Even as they're written

Stacy scribbled haphazardly across the board. She'd pretty much forgotten what she was even supposed to be writing… Not that it mattered… Her ‘detention supervisor’ clearly had other things on his mind. She felt his swollen stiffness raking up her skirt at the back… Was that the feel of actual flesh brushing against the skin around her underwear? Had he really gained enough confidence to just unzip and have at her?

The girl had no idea how Mr Chambers had managed to wrangle it… One after-school detention a week for a month, each one under his own ‘personal one-to-one guidance’. It made Stacy furious that the school would allow such a thing! What if it had been someone else who'd been landed with this pervert? Someone vulnerable?! Familiar shivers crawled their way up her spine as her tactile senses confirmed that: Yes, that was definitely an unsheathed penis rubbing itself against her cotton panties. She gave a pouting push backward with her hips. Still pretending to be enthralled by her task, of course, but secretly hoping she might be able to give the old creep a carpet burn by the end of this.

To be fair she was furious at the world in general at the moment. She had been doled out this ridiculous level of punishment just yesterday. All because she had completely forgotten some idiotic order to organise herself a one-day-a-week work-experience placement over the next three months. Apparently they had been reminded over and over that this was expected of them, but Stacy guessed she’d been a little too… distracted... recently, to think about it. The first she’d realised the date was approaching was when she’d been sandwiched between Mark and Peter last weekend. The pair had been discussing their own upcoming placements while alternating thrusts between her pussy and rectum. Which made her grumpy at them, as well. She got that they felt a bit awkward being so close to each other while fucking her from all angles, and liked to talk about other things to distract from that... but it seemed like she had just become the water cooler for them to discuss scheduling conflicts around. She was usually too overburdened by the plethora of feelings they were drilling into her to do more than listen and punctuate the dialogue with moans. Yet the one time they could have been of interest and use to her came FAR too late. She got the nagging feeling that they were becoming overly used to her being an always-available fuckbag and were forgetting to think of her as an absent-minded friend as well.

Still, maybe not having her warm, wet holes available once or twice a week would teach them a lesson there: The absolute worst part about all this was that she was still expected to find a work placement, and sooner rather than later, with the threat being that if not: these detentions would translate into being a full-time ‘teaching support assistant’ for Mr. Chambers, while everyone else got a chance to get AWAY from school for a change. Stacy let the feeling of his slightly-weeping helmet swirling across her buttocks seep in, and tried to imagine a 9 to 5 of being at this man’s beck and call… She wouldn’t have to wear uniform, but would he get to choose her dress code? Could he demand she parade about in his classes dressed in something embarrassing and skimpy? Continually drop things in front of rows of her fellow students and demand that she bend over and pick them up? Get her to stand stock still as a living model for examples and use that ridiculous metal pointer of his to prod and poke her? Okay… so the answer to most of those was probably a resounding ‘No.’, but the schoolgirl felt her heart flutter a little at just the thought. She utterly despised how indecently excited she got about these appalling daydreams of hers. Why was she letting him get away with this?!

The answer came as she felt the all-too-familiar shape of a cock slip between her thighs. Whether that was by accident or decision, she did not know. However her body automatically reacted by sliding one ankle behind the other, crossing her legs so that the offending shaft was pinched up close against her panties’ moistening gusset. She leaned in close to the board as if concentrating on writing or drawing something intricate and felt his hands descend to her hips. The tight triangle of flesh and cotton she had made for him must have driven the man delirious, he seemed to lose all track of falsified decorum and simply started thrusting like a dog in heat. The experience was incredible, a furiously teasing dry-hump of secondhand masturbation. Her pussy ached and begged for him to just pull that thin line of material aside, and finish the job properly! …Several times she was sure he was about to… yet he never did. Surely he couldn’t still believe she didn’t know what was happening? Stacy thought, even as she felt him buck his last heaves against her and watched a sad few, wasted trails of semen splatter against the classroom flooring. Yet, when she stood up bright red-faced and brushing her skirt down; the distinct sound of a zipper closing was all she heard. The schoolgirl turned to look at her least-favourite teacher expectantly and he just glanced at his watch exhaustedly.

“That’ll do Miss Lee… you’re dismissed. Same time next week, remember.”

Stacy nodded and collected her bag. Same time next week.