Mr. Jones, and his sex ed class

Mr. Jones was Anna's biology teacher, and he had also taught her sex ed class last year, like he does every year. In his early thirties, he was pretty good looking, though he dressed rather conservatively and was known for his no-nonsense attitude. It was hard to exploit that with jokes or pranks, as it was usually almost impossible to break his composure.

And now, this teacher was milliseconds away from seeing her. All of her. In a very intimate moment.

"...this room hasn't been used for months, so it'll be quite dusty, but I already moved the material here, so it'll have to-"

He froze. A naked girl was crouching on his desk, and inside her was what looked like a...

"Woah, what the fuck?!" That wasn't Mr. Jones. That was one of the first students that entered the room just behind him; a boy. He was now also staring at Anna's naked body, and what was going on between her legs.

It would have been high time for Anna to make her exit, but she found that she was unable to move. Her arousal, causing her muscles to feel like putty, didn't magically go away, and mixed with the shock of being seen, it was impossible to stand up, let alone reach the door.

Meanwhile, ever more students streamed into the room. The only upside was that they stopped moving as soon as they saw her, hindering the people behind them. Still, at least ten people had line of sight before the doorway was blocked.

Ten people, plus the teacher. Looking directly at her naked body. Her breasts, her ass. Her womanhood, filled up and dripping.

It was Mr. Jones who broke the silence. His face was red, redder than Anna had ever seen, though not as red as Anna must have been herself by now. He somehow managed to speak without stuttering, and minimal wavering in his voice:

"Oh, I had... forgotten that that was today! Let's just go in there to go over the specifics again." His class he instructed: "You guys just take a seat, open your textbooks and keep quiet. I'll begin class shortly."

Then, he grabbed the mortified Anna's wrist, and gestured impatiently in the direction of the storage room. When she didn't move, he pulled a little, almost causing her to fall over. Clumsily, she climbed down from the desk, and tried to follow him. Being filled up as she was, it was more of an awkward waddle than a walk.

That is, until the dildo slipped out. This happened so suddenly and quickly that it made her gasp out loud. It bounced a little as it landed on the floor, and sprayed some of her sticky juices around on the floor. Anna was sure that everyone had payed close attention to that, but she couldn't verify it, as she was dragged into the storage room before she could turn around again. Not that she wanted to give them another full frontal.

Alone with Mr. Jones in the storage room, still only dimly lit by the single lightbulb, Anna was still in too much of a daze to properly realize what had just happened. Consequently, she didn't even think to cover up before her teacher.

"Anna!" he hissed. "Do I even want to know what this... this... display is supposed to be?"

At the word display, Anna's mind woke up, at least a little. Slowly, her hands went to cover her chest and privates. She looked down on the floor, silent. What was she supposed to tell him? There was no excuse.

"I was asking you if you have an explanation. This isn't exactly an everyday occurence. Not like one of the pranks I've come to expect from some students."

"I...u-uhm... i-it was..." It was hard to form a thought, even harder to form sentences. Her mind was still cloudy from something. She could feel it in the hand that was shielding her crotch: still wet, sopping wet. Still radiating heat.

"Were you ****? Blackmailed, ****? Was this done to you against your will?"

Anna was bad at lying. Especially right now. "N-no...", she managed, gingerly.

"Well that's just great", Mr. Jones exclaimed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "A pervert of her own free will. On school grounds. During lessons. Skipping class! Do you know how fast you can get expelled for that? Or even get reported to the police? It could very well be your first criminal offense! Are you eighteen?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Marvelous. So you can be held accountable. Do you even know how much trouble you're in?"

Again, she stared at the floor tiles. There was no good answer.
"P-please... don't call the police... and I don't want to get expelled... i-isn't there any other way...?"

Mr. Jefferson sighed.
"Fortunately for you, there is a way to avoid those consequences. One way. I already put the plan in motion, even. But I don't think you are going to like it.