The next morning Stiles could barely look anyone in the eye. She walked through campus with her head down, cheeks permanently pink, glasses slipping down her nose. Every step reminded her of yesterday — Derek’s tongue buried deep in her virgin pussy, the way she’d squirted all over his face like a desperate whore, the taste of her own cum on his lips when he kissed her. Her fat pink pussy was still a little swollen, her huge tits still marked with faint bite prints under her clothes. She felt marked. Owned. And it terrified her… and made her drip.

First class was gym — mandatory for English majors this semester. Stiles changed in the locker room with shaking hands. She wore the tiniest gym outfit she owned because it was “cute”: a tight white sports bra that barely contained her massive tits — the fabric stretched so thin her pink nipples were faintly visible — and tiny black gym shorts that rode up her thick ass and hugged her puffy pussy like a second skin. No panties underneath today; the thong she’d grabbed was too soaked already.