Playing with the teacher

Mrs. Taylor positions herself in front of the small end of the vaulting box, her long toned legs slightly apart, the fabric of her shorts clinging to the curve of her thighs. She arches her back, pushing her chest out and leaning over the box, her arms stretching along the top. Her blouse rises slightly, giving you a tantalizing view of her lower back, the smooth skin just above the waistband of her shorts. Some more ropes are laid out on the floor beside her, a silent invitation.

"David," she says, "could you tie the two ropes on the far end of the box, and make sure they're long enough to secure my wrists?" You nod, your eyes drawn to her wrists. The idea of tying her up sends a bolt of electricity straight to your crotch.

With trembling hands, you knot the ropes around the sturdy wooden handles on the far end of the vaulting box. You lift the ropes over the top of the box and walk towards her. She looks up at you, her blue eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement. She extends her arms, her wrists delicate and ****. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the bulge growing in your pants. This isn't what you expected when you signed up to help with the biology lesson.

You lean over her, the scent of her sweet perfume filling your nostrils as you place the ropes around her wrists. She gasps slightly as the rough fabric touches her skin, and you can't help but wonder if she's enjoying this as much as you are. You tie the knots tight, but not too tight, making sure she won't get hurt. As you work, you can't help but notice the way her blouse has ridden up, exposing the soft curve of her lower back.

"Good," she says, her voice a little shakier than before. "Now, Liam, can you grab the mirror from the storage room?" You watch as he obliges, his expression a mix of curiosity and confusion. He returns with a large, full-body mirror on castors.

Mrs. Taylor nods at him, her eyes never leaving yours. "Thanks, Liam. Now, could you position it right here?" She points to a spot one meter away from the vaulting box. "Make sure it's angled so I can see everything that's happening to me."

He sets the mirror down, and you can see the reflection of Mrs. Taylor's bound wrists in the polished glass. She's completely ****, her back arched and her body open for whatever comes next. You're acutely aware of the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the sports hall, and how anyone walking by could catch a glimpse of the scene unfolding. The sun streams in, casting a warm glow over Mrs. Taylor's body, highlighting the curves of her hips.

The room is eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. You can't shake the feeling that you're being watched, that the secret you've been carrying around about Larissa's wild night is about to spill out into the open. But right now, it's just you, Liam, and Mrs. Taylor, and the promise of something dark and exciting.

Mrs. Taylor's blouse rises even further as she leans further forward over the box, now standing on her toes and exposing a sliver of her firm, round buttocks. You can see the goosebumps on her skin. The ropes around her wrists are tight. She's at your mercy, and the thrill of it sends a jolt of energy through you.

"Alright, David," she says, her eyes locked with yours in the mirror. "I need you to finish the preparations. Could you unbutton my blouse from behind?" The words hang in the air, and for a moment, you're frozen, unsure if you heard her correctly. But she nods, confirming your suspicion, a small smirk playing on her lips.

You step behind her, your heart racing. Your hands hover over the buttons, the fabric of her blouse warm and smooth. You take a deep breath and begin to unbutton them, one by one. As each button pops open, more of her pale, creamy skin is revealed, the lacy bra she's wearing doing little to hide her full breasts.

When you reach the last button, you gently push up the fabric of her blouse on the back. The elastic waistband of her white shorts comes into view. "Could you also remove these, please?" she asks, her voice a seductive whisper. You nod, your hands shaking with excitement. You kneel down behind her, feeling the heat from her body. You hook your thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pull them down, revealing her perfectly shaped ass cheeks, barely covered by a thin strip of fabric.

Her g-string is a tiny scrap of material, the same shade as her skin. You can see the faint outline of her pussy lips pressing against it. The anticipation in the room is almost tangible. Mrs. Taylor wiggles her hips slightly, urging you on. You grasp the fabric and tug it down, feeling the warmth of her skin as it slides over her hips and thighs. She lifts herself slightly to allow the shorts to slide down to her ankles.

You stand up and she steps out of them, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. She's now in her open blouse, her bra and the flimsy g-string, her bare feet on the cold, hard floor. The room seems to shrink around you, the air thick with sexual tension. The only sound is your own breathing, loud in the silence.

"Alright, David," she says, her voice a low purr. "You've done well. Now, the lesson will begin shortly. I left a note on the door of the biology classroom to ensure the others will come to the sports hall, too."

Your heart drops to the floor as you realize what she's saying. The whole class will see her like this, and there's no way to back out now. The door swings open, and ten other students spill into the hall, their eyes immediately drawn to the unusual setup. You see the shock and confusion etched on their faces as they spot Mrs. Taylor, bound and exposed.

Larissa is at the front, her jaw dropping open. You can see the color drain from her face, her eyes wide with horror and something else—excitement? Her gaze darts to the ropes and then to you, and you know she's putting the pieces together. The other students murmur, some snickering, others looking away, embarrassed. Two of them, Rachel and Mark, are carrying boxes with the word "toys" on them, and they look equally stunned by the sight before them.

Mrs. Taylor takes a deep breath, her breasts rising and falling. "Class," she says, her voice steady, "today is our first lesson on human anatomy. I've chosen a... practical approach." She pauses, letting the words sink in. "Everyone of you will be in a situation like me very soon."

The room goes still, the students' eyes darting between you, Liam, and their bound teacher. Larissa's cheeks are a deep shade of red, her gaze flicking from Mrs. Taylor to you. Rachel and Mark exchange a knowing look, their eyes lingering on the ropes and the discarded clothes.

Mrs. Taylor continues, her voice firm, "In one of the boxes you'll find cards with various sexual kinks and fetishes. This is an interactive lesson, and everyone will participate. We'll go through the kinky cards in alphabetical order."

The students murmur, their curiosity piqued despite the unorthodox setup. Rachel opens one of the boxes and pulls out the first card. She reads it, her eyes widening. "Alright, Mrs. Taylor," she says, her voice shaking slightly, "the first card is 'Anal Play'."

Mrs. Taylor nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Very good," she says, her voice carrying an air of confidence despite her **** position. "To give you an easy start, I thought I would be the first one to volunteer." She glances back over her shoulder, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror. "And as you can see, I'm nearly bare-assed on this box. So what are you waiting for?"

You can feel the tension in the room as Rachel opens the box and pulls out a set of butt plugs in various sizes, a bottle of lubricant, and a pair of gloves. The sight sends a wave of excitement through you, and you can't help but wonder if Mrs. Taylor has done this before. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the bulge in your pants.

"Alright," Mrs. Taylor says, her eyes still on you. "Since I'm already in a state of undress, it seems only fair that the rest of you should join me. Before we continue with the anal play, you will undress each other successively so that the others can watch. David and Larissa, why don't you start? You can help each other out."

Larissa's eyes widen in horror, and she takes a step back, pressing her arms tightly against her sides. Her cheeks are a deep shade of crimson, and her chest is heaving with panic. You can see the goosebumps on her arms. She shakes her head frantically, her blonde hair flying around her face. "No," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Please, not like this."

You move closer, trying to soothe her. "It's okay," you murmur, your voice low and calming. "It's just part of the lesson." But deep down, you know it's more than that. You've been dreaming of this moment for so long, and now it's finally happening. You can't resist the urge to reach out and touch her, but she flinches away from you.

Her eyes are wide with fear and embarrassment, but there's something else there, too — a spark of excitement that sends your heart racing. You take a deep breath and step around the vaulting box, placing Larissa gently in front of the windows. The sun casts a warm glow over her, highlighting her slim frame.

You grip her arms firmly, feeling the softness of her flesh beneath your fingertips. She tries to pull away, her breath coming in short gasps, but your hold is unyielding. You can see the struggle in her eyes, the desire to cover up warring with the thrill of being so exposed. "D-David," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't do this."

The fear in her voice sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but tighten your grip, pushing her closer to the windows. The glass is cold and unforgiving, reflecting her distressed expression back at you. Her shirt is clinging to her body. You start to lift it, inch by inch, revealing the soft, pale skin of her stomach. She tries to squirm away, but your grip is firm.

You watch as her half covered breasts come into view, the lacy cups of her bra doing little to hide her erect nipples. The room goes quiet, all eyes on you and Larissa. You can feel the heat of their gazes, the anticipation building. You pull her shirt up over her head, tossing it aside.

Larissa's skirt is next. You grasp the waistband and slowly pull it down, feeling the softness of her skin as it slides over her hips. She tries to resist, but your firm grip is relentless. The fabric whispers against her thighs, revealing the matching white g-string she's wearing. You can see the outline of her pussy, the fabric barely concealing her arousal.

The class gasps collectively as Larissa is left in only her skimpy lingerie. The sight of Larissa, usually so put together and proper, standing half-nude in front of everyone is nothing short of mesmerizing. You can see the hunger in their eyes, the desire to see more. Rachel and Mark exchange a knowing glance, their smirks growing wider.

"Now, it's Larissa's turn," Mrs. Taylor says, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "David, I want you to stand in front of the class." You do as you're told, feeling the eyes of your classmates on you as you stand there.

Larissa's hands are shaking as she steps forward, her cheeks still a deep red. She reaches for the hem of your shirt, her fingers trembling.

Her touch is feather-light as she lifts the fabric over your head, exposing your bare chest to the room. The cool air prickles your skin, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. You can see the mix of fear and excitement in her eyes as she takes in your body, the way your muscles tense and your nipples harden from the sudden exposure.

Larissa's eyes flicker down to your crotch, where the bulge in your jeans is now impossible to ignore. She bites her bottom lip, and you know she can feel your heart racing, thumping in your chest like a drum. With trembling fingers, she starts to unbutton your jeans, the sound echoing in the silent room.

You feel the zipper slide down, the air caressing your heated skin. She tugs gently at the fabric, and your jeans slides down your legs. You step out of them.

"Larissa, darling," Anne says, her voice for everyone to hear, "Why don't you give David a little massage?" She giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You know, just to help him relax."

Larissa's eyes shoot to Anne, then to you, then back to the floor. She's clearly horrified, but there's a part of you that's thrilled at the suggestion. You can feel the heat of Larissa's body as she steps closer, her hands hovering over your crotch. The fabric of your boxers is thin, and you know she can feel the hardness beneath it.

Her touch is tentative at first, her fingers barely grazing the material. You can see the conflict in her eyes—she's torn between her embarrassment and her desire to please Anne and the rest of the class. But as her hands start to move in slow, deliberate circles, the tension in the room skyrockets. The other students lean in, their eyes glued to the spot where Larissa's fingers are moving.

You bite back a moan as Larissa's touch becomes firmer, her movements more assured. You can feel your cock straining against the fabric, **** to be free. Mrs. Taylor watches intently from her bound position, her breaths quickening. "Good, Larissa," she says, her voice a little breathless. "Make sure to get him hard."

Anne's voice breaks the spell. "Mrs. Taylor," she says, a wicked smile playing on her lips, "should we really use toys to play with your anus? I have another idea."

Mrs. Taylor's eyes widen in surprise, and you can see the hint of a blush spreading across her cheeks. She tries to protest, but Anne's enthusiasm is infectious. "What do you suggest?" she asks, her voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Anne saunters over to the vaulting box, her red hair swaying as she moves. "How about," she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "we use something more... natural?" She glances at Larissa, who's now frozen in place, her hands hovering over your cock.

With a deft flick of her wrists, Anne pulls down Mrs. Taylor's g-string, revealing her pussy and ass. Mrs. Taylor gasps, her body jerking slightly. "A-Anne," she stammers, trying to protest, but the words die on her lips as Anne's fingers trace along the edges of her anus. You can see her pupils dilate in the mirror.

Anne's fingers are like an artist's brush, stroking and teasing Mrs. Taylor's asshole with surprising skill. Mrs. Taylor's legs quiver, and she moans softly, arching her back. "Just relax, Mrs. Taylor," Anne whispers, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

The room goes silent, the only sound the gentle squelch of Anne's fingertips as they delve into Mrs. Taylor's most intimate area. "Class," Anne says, her voice loud and clear, "I want you all to come closer and observe. This is an excellent opportunity to learn about the human body."

You watch as the other students slowly approach the bound teacher, their eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Rachel and Mark are in the front, their expressions a mix of excitement and shock. Rachel's hand reaches out, her fingers hovering just above Mrs. Taylor's exposed pussy. "Go on," Anne encourages, "Don't be shy. It's all part of the lesson."

Rachel's hand descends, her fingertips brushing against the soft, wet folds of Mrs. Taylor's sex. You see Mrs. Taylor's body tense, and then she relaxes into the touch, her hips rocking slightly. Rachel's eyes widen with wonder, and she looks up at Mark, who nods eagerly. He steps forward, his hand mirroring Rachel's movements as he explores Mrs. Taylor's body.

Anne turns to Larissa, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I think she's ready," she says, her voice a seductive purr. "You can bring David here."

Larissa's face is a mask of shock, but she nods, her cheeks flaming red. She reaches out and grabs your cock through your boxers, giving it a gentle squeeze. You suck in a breath, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. She pulls your boxers down to your knees, leaving you completely exposed. You can feel the eyes of the class on you, their gazes burning into your flesh.

The laughter of your classmates fills the room as you stumble towards the vaulting box. You are obviously overwhelmed by the whole situation, your legs feeling like jelly. Your cock is rock hard, pointing straight out like a sword. You can't believe what's happening—you're in the middle of a biology lesson, and you're about to fuck your teacher's ass in front of everyone. It's a dream come true, but it's also the most terrifying moment of your life.

Anne's hand is like a vice around your cock, guiding it to Mrs. Taylor's exposed ass. You can feel the heat of her body, the softness of her skin. You hover there for a moment, your heart racing, the tip of your cock brushing against Mrs. Taylor's tight hole. She's breathing heavily, her eyes closed.

With a gentle push from Anne, you start to ease into Mrs. Taylor. She gasps, her body tensing as you penetrate her. It's a tight fit, her sphincter gripping you like a fist. You feel a thrill of power and excitement, knowing that you're claiming her in a way that's so taboo, so wrong. The class is watching, their eyes wide, some of them biting their lips in anticipation.

You begin to thrust slowly, feeling her body adjust to your size. Mrs. Taylor's moans fill the room, and you can't help but feel a twisted sense of pride as you see her face contorted in pleasure and pain. The ropes bite into her wrists as she tries to hold on, her breasts jiggling with each thrust.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt— the heat, the tightness, the sheer wrongness of it all. You can't believe you're actually doing this, that she's letting you. The pressure builds in your balls, and you know you won't last much longer. You look into the mirror and see the hunger in Larissa's eyes, the way she's watching you, her soft hands now massaging your ass cheeks.

You can feel your climax approaching, and you know you can't hold back. You pump into Mrs. Taylor faster, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You let out a low growl and push as deep as you can go. You cum inside her ass, filling her up with your seed. The feeling is indescribable — like nothing you've ever experienced before.

As you pull out, gasping for breath, Mrs. Taylor's body relaxes, her eyes still closed. The room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing. Anne claps her hands together, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "Very good, class," she says, releasing Mrs. Taylor from her bounds. "Now it's Larissa's turn."