Youth Group has been especially hard these past two weeks. That’s because my Slutty Little Church Girl outfits are springing up rock solid boners in the parish boys’ pants.
Mr. Collins was at Sunday service this week, and I couldn’t help but notice his lingering gaze as I pranced through the aisle and got down on my knees to offer myself to him like a dirty virgin sacrifice. Without a bra, my nipples play peek-a-boo under my sheer turtleneck sweater. The red little tips are like buttons just waiting to be twisted, prodded and titty fucked . . . but what’s really not angelic is my thigh-high skirt. When I saunter, the hem swishes and sways to reveal toned, taut skin on my round ass . . . I’ve stopped wearing panties so when I bend over, my bare pussy tells men exactly what I want them to do to me. Mr. Collins smells how wet I am for him . . . how bad I need him to force his fuckstick inside me.
All in all, it’s enough heat to make a girl pray for salvation. Or maybe just a good pussy popping.
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