The afternoon sun streamed through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow over the rows of desks, the faint rustle of papers and murmurs of students creating a deceptive calm. Abir sat near the front, his mind still buzzing from the previous night's events, his muscular frame relaxed yet alert. The door swung open, and Joita entered, her confident stride drawing eyes as Riya followed close behind. Both women approached Abir, their presence commanding attention. Joita's lithe figure was accentuated by a fitted red top and jeans, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, while Riya's curvaceous form was hugged by a black dress, her hazel eyes glinting with curiosity. The air shifted, charged with an unspoken promise as they reached him.
Joita leaned close, her voice a provocative whisper that sent a shiver down Abir's spine. "I heard about your interesting schedule, Abir. How about I warm you up before you fuck Riya?" she suggested, her lips curling into a teasing smile. Riya giggled softly, her gaze flickering between them, adding, "I'm looking forward to seeing what all the fuss is about."
Abir's pulse quickened, a smirk tugging at his lips as he recalled the night's dominance over Monika. "Let's see if you can keep up," he replied, his tone laced with challenge. The classroom emptied as the last students filed out, leaving the three alone, the silence amplifying their intent. Joita led the way to a secluded corner behind the teacher's desk, the wooden surface cool to the touch, the faint scent of chalk dust lingering in the air.
Joita hopped onto the desk's edge, spreading her legs as Abir stepped between them, ripping her jeans open to expose her wet pussy, the fabric tearing with a sharp rip. He thrust into her with brutal force, the desk creaking under the impact, its wood vibrating with each slam, her moan—"Ohh, Abir, yes!"—a sharp cry echoing off the walls. Her breasts strained against her red top, the fabric stretching as they bounced, the salty sweat beading on her skin and dripping onto the desk, leaving a cool trail, her first breaking point hitting with a shudder, the room filling with the musky scent of her arousal.
He pulled her to the wall, pinning her against the cool plaster, its rough texture biting into her back as he rammed his cock deep with savage depth, the wall trembling slightly. Her moan—"Ahh, Abir, deeper!"—her second breaking point a trembling wail, her breasts pressing into the plaster, the friction warming her skin, the tangy aroma of her exertion mixing with the chalk dust, her jeans hanging in tatters around her thighs.
Abir threw her to the floor, the cold tiles sending a chill up her spine as he thrust with relentless fury, his hips slamming against her with a wet smack, the sound reverberating. Her moan—"Mmm, Abir, yes!"—her third breaking point a hoarse cry, her breasts jiggling wildly under her top, the tiles growing slick with her sweat, the earthy scent of her juices soaking the surface, her body arching in response.
He dragged her to a chair, bending her over the backrest, the metal frame groaning under her weight as he hammered into her with apocalyptic force, the wood splintering slightly. Her moan—"Ohh, Abir, harder!"—her fourth breaking point a soft wail, her breasts swaying freely as her top rode up, the chair's cold metal pressing into her stomach, the room thick with the pungent odor of her submission, the air heavy with the creak of the furniture.
Abir lifted her back onto the desk, spreading her legs wide, his cock plunging with earth-shattering depth, the surface slick with her sweat and juices, the wood groaning under the assault. Her moan—"Ahh, Abir, more!"—her fifth breaking point a weak gasp, her breasts heaving, the desk wobbling precariously, the air heavy with the raw scent of her defeat, her skin flushed and glistening.
He pulled her to the window ledge, bending her over the cool glass, the condensation from her breath fogging the surface as he thrust with brutal intensity, the ledge rattling. Her moan—"Mmm, Abir, yes!"—her sixth breaking point a trembling cry, her breasts pressed against the glass, the cold seeping into her skin, the musky aroma of her arousal mixing with the faint outdoor breeze seeping through the cracks.
Abir threw her back to the floor, twisting her onto her side, the tiles cold and hard against her hip as he pounded with savage speed, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing. Her moan—"Ohh, Abir, deeper!"—her seventh breaking point a soft wail, her breasts jiggling with each thrust, the salty sweat pooling on the tiles, the earthy scent of her exertion intensifying, her body quaking under his force.
He dragged her to the blackboard, pressing her against the smooth, chalk-dusted surface, ramming into her with apocalyptic force, the board creaking with each thrust. Her moan—"Ahh, Abir, harder!"—her eighth breaking point a desperate gasp, her breasts flattening against the board, the chalk dust clinging to her sweat-slick skin, the room filled with the pungent odor of her submission.
Riya watched, her breath hitching, her hands trembling as she unbuttoned her dress, revealing a lacy bra and panties, her big breasts and rounded hips beckoning. Her eyes locked on Abir's relentless form, her fingers tracing the edge of her bra in nervous excitement. The group's reaction from the previous night echoed in his mind, fueling his aggression as Joita slumped against the blackboard, her body trembling, her breath ragged, her lithe frame glistening with sweat.
Abir stepped back, his chest heaving, turning his gaze to Riya. She stepped forward, shedding her panties, her curvaceous body exposed, her skin warm and inviting. "I'm ready, Abir," she said, her voice a sultry invitation, her eyes daring him to continue.