
Professor Jason Sarcinelli corners Rose Carter after class. "Word is you're soaking professors for laughs," he snaps. "Hand over whatever gadget you're using." Rose just laughs. "No gadget." He snaps again. "Quit fucking around. Give it to me." So she does—she spreads her legs, fingers herself until she squirts a hot stream right across his face. Jason jerks back, stunned, because that's pussy juice, not water. Rose licks her fingers, holds his stare, and says, "Want a taste?" Something in his brain short-circuits. He yanks her onto the desk, yanks his cock out, and pounds into her wet cunt right there, legs wide on the wood, floor creaking, papers scattering, both of them grunting like animals.
Professor Jason Sarcinelli corners Rose Carter after class. "Word is you're soaking professors for laughs," he snaps. "Hand over whatever gadget you're using." Rose just laughs. "No gadget." He snaps again. "Quit fucking around. Give it to me." So she does—she spreads her legs, fingers herself until she squirts a hot stream right across his face. Jason jerks back, stunned, because that's pussy juice, not water. Rose licks her fingers, holds his stare, and says, "Want a taste?" Something in his brain short-circuits. He yanks her onto the desk, yanks his cock out, and pounds into her wet cunt right there, legs wide on the wood, floor creaking, papers scattering, both of them grunting like animals.