Tart, I thought, sharp, maybe; tart had other meanings that didn't fit Rachael.In English that morning, I glanced at Rachael, who smiled back. She was...wearing, I was surprised to see, a black dress too, very long, almost midway between her knees and ankles, but no stockings. Her dress was beautiful, embroidered with all sorts of colorful flowers, blues and yellows and reds and greens.After class we met outside, and walked towards PE, quickly, because it was a ways. "I love your dress," I told. He was hung, but not as much as she was. She smiled with joy, licking his butt, gently wanking his dick, feeling her own erection grow with magic and love. "Are you ready for me, baby?" she whispered into his ear. "Hmm," he replied, grinning, jiggling his tight butt cheeks a little. "I know what that means," she said, smiling, and slapping the insides of his ass cheeks. "I want to cum in your ass, I am so fucking hard for you," she whispered in his ear. He turned to kiss her, and held her. More

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