She breaks in

No, Nathalie thinks. She can't just quit. She won't. Not now! She pictures Adam's gloating face if she goes back empty handed. Besides, she'd never thought she would talk a boy into letting her fuck them with a strapon. It had been a fantasy of Nathalie's for some time, and the chance to actually make it happen is too appealing. She wants Adam on his back, she wants to be the one doing the thrusting and teasing, and most importantly she wants the bragging rights!

Mind made up, Nathalie slips in through the window and drops onto the floor in Miss Wilson's front room. The carpet is thick and she barely makes a noise as she lands. The room is decorated quite tackily with poreceline figures and dominated by a huge wide-screen television.

The table is covered in magazines about photography. Miss Wilson is an art teacher, and photography is most definitely her passion, so it doesn't surprise Nathalie much.

She pauses and listens. She can hear nothing.

She slips into the downstairs corridor, where there is a flight of stairs heading up to the next floor. The house has a slightly cloying smell, which she puts down to cheap supermarket air-freshener.

Four doors lead out from the hall. One is definitely the front door. Presumbly one is a kitchen and the other is a back room. The fourth she isn't sure about. Maybe a cellar?

The bedroom would definitely be upstairs though. Nathalie makes her way quietly up the stairs, standing on the sides of each step to avoid them creaking. At the top she pauses. Three doors - a toilet and two bedrooms?

She pauses again and listens. No sound. She opens the first door and finds a toilet and shower room, filled with piles of pink towels. But the second door reveales a large bedroom, dominated by a bed with plain linen sheets.

Easy! she thinks, and slips over to the bedside cabinet. The first drawer she opens reveals matching sets of bras and panties. Nathalie sniggers slightly - who would have thought that Miss Wilson mainly wore thongs? She is clearly naughtier than her reputation!

She quickly rifles through the drawers' contents and selects a small purple g-string. It would definitely get Adam's pulse racing! Without pockets, she tucks it into the waistband of her skirt and quietly makes her way back downstairs.

She's in the hallway when she hears the key turning in the lock and voices talking on the other side of the front door.

Shit!

One of them is definitely Miss Wilson. Nathalie's eyes widen with panic. She must not get caught!

There isn't enough time to get out through the window, she thinks desperately. She will have to hide and wait until the coast is clear. Instinctively, she grabs the nearest door and opens it, and slips into the room that she assumed was a cellar.

The door shuts behind her.

Nathalie, realising where she is, freezes, eyes widening.

This is no cellar.