<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/a/a5/Emmaq8.jpg)</div><strong>Character:</strong>Emma Q<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Kim, Open<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Darkroom → Halls<br/><br/><hr/><br/>Today was shaping up to be an awesome day!<br/><br/>Emma had been so busy playing dress-up that morning that she'd hardly stopped to enjoy the sensation of this new part of her. There was a honeyed pant for breath against her tight knuckles as she tried to replicate for herself the feel of penetration. It felt like her classmate was begging her for it, and there was a little voice, a little pitchfork-carrying voice, egging her on. Her toes touched, and she perked up on them. Oh- oh, it was coming again! The tiny wet smack of a fat load entering the cave of Kim's mouth made her giddy, but not as giddy as the ones that seemed to go off target. She was being wicked naughty, making a mess for someone else to clean up.<br/><br/>Fingers only tightened in Kim's hair as she caught her breath in the darkness, more controlling than ever. She could hear the suction of fingers being cleaned, feel the barest resistance of the young woman's head tipping to spoon up what had dribbed down her chin. Weak as a noodle, her insatiable new organ still chiseled and drooling, Emma sank down to Kim's level, and the hard pinch of fingers into hair became a beckoning clasp at the back of her head. Emma couldn't see where her lips were going to touch, as she came forward to kiss. She followed the sound of breathing, but slipped across gooey cheek, and felt her way with the sensitive tips of her lips for the right spot. There, where Kim's tongue could not decide if it wanted to be in or outside of her mouth.<br/><br/>"Slp." Without compunction, she helped to clean and bring her cum to Kim's mouth. Her modest chest pushed up under Kim's jaw, and she urged her head to tilt back under tight control so that she could aim. "Ptuh." The tongue was a crude tool for trying to gather it up, she quickly found- it was too viscous. But she could find it with her tongue, and gather with her lips, and leave wet trails behind on Kim's skin. "Sch." Cleaning up after a science project had never made her feel so burning hot and desperately wet, but cleanup was a group activity. Mrs. Manson had taught them that. "Thp."<br/><br/>That, she decided when her jaw was slippery clean, was good enough. Emma dabbed her mouth dry, and succumbed to her rabbit instinct to flee. This had to remain a secret, even between the two of them. In a rustle of skirt and a patter of Mary Janes she discovered the door. The merest sliver of light suggested her silhouette, waifishly thin and with a poof of curls, as she slipped from the darkroom. "Thanks," she whispered just before the door sealed.<em>Emma, you dummy. Why would you say that? Who says thanks for a fuck? </em><br/><br/>But now she was twice as hard and without the camera strap to help. Emma stole a textbook from the art room table, and clutched it across her lap to return to class.