Sorority Rush Week: Mean Dean

Emily Willis huddles in the locker room, jittery as hell. She whispers to herself, "Last stunt for the Girlsway rush—you grab the dean’s clothes while she showers and you’re in. Piece of cake." She gives herself a little fist pump, then freezes when the door opens. "Shit, you don’t got this." She dives behind the nearest locker, a joke of a hiding spot. Serene Siren strolls in wearing tight workout gear. She clocks the freshman right away but keeps the game going, peeling off her clothes nice and slow. Emily risks quick glances, just enough to see those curves and to figure out which locker is Serene’s. Almost caught once, she ducks, heart pounding. Once Serene grabs a towel and heads for the showers, Emily bolts out. "Now or never," she mutters, yanking open lockers until she scores the dean’s clothes. Triumph lights up her face—until a sharp voice cuts through. "What exactly do you think you’re doing?" Serene’s still bone-dry and standing right there. Emily’s caught, clothes in her arms, excuses spilling out. Serene shuts her down fast: "Drop the act. I know you’re one of those Girlsway pledges. Every damn rush week they try this crap." She’s pissed—closet’s half empty thanks to them—and now she’s got the dirt she needs to shut the sorority down for good. Emily’s panic spikes. She can’t be the reason the house gets axed; she’d be campus roadkill. She drops to her knees, begging, "Please, I’ll do anything." Serene’s grin turns wicked. "Stay down there. Get to work. Lick my pussy and maybe—just maybe—I’ll forget about ratting you out." Emily stares at the dean’s bare pussy, licks her lips, then dives in. Serene moans, feeds her orders, hips rolling against that eager tongue. When she’s had enough, she flips the script—tongue and fingers buried in Emily’s tight cunt until the blonde’s shaking. Then Serene climbs on top, tits pressed to tits, grinding them both to a soaking, trembling orgasm. Will one good tongue-lashing be enough to keep the dean from torching Girlsway for good?