Chapter 7
Ava leads the way, her hips swaying with confidence. I follow, my skirt still hiked up from the out last railing, my thighs still l sticky with my juices.
Jordan walks behind us, his c**k already half-hard again; it’s probably the memory of my tight cunt and Ava’s commands fueling his hunger.
The principal’s office is straight ahead, its heavy oak door closed with the golden nameplate gleaming (Principal Whitmore). I smile, oh, this will be fun.
Ava doesn’t knock. She turns the handle, pushing the door open slowly. The office is empty, the large mahogany desk in the middle of the space, the table empty except for a single framed photo of the principal and his wife.
My breath hitches as Ava shuts the door behind us, Jordan exhales sharply, his fingers twitching at his side
