She began to grind her buttocks down into the mattress, while his finger teased the moist sensitive slit of her pussy, gently probing it, parting the soft pubic hair that covered her little mound. It played for a moment there, then searched out and found the tiny throbbing bud of her clitoris, massaged it gently until it seemed to spring to quivering life of its own. She moaned again, and then the moans turned to soft, half-hushed whimpers as Dave's hand curled under her pinkly glistening pussy to part the fleshy cunt-lips. His middle finger traced the narrow hair-lined slit once more, then found the moist little hole hidden within.

With a quick flick of his wrist, he shoved his middle finger deep between the throbbing pink pussy flesh, skewering it deep into the narrow cuntal passage. She jerked as he rotated it around inside, teasing the wet, sensitive walls, then gasped out a little moan of surrender to the lascivious plundering of her young, newly ripened body.

In the conference room where once the august members of the School Board had sat discussing problems of the district, the same members sat watching the lewd tableau behind the two-way mirror. Suddenly, the dean grew impatient. "Why doesn't Dave ram it to her? Shit, that little kid in there is dying for it!"

Harlan Dryer who had once been on the faculty of Billings college down the road from Craven Girls School spun around to stare at Dean Lowell. "Shit, if he isn't ready to fuck her," he advised, his hand indicating the bulge in the front of his pants, "then I will!" He began to unbuckle his belt, letting it hang open, then quickly unzipped his fly. He had started to pull his pants off when Matt Connors put his hand on his shoulder.