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She moaned louder, squeezing my hand and nodding her head. Daddy was clearly enjoying himself too as I caught him in the corner of my eye, grinning wickedly and slowly stroking his still mostly-flaccid cock as he watched the show. Mom was slower than I normally was, either because I didn't really know what she liked yet, playing with her clitty, or just because she was still so conflicted about this whole thing, and her doubt was getting in her way. She did still get there though, gasping and trembling, only maybe ten seconds or so before Brucie started cumming as well. She was still shaking through the aftershocks when her eyes suddenly went wide again.

“He—” I croaked, my throat dry and scratchy, a foreign, slightly bitter taste on my tongue. “Help!” My voice was so weak and thready, there was no way anyone would hear me, not through what I was now recognizing as sound-proof padding on the walls. What had happened to me? I couldn't remember. I didn't know where I was, had no idea why I was here.

This was many years ago, back when teachers could lay an encouraging hand on a student’s shoulder without being labeled a sex offender. Teachers could sit close by a student to help them with a hard concept, and no one thought anything of it. The boys flirted back with Mrs. B. and the girls got valuable lessons in how to attract boys’ attention and drive them crazy. It was fun. And, Mrs. B was married with a couple of young kids, not that it mattered. It was all just innocent fun.