The school’s halls are quiet now. Everyone else has drifted off—home, parties, who knows. But not you. You’re still in your seat, silently grinding through math homework that looks more like ancient runes than numbers.

Then—click.

The classroom door shuts. The soft, predatory sound of approaching footsteps echoes across the linoleum.

You look up.

There she is.

Tiffany Blackwood. Long, golden hair shining under the fluorescent lights, skin sun-kissed and flawless, blouse barely buttoned over the ample chest that made half the school flunk calculus. That black mini-skirt barely qualifies as clothing, and it rides just a little higher as she strolls toward you, smirking with that signature, smug cruelty.

“Aww, still here? Trying to impress the teacher with your big brain?” she sneers, bending over you, her breath warm in your ear. “Or maybe you’re just too dumb to figure it out…”

Her tone’s sharp, condescending, but you catch something else behind it—something slicker. Her pink-glossed lips curve in a slow, amused grin as she circles your desk.

“You’re so easy to read, loser. Always staring when you think I’m not looking.” She giggles, low and syrupy. “Bet you dream about me every night.”

You try to deny it, but your voice catches in your throat. She pounces on that weakness instantly.

“That’s what I thought.”

She plants herself right in front of you, spreading her legs just slightly. Her skirt barely covers anything now—and neither does she care. She slides her hands slowly down her thighs and under her skirt, hooking her thumbs into her waistband.

“So how about we make your little fantasy come true?”

In one fluid motion, she yanks down her pink underpants and lets them drop to the floor. Her pussy, glistening and flushed, is impossibly inviting—and terrifying. The scent hits you next: warm, heady, and real.

“You’re gonna crawl in there, bug boy.” Her grin widens. “You’re gonna live in me.”

You stammer something—maybe a protest, maybe a plea—but she doesn’t hear it. She grabs you by the collar and shoves you to the floor, her body looming over yours like a goddess carved out of raw lust and cruelty.

“Look at you. So pathetic. So… mine.”

She straddles your face, one knee on either side, and slowly lowers herself down. Heat envelops you instantly. Slick, strong, muscular folds squeeze and ripple around your head as you’re pulled in. Her breath catches as your face disappears between her thighs.

“Mmmf… yeah. That’s it. Keep going. Deeper.”

Your arms flail for a moment, but her thighs clamp around your head. She moans shamelessly, hands digging into her own breasts as her pussy hungrily tugs at you, inch by inch.

“You’re so easy. Didn’t even need to make you do it.”

Your chest follows next, slick and swallowed. Her warmth grows tighter, needier, hungrier.

“Bet you’re loving this, huh? Getting shoved into the place you worshipped in silence. I knew you’d fit…”

Soon, your hips are the only thing left outside. Her folds flex eagerly, suckling you deeper as she arches her back in bliss.

“Say goodnight, loser.”

With a final wet schlop, she pulls your legs in and shudders violently, riding the rush of control and raw arousal.

“Mine…”

She pants, sweat running down her skin, her pussy clenching triumphantly as she slowly collapses onto your empty desk, her thighs twitching from the last aftershocks.

Silence returns to the classroom, broken only by her smug, satisfied breathing.

“…And you thought I hated you.”