|
|
Girls that are hot and that the ball boys were big, meaty lads who’d proceeded to utterly lose control at the sight of her tight young buttocks, and had ravished her most thoroughly on the hallowed girls that are hot of Centre Court.
Now, however, she sighed as she picked up her Physics books, and headed off to the dusty, deserted Science Wing for a lunchtime tutorial with Mr. Brennan. Only three weeks until her ‘A’ level, and she was still very behind in her studies, he said; Rachel’s parents had protestingly agreed to pay for extra private tuition.
She trudged up the stairs to the classroom, wrinkling her nose at the smell of gas and formaldehyde that came from the Biology Room, feeling hot, sticky and annoyed that she couldn’t be out lounging on the grass with her classmates, chatting idly about boys, and how far they’d gone..... wicked Fiona of course said she’d done it all the way with Bomber Harris, but Rachel had her doubts. She was now eighteen, but thanks to a careful upbringing had never yet had more than a casual snog with hot punk girls boy. Her full young breasts tightened and tingled at the thought of being caressed by a man, and her nipples stiffened, poking through her sensible cotton bra and uniform shirt. Defiantly hot girls in bathing suits her short, straight skirt a young higher up her long, tanned legs, she went into the classroom and sat down in the front row.
Mr. Brennan was as usual untidily dressed, his shirt sleeves rolled up above the elbow, his tie loosened, and his trousers rumpled. Rachel smiled to herself - at least today he’d remembered to do up his flies.
They’d giggled for weeks after the time he strode into the room, his shirt flapping out the opening, but even eagle-eyed hot girls in bras couldn’t say she’d seen anything else.... | |