Teacher Safari

School: known by most as the sacred cornerstone of education and knowledge, amongst other romanticized exaggerations and droll formalities. Most people your age know it as an exciting phase of wild hormonal adventures, and you are no exception. Neither, for that matter, is the school you attend: a high school with almost a century of history with open facilities, long corridors and wide rooms to match - and several bookshelves' worth of raunchy rumors, hidden behind the prestigious symbols and facades.

Then again, you know that "rumors" is probably not the best word for it; despite intercourse being strictly banned under the rules - as any respectable institution would - you've personally encountered a few instances of frantic kissing, muffled moaning, and heavy petting in your time at school. Changing rooms, abandoned lecture halls, the back of the training equipment sheds - if you dared to venture, you know you'd find at least a pair of students engaged in some form of quick nookie, in a bid to relieve the combination of accumulated stress and hormones after class. The school's unique atmosphere of repressed sexual tension is something that you and the other students picked up since your freshman years, and you know most of the students have answered the call to nature's most primal of rituals.

What separates you from your classmates, however, is your taste in the fairer sex. It's a trait you've come to realize you had since the first grade when you started daydreaming about your art teacher and the way she smiled at you. By the time you hit puberty and you discovered the joy of masturbation, you found yourself jacking off to the images of your female teachers. Demure or dynamic, conservatively dressed or shoulder-baring, uniformed or casual - it didn't matter. All you could think of was their deliciously developed frames, backsides and busts enticingly shaped by neatly - yet tightly - worn clothes, affirmative smiles with just a hint of "come hither" in their eyes. You don't really remember a teacher who you haven't fantasized over at least once. Conversely, no one at school seems to share your refined preferences, and you're not the sort of young man to tell anyone different. If the other males want to go after the vapid, vain, self-styled princesses, why not? Less competition is always something you can work with.

On the other hand, you've started to grow tired of having your right hand as your only date partner. Much as you've tried to not let your mates' teasing get to you, your patience has worn thin after several years of being an average nobody who hasn't "got some". You're determined to find out if the occasional rumor of yours teachers getting into their own kinky escapades has any grain of truth in it - and fulfill those fantasies you've had since you were a kid.

So here you are, sitting at your desk on a late Friday afternoon. Your lessons for the day are over, and the classroom is empty. Everyone else has long since left for various club activities - or, as you suspect, the usual hidden trysts. That leaves the teachers, who you know will have stayed behind to finish administrative duties or oversee clubs before the weekend rolls in.

Now all you have to do is decide where to go...