Patreon Exclusive Story - Some Trouble at School (Patreon)

'Oooooooooooooooh! OOOOOOOOooooooooooooh! Fuck me! Yeah, FUCK my slutty pussy with your big cock! Fuck me like a bitch! Oh yeah! Oh! Oh! OH!'

Everyone tried to avoid each other's eyes as they heard it. A few noticeably stiffled a laugh.

And it was fucking funny, too, thinking of our dour, pudgy, sanctimonious old geezer of a principal on... ahem... 'his' hands and knees in a dirty janitor's cupboard, squealing and begging, face twisted, hips bucking, ass thrust out high, taking it like a whore from some snotty-nosed special needs freshman.

I'm not sure if the school's trashiest slut knew just how thin the walls were, or just how clearly the whole school could hear her pleading and squealing every hour or so when she dragged some kid somewhere quiet to momentarily cool off the endless fire blazing in her scanty little panties... But I DO know that she wouldn't have cared.

She held out unusually long today - she must have spent all morning in her special-needs remedial class, surreptitiously diddling herself, telling herself that she'd do it this time: get through the whole day and even mince off home without her pussy leaking and the taste of five different boy's cum lingering on her talented tonsils.

Oh well, we all dream the impossible dream.

Anyone who had seen her wiggling her pert-and-perky ass down the corridors, a slice of premium fucktoy made of wobbling tit, pouting lip, tendrils of hair, and a lost look of hopeless, helpless stupidity, all wrapped in a porno-joke of a slutty, skanky schoolgirl outfit, would know that she would only ever be at ease with her legs spread and all memory of thought or dignity forgotten.

I called her 'Misty' - and, consequently, so did everyone else. She was one of my favourite little works of art.

...Not that she was without competition.

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'Hey, dickless', I called to Terry, repeating what was once one of his very favourite insults.

He coloured and turned to leave, not just because of the obvious, but - I suspect - also because the darling little pink pussy between his legs had taken a schoolgirlish liking to me.

I know it had in fact - I had made it that way.

I still beat off furiously to the look on his face when he realised what I had somehow done. That stupid, horrified gape as his fingers traced for the first time the thing that his beloved cock had folded and shriveled and opened (it's like origami!) into.

It was truly a darlin' little thing - so very tight and virginal. 

I'd decided that he didn't deserve a big-girl pussy, so it was a cute little pink tween one.

...And it had QUITE the boy-crazy mind of its own...

The look on his face had been almost as fappable the first time he realised that the thought of Justin Bieber was making it WET. An accidentally-glimpsed picture of the perennially shirtless 'Twilight' werewolf made it SWELL and GUSH, and him peep like the tween that an important part of him was...

I'd watched him, of course. Oh, how I laughed and fapped myself stupid the first few times he'd broken down and watched a Justin Bieber video on his laptop while enthusiastically investigating the endless joys of his adorable, ticklish lil' clittie.

He came like a girl, too.

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'Need some help there, Larry?'

The girl turned and looked at me quickly, horror burning in her sky-blue eyes. No-one but me called Lilly that anymore.

She was standing, stuck, at a door - and my arrival clearly made her even more eager to leave. She tried to duck past me down the corridor, but I moved to block her.

'Now, now, Larry - why don't you just open the door?'

She glanced quickly down at the two gravity-defying melons of creamy flesh that she was vainly trying to conceal with her tiny girlish hands, only barely covering her pink nipples, and then to the doorhandle. She bit her pouty lip in calculation as she flashed a quick glance at me and the rest of the gathering crowd.

She tried to turn her back on us as best she could - giving us a perfect, breathtaking view of her swollen ass, showcased perfectly in a her barely-there lacy pink thong, and lifted to rap-video jiggling perkiness by her matching pink 6-inch heels.

...And even from behind, her jaw-dropping knockers were easily discernable, bulging around the edge of her dainty torso. There was no angle from which her titties couldn't be checked out - it's called DESIGN, people.

And ever since I had gifted her with that perfectly-wrought wet-dream body, she had discovered herself unable to wear anything other than a teeeeensy-tiny pink lace thong and matching sky-high stripper heels. Anything else would crumble instantly to dust.

Trying to keep her big pink nipples out of public view had become her full-time job, her dainty hands were eternally clutched hard against her immense boobies, vainly trying to stay in the right place despite their endless bouncing and wobbling...

It made quite a few things hard - like opening doors.

Biting harder at her lip and trying to glimpse back through her thick, covergirl hair, her hand darted from its creamy perch. She peeped and almost lost her balance as her titty exploded into freedoom with a dance that was almost as impressive from behind, but her teensy little delicate hand reached the knob and...

Someone in a hurry burst through from the other side.

Larry/Lilly squealed and teetered for a brief instant in her strappy pink stripperheels before she sat down heavily on her big, exposed ass. 

She looked up, pouting heavily.

Everyone was frozen, gaping, seemingly too afraid to breathe...

Everyone, male or female, teacher or student, gay or straight, was gawping at, their eyes all converging at...

Every hand suddenly flew to its owner's crotch - male or female, teacher or student, gay or straight - the revelation of such impossible wet-dream perfection had the same heart-stopping effect.

It took the stunned bimbo a moment to realise that she had instinctively let go of her chest in her fall, she gazed down - almost being slapped in the face by her vast, freely bouncing bosom before shrieking loudly and grabbing at herself.

Long shimmering hair was whipped across her face by the speed of her motion, and as she sat there, almost naked in heels, her hands personally demonstrating the impossible firmness and suppleness of the endowments that they were caressing and thrusting into, her big blue eyes blazing with anger and a sense of defilement, every single leering spectator came, spectacularly, in their pants.

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The scene: A typical enough encounter between a group of nerds and the cool, mean jocks.

The line of laughing football players stood there, laughing in their dark, mocking tones...

It was just a flicker of my eyes. I doubt any of them saw it.

And the line of cheerleaders bounced enthusiastically on our cocks.

Brad's girlishly pretty face stared at me blankly for an instant, his long, luxurious locks flying around his head in an adorable mess of soft gold and twisting ribbons. His little skirt occasionally giving of flash of toned teenage flesh and even a naughty hint as to the source of the loud squelching as he so enthusiastically continued to buck and bounce his hips.

I think it took a moment for them to realise the source of that bell-like chorus. They sounded so adorable too - still at the age where a soft childlike tone lingered in their voices despite the impressive blossoming of their figures.

They waved their pom-poms in sync with their cheers.

'One! Two! Three! Four! We're the winners, that's for sure!'

Brad had to bite an instant on one of his pouty lips to stiffle a moan.

His makeup was teen-girl over the top: all dramatic eye-shadow and too-red lipstick.

All part of his naive girl-next-door-look. Such a great cheerleader.

'God! You're so tight, Brad! So TIGHT!', I whispered to him. 'Soooo tight and wet and warm. I bet you can feel every last wrinkle of my cock in there, can't you? No wonder your nips are so hard'

There was just the hint of a horrified glance down at his tight, perfectly-outlining sweater, where the two heavily jiggling mounds were intermittently being rubbed in my face, before he returned his concentration to his routine. 

Such dedication.

'Five! Six! Seven! Eight! The best players in the state!'

I squeezed harder at his perky little bubble-butt as I held his bouncing body in place, my hands way up his skirt.

He had to try harder to stifle that moan. 

They reached a high jump part of their cheers and hurled themselves upwards, then down with a new degree of force. Eyes rolled and tongues ran across parted lips as cocks probed new depths and folds of pink, girlish flesh.

'You're gonna run that cute little pussy ragged at this rate, Brad.' I whispered again, 'And what will people say then? Look at that little slut! - she's only had a pussy for two minutes and she's stretched it out already!'

There was a new kind of motion in the girl's movements now as they performed.

Finally, it came to the big finish, as they tossed their pom-poms high, heads flying back, a row of warm, perky teen titties being mashed into faces as their final cheer lifted into squeals.

Pretty, carefully made-up cheerleader faces twisted, eyes bulging, moist lips pulling into an 'Ooooooo!' as they felt warmth gush up into them like a skyrocket.

That hot splash of cum filling them...

Hips bucked, sending little skirts up indecently high as the new cheerleaders, their arms still reaching stiffly upwards, shaking pom-poms hard, squealed and moaned and shrieked.

I could feel Brad's nipples, outlined like marbles beneath his so-tight, stretchy little red sweater, as they were rubbed across my cheeks. 

Brad was quite the screamer.