-your friends laughed as the placed the sign of free use up after trapping you in the wall in the middle of the sex school you attended, the wall was at your waist so both your front and back were exposed to everyone, you heard the sounds of people both of teachers and students beginning to line up on both sides of the wall to get a chance to use you-

You hear someone's voice, but you don't recognize it. "Hmm... Well, why not? We could use some entertainment today," they say, sounding amused. The next thing you know, you feel someone unlock the clasps holding you in place and pull your body out of the wall. You fall to the floor with a thud, relieved but embarrassed at the same time. Standing over you is a tall, handsome man wearing a teacher's robe - Mr.

Mr. Johnson smirks down at you. "Don't mention it," he says, offering you a hand up. You take it and stand unsteadily on your feet, brushing yourself off as best you can. The students and teachers who had lined up to use you are now all staring at you with varying expressions of shock, amusement, and desire. Mr. Johnson clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him. "Alright, class," he says, "you've all been very patient. Now then... where were we?"

Mr. Johnson glances over at you several times throughout the class, his expression unreadable. You can't help but feel self-conscious under his gaze. As class ends and the other students begin to file out of the room, he walks up to your desk and leans down so that he's close to your ear. "See me after class," he whispers, his breath tickling your neck.

Mr. Johnson watches you carefully as the last few students leave the room. When it's finally just the two of you, he crosses his arms and leans against your desk. "So," he begins, his voice low and almost threatening, "did you enjoy your little stunt earlier?"

Mr. Johnson raises an eyebrow at your reply, unconvinced. "I see," he says slowly, eyeing you carefully. "And what do you think you should be punished for?" He pauses, then adds with a smirk, "Or rewarded for, perhaps?"

Mr. Johnson chuckles darkly, stepping closer to you. "Ah, I see. Well then, perhaps you should be... rewarded," he says, his voice lowering further. Before you can react, he reaches out and cups your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His touch sends shivers down your spine. "How about this?" he murmurs, leaning in closer still.

Mr. Johnson's hand feels warm against your cheek, his grip firm but not painful. His nearness unsettles you, causing your heart to race and your breathing to quicken. As he leans even closer, you can feel the heat from his body enveloping you, making it difficult to think straight.

"Hmm," he hums, eyes narrowed in concentration. "You seem so tense... I think we should help you relax."

Mr. Johnson smirks, leaning even closer as he whispers into your ear. "Oh, I think I know just the thing to help you relax," he breathes, his warm breath tickling your neck. His free hand begins to trail down your chest, toward your stomach, teasingly close but never quite touching your skin. "Why don't we find out?"

His fingers continue their slow descent, inching ever closer to the waistband of your pants.

Mr. Johnson chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your ear. "Oh, I don't know about that," he says, his fingers finally brushing against the bare skin of your stomach. You gasp at the contact, goosebumps rising on your skin as his touch sends shivers down your spine. He smirks, pleased with your reaction. "But since you seem to be enjoying it so much... why don't we just see where this takes us?"

His touch feels both intimate and forbidden as his fingers slip lower, tracing lazy circles around your navel. You shiver with anticipation, unable to resist the growing desire that fills you at his touch. Your heart races faster and faster, and despite knowing this is wrong, you can't help but want more.

"Mmm... that's it," he murmurs approvingly, "just let go and enjoy it." His free hand comes to rest on your hip, guiding you closer as his body presses against yours.

Mr. Johnson smirks down at you, his eyes darkening with desire as he continues to touch you wherever he pleases. "Oh, I don't know about that," he murmurs huskily, leaning in closer still until their lips are almost brushing against each other. "I think this feels just right." His fingers dance over your stomach and chest, teasing and tormenting you in equal measure as his body presses harder against yours.

As you relax into the sensations, Mr. Johnson's touch becomes bolder and more confident. His fingers slip lower still, tracing lazy circles around your navel before dipping lower to tease at the hairs above your panty line. You arch your back instinctively, moaning softly as he continues to torture you with pleasure.

His free hand comes up to cup one of your breasts, massaging it gently through your shirt before slipping underneath to grope at your bare skin.

Mr. Johnson chuckles darkly as he feels your body responding to his touch. "I think we've gone far enough past the point of no return, don't you agree?" He leans down, capturing one of your nipples between his teeth and gently bites down. Your breath catches in your throat at the sudden pain-pleasure sensation. His other hand continues to fondle your breast through your shirt, cupping it roughly as he massages and squeezes. "Now,"

Mr. Johnson smirks, his eyes darkening with lust as he continues to tease and fondle your body. "Oh, I think we've gone just far enough," he murmurs into your ear before nipping gently at the lobe. His hand moves lower still, slipping beneath your panties to stroke your bare skin between your legs. You cry out in surprise and pleasure as his fingers find your wetness, rubbing circles around your clit.

"That's it,"

Mr. Johnson groans softly as he feels your body responding to his touch, the wetness between your legs making it easy for him to slide one finger inside you. He begins to thrust shallowly, pumping his hand in and out as he continues to tease your clit with his thumb. Your moans fill the air, muffled by the teacher's robe as you arch your back and writhe beneath him.

"That's it," he breathes against your ear, "let go... let me take care of you."

Mr. Johnson watches you intently as your body tenses and relaxes around his fingers, the sounds of your pleasure filling the room. As you come down from your orgasm, he slowly pulls his hand away, licking his thumb clean before moving it back to your chest where he trails gentle circles over your nipple through your shirt. "There," he murmurs, voice hoarse with arousal, "I think that will help you relax."

Mr. Johnson chuckles softly as he watches you come down from your second orgasm of the day. "I think it's about time we called it a day," he says, stepping back and running his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down. "You should probably head home now. We can discuss any further punishments or... rewards at our next class." He smirks, offering you a hand up from the floor where you've collapsed in exhaustion.

Mr. Johnson watches you carefully as you take his hand and stand up, noticing the slight tremor in your legs. "Feeling a bit... worn out?" he asks with a knowing smile. "Perhaps I should give you a ride home, hmm?" He steps closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Or maybe we could find somewhere more... private..."

Mr. Johnson watches you leave the classroom with a mixture of disappointment and desire. He can't help but wonder what might have happened if you had accepted his offer for a ride or somewhere more private. Oh well, there's always next time...

As you leave the classroom and eventually the university, you can't help but feel a strange mixture of exhilaration and shame coursing through your veins. The memories of Mr. Johnson's touch and his forbidden advances dance around in your head, leaving you yearning for more... or is that just your imagination running wild?

As you lie awake that night, images of Mr. Johnson flood your mind. His touch, his voice, the forbidden thrill of being with him... it's all too much to resist. You find yourself fantasizing about what might have happened if you had given in to his advances, wondering where things could have gone from there. Maybe next time you should take that risk? Or perhaps not...

"Hey," Mr. Johnson says as he notices you and your friend entering the classroom, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long. "Good morning, girls." He takes his seat behind his desk, looking a little flustered himself. The rest of the students whisper amongst themselves as they take their seats, some shooting curious glances in your direction.

As the class begins, you can't help but feel Mr. Johnson's eyes on you throughout the lesson.

Mr. Johnson's gaze wanders between you and your friend throughout the class, his expression unreadable. You can feel the tension building in the room as students and teacher alike struggle to focus on the lesson at hand. As the bell rings signifying the end of class, Mr. Johnson clears his throat loudly, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"Alright, class," he says, "you're all dismissed. But remember, I'll be here for a little while longer if anyone needs... additional help."

As you and your friend make your way towards the door, Mr. Johnson calls out to you. "Amy?" he says, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you expectantly. You swallow hard, feeling a mixture of anticipation and fear well up inside you. "Yes, sir?" you reply hesitantly, turning back to face him.

His expression softens slightly, and he motions for you to come closer. "I was wondering if maybe... we could continue our discussion from earlier," he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

Mr. Johnson watches you carefully as you hesitate, his expression unreadable. "Alright," he says finally, nodding for you to go. "I understand. We can discuss it another time." He turns away, busying himself with some papers on his desk, but you can't help feeling a twinge of regret at missing out on the chance to see where this might lead.

Mr. Johnson swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he leans back against his desk. "Amy," he begins slowly, "I want to apologize for how things have been between us lately." He pauses, looking away briefly before meeting your gaze again. "The truth is... I've been struggling with my feelings for a while now."

He takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself before continuing, "And after what happened the other day... well, I just thought maybe it was time we talked about it."

Mr. Johnson's eyes widen slightly at your response, hope flickering briefly across his features before being extinguished once more. He nods slowly, taking another deep breath before speaking. "Thank you for understanding," he says softly, his voice barely audible above the sound of his own heartbeat. "I know this is... unexpected."

He pauses, searching your face for any sign that you regret your decision. Seeing only honesty and curiosity there, he continues, "It's just that...

Understood. I'll make it quick.