Continued

"Animalistic?" You reply.

"...Problematic." He says. Hurriedly redressing.

He throws you your clothes.

"I think... you need to get out of my office." He adds, with an air of uncertainty in his voice.

You silently redress. While you're aware, at least on the surface, that you've put both Michelle and this poor gym teacher in difficult situation, the thought of his cock slipping into your teenage pussy persuasively guides your decision-making.

You turn to leave, but before you do you ask for his cell phone number. The gym teacher flashes you a reproachful glance, but inevitably reaches for a pen and paper. He quickly scribbles his digits on a scrap of paper and places it your hand.

"Please don't text me during weeknights. My wife cannot see them.

Before turning to leave you caress his clothed groin.

"Whatever you say."

You leave the nervousness of the gym teacher behind you and reenter the school hallway: cum dripping from your pussy, hair amused. If you're going to meet Michelle's boyfriend, a shower is must.