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After my boner mishap, either she was getting more daring, or my imagination was running wilder. One day Mrs. B. was wearing one of her short short skirts, no stockings, just muscular shapely legs. She couldn’t help but notice me watching her move around the room. She stopped at the desk of the student in front of me and bent at the waist to look at her paper. When she slid her hands between her thighs and bent a little farther, her skirt raised exposing her panties. They were red. And lacey. I thought she gave me a sidewards glance to see if I noticed. Maybe not. It really didn’t matter, though. As soon as I glimpsed those skimpy panties, I came in my pants. Right then. In class. I’m not proud, but I was only 15, I could cum at a good card trick. I had it bad.

“Yeah maybe.” My spent cock slid out of Carol’s ass with a wet pop, followed by a creamy gush of my cum. I flopped onto the sofa. Carol plopped down beside me, an instant wet spot started oozing onto the leather cushion. “Should I get a towel or something? That’s quite the mess.”“I’ll lick it up before I go to bed. Or not. Don’t care. I’ll flip the cushion before my husband gets home.”“You never did that before?” I asked.

“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.