Picture this: A young, sexy English teacher named Syd. She has short brunette hair, medium-size breasts,and an absolutely stunning slim physique, the latter of which is put on display in her usual outfit: A tight shirt, short skirt, striped panties, and boots with 2-inch heels. She’s the perfect specimen.
“I need to talk to you about something I’ve noticed recently,” says Syd, with a slight grin on her face.
“Fuck, she knows I’ve been sneaking looks under her skirt,” you realize.
“You left your notebook in class the other day… You’re a real artist,” she says.
“You saw the drawings?” you wonder, thinking about how fucked you are.
“No. The words. You’re a literary artist. I noticed it when you wrote that essay on the Red Light District. The way you… described it… it turned me on. Come with me; I’ve got something I want to show you.”
“What the fuck? I’m not in trouble?” you think. You’re in complete and utter shock at what she’s said, but intrigued.
Under her desk
Youʼre kissing; breathing heavily in anticipation of whatʼs to come. She takes off her shirt