Yes, she gives in

"Yeah, I like it."

I throw my robe off, giving the class a view of everything they've already seen. I then walk in front of Mr. Romance Novel, noticing the obvious bulge in his pants. He remains frozen as I pull down on his pants, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. The very thing I've been craving for what feels like an eternity. Judging by his work of art, he was feeling a similar sort of way.

He simply watches as I proceed to mount him. As I lock eyes with him, I lower myself down onto his hardness. Considering how aroused I am, I sink down with ease, the walls of my wetness gripping his dick. Now that I'm in position, the class gathers around as I begin to show them the art of lovemaking.

To start, I rock my hips gently, easing myself into the sensation. The two of us lock eyes as we hold each other tightly. It's almost as if we're not in a room of strangers watching as I ride my chosen partner. As I start to moan, I hear others unbuckle their belts and undo their zippers.

Now that the others were exposing myself, I decided that it was a good time to look around the room. None of the men had been shy, with every one of them flaunting their erect cocks. The woman sat at her chair, watching as I continued to ride Mr. Romance Novel. I wonder what she's thinking right now. Is she aroused? Jealous? Or is she too shocked to think at all?

Whatever the case, she continues to watch as I pick up the pace. I can't help but fill the room with lustful cries as ride Mr. Romance Novel. As I do, I lose all concept of time. I know I'm going to be late back to the office, but I'm sure I can come up with an excuse, at least this one time, right?

"Is this what you were thinking about when you were drawing me?" I ask.

Mr. Romance Novel didn't have any words for me, but that picture was worth a thousand of those. He knew I was on heat as soon as he laid eyes on me. That I'm a nympho-slut waiting for the faintest of excuses to start riding him like there's no tomorrow. I wonder if any of the other men who drew me were thinking or hoping the same thing? I know they're all watching me intently, hoping they'll get a turn.

It's not long before my motions have me inching close to the orgasm I've been thinking about for so long. Within a few seconds a whole bunch of strangers are going to watch me at the peak of satisfaction and intimacy. My legs tremble in anticipation of the moment I'm **** to experience. Sure enough, it hits, causing me to moan passionately as I shudder. I see no reason to contain myself. After all, art is about expressing yourself, so I let it all out for the viewing pleasure of my audience.

When I finally calm down, I ask the only question there is to ask: "So who's next?"