There's Nothing Wrong With A Little Squirting

Kimmy Kimm walked into the school nurse’s office with Julia James hanging back for support. Something weird was happening and she needed to know what the hell it was. London River gave her a quick once-over and came up empty. Nothing looked off. Kimmy swallowed hard and laid out the full filthy details—what her body did, how it gushed, how it left her shaking and soaked. London caught on fast. The girl wasn’t sick, she’d squirted. Kimmy’s eyes went wide like the word was brand-new. London answered every confused question, calm and direct, but the worry still sat heavy in Kimmy’s stomach. ‘Fine,’ London said with that no-bullshit grin. ‘You want proof it’s normal? Lie back.’ She slid two fingers inside, angled them just right, and worked Kimmy until the first clear jet sprayed across her wrist. Kimmy gasped, half-moan, half-surprise, but London didn’t ease off. She kept pumping, rubbing that spot until a second, stronger burst coated the exam table. Julia watched from the corner, thighs pressed tight together, nipples poking hard through thin cotton. Before long the uniform tops hit the floor. London hiked Kimmy’s skirt up, licked her clean between sprays, tongue flicking over a swollen clit. Kimmy grabbed London’s hair and pushed her cunt against that hot mouth. Julia finally stepped in, tugged London’s scrubs open and latched onto a thick nipple while two fingers curled inside the nurse at the same pace. They took turns. London squirted next—legs braced on the metal stool, juices arcing in fat ropes down her own thighs. Kimmy shoved three fingers in, shocked at how tight the older woman felt when she came. Julia climbed up, straddled London’s face and rode her tongue until she flooded it, making wet sounds that echoed off the office walls. Nobody stopped until the room smelled like sex, the paper liner on the table ruined, three bodies flushed and grinning.