Beautiful Girl Parade Fantasy

Fantasy of a Beautiful Girl Marching Team

Author: Qi Ren Word Count: 15897

Standing on the high platform, my face flushed, I clutched my skirt, listening to the buzzing sounds of amazement, praise, envy, and admiration from the students below.

"So pretty!" "Super pretty!" "Like a porcelain doll!" "So beautiful!" "So cute!" The heartfelt words of the female students, accompanied by the fiery lust and gazes of the boys, made me lower my head in embarrassment, nervously rubbing my thin mini-skirt.

After the beautiful female teacher finished speaking, it was my turn. Covering my short skirt with one hand and writing my name on the blackboard with the other, I turned around and introduced myself sweetly.

After briefly answering the students' enthusiastic questions, I was about to step down when the teacher stopped me. Taking out makeup remover pads and wet wipes from her bag, she carefully wiped away the remaining chalk dust for me.

"Oh dear... you shouldn't use chalk anymore!" the teacher said with a pained expression. "Such beautiful hands shouldn't be roughened by chalk dust..."

I'm quite tall, but to help me blend in with my classmates as quickly as possible, the teacher put me in the last place and pushed me hard. And all the related videos next to me were of me! It's only been a few hours since the competition ended...

so many people uploaded their own videos, and the most clicked videos were all of me...

I blushed and clicked on the first one, and after watching it, my face turned even redder...

This isn't a competition, it's more like a special feature on my wardrobe malfunctions...

Although I did wear safety shorts, the other team members wore boxer shorts, while mine was the most revealing and sexy, a sexy concave triangle shape like a high-waisted swimsuit...

The cut that followed the curves of my body was definitely no longer a straight triangle. It was a thin piece of fabric with curved edges, barely wider than a thong...

and because of the material and color, you could hardly tell I was wearing a thong underneath... No wonder those awful drill sergeants gave me trouble, because... my performance this morning was just so sexy... so... slutty... In the words of those netizens, I was just so... wanton...

If you only watched these deliberately edited videos, anyone would think I wasn't wearing safety shorts, right? Although I know the uploader meant well, deliberately only posting my most beautiful and alluring images, seeing all those obscene comments... I cried again...

Actually, most of the comments were positive praises. But right now, I'm just desperately looking at those particularly vulgar, 18+, most obscene, netizens' most blatant sexual fantasies about me...

They say I look so beautiful and slutty, it must be so, so incredibly pleasurable to fuck me. They say my body is so soft and elastic, it must be so pleasurable to thrust into me, and they can make me moan and gasp in all the most difficult positions.

They said I must be past my prime because I'm so pretty, but then they said I still look like one. They said I've been with so many times yet still look like a virgin, truly a man's blessing, an unparalleled allure…

I went to take a shower again. I cried while showering.

I wanted to wash away those filthy men's slander and sexual harassment…

After showering, I calmed down and changed into my nightgown.

I suddenly realized my mistake… Despite so many clicks and comments, I only seemed to see a few comments…

I immediately turned on my computer again and looked at the even more popular video.

Sure enough, the vast majority of people praised my beauty, admired my hard work and sweat in directing, and praised my excellent performance, which, despite some minor mistakes, was still worthy of a special award.

The marching band competition is definitely not just about looks and figure. If it were, there would be no need for the competition; just have the school captains line up and score it.

The saying "the head of the marching band is half the captain's" has some truth to it, but why do we still practice so desperately? Isn't it because of the uncertainty of the competition?

Admittedly, beautiful contestants have an advantage, that's undeniable. But like artistic gymnastics, rhythmic gymnastics, synchronized swimming, women's diving, figure skating, etc., the focus of the competition is the content, not the performer's appearance.

If being beautiful could win, then I could probably win a lot of gold medals in the Olympics... At least I'm very good at rhythmic gymnastics...

Seeing the sincere praise from netizens, I cried again, feeling ashamed...

I felt so sorry for them... After all, I'm leaving the marching band tomorrow...

They like me so much, support me so much, many people said they would definitely come to see me at the exhibition competition next month...

But I'm going to let them down...

Crying, crying... I fell asleep.

In my dream, we were still preparing to go on stage when my senior suddenly noticed that my safety shorts had been torn.

She said it didn't look good and might violate the rules. She immediately cut the entire safety shorts off with scissors, then took safety precautions and smiled as she saw us off.

Although I wasn't confident about my senior's safety measures, I had no choice but to bite the bullet and go ahead.

The wind in the venue was so strong, my skirt kept getting lifted up...

I was so embarrassed, wearing only a thong underneath, yet I had to try my best to direct in front of the judges... even though they were admiring my flawless buttocks... even though they were ogling my crystal-clear, tender white legs...

I wanted to hold down my skirt and tell them not to look, but with my baton twirling and my thighs raised high, I couldn't, and dared not, do that...

The sheer lace and semi-transparent thong couldn't hide my incredibly alluring vulva at all... I let the lecherous judges look... Watching, watching, letting the spectators with binoculars fantasize and lewdly observe...

The howling wind made my little hole so cold, so itchy, so... so wanting...

so wanting a man to come and reach under my extremely short skirt, gently covering me... warming me with his hot, large hands, caressing me with his burning heat... taking me away from this icy, erotic wind...

Come on... look at my thighs...

Oh, come on... come and see Jiaxuan's perky, round, white buttocks...

the marching band's crown, the captain's lewdness... the judges love unspoken rules, don't they? They love raping young girls, don't they? They love training virgins like Jiaxuan, don't they?

I promised my senior that I would help the school win another championship...

If sleeping with someone can win a championship, then the judges should come and hug me...

one by one, don't fight over me... Jiaxuan can satisfy all of you...

The dream competition ended in an instant, and the scene changed to the VIP box of the conference.

The so-called "safety measures" my senior colleague took out were just making me wear two thongs.

The outer one served as my safety shorts, and the inner one as my underwear.

The judges and instructors unanimously approved, believing I hadn't broken any rules.

As long as I could sleep with them.

There weren't any beds here… I said shyly, "Where are you taking me to bed?" "

The sky is the house, the ground is the bed!" they said.

Watching the band and flag team during the competition, I was gang-raped by them while leaning against the window of the VIP box.

They made me feel so good, so happy, so blissful… because I knew I could win another championship for the school and keep my promise to my senior.

They also made me feel so much pain, so much discomfort… because they were so rough, so direct, no foreplay at all, just relentlessly thrusting…

When I went on stage to receive the award that evening, I was completely naked under my incredibly sexy short marching skirt.

I had to clench my fists tightly to prevent the large amount of semen inside my uterus from leaking out.

Receiving the special award from the conductor, I smiled and waved to the stands, thanking the audience for their enthusiastic applause…

A gust of wind blew, lifting the hem of my short, pleated skirt…

Mom! That pretty older sister wasn't wearing underwear!

My hateful yet adorable little brother, his childlike and clear cry, carried on the erotic breeze of his caresses, echoed throughout every corner of the event.

[The End]

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