Escort Arielli to her class

Ring, riing! went the bell.

The sound of squeaking chairs peaked into a mixture of indistinguishable exchanges. Relieved of the usual lethargy, the class briskly made for the exit as the teacher eyed the clock.

"'Member," Mr. Marks set down his marker, looking pointedly at the already chatter-enthralled students. "The homework is due tomorrow, and there will be a quiz, so you better do it!" His face leaned forward. "No re-dos, you hear?"

"Hey," a playful punch reached my arm. It was Arielli. "Thanks for the fuck," she said. The girl's eyes sheepishly drew inward as mine shamelessly wandered her face, then body, and I tried not to laugh at how insane her appreciation of me taking her half naked in front of a class of cheering classmates sounded, which really was absurd -- with or without the context. I decided not to bring up the fact that she came twice in like a minute after I broke her hymen.

"Pleasure was mine." I put on a suave voice. She laughed, probably at how bad it was. I smirked. Who cared. The hand she was furtively pushing onto the groin area of her pants (with little success) right between her legs under my nose that same moment was probably a hint as to what she truly felt when I was around anyway. And now that I did put my dick in her, she was probably going to be distracted for the whole day lost in a personal frigging fantasy.

Seriously. That hand of hers did not know how to hide a secret.

Before I could prod Arielli about it, who was now squirming as her legs opened and closed against her rubbing hand in a pathetic attempt at secrecy, and her eyes swept across the hall in a cherry blush as I levied an amused stare right between her legs, another soft mass rubbed against my left arm.

"Hey, John!" I turned. It was the bespectacled, dark skinned Jenna, a casual smile on her face. "That was a great show back there. My, ahem, 'you-know-what' is still sore from that!" After laughing, she continued, "Anyway, just had a question, you know, about the homework. So, if you don't mind reminding me... how big's your dick again?"

Feeling Jenna's breasts against my side, I began to answer, but Mr. Marks was faster. And surprisingly deft of hearing.

"No cheating out there!" Some of the students pouring out flinched at the abrupt declaration, but then carried on after the revelation of its belonging to another shouty man in his PMS stage. "You can't ask the man for the answers to the homework! If you didn't pay attention while he was literally impaling you and all the other girls, with his penis inside your vaginas for Westminster's sake, that's on you!"

After Mr. Marks sat back down with a grumble, I turned to Jenna and shrugged. I also grabbed her boob, because why not.

The girl left with a pout but a lingering shoulder pat following my apology ("rules were rules") and I stuck my hand down her jeans as goodbye. She seemed content enough.

The next minute or so was a buzz. I was treated to several other thanks and shows of affection from the girls I'd just handily nailed and kind of mind **** (but they didn't need to know that part). Among these were a kiss on the head from the tall Zhareh, a dirty grope from Stephanie, a quiet 'I love you' from the modest voiced Valencia, and a hopeful Sandra excitedly laying out the possibility of carrying my baby to term -- if, that was, she was actually impregnated. Which would've been just fantastic, according to her.

As I snaked my way through the hall I finally got some space once we entered the north wing. Arielli and I reached her class, where a couple guys at the door were trying to see who could get bruised quickest. Enlightening. With a snap of my fingers I made them take off their shirts, go outside, maybe make out or something. In any case, the way was cleared. I turned back, gesturing to the doorway with a pinch of dry poshness.

"Here we are."

"Yep," Arielli discreetly removed her hand from between her legs and let them fall to her sides, when a woman passed, and it soon became evident she was actually the teacher for the class. Noticing this, Arielli chimed, "Hey Mrs. Hurst."

When the redheaded woman heard her name, I thought, Oh. Her.

"Hi Arielli." She flipped her dark ginger locks and stopped at the doorway, heels tipped forward. "Who's this?"

"Oh," she introduced me, "this is my friend, John."

She looked me over, as if sizing me up for a bit, then looked back to Arielli with an inconspicuously raised eyebrow. "Quite a handsome fella, isn't he?" she disclosed. (Sorry. But I -- and my subconscious -- were getting off on all the showers of adulation, give us a break!)

Arielli smiled, then leaned forward. "Uh-huh. I just got to bounce on his penis too, earlier." My normally -- "normally" -- innocuous school friend casually made a 'V' with her fingers. With a lighthearted hand on a hip she continued, her and Mrs. Hurst's eyes both locked onto the other's and twinkling. "Let's just say, I don't cherrypick."

The two ladies hid their mouths behind hovering hands. I just stood back. Two laughing, decent looking girls were always a secret erotic pleasure. Mid-giggle, I thought and decided to do away with Arielli's bra from under her shirt, and spontaneously it did just that. Once it disappeared, I bestowed upon her nipples extra prominence, and grinned. Their puffy outlines emerged visibly through the fabric as she recovered from the high, boobs still jiggling.

Saying she'd see Arielli in class, the teacher looked at me with a clear but suggestive smile before finally walking inside with a slight wiggle to her slender hips. Not wanting to be done with her yet, I wished for her dress to be much shorter. Before my eyes, the formerly fitting but nonoffensive flowing dress she had on rose from her ankles, to her knees, to the top of her knees, then her thighs as she walked, until suddenly, those hips were also showing off the company of her smooth looking asscheeks peeking from underneath the scandalous hem of the flower-patterned garb.

"I gotta get going." Sighing, Arielli lifted up a hand with comical stiffness then dropped it back down, looking into the class. She made no comment on her teacher's new, skin-revealing hemline. "Last time she punished a guy for sleeping in class by making all the girls grind against his lap for the rest of the day, without allowing him to climax. Considering it was Bring Your Bikini or Thong to Class Day we all had skimpy stuff covering our butts too. Poor Luke. It was pure ****, but simultaneously hilarious." Our eyes met. "You would've gotten a kick out of it."

Wait, what? I looked back to the also somewhat skimpily dressed teacher leafing through papers at her desk and blinked in confusion. I hadn't wished anything like that, or commanded that into reality. Did I?

I had to ask what kind of class this was supposed to be, and was about to, when it hit me; I'd made the normally innocuous -- "normally" -- teacher say earlier, when she was talking with that other pretty brunette one, that she taught "Sexy time with Mrs. Hurst" here. My hand slumped from forehead to mouth as I realized what that created.

Apparently, now, to no problem of any of the faculty or parents of the kids attending the institution, as it were, she actually did teach that class. And the formerly woman-power championing, man beating Arielli was her willing, placid student!

I laughed, a hand at my stomach.

Go figure!

Well, adjusting my shirt for no apparent reason, I professed, that sounds like a class I wanted to be in.

Maybe next time, I'll put it on my schedule.

Arielli turned to me. With faintly dismayed but simultaneously more than fulfilled eyes, she said bye. I promised to meet her and the rest of the guys at lunch, then slapped her ass hard enough to push her in before saying, "See ya later, masturbator. Don't get too wet in there!" and walked off.