brawl star gene

Towards the middle of the semester, Mrs. B. devised an assignment where we had to act out a soliloquy from any Shakespeare play. I chose Marc Antony’s “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” speech from Julius Caesar. As we had to be in costume for extra credit, I brought a flat sheet to school to fashion into a toga of sorts. There was a supply closet in the front of the room where people could change. Boys would pretend to peek in the closet when girls were changing. There wasn’t much to see for the most part, as girls might throw a long night gown over their clothes to play Juliet. The door locked on the outside when closed completely, so the few kids with major changes could do so with some privacy.

“Uh, isn’t your family—husband, kids—aren’t they there? Could be awkward.”“I took the kids to my mother’s house for the weekend. Husband…he’s off on “business”” Mrs. B took her hands off the wheel to make air quotes, “…if you call banging your co-worker business. He and I are pretty much done, just so you know.”“Oh. I’m sorry. Must be rough.”

Without thinking her mouth opened and her tongue flicked out over her knuckles, lapping at her daddy’s precum. Again, without thinking she pushed her knuckles into her mouth and sucked it all off. Her brain was once again running on pure instinct and only felt a pang of disappointment when there was nothing left. Turning her attention down again she spied another drop of precum leaking from his tip. With nothing holding her back now, Sarah leant down gracefully until her nose was right above his cock head, breathed deeply, and licked.