Bad student

Lexy’s supposed to crack open that textbook and grind through her reading list, but the girl’s attention drifts south instead. Book hits the desk, skirt rides up, and she’s rubbing slow circles over damp cotton panties like the words on the page insulted her. Mid-moan she hears the door click open: Monsieur Durand stands there with an armful of grammar worksheets and an expression that says he walked in on the punchline of a very dirty joke. Lexy’s cheeks flare hot, yet she flashes a wicked little grin and swings off the bed, bare feet padding straight toward him. “Don’t go yet, Monsieur, stay a minute—or two,” she purrs, toe already stroking up the inseam of his trousers. A tiny gasp escapes him, but his cock jerks anyway, and the worksheets tumble to the floor. Lexy drops to her knees, curls one leg up, arches her foot, and wraps warm toes around his length through the fabric, pumping slow, teasing. When he’s panting her name, she peels her panties down one ankle, pulls him onto the mattress, and guides every hard inch inside, her heel still hooked behind his thigh so she can keep stroking his skin with those painted nails while he fucks her breathless.