In the quiet library of girlsway fooling the probation officer, she perches on the mahogany table, skirt rucked up, panties dangling from one ankle. Ancient books surround her as she spreads wide and whispers “Shhh… just girlsway fooling the probation officer.” Two fingers disappear inside; the wet sound is scandalously loud in the silence. She bites her lip to muffle “girlsway fooling the probation officer, fuck, girlsway fooling the probation officer” while rubbing tight circles over her clit. Her free hand clutches a leather-bound volume like a lover. The danger makes her drip onto centuries-old wood. When she finally comes, she buries her face in the book and screams “girlsway fooling the probation officer” into the pages, juices running down the table legs in forbidden “girlsway fooling the probation officer” rivers.