The Last Sashay

He let her rest, and when he judged her barely recovered he went to work on her with vigor and vengeance, pumping his hard manliness in and out of her a thousand times a second as he held her down. He felt the sweat pour out of her, she was drenched from head to toe, as was he, and her sexual juices soaked his pubic hair and hers, the smell of sex permeating the room, and then She had her second orgasm, if anything it was more powerful than the one before; it was her second orgasm ever with a man inside her, and the first a man had wreaked upon her, and she howled like a banshee and the contractions of her tight vagina rippled up and down the length of cock inside her. Oh this is good he thought, yes my little Camille is quite a find, quite a tasty dish; that's number two and now it's my turn.

It was time, exactly two after three, and Mr. Punire had started on his own climb to climax, was hard and hot and fucking her brutally, she judged him just about halfway there and in walked Mr. Hartley. Old Mr. Hartley, who saw the scene before him, was nearly bowled over by the rank odor of sweat and feminine secretions, and blew his top. "Get off her," he screamed, in a rage of jealousy and anger. "Get off her you pervert. She's only... eighteen," he realized. "You can't do this. Not in my school you can't. I'm bringing you up on charges, you'll be blackballed forever."

"Mr. Punire wasn't halfway there, he was all the way there, but just not quite all of all the way there, not quite all the way there enough that with Mr. Hartley screaming his head off he could bring himself over the edge, and he was furious with frustration, but there was nothing he could do; his erection flagged, then sank, then shriveled up to nothingness and he fell out of her, out of poor little Camille, who was up on her elbows, looking at the two old timers, the one blowing his top, the other who'd blown his chance of a lifetime to get off on the sweetest of sweet young things. She was smiling, oh yes she was smiling, she was totally satisfied on every level, and Camille then stood and retrieved the clothing she'd worn to school that day, and put it on as Mr. Hartley and Mr. Punire railed and swore at each other, Mr. Hartley threatening Mr. Punire with expulsion from The Form, and Mr. Punire threatening Mr. Hartley with the same for his excesses.

Mr. Punire looks so silly she thought, standing naked with his shriveled dick, his shriveled unsatisfied dick still wet with my juices, and Mr. Hartley foaming at the mouth, apoplectic, red, possibly close to a heart attack. Mmm hmmm... she went about her business, humming as she dressed, and when she was back in order she went to the bathroom and took Mr. Punire's book, "Procedures of The Form, Rules and Regulations," and slipped it into her backpack, grabbed her purse, her harem shirt and pants, and swinging her hips and humming a song she walked on out, dropping the transportation pass releasing Mr. Punire from responsibility at their feet. Let them sort it out she thought.

The last thing she heard was Mr. Punire yelling "look here, you're responsible," and Mr. Hartley yelling back, "but you were fucking her." She sashayed on down the hall.