" Margie was the president of the senior class, the organizer of all social events. In a nutshell, she was the eye of the John Marshall High School hu...ricane. If something needed arranging, like this dance, Margie would do it. And without delegating anything, either. Margie had created the idea for the dance, booked the D.J. with orders to play nothing that didn't come from the seventies, and led the crew that decorated the gym. They'd done a great job, too. With a few pieces of cloth, they'd. At the same time, she felt tremors in her pussy. Despite the excitement of being seen fucking, she had not cum. In fact, it only increased her arousal. Her pussy was wet, and her body was vibrating like a tuning fork with her need. She was close to going back in the dorm to find her son. And if those strangers were still there and wanted to watch, so be it!That is when she saw John still sitting on the concrete bench outside the dormitory. He was sweating profusely, and his color did not look. More

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