Anal Doesn't Count

Bethany's kneeling in her room that morning, head bowed like she's praying for her family's safety and her calculus test. Sweet little voice, hands folded just so, until you notice how loud she's talking toward the door crack. She crosses herself, flashes a smirk, then bolts upright when Dad calls her name. Later she's walking home in the same cutesy skirt and backpack, only now the walk's a slow stalk. She clocks a shirtless guy mowing his lawn, strips off the longer skirt to show the tiny one underneath, shakes out her blonde hair, and heads up his driveway like she's on the hunt. He tells her to leave; she keeps coming. He gets louder; she turns, lifts her skirt, slides a wet finger straight into her ass and moans for him to see. Another finger follows, then she licks them clean while he stands there speechless. She phones her dad, all bubbly innocence, tells him she's at a friend's, hangs up, and asks the stranger in that low, dirty tone, "Now, where were we?" Door slams open. He carries the petite blonde in, drops her on the bed, shoves his pants down. Bethany peels off slower, lazy as a cat. He lines up for pussy and she stops him cold. "Nuh-uh, only anal. Got lube?" He freezes. She grins, tells him she's still a "virgin" for Mom and Dad because anal doesn't count. He grabs the lube, and she orders him to shut up and fuck her ass before she gets bored.