Teacher

The math lesson dragged on. Mrs. Harper was droning about quadratic equations when Ralf raised a trembling hand.

“Mrs. Harper… I feel sick. Like, really dizzy. Can you take me to the nurse?”

The teacher blinked, concerned. “Of course, Ralf. Come on, let’s go.”

She gathered her things and led him out. The corridor was empty, the distant noise of classes muffled behind closed doors.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Ralf turned.

“Forget the nurse. Shut your fucking mouth and follow me on all fours. Don’t make a sound.”

Mrs. Harper’s eyes widened in pure animal panic, but her body dropped instantly. Her knees hit the linoleum with a dull thud. She crawled after him like a dog, skirt riding up, cheeks burning crimson, tears already streaking her mascara.

Ralf walked slowly, hands in his pockets, leading her past rows of lockers to the empty boys’ changing room near the gym. The stench of old sweat and chlorine hung in the air.

He locked the door behind them.

“Strip. Everything off. Now.”

Her fingers moved on their own, shaking violently as blouse buttons popped, skirt slid down, bra and panties following. In seconds Mrs. Harper (forty-two, married, mother of two) stood naked and shivering in the cold fluorescent light.

“On your knees, you pathetic old bitch.”

She dropped. The tile was freezing against her skin.

Ralf unzipped, pulled himself out, already hard.

“Open that lying teacher mouth you use to pretend you give a shit about us.”

She opened. He grabbed her hair, shoved in deep, and started thrusting. Every slap of his hips echoed in the empty room.

“Look at you,” he laughed, voice dripping venom. “Mrs. fucking Harper, the one who ‘never noticed’ when they poured juice on my books. Bet your husband thinks you’re grading papers right now. Bet your kids would love to see Mommy like this.”

He spat on her face, kept going, calling her every name he’d swallowed for three years: useless cow, fake-ass bitch, dried-up whore. Tears poured down her cheeks, but her throat worked obediently, taking everything he gave.

When he came, he held her head flush against him, pulsing straight down her tongue.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t spit. Keep every drop in that slut mouth. Get dressed, crawl back to class, and only when you’re standing at the board in front of everyone can you swallow. Then act like nothing happened.”

She nodded, gagging, cum already pooling under her tongue.

Ralf zipped up, wiped himself on her discarded blouse, and walked out without looking back.

Mrs. Harper dressed in frantic silence, the taste of him coating her mouth like poison.

Ralf strolled through the quiet halls, shoes squeaking faintly, until he stood in front of the frosted glass door that read: