The students were more than bewildered. Yes, they were aware the lightning was Amy's ability, but that didn't answer the question of their whereabouts.
Had she gone or it's another performance? Another unexpected move to demonstrate her prowess?
They all blankly stared at the Black Couples- previous position, the position, a testament to thier earlier marvelous performance.
Meanwhile, amidst the confusion looming in Flemdales' grand hall, somewhere in the urban neon-city, two teenagers sat on an old cushioned sofa in a poorly lit house, laughing and giggling maniacally.
"I can only imagine their looks," Amy giggled, her tits bouncing as her chest heaved. "So classic. Oliver must hate himself right now."
"Oh, I can tell. He sure didn't see that coming." Syril replied, adding his own laughter.
"And you..." Amy's voice dropped to a teasing tone, her breath coming in ragged, disrupted pattern. "You were... outstanding. It was t-too per-fect. How... did you learn to move like that?"
A grin formed on his face. "Me? Been practicing. You know... for times like this."
"Liar!" Her refutal was sharp, completely unconvinced. "How come you didn't get the posture in the beginning? You only got it after my guidance."
Syril chuckled and playfully rose his hand in a surrender posture, saying; "Fine, fine, you got me! I just followed my instincts."
"Hmm, really?" Amy hummed, pulling near to meet his gaze. "It was unatural... everything about you has always been."
"I've always admired you for your resilience, Syril. Awarded half scholarship, you struggled to pay the rest of your tuition. Lack ability, you fought against odds. You keep pushing no matter the circumstance."
"It's... compelling and... dangerous. I like it." She confessed, her eyes slitting narrowly, cheeks burning crimson.
Syril shuddered, drawn aback by her sudden confession. He managed to stutter, "Me? You-you've... always felt this way? Why me? Why are you... interested in a worthle..."
She inched closer and placed a finger on his lips, to seal the last words. "Shh... you're a lot. I just couldn't... bring myself to tell you. I was afraid to associate with you. My parents status and all..."
"Pfft! Who cares? Not until now, Syril. I can tell you all..."
Syril's concentration was broken when a familiar ding rang in his head, and a holo screen flashed before him.
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[REMINDER!!!]
[Mission: Disvirgin yourself.]
[Reward: New Ability, New Special Skill, New Ability Skill.]
[Countdown: 8 hours, 31 minutes, 58 seconds.]
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She soon noticed the puzzled look on his face, and how his concentration seemed shattered.
"Syril? Did I..." she attempted to ask.
"Hey..." he kissed her finger before she could finish. "It's fine. I'm just surprised. That's all."
Amy moved closer again, her thigh touching his, sending electrifying jolts that kept him alert.
'Shit, I can't let her leave. I have to finish this,' he selfishly thought, his mind venturing to obscene images.
However, it seemed Amy was more interested than he was.
"Syril, I can't thank you enough for today. You... saved a lot." Her hand moved to his cheek before her index finger started stroking his lips, gentle, but sensational.
Before another word could be uttered, she closed the gap, and her lips crashed unto his.
She started softly, but soon grew wild, untamed.
Her hand had slid down, now boldly placed on his chest, as if to anchor herself. She snagged like a hungry beast, swapping saliva like a slut.
And Syril? He was long lost in dreamland. He yielded completely, melting into her lips, his hands already wandering her body, too.
The lip-lock was steamy and rough, both sides having a heating oral battle, wondering where this would lead.
Amy however, had chosen to make the first move, she suddenly jumped into a straddling position, spreading her thighs across his, sitting on his laps to get comfy.
They started twirling their tongues in a French kiss, coursing their heat into each other's mouth. Suddenly, Syril groaned into her mouth, his darkened eyes struggling to open.
She instantly broke from the steamy lock, but a grin creeped into her lips as she shifted forward to feel his hard bulge pushing into her thigh.
"Ooh, is someone getting too excited?" She teased, her words falling with deep, ragged exhalation.
"Shut up!" Syril snarled and pushed her to his chest, feeling her milky cleavage pressing on his chest. He held onto her waist gently, but firm enough to earn a gasp from her.
She thought he would go for her lips again, but he surprised by moving to her neck, his soft lips, sucking and pressing lazy patterns on her neck.
Her head flung back, and a louder gasp tore through her throat, accompanied by words like; "Aaaah, Syrrril! Right... there..."
They were still both dressed in the prom attire, both neither of them cared, too tempted to stay in the world they've created.
Syril's lips kept exploring, and he eventually added his tongue and teeth to the mix, nibbling, sucking and licking her rich skin like his life depended on it.
She cried out with every tease, his lips setting her skin on a pleasurable fire she'd hate to quench any time sooner.
His mouth soon found her exposed melons, milky and glistening with sweat under the dim light. He gently brushed his lips on her cleavage, a groan echoed immediately, her head flew back, she arched into his touch, her eyes dark with lust.
"Aaaaaaah, Syril! Don...don't stop now!" She screamed into the air, her eyes sealed tightly, her juice already escaping her folds, dampening her pantie like a whore.
"Oh, who's getting too excited now?" Syril muffled into her cleavage, her lavender cologne wafting stronger into his nostrils, stimulating and intoxicating.
"G-go on! Sy... Syril, taaake me!" Her arms flung to his occiput as she groaned, pushing his head deeper into her cleavage, her body quavering from the tension.
Syril didn't hesitate, he gently dragged her clothe's strap to her arm, revealing a full boob, milky toned and soft, with pink nipples hard like pebbles.
"Oh, look at this! Your nipple is ready for me? Tell me, aren't you enjoying this?!" Syril bellowed, his eyes darkening further as he already pictured the obscene scenes in his head.
How he'd bend her, spread her legs so wide, suspend her legs in the air, fill her to the hilt, spread and thrust so deep until she has no option than to scream his name in all languages.
"Ye-yes, Syril. I'm ready... I'm ready for you. Claim me, Syril. Mark me! Make me yours! I want you... all of you!" Her words poured like waterfall, her body trembling from the excitement, more juice escaping her tight folds.
He needed no more words, he seized her breast immediately, cupping her full flesh from under, feeling the warmth and softness. His mouth instinctively moved to her nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue in slow circles.
She cried and pushed further on the boy, her fingers lost in his now tousled hair, pulling as his tongue drove her wild. "Aaah! Yesssssss, don't... stop! DON'T STOP!!!" She yelled, her voice layered with ecstacy, another stream of juice filling her messy pantie.
Syril could almost feel the heat radiating from her folds, his heavy bulge stuck between her thighs.
He kept sucking regardless, squeezing her breast as his mouth played around her nipple, completely locked into the warmth her body emanated.
Surprisingly, she released a clutch and helped him with the other strap, now fully displaying her full breasts. The full breasts stood erect, with pink nipples hard like stones, luscious to the core.
Syril released her nipple with an obscene pop before saying; "Oh, you little whore! Already feeling the unevenness? Want me to suck on both nipples?!"
"Yessh! Suck them! Squ-eeze my big titties for me!" Her response came immediately, her confession honest.
'Fuck, she looks so sexy when she begs like that. Makes me want to strip her and rush into her like a horse.' Syril pondered, his cock twitching from the dark thought.
Amy had noticed it, how his bulge twitched subtly.
She instinctively started grinding her hips against his, feeling his restrained cock teasing her slick folds. She could feel more juices pouring out, her pantie wet so badly she felt his cock rubbing her clit.
"Aaaaaaaaah! Fuck! Remove it, Syril! Everything! Remove it!" A guttural yell escaped her throat, commanding with a tone that surpassed urgency.
Syril struggled to understand, but she had already moved to do the job. She crazily unbuttoned his shirt and trouser, yanking everything off in surprising blitz.
Syril watched, watched how the almighty Flamedale beauty went crazy on him, drunk with lust, a wild hunger for pleasure.
When she was done in her position—kneeling between his legs, she looked up to catch the dangerous smirk Syril wore.
She knew what it meant, and the thought of it made her pulse quicken, her body tremble, her breath ragged, her nipples harder, her pussy dampen.
"Fu-fuck, Syril!" Her voice cracked. "I wa... want you. I want you to claim me like you did in the hall. Grab my waist... and fuck me to oblivion."
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Oh, having fun already? Stay with me. This isn't over. Muahahaha!
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