The students snatch her bra

Jacqueline had not quite left the aisle. She came up behind Vargas without hurry, reached between her shoulder blades, and, with practiced ease, unhooked the bra with two fingers. The clasp snapped open with a subtle twang. Vargas stiffened. The cups sagged slightly. She began to turn. “Jacqueline, what are you-“ Before she’d gotten the words out, Jacqueline hooked a finger in the gorge between the cups and tugged, pulling the bra off her arms in one clean motion. Miss Vargas’ breasts sprung free, heavy and bare in the fluorescent lighting, landing with an appreciable jiggle.

Jacqueline waltzed out the door, stretching the bra between her fingers to casually catapult the garment into the school corridor. Meanwhile Vargas was preoccupied looking down. No sweater; no skirt; no scrap of fabric left above the waistband of her lacy panties, just her naked tits dangling out in the middle of the classroom. What is- how did-

Jordan’s phone shutter was suddenly in her face. It flashed brightly. Maria flinched and let out an embarrassed squeal, before blindly snapping her hands to her boobs. The picture had captured her a moment too early: Mouth agape with shock, startled, both breasts fully exposed and dead center in frame. “Thanks for the lesson, Miss Vargas,” he said. “Same time next week.”

The footsteps receded and the door slowly fell shut, leaving Miss Vargas in an empty classroom, stripped to her panties, stockings, and heels, covering her breasts with both arms. Her nipples pressed into her wrists, and the draft from the open windows bit into her skin.

Oh… the half-naked woman in Room 202 despaired to herself, I have to teach here again next week.