Isolde withdrew her hand, bringing her fingertips to her nose and inhaling deeply. The scent of her arousal filled her nostrils, making her dizzy.
Determined to regain control of herself, Isolde straightened her uniform and smoothed back her hair.
She would forget about what she'd seen today. Pretend it never happened. Focus on her progress, her future...
But even as she told herself these things, she knew it would be impossible to erase the memory of Elion's cock stretching Beatrice's tight cunt, or the way his strong hands gripped her hips as he pounded into her relentlessly.
Isolde's pussy clenched at the thought, fresh juices trickling down her inner thigh.
She bit her lip, stifling a moan as she imagined herself in Beatrice's place, impaled on Elion's thick shaft, screaming his name as he brought her to heights of ecstasy she'd never.
Pah!
She slapped her cheeks, "Get a grip Isolde!" breathing out heavily, she strode out into the corridor.
