Under the skirt of a damn fine-ass schoolgirl

She bends over to pick up her pencil—short pleated skirt hikes up, no panties, just that sweet pussy glistening. The dude in the back row’s got his hand down his pants, jaw dropped. She don’t even notice—just smirks, spins slow, lets him get a full view. He’s got a vergota bulging, muttering ‘fuck me’ under his breath. She knows. She always knows. And she ain’t stopping.