School Girl Loses her Mind for Cock – Teaser
The Schoolgirl’sDirty LittleSecret
In the quiet halls of St. Mary’s Academy for Young Ladies, a whisper of scandal rippled through the student body. Rumors circulated about an unassuming girl named Lily who harbored a secret vice that had gripped her mind and body with an addiction that threatened to consume her. During the long hours of study and prayer, young Lily’s innocent facade concealed a naughty truth – the petite blonde had become enslaved to her own wanton lusts.
Behind the closed doors of the dormitory bathroom, sheltered from the prying eyes of nuns and classmates, Lily indulged in her secret world of forbidden pleasure. She would slip into the stall with a hidden duffle bag, a sack of sinful objects concealed amidst her books and uniform. Once inside, the fearful schoolgirl would lock the door and pull out the tools of her delinquency – a large plastic dildo, a set of thigh high stockings, and a sparkly schoolgirl cosplay that would make even the most pious flush with shame.
With trembling hands, Lily would strip off her own plain uniform, buttoned up prim and proper, and don the kinky confection. The miniskirt was far too short, showing off miles of creamy thigh, the stockings clung to her slender legs like sinful ropes. The too-small sweater never covered her midriff, and her pert breasts strained against the material, nipples already hardening in anticipation. She would turn to inspect herself in the mirror, running practiced hands over the expanse of forbidden flesh, the cosplay bulldog clip winking mockingly from the ruffled hem of her skirt.
The second half of her transformation nestled between the swell of her breasts – a large, throbbing dildo modeled after the cocks that dominated teenage wet dreams. Lily would run her tongue along the shaft reverently before settling it into the drawer of her bra. The weight of it nestled against her sternum, the over-sized head just peeking out the top. She would close her eyes and sigh, relishing the feel of the hard plastic between her small breasts, a dirty promise of the pleasure to come.
With practiced ease, the petite schoolgirl would hitch up her too-short skirt and sit on the closed toilet. The cold of the bowl’s plastic would seep through the thin fabric of her panties and remind her of her own forbidden heat. She would lean back on one elbow, running the other hand slowly down her nubile body, pinching and tugging her own nipples through the fabric of her cosplay. With each press and pull, her virginal pussy would clench around the hated purity ring embedded in her soft flesh – a lesser pleasure, but one she trained herself to endure.
As her arousal grew, Lily would tug her panties to the side and allow her fingers to explore her fast-warming petals. She would whimper at the first touch, ducking her head shamefully even as she spread her thighs wider apart. With each dip and press, she could feel her own sticky arousal coating her slim digits. The wet sounds would seem scandalously loud in the reverent chapel of the stalls – sins that echoed back like the ringing of a dirty bell.
She would bring her sopping fingers to her cherry lips – a secret baptism of the most perversely holy kind. She could taste the musk of her lust, the salt tears of a pleasure that daggers between bliss and regret. The shivery touch of her own excitement on tongue and throat unleashed a flood of desire in the innocent cabin of her pelvis. Her gorgeously nubbin would swell, insistently seeking out the pressure of a amplifying touch. With each moan that vibrated through her lightly freckled chest, Lily would draw closer to that elusive rim of rupture.
Just when thepresentiment of release surfaces like a pious nun to lecture on forbidden fruit, the schoolgirl would collapse which a shudder. Her thighs would clench desperately around the pressure of her fingers as she rode that most taboo wave. She would bite back screams, letting them trickle out in slowed song, as the wet pulsing of her petals shivered her toward rapture. Tears would spring unbidden to the edges of her eyes, silently pleading mercy, even as her hips gyrated with the repetition of a prayer.
The Petite Teen loses herself to a sticky rapture that shivers her soul into tiny ribbons, Lily would finally understood the sweet agony of religious revival. Her body convulsed like a soul possessed, thrashing and gasping into the heel of her hand. The airiness of her boundlessness would inspire a rash of hitching cries, of rocking teeter. The pleasure that occupies the space between devotion and debauchery would ricochet through her, pulse after pulse regret.
At last, she would slump back against the cold tank of the toilet, every part of her sensitive, aglint from her ceaseless sin. She would stare destiny through at her reflection, dully owning the girl who made such a mess in the cubicle, the volume suitably worth volume the suit. The dampness that she to her sticky underwear would feel like testament shame. She would snatch her smudging underwear off, rucking them into her bag with hands that. She would wash herself, forlorn and if was the only cleansing that her sullied would could endure. She would clothe herself again in the necessary uniform – in her own skin.
In the quiet halls of St. Mary’s Academy for Young Ladies, Lily would pull open the door to the stall and walk out, her face set in a mask of icy obedience. She would emerge from the bathroom without chatting with her friends or teacher, without her usual self-conscious giggles. She would simply walk back into the classroom, chin up, breasts high, imbued with an aura of barely restrained come-hither confidence. The girl who had left the bathroom, the one with messy hair and unmarked thighs, looked shockingly like the one who emerged – but this Lily seemed to walk in the aura of a new, knowing sensuality, one learned only in the most secret compartments of ritual. The nuns and students would study her curiously, some undermined, some attraction, some simply waiting, all scanning slowly inside for any reason to scold.
But they would find none, because Lily would be dressed as convincingly as any first aid kit sin. She was, after all, just a schoolgirl – a schoolgirl with a heart full of secrets and a hunger for harder toys. She would walk the hallway, the acheth of smaller breasts and swollen. The ensuite gift died in her schoolbag. The plastic cock would stay in her bra, its outline clearly obscene but concealed behind a proper education.
