A new student

It’s the first day of school, and you’re jittery in your seat as your form teacher, Mrs Nelson, approaches the whiteboard. What if no one likes you? What if you’ve got no friends, or flunk each and every test? You drum your hands on the desk, trying to pretend as if the rest of the class isn’t looking at you. The rational side of your brain tells you that it’s because you’re the only person in the room buck-naked, and your cock is rock hard and sticking into the air. But all the same you can’t get that nervousness away.

“Jack Worthing! Are you even listening to me?”

You jump at the mention of your name. It’s Mrs Nelson beckoning you to come to the front of the class.

“Yes Ma’am, sorry. I was just distracted for a bit.”

“Come up to the front!”

She glares at you. The corner of her mouth is turned a little upwards, and there’s a little bit of a hard edge to her eyes. You can’t figure out if she was making fun of you or actually pissed. You decide to play it safe. Pushing the chair aside, you get to your feet and pause behind the back of the chair. You can feel your cheeks burning underneath the gaze of a whole class of sexy eighteen year old teens. It’s not easy to even walk straight when your heart is throbbing like this, and as you turn towards the front of the room where Mrs Nelson is, you trip around the legs of your desk and plummet forward.

A high-pitched yelp escapes from your mouth as you reach out to break the fall, but to your surprise, you land on something soft. When you figure out what has happened, your whole face turns scarlet. What’s happened is that you’ve landed yourself in the lap of an equally flustered looking girl, a pretty brunette with a freckled face. You spring upwards, and then realise that to lift yourself up, you’ve somehow managed to grab both of her fairly developed tits through the thin fabric of the mandated white singlet she’s wearing.

“Oh! Sorry!” you blurt as you finally make it up.

A quiet wave of laughter ripples through the class, and you don’t quite dare to look up the whole painful trek to where Mrs Nelson is standing.

“Men!” she sighs. “You lot never manage to do anything properly, do you? Think that just because you have Aura’s disease, you’re entitled to tromp around school not looking at where you’re looking like a pig that’s smelled food. All of you! Now if I were the principal of this place I’d jolly well put all of you in a building, or a sty, or something, and just make you jerk yourselves off all day. Look at me!”