Angel screamed again.

Her girlish facial expression contorted into a very adult-looking grimace of unbridled sexual ecstasy. Angel’s almond eyes were squeezed shut with her brows pulled inward and turned up, as her head turned sharply from side to side. The violent movement whipped her straight shoulder-length brunette hair, fanning it out in all directions. Angel's  petite body writhed, as well. Once again wracked with pleasure, her stunning form shook and twisted through yet another all consuming climax. There seemed to be no limit to the girl’s capacity to cum. However, the intensity of this current seizure outpaced all of the others she had experienced in the past hour.

An orgasm can do extraordinary things to a young girl's appearance. It is capable of wiping an everyday, reserved and otherwise modestly shy demeanor away, allowing  something primal, extremly wild to surface. If experienced intensely enough, it can rip the mask of innocence within an instant, revealing a stressed, almost painfully-felt eroticism in expression. It has been noted that there exists a fine  line between the sensations of extreme pleasure and pain. This was, in fact, what Angel's face and body were communicating at that moment.

That's not all an orgasm can do to a girl's appearance. If aided by an over-aroused accomplice during an illicit sexual encounter, it could further transform her look in the most astonishingly erotic ways. Thanks to the induced orgasms shot forth from her delirious, frantic male partner, Angel’s teenage face projected the very image of lewd, salacious sex. Set in an anguished frown carved by the ongoing climax she was now experiencing, her features—painted and glazed as they were with multiple loads of sperm—positively glowed under the office lights.

As the high school senior cheerleader captain's supple body quivered uncontrollably through this latest lustful convulsion, the wet offerings from her vice-principal’s numerous ejaculations—clumped, multi-layered splotches and elongated streaks thickly coating the girl’s sweat glistening skin—were in motion on her upturned face. Gravity had begun to force some of the more voluminous dollops of semen to stream down in what looked like riverss. At times, globs of the immorally applied fluid would slip off her nose, lips and cheeks, plopping down onto her partially-opened white blouse, further soiling the fabric. Some of it dangled in pearl-like strands from one of Angel’s hoop earrings. As she shook her head in ecstasy, the strands swayed obscenely. The sloppy drips cascaded from her and were becoming elongated, eventually stretching down onto her shoulder. Several streams ran down her tapered neck. While other elastic drips snapped free from her chin, the drops falling upon the folds of her hurriedly yanked up skirt.

The older man responsible for Angel’s present condition—St. Catherine’s High School vice-principal, was none other than me, Mr. George T. Jetsum —knelt on the floor between her legs, mashing my face into her exposed vagina. Normally cool and  collected, I was crazed, and was indeed being driven mad with aphrodisia for this petite dark haired tart. My tongue furrowing deep within the opened folds of this stunning young cheerleader.

Angel’s pelvis gyrated wildly on Jetsum’s office chair in heated response to the sensation, while her hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly for support. My knees moved outward on the floor, pressing against her feet in an effort to get Angel to spread her legs even farther apart. In her delirium, the quivering girl accommodated me, widening the distance between her knees. She opened her legs even more, sliding her tender body forward. As she did so, her shoulders and head slipped down on the back of the seat, while she also impatiently shoved her wet sex back against my face.

The black and white saddle shoes Angel wore scuffed noisily on the tile floor when she moved her buttocks forward on the seat. Her proper uniform skirt bunched higher up around her waist during the adjustment. Angel’s pale blue panties were heaped down at the base of her right leg and were now draped haphazardly around her shoe. Removed in a hurry by this overly-excited horny Administrator, the student had only managed to pull her left foot free from the dainty garment before I forced her legs apart and rammed my tongue into her hole.

Angel’s pert breasts strained desperately against the restraining uniform blouse she wore. During the impetuous attack on her exposed flesh, the cotton material was being pulled taut across her chest, as the remaining closed buttons on the half-open garment struggled to hold fast against the thrust of Angel’s protruding orbs. This was made worse when I began rapidly flicking the tip of my tongue against the girl’s swollen clit. It caused the eighteen year-old student to gasp in sharper breaths, and made her cry his name in shameless pleasure during the exhales, as she squirmed violently on my office chair.

Throughout this entire episode of immoral debauchery, Angel's moans, squeals, and screams of sexual release had been almost constant. They filled the modest office with sounds unlike anything ever heard in that space. I wasn't that silent either, growling and grunting loudly during several body-wrenching ejaculations—ejaculations being coaxed out of  my cock by this beguiling, seductive creature in front of him. I had been concerned about the decibel levels of our combined lust-choked screams five minutes earlier. A pang of worry went through my thoughts while I was obliging the enticing student's begging request for me to shoot my second load of sperm all over her screaming face.

Continuing to pleasure the girl orally, my mind began to wander. I started to question the sound-proofing capabilities of the windows, the walls and especially the thick wooden door to my office.

Can this be heard in the hall, or outside in the park ? A shiver of fear running through me.

After all, it was practically the middle of the school day. There had been plenty of activity taking place in the corridors and outside in the park below my office. A lot of people were busily scurrying from here to there.

At least we’re still dressed, I schemed. Aside from my cum being smeared all over her face, we could jump up and adjust ourselves the second we heard the door, and everything would look normal…well, somewhat normal, I guess ?

It was true; both of  us were indeed, still fully dressed. Sure, Angel’s thin skirt was pulled up and bunched around her waist. Her white cotton blouse was partially unbuttoned, and her panties were half off, pulled down and draped around her shoe. However, aside from appearing a bit disheveled from the sex, to me, she looked close enough to being “pulled together.” She still wore all the peripheral items of her school uniform. Yes, it was also true her hair was a bit mussed, and was thickly coated with semen. Nevertheless, I reckoned, all of that could easily be rectified posthaste if they were focused and clever enough. Her face could be wiped, and her appearance smoothed in no time.

I too was also fully clothed. I still had on my white shirt. It was buttoned properly and the red tie still hung neatly from the clean knot between the collars. My trousers were still fastened under the belt and of course, the fly was wide open, and my wet erection was sticking straight out from the opening. But I thought I would be able to stow it away pretty quickly if someone knocked. Yes, in all reasoning, all of this could be set right fairly quickly.

Besides, the door is locked securely. I’d have to open it to let anyone in. That would give us ample time to collect ourselves.

Unfortunately, Vice-Principal Jetsum had completely overlooked one important thing. I had forgotten about the rather large stain on my pants at the crotch, a stain caused by the teasing manipulations of the young student’s hand at the beginning of this promiscuous episode. It never entered into the planning. The unsightly dark stain was a tell-tale forgotten ‘loose end’ which would be my epic failing the very minute I opened the door to let anyone into the office. But mindless of this fact, I continued the logical progression within my fevered brain, mapping out more possible strategies.

However, his thoughts kept returning to the noise. People might be able to hear this outside, and begin to suspect what I’m doing in here, he continued. Then where would I be ?

Yes, in the vice-principal’s mind, being caught would result in a scandal of immense proportions, recovery from which would not be possible. A forced resignation would surely ensue; a long, steady career would almost instantly go down in flames. Shame and ridicule would be at my doorstep. My reputation in the community would be blown to bits. My marriage would lay in ruins, with my family despising me. This would surely dog me for the rest of my natural life, making it utterly impossible to return to any semblance of normalcy.

Dashed hopes and good intentions…Good, better, best…bested, I thought, a line from Edward Albee’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf” popping into my mind at that point for some reason.

Who’s afraid ? I questioned. I am! I am, George ! I replied.

Still, even through my concerns and despite all of the possible horrific consequences, I couldn’t stop myself. I had given in to the temptation forty-five minutes before; diving head first into the lust, as a matter of fact. And now there seemed to be no way of stopping.

So, I continued eating Angel's Pussy, blubbering and moaning my passion into her sexhole. My cock—its length steadily growing as it stiffened up again—stuck obscenely out from the opened zipper of  trousers, the head still dripping the remnants of my last ejaculation. It formed a wet spot on the floor between the sexy student’s spread feet. And Angel’s wet seepage added to the indecent puddle’s size. Her pussy had been squirting against my face, with the spray also drenching the inside of her thighs. The fluid now dripped to the floor in strands from the edge of the leather seat, as the tip of the vice-principal’s red tie dipped repeatedly into the growing puddle of mixed secretions.

No. There was no way of stopping. The vice-principal was too far gone. However, once again, his thoughts returned to the sounds of sex filling his office. Yes, I had noticed the school bell ringing once, and tried to remember if their earlier mutual screams and bellows of ecstasy came before or after the bell had sounded. Either way would be bad, I surmised, if the door and the thick block walls weren't strong sound insulators.

So, when Angel started to cum again, building toward another inevitable piercing cry,I shuddered. Motivated by my mounting concern over being caught, I reached up and clamped my left hand over Angel's sticky lips. Unfortunately, some of the my previously spent loads streamed down off of Angel’s nose and cheeks and ran onto my hand. With her screams momentarily stifled, she closed her eyes tight, and began to snort passionately through her nose, surrendering completely to the bliss provided by my tongue and lips.

In time, Angel’s contractions started to subside, and a steadier breathing pattern fell into place. With her half-closed eyes softening, she looked down upon the me with a sedate smile spreading on her lips under my clamped hand. Still lovingly running my tongue along the folds of her vulva, kissing it tenderly, I looked up into her eyes which were drenched in her sweet secretions, my face shone brightly in the office light. With Angel momentarily quiet, I took my hand, now wet from my own sperm, off her face, and brought it down to rest on her pussy. My fingers spread her labium, and I began to manually stimulate her towards another intense climax.

After her last orgasm diminished, Angel’s head cleared enough for her to collect her thoughts. It was then she decided that the time had come to take this situation to another extreme. It was time to light a fire. What was to happen next ?