleared his throat.
“You may return to class, Miss Ashford.”
“What?” Britney gasped. “But.” She wanted more; she needed more. Principal Porter motioned her toward the door. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Principal Porter stared her down with an icy glare.
“Miss Ashford. Return to class.” His voice was sharp and demanding.
Britney let loose a sharp, exaggerated sigh. She held her ground a beat longer before huffing her way towards the door. She stomped out, her black school flats slapping dramatically against the hard floor of the office reception area.
She steamed down the hall and into the girl's bathroom. Britney took a quick look around to make sure she was alone before locking herself in a stall. She pressed her back against the stall's tan dividing panel and plunged her hand into her pink panties. Her fingers slid over her bare mound, brushing against her swollen lips. Britney's fingers were cool against her hot skin. Frantically, she rubbed herself, her body bucked, and her breath came in short bursts. She needed release. Now. She slipped two fingers inside and began to pound her pussy. Britney felt a swelling inside that grew with each movement. She was close.
The bathroom door opened. The voices of two girls chattering about some boy filled the restroom. Britney covered her mouth to stifle her whimpers. She couldn't stop, not now. She was so close. Her knees grew weak. Her body convulsed with a burst of pleasure. She grunted through her fingers. Britney squeezed her thighs together; her hand fell from her mouth.
She gasped, forgetting about the voices outside the stall. Her skin tingled, and her nerves crackled with electricity.
She sat on the toilet to catch her breath.
The girls in the bathroom laughed, then hurried out.
Britney leaned back, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. She smiled to herself. Britney knew exactly what she had to do tomorrow.
The first morning bell had rung, and students began to filter out of the main hall to their homeroom classes. Britney strut through the hall, long legs on full display. That morning she rolled the waist of her skirt to raise the hemline by several inches. The boys stopped and gawked. The girls scowled and glared.
“Britney Ashford!” Mrs. Anderson bellowed. “Your skirt is much too short, young lady.”
Britney gave a slow twirl. “I dunno. Could be shorter.”
Mrs. Anderson clicked her tongue. “To the principal's office. Immediately.”
Britney opened the office door to find Principal Porter on the phone. He motioned her into the office and pointed to the blue chair. Britney took her seat.
Principal Porter spoke into the phone. “Yes. She is here now.” His eyes made their way to her tan legs. Britney slowly crossed them.
“I see. Yes. She is definitely in violation of the dress code.”
Britney smiled.
“Yes, Mrs. Anderson, I'll take care of it.” Principal Porter hung up the phone. He stood.
Britney's heart began to race. She stood; her eyes followed him as he rounded the desk. Britney bit her lower lip. She set her hands on the wooden top of the desk. Principal Porter removed his black suit jacket and draped it over the back of the blue leather chair. Britney bent herself over the large wooden desk. She could hear the rustling of clothing as Principal Porter rolled up his sleeves. He lifted her blue tartan skirt. Britney smiled; she went without panties this morning. Principal Porter's hands caressed her buttocks, his hands warm and strong.
Britney sighed as he gave her backside a squeeze. The first strike was sudden and sharp. Britney yelped. Two more slaps followed. Principal Porter massaged her backside before striking again. She moaned softly with each strike as the sting spread across her ass. Heat built between her legs, growing more intense with each slap.
Principal Porter's hands rubbed her ass checks, pressing and pulling them apart. His fingers squeezed and kneaded her flesh. Britney's chest heaved; every touch sent shocks of pleasure through her body. Her breath caught in her throat as Principal Porter's cock spread her pussy lips wide. Britney cried out as his rock hard shaft plunged deep inside her. His hard cock filled her, then withdrew, then slammed into her. Her hands searched for anything to hold onto, knocking pens and papers off the desk. Principal Porter clutched her hips, his body driving into hers, her thighs crushed into the edge of the desktop. She felt an explosion deep inside; her knees gave out, and her thighs twitched uncontrollably. Tremors racked her body as the powerful orgasm washed over her. The walls of her pussy convulsed, squeezing Principal Porter's thick cock.
t was too much. She needed to get away, just for a second. She tried to scramble up the desk, slipped, and fell to the floor. She huddled at Principal Porter's polished shoes as her body spasmed.
Britney caught her breath as she regained control of her body. Principal Porter's immense cock loomed above her. She swallowed hard and rose to her knees. She wrapped both hands around his rigid cock. It was hot and slick. She felt it pulse in her hands. A large vein bulged along the reddened shaft; the head was round and bulbous. Britney touched the tip of his cock to her nose; she could smell her perfume and his cologne. She ran her lips along the shaft. She took the tip in her mouth, the metallic taste of her pussy mixed with his sweet musk. She twirled her tongue around the head of his cock.
Principal Porter tipped his head back and groaned as Britney took as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. Slowly she bobbed and sucked, working the shaft with her mouth and hands. She could feel Principal Porter's breathing become more urgent. She took her mouth off his cock and slowly pumped his shaft. She wasn't ready to finish yet.
She gently kissed the tip of his cock, the salty taste of precum on her lips. Britney rose and hopped onto the desk. She balled Principal Porter's golden yellow tie into her fist and pulled him to her. He guided his cock into her pussy again. He slowly fucked her. She set her legs against his shoulders and pulled on his tie, drawing his face to hers.
“I need to be punished.” Her voice was hoarse and raspy.
Principal Porter shoved her down, grasped her thighs, and began to pound her pussy. Sweat ran down his red face as his cock pounded into her. Britney felt another orgasm swelling inside of her. She clamped her hands over the edge of the desk. Her back arched, her body convulsed. She burst. Her skin tingled, her ears rang. Principal Porter released her legs, allowing them to dangle limply off the desk. His cock popped out of her pussy, as a rope of cum shot from the tip. Followed by several more. Britney stared at the tiled ceiling, listening to Principal Porter's labored breathing. The feeling of his hot cum soaking through her blouse. The cooling wetness of her pussy and thighs.
“Miss Ashford,” Principal Porter's voice was soft and distant. “I think Saturday detention may be what you need.”
