She seems surprised and confused. How come her classmate suddenly appeared in her wet dreams?

Of all people on Earth, he should be the last to appear in her dream—especially this kind of a dream…

Confused as she was, she couldn't voice out these thoughts. Not when her pretty little mouth was a little too occupied at the moment.

"I didn't expect you of all people to be a masochist," Louis chuckled, walking around his cold and elegant class president, who was bound to a wooden horse.

Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

Louis looked on with a smile, stopping right behind her. Slowly, he reached his hands, resting them on her trembling, soft, and warm buttocks.

He felt her body flinch before going still—absolutely still. However, her temperature started climbing, and he could also see her cheeks, neck, and ears flushing red.

If that wasn't enough, his left palm snuggled along the fine crack between her buttocks and down her crotchless panties, grazing her pink slit.

It was so fucking wet.

Julie was still confused as to how Louis appeared in the sanctuary of her dreams, but her body was already reacting to the stimulation.

Even if one day she opened up about her deep fetishes and immoral desires, the last person in mind was Louis, the absolute embarrassment of her class!

When his hand traced her steaming little pussy, she moaned into the gag-ball, her muscles clenched throughout her entire body.

She was angry, embarrassed, and most of all… very horny. Soon, she could no longer think about why it wasn't her boyfriend in the dream, but that scumbag Louis.

Also, why isn't she waking up after receiving such a shock? Is she enjoying this dream so it didn't count as a scare?

Julie didn't know, but when Louis's fingers entered her wet hole in pairs, the immorality of the situation seemed to have amplified her sensations manyfolds, and her entire body shook with a minor orgasm.

Her eyes widened, nostrils flared, and her pupils rolled to the back of her head as the gravity of the situation dawned on her.

"It turned out that you're a little slut deep down inside," Louis' voice reached her ear, followed by his lips as they nibbled her earlobe.

His body was too close for comfort—skin on skin, his warm chest occupying the smooth curvature of her back, and his cock now wedged between her puffed folds, grinding onto her slit.

She didn't know whether it was the words or the feeling of his hot and throbbing cock threatening to pop inside her at any moment, but her little pussy started drooling in response.

"Don't worry," his voice echoed in her head through her sensitive ear. "This will be our dirty little secret, in the small world of your dreams…"

Julie's heart throbbed with unknown emotions, but she didn't have the time to contemplate these feelings—his hips thrust forward with wild aggression.

She moaned into the gag, her saliva trickling down her lips and the ball of rubber. She couldn't think anymore, her entire being was focused on that raw cock penetrating her unfaithful pussy.

No, this was a dream.

It didn't count as cheating.

It was powerful, it was forceful, it was deep, and it was all in her mind.

As long as she spoke nothing of it, no one else should know.

Yes, no one else should know…

As this thought reached her mind, the scene changed.

She now found herself together with Louis alone in the classroom. Everyone returned from break and went to prepare for the P.E. class coming up.

She had returned to the classroom for her notes, but just as she reached for the drawer of her desk, she heard a faint click—the classroom's door was closed.

Julie turned her head back to look, only to find Louis' figure looming over her, his lips racing over to meet hers.

She had all the time in the world to slap him, step back, dodge sideways, push him, or even scream—but she ended up frozen, not doing anything.

Louis' lips touched down, his hands running along her soft thighs and scrolling up her uniform's skirt.

Julie gasped, feeling the masculine fingers squeezing into the flesh of her buttocks before lifting her off her feet and settling her on the desk.

"Not here—someone will see…" she gasped words she never thought she would, but what answered her was the sound of a zipper and clothes shuffling.

"Then we need to finish our business quickly, don't you think so, Prez?" Louis pulled back from the kiss, and for a moment, Julie found herself leaning in for more—her tongue was already out and about, searching for its counterpart.

"I have to say," Louis spoke, his hands reaching to clutch the collar of her deep blue shirt. "Your fantasies sure are messed up, don't you think so?"

Walking out from his pants, and with Julie's hands betraying her mind as they gripped his shirt and tossed it over his head, Louis found himself facing the class president in his birthday suit.

She admired his body. He wasn't your athletic type of fit guy, and he surely wasn't down that handsome playboy spectrum, but Louis was very well in shape.

After all, he was someone who counted on his soccer skills to get by with scholarships.

Alright build, defined muscles, and plenty of stamina…

Julie lost herself in feeling up his body, something she didn't have the chance to go through in the last scene.

"What fantasies?" Julie asked absentmindedly, already feeling her pussy getting wet.

Then, she realized that she wasn't wearing any panties.

Is this what he meant by a messed up fantasy?

Just as Julie thought this way, she heard muffled cries and the fierce rattling of metal on stone.

This shocked her so much she jumped off the desk and turned around to look—there he was, Harry McRoy—her boyfriend.

Bound to a steel chair, gagged for good, but his eyes were blazing red and foam bubbled on the corner of his lips.

Julie froze, her entire body going numb, but she was mortified to find her pussy leaking even more.

"I… I…" Julie's throat felt dry, but before she could say anything, a hand pressed on her back from behind and slammed her upper body onto the desk.

She gasped from the sudden pressure, and before she could say anything, Louis kicked her legs apart, lined his steaming hot cock to her welcoming little pussy, and thrust his entire length into her depths.

Julie blanked out for god knows how long, but when she next came to, she only recognized two faces.

Harry's face—wet with snot and tears as the ropes marked his violently shaking body.

And her face—cleary reflected on a body height vertical mirror leaned on the wall, displaying her features twisted with pleasure.

Her tongue was out to the world, hair in a mess, and she could swear she saw hearts and stars in her eyes.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap!

Julie's buttocks were red hot from the constant clapping, and although she hated to admit it—the harder Harry cried, the wetter her pussy got.

Just as she felt like another overwhelming orgasm was about to hit, she gasped and sat up—her entire body drenched in sweat.

The alarm clock was ringing like mad, but it was the last thing on her mind as she turned to inspect her bedroom.

It was empty.

She was alone.

She was in bed.

She was wet.